I go to the gym, play volleyball, run, and land on yoga.
I speak, film, consult, and land on writing.
I sing, dance, drum, and land on playing the guitar.
When you’ve only ever seen one path for yourself all your life, it’s scarcity.
When you’ve opened your eyes, explored life, and consciously decided to take the path that aligns the most with who you want to be…
It’s destiny.
Explore.
It’s not about figuring out where you’d like to end up anymore – it’s about deciding where you must go.
Once you know that, there’s no stopping you anymore.
Left? Right? Give up? Keep going? Turn back?
Maybe I’ll end up where I must end up, no matter what I decide.
Maybe the flow of life will show me where to go.
Perfect recall is paralyzing.
Not everything is worth remembering.
And life isn’t better when you’re a bad forgetter.
Maybe life becomes easier to navigate if we remember the fact that we’ll always make mistakes – and the lessons we learn from them – yet forget (forgive) the specific slip-ups we and others make.
Sometimes I ask myself if you are asking yourself why I write you a short note every day, my friend.
Maybe I’m giving myself too much credit, and you’ve never asked yourself that question.
But I will answer it anyway, so let’s pretend you have.
Here’s the socially acceptable answer: for more than 200 days, I’ve been writing you a short note every day to remind you to make intelligent decisions about your life and who you want to be.
But as so often with us humans, the honest answer is more self-centered: I write you a short note every day to remind myself to make intelligent decisions about my life and who I want to be.
The fact that some insights are helpful to you is a nice bonus. But I would also write them if you have yet to read a single one of these insights.
Because to me, writing every day is a rallying cry for myself in an invisible battle that nobody might ever see – because it only exists in my head.
A battle against frustration, giving up, limiting beliefs, and a cage of social conditioning from which it’s hard to break free.
A battle to become who I’ve always wanted to be.
Yes, every note I write to you, my friend, is outward proof of a tiny inner victory, taking tiny steps towards more self-trust and fulfillment.
You may tell me I don’t have anything to prove to anyone, especially not myself.
And you may be right.
But I also know that we all have our battles to fight.
Battles about what we believe we deserve or not.
What we think we can do or not.
What we believe is possible for us or not.
What we desire.
Who we can be.
So while you might not be asking yourself why I write you something every day, I am asking myself which battles you are fighting.
I am looking for outward proof of your inner victories.
Whatever they are, when you shine a light on your invisible battles, I’ll be here to cheer you on.
der Musenkuss (German) The kiss of the Muse
Creativity becomes much easier if you see it as a game of finding new ways of describing what has always been there.
Observing, rather than inventing.
It’s liberating. Because now the game changes from pulling ideas out of thin air to a game of discovery. Observation. Paying attention. Building upon what’s already discovered, then connecting the dots in way nobody else has.
Most of all: listening, when the muse finally arrives and visits you for a kiss.
There’s this voice in my mind
Impossible to ignore
And yet I fill my head with noise
Drowning out
What deep down I know to be true
Do I even want to admit
That this song in my heart
Is not about me
But about you?
P.S.: I’ve observed the same principle in language learning (and wrote a book about the consequences of this mindset shift).
Which begs the question…
Where else would we do better if we observed a bit more, rather than trying to invent from scratch?
When you’re focused on outsmarting the competition
The true competitor becomes your ego.
