Ravikant, Kamal - Love Yourself Like Your Life Depends On It

Fighting fear doesn't work. It just drags us in closer. One has to focus on what is real. On the truth. When in darkness, don't fight it. You can't win. Just find the nearest switch, turn on the light.

James Altucher, in one of his best blog posts, talks about how he stops negative thoughts in their tracks with a simple mind trick. "Not useful," he tells himself. It's a switch, a breaker of sorts, shifts the pattern of the fear.

In the last book of the Hunger Games trilogy, one of the main characters has been tortured by the Capitol, his memories altered so that he can't distinguish between actual and implanted memories. His friends come up with a simple exercise. They tell him memories they know to be true, then ask, "real or not real?" Slowly, he learns to distinguish real from not-real until his mind adapts and he realizes that not-real memories have a certain shininess to them. And when in doubt, he returns to the practice: real or not-real.

Fear, when used properly, is a useful tool. It serves us well when near a blazing inferno or standing at the edge of a cliff. But outside of this, it's hijacked the mind. To the point where it's difficult to distinguish the mind and our thoughts from fear itself.

So, these tools, like light switches, exist. When fear arises, remember that it is a hallucinated snake or that it's not useful or that it's not real. All three work. There's many more, ones we can come up with ourselves, if we wish. As long as it works, it's valid.

Key is this, when in darkness, have a light switch you've chosen standing by. For example, in writing this book, fear says that I'm risking what people will think of me. Doesn't matter. My role is to recognize it for what it is - hallucinated snake, not useful, not real - and continue on.

Coasting

As I write this, I'm probably the lowest I've been in a while. Things are just....so. Not as bad as they were when I first started, but life's not zinging. The thing is, when life just works for a while, you get used to it and you think it'll stay that way. Recency bias. When things suck, when you're deep in it, it seems like they will suck forever. You can't imagine a way out. When things are great, you live as if it'll always last.

So, I ask myself, if I was to look deeper, why am I down, why isn't my life an expression of, well, awesomeness? Once you've experienced it and you know it's possible, then you should be doing everything in your power to keep it that way. It's just too good.

The answer, I'm lazy. When I was sick, I focused on my mind with a desperate intensity. But as life got good, then great, I started to coast. Let the mind drift to its natural devices. Went days, then weeks without meditating. Loving myself became something I assumed, but didn't work towards.

I'm now at the point that when I repeat the loop, "I love myself," it feels strange. I find myself searching for a less powerful word. One that feels right.

But if love isn't right, nothing else will be.

The irony is, I'm the one who shared this truth with friends. "Love yourself," I told them, "see what it did for me. It works, it really works." All true. But who wants to take financial advice from a man barely scraping by?

So I ask myself the question, "if I loved myself, truly and deeply, what would I do?" I love this question. There is no threat, no right or wrong answer, only an invitation to my truth in this present moment.

The answer is simple: I'd commit to the practice. And I would also share the next thing I've learned, which is, don't let yourself coast when things are going great. It's easy to wish for health when you're sick. When you're doing well, you need just as much vigilance.

Honestly, it scares me a little. Coming from the dumps, when life works, it's great. But if life is working, and you do the practice, how high can life go? Can I handle it? Heck, do I even deserve it?

It's a nice trick the monkey mind plays. So I return to the question, "if I loved myself, truly and deeply, what would I do?" The answer comes easy: I'd fly. Fly as high as I possibly can. Then, I'd fly higher.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go meditate.

Thought

If we are made of atoms and molecules, and they in turn from smaller particles which are empty space and energy, then what are we?

Are we our thoughts?

Ever catch your mind in a mental loop, replaying some old story, an old hurt, the same pattern? Who are you? The thought or the observer of the thought?

If you're the observer, then what is the thought?

Or are you a thought observing another thought?

Perhaps we're just biochemical storms within synaptic connections in a brain that evolved over millions of years. Or maybe there is an observer, a deeper self. No proof either way.

I'm fine with not knowing. I enjoy thinking about it, but mainly to remind myself that ultimately, everything is theory. I care about what works. What creates magic in my life.

This I know: the mind, left to itself, repeats the same stories, the same loops. Mostly ones that don't serve us. So what's practical, what's transformative, is to consciously choose a thought. Then practice it again and again. With emotion, with feeling, with acceptance.

Lay down the synaptic pathways until the mind starts playing it automatically. Do this with enough intensity over time and the mind will have no choice. That's how it operates. Where do you think your original loops came from?

The goal, if there is one, is to practice until the thought you chose becomes the primary loop. Until it becomes the filter through which you view life. Then practice some more.

Sounds like work. Perhaps. But the nature of mind is thought. Choose one that transforms you, makes your life zing. The one I found, "I love myself," is the most powerful one I know. You might discover another. Regardless, please do it.

It is worth it.

Magic

I finish at the gym, walk outside, and sit on a wall by the driveway. Indian summer evening in San Francisco. Breezy, cool, fog above downtown. Delicious.

I love my life, I find myself thinking, I love my life, I love my life, I love my life. The thought flows as naturally as the wind. I watch the skyline – people ask why I let my long hair fall in front of my eyes…it’s for moments like these, when I watch the world through wisps of silver – I love my life, I love my life.

Clouds move above, the thought shifts: I love myself, I love myself, I love myself, I love myself. I’m smiling, then grinning. All I am, my hopes, dreams, desires, faults, strengths, everything – I. Love. Myself.

If you can reach this point, even if it’s for a brief moment, it will transform you – I promise you that.

The key, at least for me, has been to let go. Let go of the ego, let go of attachments, let go of who I think I should be, who others think I should be. And as I do that, the real me emerges, far far better than the Kamal I projected to the world. There is a strength in this vulnerability that cannot be described, only experienced.

Am I this way each moment? No. But I sure as heck am working on it.

Thousands of years ago, a Roman poet wrote, “I am a human being, therefore nothing human is foreign to me.” I believe it to be true. So if this is possible for one human, it is possible for anyone. The path might be different, but the destination same.

Key is being open to loving ourselves. Once we do that, life casually takes care of the next steps.

Remain open to that one possibility and you’ll experience the beauty of watching the world around you dance its dance while inside, you fully accept this marvelous amazing human being you are. The feeling is, for lack of a better word, magic.

Surrender