The Addictive Power of Surprise

Have you ever surprised yourself? Maybe you thought you couldn't bake a soufflé, but you tried anyway, and it turned out flawlessly. Maybe you've always said you wouldn't go skydiving, but you tried it on a whim and realized you had more courage than you imagined. Or maybe, despite all the stories living in your mind, you thought you could never actually write an entire novel, but you started typing (or writing by hand) and didn't stop until you got every last bit of that story out of your brain.

We tell ourselves stories about who we are and what we can and can't do, and we often allow those stories to limit us. But the element of surprise is powerful enough to rewrite those stories. We can shock ourselves not only by accomplishing things we never even thought about trying but also by making progress on the things we've always longed to do but thought we weren't good enough to achieve. Often, one surprise leads to another. The more you amaze yourself, the more you're willing to step out of your comfort zone and grow, leading to even greater astonishment later. And you might even inspire someone else to start surprising themselves!

For example, I've never been very good at exercising regularly. I was a swimmer in high school but have done relatively little exercise in the years since. Because I'm a creature of the water, I detest land exercises. I've always hated running, and I told myself and others that I was a terrible runner.

So imagine my surprise when, a little over a year ago, I started running. What made me lose my mind in such a way? Well, it was a combination of a minor health issue that made me want to be more active and the inspiration I got from watching my brother-in-law achieve many milestones in his own running journey.

I didn't take time to think about it too much because I knew that if I did, I would talk myself out of it. So, feeling like a complete idiot, I started training for a 5K that would take place in only seven weeks. The first few weeks were brutal. After my first run, in which I only ran a few intervals of sixty seconds each, I felt like dying. My legs were jelly. My lungs cursed me. My stomach revolted.

But I kept training and, strangely, came to enjoy running. I completed that 5K feeling on top of the world (after a few minutes of feeling as if I might throw up). I didn't stop, even when I wanted to give up. And you know what? That feeling was addictive. Even after my personal achievement of finishing the race, I didn't stop running. I ran another 5K the following spring, and then another one three weeks ago. With each race, I improved my time and learned more about myself and my capabilities. Running opened my eyes to so many possibilities for my life I had never considered before.

Now what does this have to do with writing? I'm getting there, I promise.

Although becoming a runner kind of came out of nowhere for me, I've always known I wanted to be a writer. And yet, I've always struggled to write. Maybe you can relate. (After all, everyone knows that 90 percent of the writing life is complaining about how you're not writing!) Somehow actually writing an entire book seemed like an impossible task, something only a better person than I could accomplish.

But after my small victories with running, I was inspired to make more positive changes in my life. If I could go from not being able to run for even thirty seconds straight to running for thirty minutes straight (longer now!), what else was I capable of?

I'd had many story ideas floating around in my head for most of my life and often alternated which one I was focused on developing at any given moment. But a new idea had been forming for a few months, and it felt more concrete than any of the others ever had. I was more excited about it than I had ever been about an idea. It actually felt possible.

So, once again allowing no time to talk myself out of it, and spurred on by my triumphant progress with running, I started writing a novel. Those first few weeks were hard. I had to adjust my expectations. And since I didn't really know how to start a novel, I felt a little lost as I began to type. But still, I began.

Then something changed. The more I wrote, the more I could write. My productivity and creativity increased. The words flew from my fingertips. Not every day was good, just like not every run is a good run, but I had more good writing days than bad ones.

And then, roughly six months after I started, I finished the first draft of my novel. Forget a 5K; that was a marathon! But the training I'd gone through in my running had taught me quite a few lessons that also applied to writing. I learned how to relax and find a rhythm. I now knew how to recover from overexertion without giving up. I discovered that, although it didn't always feel like it, I was in control of my body and my mind. I found joy in the beginning and the doing, not just the ending. I celebrated the good days and learned from the bad days. And, perhaps most importantly, I realized that consistent practice, not flawless performance, was what led to improvement.

What stories have you been telling yourself? Maybe you've always thought you couldn't do something or weren't good enough to finish something you started. Those are lies, my friend. All it takes is one tiny victory to prove it. One surprise. Think back to a time when you accomplished some small victory. How did that feel? Remember that astonished triumph, that pleasant bubble of laughter in your chest. It's addictive, isn't it? Allow yourself to pursue that feeling again. Chase your writing dreams, and surprise yourself by taking the first step right now. Don't leave time to talk yourself out of it.

I get it. With the end of the year approaching, everyone is busy. And January will bring New Year's resolutions that few will keep. But I want to challenge you, writer. Try something you've never done before, especially as it relates to writing. Do the scary thing.

If you've always feared poetry, write a terrible poem and stick it up on your fridge as a reminder that you are brave and capable. If you shy away from short stories, write one and see how it feels. You might find out it's your best medium. If you've always thought you didn't like a certain genre, try it out. The right one might shock you.

​And if you've always dreamed of writing a novel but never had the courage to start one and stick with it all the way to the end, go for it. I promise that starting is the hardest part. Once you begin, you know you can do it because you've done it before. Then it's just a matter of perseverance. Once you surprise yourself by starting, the only surprise left is that there's nothing you can't do.