You don’t need a motivational speech.
But you may need a reminder of who you choose to be, and what the person you choose to be would do right now.
And once you remember, you’ll have all the motivation you need.
Why do you love writing, despite the fact that the act of writing is often a drag?
Why do you love running, despite the fact that the act of going for a run is often a chore?
Why do you love learning languages, despite the fact that the act of practicing is often riddled with frustration?
Why do you love it so much?
And wouldn’t it feel good to remind yourself of that love every day… so you make sure the love is there to stay?
In the pursuit of our ambitions, we often create intricate plans, detailed routines, and exhaustive checklists.
But when these complexities start to feel more like obstacles than aids, it might be time to strip things back.
Where are you overcomplicating? Is it in the planning, the execution, or perhaps the goal itself?
Seeking the simplest way is not always the easiest. But more often than not, it’s the most effective.
It’s easy to be non-violent when you’re in a flower garden
Josh Waitzkin – The art of learning
It’s easy to be kind to others when the world has always been kind to you.
It’s easy to say you want to be a writer when you never really put yourself out there to prove it.
To learn writing, I must confront the uncomfortable parts of writing – and learn not to respond by running away from it.
To learn non-violence, I must confront violence – and learn not to respond with violence in return.
To learn kindness, I must confront being hurt – and learn not to use that as an excuse to perpetuate the cycle of hurt.
To build trust in myself, I must stay true to my values under difficult conditions.
If I don’t write the post I intended to write, I actively avoid the desired result of my writing.
If I don’t do the workout I intended to do, I actively avoid the desired result of my workout (being in better shape, running a new PR,…)
If I don’t have the difficult conversation I intended to have, I actively avoid the desired result of that conversation.
Inaction is not the lack of action.
Inaction is taking active action to avoid working towards the result you desire.
The real question, then, is:
Why do I actively avoid working toward a desired result?
Am I worried that even if I write daily, I’ll never become a skilled writer?
Am I worried I won’t enjoy writing anymore if I ever get recognition?
Am I worried that writing every day will turn me into a skilled writer, but being a professional writer won’t be fulfilling?
P.S. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I only have a limited repertoire of examples in this newsletter, my friend
I trust you to apply the insight to your situation.
And maybe, when you’re pondering the question above, you’ll come to the same conclusion as me:
That more often than not, I’m more interested in the comfort of “wanting” something I don’t have than in “taking action to get something.”
No one really knows what they’re doing, no matter how loud they shout.
So don’t have to know what you’re doing yet before you start out.
Isn’t that a reassuring thought?
Go slow.
Go steady.
Do whatever it takes.
But don’t wait to go until you feel ready.
