A few months ago, I was stuck in what I call the "comparison trap." Every scroll through social media felt like watching highlight reels of everyone else’s success. My inner voice had turned into a full-time critic: You aren’t qualified. You started too late. Who do you think you are?
Murphy argues that your conscious mind is the "captain" and your subconscious is the "crew." You can tell the crew to sail to Hawaii (success, confidence, love), but if the captain whispers, "We’ll probably hit an iceberg," the crew follows that order instead.
In a desperate attempt to quiet the noise, I went digging through old Kindle deals. I spent $0.99 on a PDF of Joseph Murphy’s 1960s classic, Believe in Yourself .
I expected dusty platitudes. What I got was a psychological crowbar.
You don't lack talent. You lack permission. Joseph Murphy is here to give it to you. Have you read Believe in Yourself ? Did it click for you, or did it feel too dated? Let me know in the comments below.
Let me start with a confession.
A few months ago, I was stuck in what I call the "comparison trap." Every scroll through social media felt like watching highlight reels of everyone else’s success. My inner voice had turned into a full-time critic: You aren’t qualified. You started too late. Who do you think you are?
Murphy argues that your conscious mind is the "captain" and your subconscious is the "crew." You can tell the crew to sail to Hawaii (success, confidence, love), but if the captain whispers, "We’ll probably hit an iceberg," the crew follows that order instead.
In a desperate attempt to quiet the noise, I went digging through old Kindle deals. I spent $0.99 on a PDF of Joseph Murphy’s 1960s classic, Believe in Yourself .
I expected dusty platitudes. What I got was a psychological crowbar.
You don't lack talent. You lack permission. Joseph Murphy is here to give it to you. Have you read Believe in Yourself ? Did it click for you, or did it feel too dated? Let me know in the comments below.
Let me start with a confession.