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.
I could consider myself a writer if I write 20,000 words a day – and I would be right.
Or I could consider myself a writer if I write one sentence a day – and I would be right.
I could consider myself a writer if I’ve written a book – and I would be right.
Or I could consider myself a writer the moment I’ve decided I’m going to be a writer – and I would be right.
I could consider myself a writer if I’ve built up enough self-trust and taken enough daily actions that prove that I genuinely care about being a writer – and I would be right.
Whether you’re aware of them or not, you’re using subjective measuring sticks for everything, usually determined by upbringing, culture, and societal pressure.
But nothing stops you from consciously choosing your measuring sticks (depending on your goals, you could make them easier or more challenging) and setting yourself up for more fulfillment and success.
Here are some questions that can help:
When you say you want to be {successful, happy, fulfilled, fit, wealthy}…
How do you know you’re reaching your goal?
Is it an achievement?
A material possession?
A feeling?
An action you take?
A decision you make?
Choose wisely.
Before it can be about good writing, it must be about consistent writing.
Before it can be about running PRs, it must be about running consistently.
Before it can be about , it must be about being in that yoga pose in the first place.
Before it can be about fulfilment, it must be about doing something that fulfills you in the first place.
Before it can be about the content, it must be about the consistency.
Which conclusions did I draw from past experiences?
Have I overreacted to petty events, and ignored beautiful moments?
Have I deleted memories? Maybe invented some?
Have I built stories based on generalizations?
Most importantly: how does the past I still feel affect my actions today?
And if I know a lot of it was my own interpretation… could I change my past, or at least what it means to me?
Would that set me free?
I was undoubtedly in a pensive mood when writing this.
I guess, given the daily letters I send you, you might conclude I’m in a pensive mood every day.
And you wouldn’t be wrong.
But pensive moods can be useful – when they’re coupled with conclusions and insights. Maybe even with Tiny Trust Builders.
And if any of these questions help you re-interpret your past and set you free, too, I’ll be a happy man.
A wistful win-win.
There is no way to predict the future.
But thinking about where you would like to be in the future can help you make better decisions today.
Want to be a writer in the future? Better write today.
Want to run a marathon? Better run today (or eat better, or rest, or stretch…)
Remind yourself of the future, not for the sake of precise predictions, but for the sake of the present.
Dissolve your worries
Face your fears
Evolve your expectations
What you desire is near
When you lean in to the fear
The naysaying voices you hear
You’ll realize solutions are near
Within grasp
Maybe already here
And so is everything else you hold dear.
