Time for a new password and this is what happens in my brain.

“Your password will expire in five days.”  Every three months, as it is with most corporations now-a-days, employees have to change their passwords. No big deal except I’ve been trying to make my passwords meaningful to me as well as cryptic enough to meet the password qualifications as set by our illustrious IT department.  Most often, I’ve taken a goal or some feel good mantra and turned it into password speak.  And while they met the criteria, my past passwords did nothing to motivate me toward achieving my goal, or feeling “better about myself.”  I stopped doing affirmations for the same reason, they never worked. Nothing ever changed.  Knowing this, I still want to pick a password that has some meaning to it. Something I’m going to type many, many times a day over the course of the next three months needs to have some kind of positive connotation, eh? I was going over a few possible phrases when my brain got a little distracted…


I started pondering what is it I actually feel or think in those moments when I chose NOT to take the step toward my goal, desire, dream, etc. Where is it that my thoughts go  when I give up on something; when I chose to sit down rather than complete that day’s plan.  I don’t think I’d ever looked at it before, I just go there blindly.  Or rather, instead of observing my surroundings – the feelings, the reasons – I distract myself with the internet, my writing, something, anything on the television.  I want to go into that space now. Let’s see what’s there.

“This won’t work. Nothing will change. It’s wasted effort.”  I don’t see where the words are coming from but that’s what I’m hearing. It’s all whispers too. No one is shouting me down from the high of accomplishment. “I’ll do that tomorrow. I’m going to look stupid. Someone’s going to make fun of me.” There’s a sense of futility. That no matter what I do, I’ll still be a target. But how does that work if I’m in the supposed security of my home?  There’s no one there to laugh at how I look, to see me struggling to do. There is no one there to see me fall down. There’s no one there to compete with and lose to; no one there I have to impress. When I turn away, what am I turning away from; what am I turning into?

I keep coming back to the part where my resistance is based on other people’s reactions. My bigger goals, those that I consistently fall short of reaching, can be achieved without any outside observations or participation.  So how does that work? No one else is involved; it’s all about what I chose to do.  Key words here, “I CHOSE”.  There is no committee; I can’t be fired if I make a mistake. I can always start over as long as I am physically able to do so.

BAH!  All of this is old news. I know all of this on a cellular level. But yet and still, when it comes down to that choice, following through on what is ultimately going to get me to where I want to be, I settle for that place of uncomfortable comfort.  Of dissatisfaction. What is it that draws me to that place? There’s nothing fun here, the décor is rather bland. No excitement, none of the colors or textures I enjoy.  Why on Earth would I chose to be here instead of where I’m brightly lit, engulfed in my senses, taking the hills of the roller coaster at top speeds? I love roller coasters. The first drops are natural highs I can take hits from again and again.


How do I remind myself of this? What talisman is there that I can wear all day, every day? Something that reminds me to make my choices for me. I suppose I could use my class ring. I almost flunked out of school, both in junior and high school, then again in college.  But each time, I got to a point where failing wasn’t acceptable. I changed my habits with seeming ease in order to get my grades up – going from almost flunking out to straight As.  I wasn’t able to afford my high school class ring until several years after I graduated from college but I got it. I was determined to get the style I wanted and I did it. I have proof that I can go the distance, that I can get things done the way I want them done. I have four books I’ve written and self-published. I have earned three NaNo winner’s badges.  I have the copy of the car title from the first car I paid off and owned out right, in my name alone. I have a master’s degree.

What I don’t have though, is the needed password, LOL.  In its place is a desire to design a small altar in my bedroom where I can meditate on my goals, focus my intent, and stop myself from going into that bland, drab, space where my

Maybe a room like this...
Maybe a room like this…

inactivity lives. In other words, I want to redesign my interior space. Bring in some vibrant, energizing colors, thoughts, ideas, and feelings. I want to imbibe that space with unbridled passion for living my life.  As I think more about this idea – incorporating meditation at an altar of my design – I feel as if minutes spent “om-ing” my intent with each deep, slow, cleansing, breath will act as a password that gets me to the mindset I want to have, the one I need in order to access that motivational energy I know I have inside me. I don’t know how I did it before but I have proof that it’s there.  See the above paragraph.

Now about that work password…

7 thoughts on “Time for a new password and this is what happens in my brain.

  1. Well said. Your thoughts resonate with me. I, too, find myself in a similar position: aware that in the past I’ve accomplished what needed to be done, but today find myself stuck in the drab, not knowing how to go forward. I like your password analogy. So apt.

    1. Thanks Ally. What’s funny is, after all of that contemplation, I still don’t have a password, lol. But I do have another blog post :-). Glad you enjoyed this one and really appreciate you taking the time to comment.

      1. You’re welcome. Best of luck with figuring out your new password. I empathize. I struggle trying to find ones that I can remember, but are complicated enough to thwart the bad guys.

  2. I dread those reminders. Worst of all is when you spend minutes crafting out a supposed cryptic username and password after which you attempt to enter it into the box only to be greeted by the “your password does not meet the necessary complexity”.


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