Dave Worthen

6 years ago · 4 min. reading time · ~10 ·

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Winning Against the Killer Chorus in Your Mind

Winning Against the Killer Chorus in Your Mind

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When you were a kid, did you ever have that experience when you were swimming in a pool or in a lake on vacation, where you thought to yourself, “I wonder if I can hold my breath and swim from one end of the pool to the other?”

There was just you, you know? There was no swimming coach or your parents challenging you.

You just decided that it was a goal you wanted to achieve.

You took that deep breath like no other, closed your eyes, and started toward the other side. As you began your journey to the other side you were excited like there’s no fucking tomorrow. And then about halfway across, your air supply is diminishing and your body begins to ache.

And then comes this crucial phase:

The counter or other-intentions from your negative mind start telling you to go up for air. You will not make it. Your muscles are ridiculing you like bad-ass bullies on the playground at school.

I mean you realize underwater as a 10 year old that your muscles can fucking talk.

Nobody will believe you, though. But here you are halfway across the pool in the blackness of your goal and that killer chorus is screaming.

They’re like psycho-parents at a little baseball game.

You are like: WTF is this?

You just wanted to see if you could make it across the pool on one breath.

Not so fast, Michael Phelps wannabe. There is an entire killer chorus living in your negative or reactive mind that really has its genus before the Twittersphere or even the Atmosphere.

And they don’t come to life until their alarm goes off that you just might make it.

I know, it’s weird, right?

But it’s true.

You are thinking “I can make it,” and your body is like: “You need to get your ass outta this pool because your parents are going to be so pissed if you fucking drown.” And then while you’re pushing your arms with all your might through the water, this chorus of voices realizes you’re not listening to them. And that really pisses them off.  

So they start throwing pictures at you of you out of the pool on your back turning purple. And then they throw the picture of your Mom kneeling next to you crying, and you see some medic doing the whole fibrillator thing on your chest.

Your body is screaming at you and these pictures are frightening as you make another valiant kick with your legs.

You’re like, really???

And just as those pictures come flying in, your chest feels like it’s about ready to burst. And oh yeah, that picture of your Mom crying is the one that hits you the hardest. I mean, you think fuck it I can die, but I don’t want to make my Mom cry, right?

All of this is going on while your legs begin to cramp and your oxygen is getting less. You open your eyes to see where the hell that wall is and instantly the chlorine sends stinging darts into your eyeballs. It hurts like hell but for that brief moment you see the wall.

It’s a distant blur, but it’s there.

And you are in this moment that all great athletes go through and really anyone who puts their dreams and goals on the line:

Do I go up for air, or do I risk it?

You decide you’re going for broke.

You close your eyes and you put all your chips on yourself.  The body screamers are now saying you’re a fool. They brought in new recruits. You know, the bullies and cynics. Like today's Dark Side of the Twittersphere. It gets mean down there. It’s now ridicule. They are tweeting with each arm stroke. They’re throwing in pictures of all your friends belly-laughing at you at school because you’re standing there dripping wet with your lilly-white skin, and you’re so embarrassed you want to die. And you think this is not worth it and for a billionth-of-a-second you think of swimming upwards.  

Why?

Because the invalidation and ridicule and your Mom crying are not things you want to experience.

I mean after all, this was just some silly goal you had by yourself at the local pool.

The ridicule gets to a feverish pitch and then a picture comes flying in of you in the hospital with tubes coming out of every orifice and doctors and family hovering over you.

As your arms tire you think to yourself, this is too much.

And then things get real quiet.

Like maybe you’re dying. Like this is it.

And you think to yourself: Fuck it. If I’m going to die, I’m going to die trying. I’m going for the wall and I’ll deal with all that crap later.

And then you touch the wall.

You cannot even believe your hand touched it. But you did, and you explode above the surface gasping for air and you are exhilarated beyond belief. You look around for all the cheering faces in the crowd because you know this was an Olympic moment, right? I mean you could hear the roar of the crowd poolside when you touched that wall and came up for air.

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But when you look around in your state of exhilaration you notice there is no crowd. You look over to the far end of the pool and some Mom is escorting her little daughter and her dolphin inner-tube into the pool area. You look to the other side and some really tan woman with blonde hair and black sunglasses is putting on suntan lotion.

That’s it.

And as you start to swim back to the other side, you start to smile to yourself.

You are as happy as an otter in the ocean.

Because why?

Because you decided to do something and did it.  

And because you realize that whether underwater in that darkness or out here in life, there will always be those in life that for some reason, bought the “I Can Be Critical Because I Can” seats, and that’s what they do. And in the bleachers next to them is a section called “We Kill Dreams Inc.”

And you’re just smiling ear to ear.

And you’re giddy-as-hell.

As you dry yourself off, you’re feeling a sense of power. Like you were superhuman or something.

And you were.

Super is a prefix that means “above.”

The power of choice was yours. And you rose above being human.

You rose above the killer chorus of defeat and ridicule.

You won.

And you beat those guys in the cheap seats.

And man o’ man, you feel like Michael Phelps for real.



For a free phone consultation to discuss your business needs, please feel free to text me or call me at 303-641-6647, or email me at daveworthen@gmail.com





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Comments

Dave Worthen

6 years ago #9

#15
Thanks, Anita!

Dave Worthen

6 years ago #8

#13
Yep! Thanks again, Kevin Baker!

Dave Worthen

6 years ago #7

#11
Thank you very much, Kevin Baker! I really appreciate your comments and you sharing. I think this is something everyone can benefit from because who hasn’t been challenged by this?!

Dave Worthen

6 years ago #6

#8
Thank you, Netta Virtanen! It was definitely the feeling I was writing to convey! Glad you liked it.

Dave Worthen

6 years ago #5

#7
Thank you very much, Ness Campagnaro! I'm glad you enjoyed it!

Dave Worthen

6 years ago #4

#5
Thank you very much, Lisa \ud83d\udc1d Gallagher! I’m glad you enjoyed it and that it was timely!

Lisa Gallagher

6 years ago #3

You are a rock star at inspiring Dave Worthen. This was not only visual but visceral. Thanks, I really needed to read this today!

Dave Worthen

6 years ago #2

#3
Thank you very much, Franci\ud83d\udc1dEugenia Hoffman, beBee Brand Ambassador! And thanks for taking the time to comment here. It's something I think all of us run into at different points in our lives and I tried to highlight the upside in how one can win against it.

Dave Worthen

6 years ago #1

#1
Thank you so much Kathryn Landers! It is exactly my intention as a writer to convey these concepts we all have experienced and translate them into something everyone can use in their business and in life.

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