#503 It must happen
You may not always know Why. Or How. Or What exactly.
And yet, you know that it Must happen.
Maybe that’s enough.
You may not always know Why. Or How. Or What exactly.
And yet, you know that it Must happen.
Maybe that’s enough.
When I don’t want to want anymore, and choose to act instead, I start becoming who I’ve always wanted to be.
Not right away. But day by day.
Lukas Van Vyve
It’s not about the book; it’s about the fact that you started writing consistently.
It’s not about the marathon; it’s about the fact that you started practicing diligently.
Achievements are the results that will soon become a distant memory.
Habits are the results you’ll carry with you for a lifetime.
When you do what you love, there are no more excuses that “you’d rather be doing something else.”
Which means there are no more excuses not to give it your best.
Being away from your that shelter of excuses can be scary. Or liberating. The choice is yours.
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.”
I can believe I’ve published the perfect insight – until I narrate the podcast version a couple of weeks later and suddenly notice subtle typos and, sometimes, logical flaws. The typos and flaws were always there – but did I make a mistake earlier?
I can believe I’ve nailed this yoga pose – until, during one session, I suddenly sense some tension in my neck I had never noticed before. The tension was always there – did I make a mistake earlier?
I can believe I’ve cooked the perfect dish – until one day, I notice that the sauce tastes even better with a little less salt. But, even before I noticed it, the improvement was always there – did I make a mistake earlier?
Maybe learning is not about errors but about gaining ever more subtle awareness.
The 1 minute you decide not to spend on writing.
The one sentence you decide not to read in the language you’re learning.
The one message you don’t send to a friend or relative.
The one Tiny Trust Builder that got away.
Luckily, tomorrow is a new day?