The comfort zone is where dreams die slowly. In 54, Stefano De Cubellis shares what happens when you choose to leave it, letter by letter.
From Letter 01 — Here we go again
The rest is noise in a town of a thousand inhabitants whose name, Galluccio, means nothing to you.
From Letter 02 — Choosing who to be
I showed a version of me built to survive. A pile of habits collected over time — some from childhood when I was looking for attention, some from my teenage years when I was looking for respect, others from adulthood when I was trying to prove I could make it.
And at some point those habits took over and became me. "That's just who I am." "It's my nature." "That's how I work."
If your thoughts today are the same as yesterday, if your habits this week are the same as last year, if your reactions are always the same — what's left of your evolution?
From Letter 03 — The price no one wants to pay
Last week I told you about choosing who to be. About deliberate behaviors. About new habits that create new identity.
I didn't tell you that every time you have to make an important decision, your brain will always point you toward the wrong path. The one that seems easier. The one that postpones the problem until tomorrow. The familiar one, that welcomes you, that cradles you and tells you "come on, come here, after all you've already been comfortable on the couch, you know it feels good. You want to go down a road you don't know? Are you crazy, it's dangerous!"
But I knew it was a lie. I had trained my brain to understand when it lies to itself. I knew that if I stayed in that comfort zone I would never leave it. That I would continue building someone else's dream while telling myself I was building my own.
From Letter 04 — Week 4 of 54 — Happiness is a habit
Happiness is not a destination. It's a habit.
But I've learned that solitude isn't a problem to solve. It's a space to inhabit.
And like every habit, it's built one day at a time. One thought at a time. One choice at a time.
From Letter 05 — Week 5 of 54 — The real cancer
For me it happened around seventeen. I didn't understand it right away. At first it seemed like healthy ambition. It seemed like hunger. It seemed like the engine that would take me far from a town of a thousand inhabitants.
From Letter 06 — Week 6 of 54 — Monkey mind
One morning you wake up, have your coffee, and realize you're thinking in a way that four years ago you wouldn't have even known how to name.