Before it can be about good writing, it must be about consistent writing.
Before it can be about running PRs, it must be about running consistently.
Before it can be about , it must be about being in that yoga pose in the first place.
Before it can be about fulfilment, it must be about doing something that fulfills you in the first place.
Before it can be about the content, it must be about the consistency.
Knowledge transfer always implies time collapse. Because learning an insight from someone else usually takes less long than figuring it out yourself.
Take books. The writer usually spent considerable time researching and distilling the topic and coming to good insights (time I might not be able to dedicate).
Thanks to that writer, I can now consume that knowledge in, say 6-12 hours of reading the book. A considerable time collapse…
But when does time collapse go to far?
Can I read a 1-page summary of that book and truly say I grasp the topic?
When your brain gets space to breathe, knowledge grows and nuance shows. It needs time and repeated exposure to absorb information, make connections, and discover new insights.
So a one-page summary isn’t necessarily too shallow… On the contrary: it collapses time so much that information becomes very dense.
What with the evolution towards short-form online content? The primary purpose of TikTok videos and Instagram reels might be to entertain, but the trend is clear and spills over into education, our attention span, and knowledge transfer: shorter, more shallow, yet more dense.
Too little time collapse and we can’t make progress.
Too much time collapse and knowledge collapses with it.
The trick to successful habit-building: make daily practice easy.
We often do the opposite: we make weekly practice hard.
If I tell myself I’m going to post one long blog post every week, I’ll find a million reasons not to write for the first six days until I have no choice but to write.
But if I tell myself I will post daily, the longest I can procrastinate is… 12 hours?
And after a week, I’ve practiced my publishing habit 7 times.
So it goes for meditation, yoga, running, and any skill or habit.
Make the daily practice easy.
Performance gap: the frustrating gap between how you know something should be done in an ideal world and how you currently do it.
One implication of the performance gap: you don’t have to master this skill today.
Another implication, maybe even more important: your idea of how something “should be done” is probably wrong anyway.
Because as you practice and gain mastery, you’ll also gain progressive insight: a more nuanced intellectual understanding of the skill you’re practicing.
What I thought was a “good” yoga session six months ago, I now see as a session full of misalignment and cramped muscles.
What I thought of as a solid piece of writing six months ago, I now see as an argument full of holes and points of improvement.
Sometimes, progressive insight is just about more nuances.
Sometimes, progressive insight shows that your initial intellectual understanding completely missed the mark.
There’s only one way to find out: practice: Sculpt away, day by day.
Today could be the day you become who you’ve always wanted to be.
All it takes is one small change.
I used to do this.
But from now on, I do that.
I guess all I really want to say today is:
There’s something you’re doing great at.
There always is.
Can you see it?
Completion projects leads to restless rushing, an achievement, then a black hole. Indecision.
I got the promotion. I wrote the book. I finished the degree. I built the house. I sold the business. Now who am I… and what’s next?
Consistency projects lead to a change in habits and identity. Every day, I do what I believe to be true to who I am. As a result, every day, I’m becoming who I truly want to be.
Consistency projects are true life projects, because they’re about taking daily actions and installing habits, never-ending until they come to their natural conclusion.
I’ll write every day without ever thinking I’m writing my last words. Now I’m a writer… until one day, I feel: the season of writing is over.
You’ll tend to gardens, plants, and trees every day without ever thinking this is the last flower you’ll hold in your hand… until one day, you feel: the season of tree-tending is over.
We take care of our children from the moment they’re born, without thinking about letting them go. Now we’re caretakers… until one day, we feel: the season of caretaking is over.
We’ll breathe every day, without ever thinking about breathing our last breath. Now we’re breathers… until one day, we feel: the season of breathing is over.
Lukas Van Vyve
