16 Daily Mantras That Saved Me From Antisocial, Apathetic Behavior

Last year, I started an unusual job. This new job allowed me to take 6 months off work. That’s a lot of free time…

I struggled without a regular routine. Some days I woke up directionless. Other days, undisciplined and reclusive.

Here’s some mantras that helped me get through.

1.) Borrow inspiration — or steal it.

I love to write and produce music. With so much time off, I thought I’d thrive creatively and capitalize.

But I didn’t.

Life became static, void of energy, void of anything gripping.

I got stuck. I put too much pressure on “being creative.” I tried to force it.

Great artists know the patterns that lead to great art.

As a creator, it’s useful to listen — to let the work of others speak to you. To guide you. Or humble you.

I decided to borrow inspiration.

I became a consumer, a listener, which informed me to produce again. I accepted what other great works had to offer, then I used it as a template for my own.

Nothing is entirely original — copy what works.

2.) Simplify.

Without a schedule, the possibilities are endless — which is a horrific way to live. How can you act when you can do “anything and everything?”

I needed to turn possibilities into priorities.

I needed to value some things over others.

I needed to get specific about my intentions, so I could aim and structure my days properly.

I decided my health mattered.

I decided my intimate relationship mattered (a lot).

I decided my growth as an individual mattered to me greatly…

I acted accordingly.

3.) Be ready for the unknown opportunity.

I found it harder to take care of myself without limits on when I could do so. I’d overeat, oversleep, and overindulge because I didn’t have anything to be ready for.

Restriction creates urgency.

I made a mental switch. I started believing each day would present an opportunity — to help, to communicate, to achieve something.

I adopted the belief I had opportunities I needed to be alert and prepared for, which prompted me to take better care of myself.

4.) Remain curious.

As I went through periods of ease, there was a lull in my enthusiasm about life.

Nothing mattered. Nothing challenged me. Nothing needed my attention.

So I made up reasons.

I got really curious. I studied Søren Kierkegaard for a week. I questioned strangers at the store. I drove an extra 15 minutes to go somewhere new.

I created novelty out of thin air.

Curiosity is the antidote to boredom.

5.) Everyone is your friend.

I’m introverted. Sometimes I feel threatened by other people needing my time and energy. At my worst, I resent those I’m close to :(

On certain days, I offset my introversion with the idea that everyone liked and needed me.

This might sound delusional, but I needed reminders that relationships are full of meaning.

6.) Believe it anyways.

Taking on this new job meant leaving my first church home.

I struggled to uphold my faith without the same spiritual structure.

Without a guiding moral principle, I lean towards nihilism — the idea that nothing matters. I began to feel that in my heart. I was sliding into a state of apathy.

I desperately needed to prioritize God.

So I prayed anyways.

I read the Bible anyways.

I believed my faith in God was sufficient outside the confines of a building.

7.) Show and tell.

During my time off, I lost track of time.

Days began to overlap and blend into obscurity.

I went through phases where my memory felt defunct.

The problem? I wasn’t applying my thoughts to anything (or anyone). I wasn’t engaging in any kind of redemptive process.

I started to recall my thoughts more often. I’d write in my journal. I’d tell my roommates about my day. I’d recount what I’d read the night before instead of consuming another Youtube video.

This was beneficial for a couple reasons: one, it instilled a sense of transparency in my behavior (knowing I’d share what I’d done). Two, it improved my memory to summarize my daily encounters.

8.) Respect the quality of your contact.

The more I disassociated from the regular work-life balance, the more impersonal I became and the less I valued social interaction.

I started to put effort into all of my interactions — even the small ones.

I tried my hardest to accommodate the server at Starbucks. I said “hi” to people in passing at the gym (genuinely, not reluctantly). I tried to imbue integrity in the way I approached society at large.

This reminded me of the good in sharing with other people.

9.) Quiet your inner b*tch.

During my time off work, life had become so predictable and easy, I’d become lazy, both mentally and physically.

I started calling out my “inner bitch.” That’s the voice in my head that tries to talk myself out of doing something difficult or necessary.

I got serious about working out, more than I’d been in previous years. I started running consistently and lifting weights more strategically. I pushed myself into physical exertion everyday because it was a form of “work” I could do.

I remembered this mantra every time I made an excuse.

10.) Habits compound.

At the end of last year, I started reading Atomic Habits by James Clear. I started noticing my cues — things that nudge me towards “bad behavior.”

I cut those out.

For example, I took instagram off my phone and stopped drinking IPA’s before bed. They were subconcious cues for me to engage in unwanted behavior. The sensation they brought usually lead me to do something I would later regret.

On the other hand, I realized the compounding effect of small, positive actions. I started making my bed in the morning. I cleaned one tiny part of my bathroom each time I entered. These things added up overtime.

11.) Tone and energy decide what you say.

I work in direct sales now, which means I initiate hundreds of cold-contact conversations every day.

While learning the job, I became obsessed with the tone of my voice and non-verbal cues. I read about the effect of inflection. I learned about the influence of pitch, silence, and volume in speech.

During this time, it was beneficial for me to realize that non-verbal cues are more important than conscious word-choice. This propelled me to embody what I say — and mean what I say.

12.) Laughing is healing and bonding.

I’m usually a serious, pragmatic person. I try to do things right. I try to be agreeable. Socially, I’m reserved.

This’ll sound weird, but I find it very satisfying to watch a group of people crack up in laughter — that phrase, “crack up” is so interesting. It’s as if people break apart from their formal self when they experience true laughter.

Reminding myself of this phenomena gave me reason to not take myself so serious. There are reasons to laugh and smile each day. Humor is one of the rare methods to combat the heaviness of day-to-day monotony.

13.) Act first, explain later.

I’m usually keenly aware of what I should do. I know what’s best for me, in theory, logically, if I disassociate from my ego, instincts, and urges.

I don’t do that enough.

Sometimes, in social settings I give in to peer pressure. I go with the group. I give way to the lowest common moral, which is dangerous.

I learned that it’s sometimes better to act urgently on my convictions, rather than wait, seeking approval from others. This isn’t a nod towards impulsivity or irrationality; it’s about trusting my moral compass before it’s too late.

14.) Admit your privilege.

Growing up, I was not a grateful person. Like literally, I did not know how to express gratitude, it was not explicitly modeled for me as a child.

The gospel changed that.

I was living in a 2D-world before I learned about my relationship to Good and Evil. The Bible added depth. The “big picture” became 3-dimensional, in the most fundamental sense, once I accepted God into my heart and soul.

I was able to see the world more clearly and understand my actions more precisely. I recognized how much I have to be thankful for. More importantly, the Word put me in deference to a higher order (God) and humbled me.

15.) Authenticity over people-pleasing.

I become a vague, shell of a human when I don’t take inventory of my thoughts and emotions seriously; this happens when I yield to social norms, or superfluous input from other people.

I think this stems from a place of fear. Of conflict, maybe.

If I place too much concern on the opinion (judgement) of other people, I cloud who I am. I hide my true thoughts. I resort to flattery, listening only to speak, not to understand.

16.) Be good to yourself.

Every day, there’s an all-out-war in my head between right and wrong.

There’s the “me” that wants to be disciplined, upright, and work hard. Then there’s the “me” that wants to throw off responsibility, indulge, and destroy.

I like to view myself as a separate person I’m responsible for taking care of. To do that, I deny myself — the part of me that is weak, stupid, and foolish. This is the precursor to proper self-care. Good cannot emerge without self-denial.