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.
No one is bad at sticking to habits.
Because everyone’s day-to-day life is stitched together with recurring activities anyway, whether you consciously choose to do them or not.
Maybe you brush your teeth every day – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you wash your hands before every meal – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you shower every morning right after waking up – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you write every day – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you practice yoga three times a week – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you spend 10 minutes daily catching up with family, friends, acquaintances, or relatives you haven’t seen in a while – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Habits are habits.
And that has an interesting consequence:
If you can do that, you can also do this.
Question: Do you know how old I’ll be by the time I learn to play the piano?
Answer: The same age you will be if you don’t.
Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way
Some skills take years of practice before I’m any good at them. But I’m living those years anyway. And while society and systemic pressure might push me down a certain path, I still have a say in how I spend every day.
Whether I publish a blog post today or not, I’ll go to bed tonight and the sun will still come up tomorrow.
Whether I write every day in the coming 10 years or not, in 10 years I’ll still turn 40.
The only difference: will I feel that my actions were aligned with who I want to be? Or will I feel regret instead?
Some aspirations are worth the time you’re living anyway.
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.”
When you start a new project, excitement eclipses sacrifices.
But when things get serious, you must know what you’re in for.
Your dreams may be worth every sacrifice. But you better know why, before life has passed you by.
Changes too small to notice today become impossible to ignore when they stack up – as long as you take the time to look back.
Writing this post today doesn’t feel different than the one I wrote yesterday. But when I think about the first daily post I wrote two months ago… it’s a different game.
I wonder what it’ll feel like in 600 days.
Is there anything that changed for you in the past months, without you even noticing?
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.
