Even if we get a few papercuts along the way

When I first started my publishing business, a reader from a small island nation across the world bought one of my books.

This was long before ebooks had gone mainstream, so my digital delivery options were limited at the time.

When I arrived at the post office, they said it would cost forty dollars to ship. Forty dollars. For a fifteen dollar book. Insane.

The worst part was, there was this three page, convoluted form I had to fill out in order to meet regulatory standards. Blech. My worst nightmare.

Of course, I had nothing better to do that day. And frankly, I just was flattered that someone from another country wanted to buy my book.

What the hell. Filled out the form, paid the fee and sent the package out.

About a month later, that tattered envelope showed up in my mailbox. It had one of those red return to sender stamps on it.

I couldn’t translate what it said from the destination language, so I emailed my reader. He apologized for the inconvenience and explained how their local postal service had strict regulations on importing books. The man offered to pay for the cost of shipping if I was willing to resend it.

Of course, that would have required me to go to the post office and, yes, fill out my tedious paperwork again. And this is when my reactivity got the best of me.

Maybe I was having a bad day, maybe I was hungry, angry, tired and lonely; or maybe I simply wasn’t mature enough to cope with the moment. But I wrote the customer back and straight up lied to him.

Sir, the administrative and logistical expense to send my book to your country is unfeasible at this time. I have already refunded your money and I apologize for the inconvenience.

Not surprisingly, the man was furious. He wrote me back with multiple seething paragraphs about poor customer service, and how my country was full of entitled, rich fools who believed they were superior to developing nations. He vowed never to read any of my work ever again.

I wanted to crawl in a hole and never come out. My stomach dropped to my toes in abject horror.

You just ruined this person’s day, all because you didn’t want to take ten minutes to fill out a stupid form. Some stranger, five thousand miles away, was trying to give you money for your art, but because you don’t like doing paperwork, you basically told him, tough shit.

What simple task are you avoiding because of a low tolerance for frustration? How could you shift the focus from the process itself to its potential positive outcomes?

Listen, whether it’s paperwork or some other tedious activity, there’s only one technology that’s going to make things better.

Learning to have a more positive outlook towards life’s unpleasant realities.

If the reason we fail to execute important tasks is because we’re not mature enough to spend ten minutes doing something uncomfortable that we don’t want to do, then we’ve officially lost at life.

Because nobody wants to do anything. Ever. Relaying on desire is a faulty motivational strategy.

The real skill is getting ourselves over the hump and doing what needs to be done.

Even if we get a few papercuts along the way.

What if you became the kind of person who had patience for consuming, tedious and burdensome bureaucratic obligations?