*Typing*
You have no idea what you're missing.
I coulda been a contender.
You don't want to meet your Doppelgänger.
At least not according to German Folklore, where a Doppelgänger is your malevolent spirit double intent on seeing to your ruin.
In The Double, Fyodor Dostoyevsky writes of an unlucky man who crosses paths with his Doppelgänger. The man is driven mad by his Doppelgänger's tremendous success who has triumphed everywhere the man has failed.
Eventually, the Doppelgänger kills the man and exists in his place.
While creepy as hell, the German Folklore interpretation of a Doppelgänger fascinates me because it represents the dreams and aspirations we have for ourselves and how quickly those can morph into something that looks akin to a nightmare.
In On The Waterfront, Marlon Brando wrestles with his own Doppelgänger as he reflects on his career as a failed prize fighter, "I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody."
The only way you kill your Doppelgänger, is recognizing you were somebody before your dreams and that you will continue to be somebody after them; whether you're lucky enough to achieve them or not.

Suffer less.
Buddhists believe that we experience suffering when we want life to be different than what it is. If you share this belief, then the only way to rid yourself of suffering is to find acceptance in each of life's moments. This doesn't mean you won't experience pain. Life is scattered with painful moments: heartbreak, disappointment, injury, illness, death, debt, etc. But, pain isn't the same as suffering. Pain is what you feel when you stub and break your toe. Suffering is what you feel when you refuse to accept the fact that your toe is broken. Most of us spend the entirety of our lives refusing to accept the realities we find ourselves in. Because of this, we suffer greatly.

Through the fog.
Fog itself can't hurt you. It can't suffocate you. It can't swallow you. It can't cock back and sock you. Yet, fog is creepy. Terrifying, even.
There's a reason you see so much fog in horror movies. What's horrifying about fog isn't the fog itself but the uncertainty that fog represents. Three feet in front of you could be a flesh-eating werewolf or a cuddly litter of puppies. But, you will never know because of the fog.
To navigate through fog without losing your mind, you must let go of certainty. Yes. You must get comfortable existing despite not having certainty. Humans struggle with this. We want certainty around every choice that we make.
But, if you wait to act until you know the answer, you will live life standing still.

Jason Statham has figured something out.
When I think about reinvention, I think about Bob Dylan pulling out an electric guitar at the Newport Folk Music Festival. He was violently booed off stage and it was rumored that Pete Seeger cut his power cords with an axe.
Reinvention is one path to success as a creative––but it’s not the only path.
Jason Statham is the antithesis of Bob Dylan. He plays the same role in every movie: an unsuspecting badass-in-disguise that unleashes hell on bad guys everywhere. Some could argue he should reinvent himself. However, every time Jason Statham is asked to be Jason Statham on the big screen, he fetches a payout of $25 million.
Furthermore, as a movie-goer, you don’t go see a Jason Statham film to watch Jason Statham be anyone besides Jason Statham. You see a Jason Statham film because you want consistency. You want Jason Statham.
Consistency is another path towards creative success.

Playing with placebo.
A chargrilled slab of Branzino with a heap of Chimichurri tastes far better and fresher when enjoyed by the ocean. This isn’t because it necessarily is better and fresher, though. These days, with transportation as swift as it is, you can eat a piece of Branzino for dinner in Nashville, Tennessee that was swimming off the coast of San Francisco that morning. Branzino tastes better and fresher by the ocean because of placebo.
Placebo is important to the creative process. If a hot cup of coffee in a heavy ceramic mug makes you feel more creative, you’re more creative. If a cigar in a dimly lit lounge makes you feel more creative, you're more creative. If a vinyl humming faintly in the background of your home at 2 p.m. on a Sunday makes you feel more creative, you're more creative.
Play with placebo. Find the environment that makes you feel most creative and return to it, again and again.
