I woke up this morning with these words stuck in my head, and as I went through my morning ritual – reading, meditation, showering, dressing – they naggingly wound their way into my thoughts.
Do what needs to be done
Do what needs to be done
Do what needs to be done
Okay … there are lots of things that need to be done I told myself, and I’d already done a bunch of them since waking: fed and let the dog out, gathered the laundry, filled the dishwasher and started it, wiped the breadcrumbs off the countertop. “Do what needs to be done” wasn’t just about the wash, rinse, repeat cycle of everyday scutwork, though.
The phrase resonated with me on another level, so I typed away on Google, and I stumbled upon a couple of quotes by Shoma Morita. Dr. Morita (1874-1938), a contemporary of Freud, said this:
Accept your feelings
Know your purpose
And do what needs to be done
And this:
Give up on yourself. Begin taking positive action now while being neurotic or imperfect, or a procrastinator, or unhealthy, or lazy, or any other label by which you inaccurately describe yourself. Go ahead and be the best imperfect person you can be and get started on those things you want to accomplish before you die.
In creating Saucy Copy with Hadley, I realized I kept taking action in spite of feeling anxious about starting a new venture. There are no guarantees in life, but in taking action, moving forward, stepping into the unknown, there is one guarantee. Things will change. We will, most definitely, grow beyond our present circumstances.
And from Goethe, this bit of inspiration:
Action has magic, grace and power in it.
We’re looking forward to the changes that bring magic, energy and new experiences. There are many kinds of things in our lives that need “doing.” The things that scare us, that ask us to take a risk. And the everyday things. As for those small, daily chores I perform, to my chagrin sometimes with annoyance and boredom, I’m going to endeavor to bring a quiet focus and appreciation to them for the simple reason that I have the ability to do them at all. They are small but constant reminders of all that I’m fortunate to enjoy and have in my life.
— Mary