Ice T Says STFU

I offer the above Ice Cold Fact & Daily Game of OG Ice T as a response to my previous post and a reminder to my future self why I need to shut the fuck up in the early stages of a new plot in life. I’ve read in some new agey books that telling people your plans drains the power/energy from those plans and inhibits their fruition. But @FINALLEVEL’s logic is a much more solid thing to grasp.

It’s a numbers game! Damn, that’s an angle I had never considered before. We all make a lot of plans, don’t we? YouTube Daddy Hank Green gave a really good counter to that shitty platitude everyone dragged last week by making this point.

Further down the thread back on @FINALLEVEL’s topic, one of his followers offered another pragmatic way of dealing with life’s “Show, Don’t Tell” law by linking to this article from Psychology Today:

If you want to succeed, don’t tell anyone.

It is better not to tell people who you want to be.

“Imagine, for example, that Mary wants to become a Psychologist. She tells Herb that she wants to pursue this career and that she is going to study hard in her classes. However, just by telling Herb her intention, she knows that Herb is already starting to think of her as a Psychologist. So, she has achieved part of her identity goal just by telling Herb about it. Oddly enough, that can actually decrease the likelihood that Mary will study hard.”

Art Markman, Ph.D

Story. Of. My. Life. I always feel energized by some fresh notion that I could become something more than what I currently am, and I’m so distressed by the inadequacy of my current self that I want others to immediately start seeing me as that distant star I’ve set my sights on: runner, writer, artist, musician, podcaster, vlogger, Patreon haver, small business owner, etc. And the people I tell are supportive, saying, “That sounds great! Good luck!” And then in a few months nothing’s changed and somebody ends up giving me this business…

Goals, destinations, blue-prints are all things that belong in collages, vision boards, art journals, and the other hidden ephemera of one’s private bedroom culture, not in the public domain. I hope you’ll only see my next plans when I roll them out as fully realized productions.

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