My Misogi

Hey,

Welcome back — Day Thirty

Misogi is a Japanese Shinto practice of cleansing the body and mind. Traditionally, it involves water — cold-water immersion or standing under a waterfall — to signify purification. Over time, the concept evolved into something else: a year-defining challenge. Something so difficult, so uncomfortable, that it forces you to confront your fears.

Misogi is the thing you don’t want to do. The thing that makes your stomach tighten and that cowardly little Gollum voice pipe up once more to whisper, “Hehe, not today you don’t.”

This challenge has been my Misogi.

I’m not someone who naturally puts myself out there. I’ve gotten better at it, but like everyone, I still deal with FOPO — Fear of Other People’s Opinions. I was afraid of the visibility, the unknown, and the possibility of failure.

These are the things that hold us back. The things that keep us in neutral when we should be in drive. These are the separators between who we are and who we could be.

When I felt that — yet again — I knew I had to go for it.

This was something I never thought I’d do.

But now, I’m really glad I did.

I first heard about Misogi when Jesse Itzler mentioned it on My First Million. Then, Shopify President Harley Finkelstein brought it up on The Rich Roll Podcast. Since then, I’ve seen it pop up a few more times.

I like the idea that, twenty years from now, I can look back and say:
"Oh yeah, 2025 — that was the year I wrote publicly for thirty days."
"2026 — that was the year I ran my first marathon. (Maybe).”

Whatever the challenge, whatever the fear — one monumental thing every year.
That’s pretty damn cool.

I’ve referenced Matthew McConaughey and Greenlights several times throughout this challenge. I like his writing. He’s lived a crazy life and has the stories to match it.

In Greenlights, he writes about what green, yellow, and red lights mean to him:

“A greenlight is being kind to our future self. It’s things in our life that affirm our way—they say, ‘go, proceed, more, please carry on.’ While yellow and red lights make us slow down in life—they can be crisis, hardship, intervention, interruption.”

Misogi and this concept go hand in hand.

Resistance, fears, doubts — these are the yellow and sometimes red lights. Misogi embraces them, and I’ve learned that this challenge was about doing the same.

Because eventually, red lights turn yellow. And yellows turn green.

This challenge has been wild.

In this moment, I don’t feel different from the person I was a month ago. But I know I’ve grown. I know I trust myself more to step into the unknown, deal with problems on the fly, and commit to myself in the face of discomfort.

I’ve gotten in touch with myself in ways I never had before. I’ve explored new creative avenues, strengthened what I know to be true, and learned things I never expected.

I feel closer to people than I did before this challenge. I know I’ve improved as a writer and editor. And I’ve come to love the intricate puzzle that is putting a story on paper.

As I said, I don’t feel different — but maybe that’s the point. The line between who we are and who we can be is thinner than we think.

Rally is about movement, yes. But as much as it is movement, it’s about storytelling and people. Through this, I got to tell a few of my stories.

Maybe I’ll tell a few more in the future. Maybe, someone else will.

I’ll write a shorter piece tomorrow, mostly to acknowledge some people. After that, I won’t be touching Google Docs for a good while — I can promise you that.

For now:

Thank you.

To anyone who joined in on this challenge.
To anyone who dared to sit down and write alongside me.
To anyone who even opened their laptop and read an entry or two.

Lots of love to you all.

Appreciate you being here,

Rory O.

Rally On.