*Typing*

It can be damn difficult to know when you're on the right path.

There are no neon signs, fireworks, mile markers nor thunderous voices echoing down from the heavens reassuring you that you are, in fact, on the right path.

Furthermore, the "right path" can often be challenging and terrifying and uncertain, which illicit a whole host of complicated emotions and fears that can lead you to believe that you have stumbled down the wrong path.

Before you turn around, make sure you're not feeling any of the following symptoms...

1. You are scared shitless
2. You feel like an imposter
3. You consider quitting
4. You self-sabatoge
5. You question if you're good enough
6. You look for excuses
7. You give into distraction

The further you work your way up the path, you will notice these symptoms give way to tremendous growth

1. You are scared shitless (but exhilarated)
2. You feel like an imposter (but a capable imposter)
3. You consider quitting (but you know you will regret it)
4. You self-sabatoge (but then dust yourself off)
5. You question if you're good enough (but realize no one is)
6. You look for excuses (but find none)
7. You give into distraction (but then get refocused)

When you are being called to embody your highest self, give in.

There is a fundamental difference between the craftsman and the artist.

Craftsmen know what they want to make before they make it.

A barista knows she wants to make a Café au lait before she makes a Cafe au lait. A carpenter knows he wants to build a staircase before he builds a staircase. A blacksmith knows they want to make a spade before they make a spade.

Artists, on the other hand, don't know what they want to make before they make it.

Vincent van Gogh didn't know he wanted to paint The Starry Night before he painted The Starry Night. Patti Smith didn't know she wanted to make Horses before she made Horses. Cormac McCarthy didn't know he wanted to write Blood Meridian before he wrote Blood Meridian.

Sure, these artists had an idea or a feeling or a sound or a sentiment they were hoping to capture. But, one can't simply plan to paint a masterpiece the likes of The Starry Night night.

The world needs craftspeople just like it needs artists. Neither is better than the other. However, if you're choosing to be an artist, you're choosing to forfeit certainty. You're choosing to journey into the unknown surrounded by the blackness of night with little more than the torch that is your skill, intuition and past experiences to light your way.

It's a courageous act and one not everyone is cut out for.

Herons are some of the best fishermen on the planet. They lurk along the banks like silent assassins, waiting for fish to swim near. Upon spotting their next meal, they will extend their neck until it's poker straight and stand as a still as a statue before driving their beak into the water and spearing their unsuspecting prey.

Interestingly enough, some Herons have forsaken fishing for hunting.

In parts of the world where there is a large gopher population, Herons have learned they can spear the rodents in the same way they spear fish. They will stalk open fields, tilting their heads to the left and right to pick-up on tiny vibrations in the ground and once they've honed in on their target, they will javelin their beaks into the ground, unearthing a lifeless gopher.

I found it to be an interesting reminder not to become overly attached to any one way of doing something.

Great athletes and artists tend to have peculiar habits that don't always immediately make sense. Two individuals that come to mind are Andre Agassi and John Wooden.

Andre Agassi obsessed over how his tennis bag was packed and organized...

“I obsess about my bag. I keep it meticulously organized, and I make no apologies for this anal retentiveness. The bag is my briefcase, suitcase, toolbox, lunchbox, and palette. I need it just right, always. The bag is what I carry onto the court, and what I carry off, two moments when all my senses are extra acute, so I can feel every ounce of its weight. If someone were to slip a pair of argyle socks into my tennis bag, I’d feel it. The tennis bag is a lot like your heart––you have to know what’s in it all times."

John Wooden obsessed over how his plays put on their socks and shoes...

"The first thing I would show players at our initial day of training was how to take a little extra time putting on their shoes and socks properly. The most important part of your equipment is your shoes and socks. You play on a hard floor. So you must have shoes that fit right. And you must not permit your socks to have wrinkles around the little toe––where you generally get blisters––or around the heels."

Agassi's need for a well-organized gym bag and Wooden's methodology for properly putting on one's socks and shoes seems obsessive. But, do these habits condition the athlete to approach their training and play with same level of obsession and care? 

The same tree can look like a dozen different trees depending on your perspective.

Press your nose against the trunk of a tree and you will see only chunky bark. Lie beneath a tree and look up, you will see intersections made up of branches and leaves. Climb the tree, take a seat on one of its outstretched limbs and look down, you will see its roots making ripples in the Earth likes ocean waves. Stand 200 yards back from a tree and you will see a tree that looks less like a tree and more like a large shrub or bush in the distance.

If you feel you're becoming pigeonholed in how you approach your work and life, change your perspective. If you normally workout at the end of the day, try working out at the start of it. If you normally listen to Bob Dylan, try listening to Chet Baker. If you normally start working after a cup of coffee, try skipping the caffeine and working in a sleepy, dream state. If you normally take hot showers, try turning the nozzle to cold. If you normally read self-help books, try cracking open a good piece of fiction.