The Flinch ← We Can Solve This

Here’s the thing: the lessons you learn best are those you get burned by. Without the scar, there’s no evidence or strong memory. The event didn’t actually happen or imprint itself on your brain—you just trusted those who know better. Adults know what’s safe, so you listen. Over a lifetime, those who listen too much build a habit of trust and conformity. Unfortunately, as time goes on, that habit becomes unbreakable.

The anxiety of the flinch is almost always worse than the pain itself. You’ve forgotten that. You need to learn it again. You need more scars. You need to live.

HOMEWORK ASSIGNMENT Want a real, visceral example of what the flinch feels like? Try this. When you’re at home and have five minutes, go to your bathroom, walk up to your shower, and turn on the cold water. Wait a second; then test it to make sure it’s as cold as possible. Do you see what’s coming? If you do, you should tense up immediately. You should feel it in your chest. You might start laughing to release the tension—and you haven’t even stepped inside. You’re predicting a flinch that hasn’t happened yet. You’re already anxious about it—about something that hasn’t happened and won’t kill you—anxious about something that barely hurts at all.

A moment before, the flinch seems so uncomfortable that you might talk yourself out of this. You convince yourself that it’s pointless, but it isn’t; it’s training. You need to build a habit of seeing the flinch and going forward, not rationalizing your fear and stepping away.

Start doing the opposite of your habits. It builds up your tolerance to the flinch and its power.

Oh, and if you don’t act—no matter the reason—let’s be clear: you’re flinching. This exercise has no consequences, physical or social. If you refuse to do it, ask yourself why.

Those who explore find things in themselves just as often as in the outside world.

You’ll know you’ve opened the right door when you feel a strong, irresistible impulse to do something else, anything else. This usually means that you’re right at the threshold of something important, and you need to pay attention and keep going—now.

When you feel the flinch, you can shut it up by talking out loud. Ask a clear, strong question: “What are you afraid of?” Say it whenever you’re avoiding the flinch; then force yourself to answer. Or just call it out: “Flinching.” Verbalize your excuse. It’s often ridiculous, paranoid, or obsessive-compulsive. You sound like a drowning sailor when, in fact, you aren’t even near the water. Calm down and move forward.

THE PARADOX If you don’t flinch, you probably don’t even know why. You think it’s natural to go rock-climbing, do parkour, or meet new people all the time. You assume everyone is like you, but you’re wrong. If you’re flinching all the time, you think that’s natural, too. You think everyone is like you. The flinch is so innate you don’t consider it a problem. But it is, and you’re stuck with it unless you start to resist it.

The ability to withstand the flinch comes with the knowledge that the future will be better than the past. You believe that you can come through challenges and be just as good as you were before them. The more positive you are, the easier it is for you to believe this. You move forward and accept tough situations, so no matter the breakup, the job loss, or the injury, you believe you’ll recover and end up fine. If you believe this, you’re right.

You don’t know anyone at the party, so you don’t want to go. You don’t like cottage cheese, so you haven’t eaten it in years. This is your choice, of course, but don’t kid yourself: it’s also the flinch.

Flinch forward in nature, at home, in your workplace, anywhere. Try whatever you like or find interesting. Climb trees, eat new food, or learn to dance. All are provocations to the status quo that you use as stepping stones to larger explorations.

Set fire to your old self. It’s not needed here.

This pressure you feel—this flinch you encounter every day—there is no end to it. After you deal with one, another will come your way. The pressure increases as you go on. Whatever tension you can handle,

Everyone wants progress but very few want to lead. So a whole group waits for the first hand to go up before their hands go up, too. Suddenly, a vote goes from a unanimous NO to a unanimous YES. All it took was one voice of dissent—and suddenly, everything changed.

The secret to overcoming the flinch is that everyone wants you to succeed. People are looking for proof that you can be amazing so that they can be amazing, too.

Challenge yourself by doing things that hurt, on purpose. Have a willpower practice, such as very hard exercise, meditation, endurance, or cold showers. Choose something that makes your brain scream with how hard it is, and try to tolerate it. The goal isn’t just to get used to it. It’s to understand that pain is something you can survive.

Remember things that are easy to forget. Upgrade your current relationships. Create un-birthdays for your friends and stick to them. Go through old text messages to rekindle dormant friendships. It can be awkward, but that’s the point. You will make an impact by choosing to do what makes others nervous.

Turn your mobile phone off for a few hours each day. Having nothing to do while you’re waiting for a bus can be boring, but it’s only when you’re bored that the scary thoughts come to the surface.

Find new friends who make you feel uncomfortable, either because they have done more than you or because they have done nothing that you have. Meet tattoo artists or homeless people, millionaires or best-selling authors. Host dinner parties for them. Serve them bizarre food. Why the hell not?

Imagine that you have to leave a legacy, and everyone in the world will see the work you’ve done. Volunteer. Create something that lasts and that can exist outside of you, something that makes people wonder and gasp. Build a support structure for others. Devote some of your time or money to it.