#182 Uncertain future visions

ByLukas
|

I can say I want to run a marathon, write a book, or have a successful career – which doesn’t mean I’ll actually end up running a marathon, writing a book, or having a successful career.

But if I’m serious about it, it does mean I’ll take daily steps towards that goal – daily actions that will change my identity.

Can I live with the present-day implications of my uncertain future visions?

If I don’t know yet if I’ll ever write the book – will these daily actions still be fulfilling to me?

Will they make me happier?

Will I be happy with the person I become by taking such daily actions?

Do these daily actions contribute to a fulfilling emotional, mental, physical, and social life?

If not, am I willing to make emotional, mental, physical, or social sacrifices?

This is a choice everyone makes for themselves.

But I don’t want to make my present day miserable for an uncertain vision of the future I don’t even know will happen.

Similar Posts

  • |

    #236 The Myth of Full Engagement

    ByLukas

    When I write, I write.
    When I practice yoga, I practice yoga.
    When I talk with friends, I talk with friends.

    Or at least, I wish it were like that.

    Because you and I both know how distracted the mind can be, my friend.

    You don’t even need to meditate to figure that out.

    So the mind needs a reminder once in a while.

    “What’s truly important right now?”

    I’ll be practicing every day.

  • | |

    #32 Before I learned not to listen

    ByLukas

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would stand
    seemingly still
    but secretly swaying
    swallowed up by a willow tree
    and its play with the wind

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would hold my head against the rind
    reach
    reconnect with an old friend
    the way it has always felt best
    cheek pressed to chest

    Before I learned not to listen
    a breeze in the leaves
    rustling ruminating
    would sound like raindrops in my ears
    making my eyes answer
    with a torrent of tears

    Before I learned not to listen
    a rolling thunder
    thumping like a beating heart
    would rumble from my cheek to my ear
    replacing my fear
    with a memory I used to held dear
    we were never really apart

    Before I learned not to listen
    before the lust for language
    reduced what I could see
    and sense within
    I would allow the whispers of the wordless world
    speak to me like kin

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would accept
    that once upon a time
    I remembered your name
    and once upon a time we both knew
    we were one and all the same

    Lukas Van Vyve

  • #9 Admiring early work

    ByLukas

    Admiring (flawed) early work is easy when we already know the late work is going to be great.

    Everyone forgives Picasso or Da Vinci for a lousy early sketch. In fact, people pay good money to hang one in their living room.

    Maybe the early work, showing that even the greats are mere mortals on a journey towards excellence, is the most valuable?

    And yet, it’s much harder to be gentle on a beginning artist for shipping mediocre creative work – not in the least for the beginning artist themselves – when their path to excellence hasn’t unfolded yet.

    After all, something that one day will be “my early work” is still “my current best work” today.

    The road to excellence is invisible from the trenches.

    But that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

    Which makes me wonder…

    When I know that through persistence and daily practice, one day, I’ll look back on today’s creation, smiling, thinking: “Oh how far I’ve come… How much I’ve learned… And some of this was actually pretty good…”

    Can I admire my creative work less for what it looks, feels, or sounds like, and more for who I’m becoming through making it?

    Can I do the same for the creative projects of others?

    With that mindset… How much easier and forgiving would the daily creative journey be?

  • |

    #175 Perpetuating painful comfort

    ByLukas

    We naturally move towards pleasure and away from pain – with one exception: painful comfort.

    If you’re used to believing that you’re bad at languages, there’s painful comfort in struggling with languages.

    If you’re used to negative self-talk, there’s painful comfort in negative self-talk.

    If you’re used to working 12-hour days, there’s painful comfort in working 12-hour days.

    If you’re used to constant conflict, there’s painful comfort in constant conflict.

    If you’re used to neglect, there’s painful comfort in neglect.

    Painful comfort is keeping you comfortable AND hurting you.

    Years of conditioning have given it an irresistible pull – until you decide to take a leap of faith and start believing that you, too, can change.

    Where are you perpetuating painful comfort in life?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *