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.
Most people don’t see why you’re taking time out of your busy day to sit down and write until the book you were working on every day lies in front of them.
They don’t see why you run every day and eat clean until you set a personal best at the next marathon.
They don’t see the new product you’re working on until it’s developed so far that it helps them achieve their goals.
You’re the only one who sees the method to your madness.
And that’s fine.
Because you probably don’t see the method to their madness either.
Experience can make you better at performing an activity but also blind you from what you could do differently (and better).
Sometimes, the only way to innovate, see, and be free, is to take your experience goggles off.
You don’t need to feel motivated to write a sentence.
You don’t even need to want to write to have words appear on the screen or the paper.
You just need to be reminded that you want to be a writer.
And writers write, just like runners run. Musicians make music. Parents parent. Yogis do yoga. Farmers farm.
Even if they don’t feel like it.
Even when the cure is available, we never let our body heal, because what would we do if we couldn’t complain about our ailments anymore?
Even when true love presents itself, we push it away, because what would we do if we can’t complain about partners leaving us anymore?
Even when friends and family show support, we don’t allow it, because what would we do if we can’t say anymore that everyone is out to screw us over?
Would we rather stay stubborn? Would we rather stay comfortable in our uncomfortable misconceptions?
Am I doing this because of who I want to be? Or in spite of who I want to be?
Do I act a certain way automatically?
Who or what made me believe it’s a necessity?
Do I even know who I want to be?
Questions that lead to intentional living.
I could decide that writing less than 1000 words a day would be a failure – and I would be correct.
I could decide that writing more than 50 words a day would be a failure – and I would be correct.
I could decide that not writing today would be failure – and I would be correct.
After all, for many things in life, you get to decide yourself what’s failure and what’s success.
In fact, my friend, just like me you may have already decided for yourself what’s failure and what’s success.
And just like me, you may need a reminder of that decision once in a while, so you can verify if it still serves you.
This is that reminder.
Which serves me well, because my decision was that writing you this short daily letter is exactly right.
See you tomorrow.
