The Beast

In the three and half years since we started Yes Theory, there were at least ten times we wanted to call it a day and quit.

Where we thought it would be over soon regardless.

We were on the verge of giving it all up.

We were broke.

We had never studied filmmaking.

Our YouTube views were dipping.

Our parents were calling to ask if we’d lost our minds.

And in those moments, the voice would start to come up.

You know the voice.

Endurance athletes call it The Beast.

The Beast sounds like this… “C’mon dude, give up... Don’t do it. You’ll fail and that’s okay. You’re just not good enough. And you know what, it would feel so damn nice to be drinking a Piña colada on the beach instead of doing this, wouldn’t it?”

The Beast tempts you with images of relaxation and comfort. 

He magnifies your most evident flaws.

The greater the discomfort, the louder he gets.

The farther out on a limb you go, the more The Beast shakes the tree.

So, you have to learn to expect him.

You have to learn to recognize his arrival.

But more importantly, you have to befriend him.

If you are going to seek discomfort, seek growth, you must learn to love The Beast.

Otherwise, he’ll knock you out.

As ultrarunner, Lisa Smith-Batchen, said: “I love the Beast. I actually look forward to the Beast showing up, because every time he does, I handle him better. I get him more under control.”

The more you experience the presence of The Beast, the more familiar he becomes.

And the joy is in seeing him for what he really is...

Harmless.

Silly, even.

You’ll embrace him.

Keep him around.

Because you know that if he’s by your side.

Well, you’re right where you’re supposed to be.

Love,

Matt