#324 Will you ever write that book?
Will you ever write that book?
Who knows. We’ll see.
So for now, just focus on who you want to be.
Do that every day, and wherever you end up, is where you’re supposed to be.
Will you ever write that book?
Who knows. We’ll see.
So for now, just focus on who you want to be.
Do that every day, and wherever you end up, is where you’re supposed to be.
Not believing in something doesn’t make it impossible.
Rejecting something doesn’t make it impossible.
Not having experienced something doesn’t make it impossible.
You don’t know what’s possible.
You don’t know what’s possible for you.
And the sooner you accept that, the more will suddenly be possible.
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.
When it comes to habits, the missing piece of the puzzle is often the very first one.
Even more often, it’s not even opening the box to see what’s inside.
Because looking at the picture on the box is safer, easier, and sometimes just the best option.
But it’s not fulfilling.
And if it’s not fulfilling, what’s it all about?
You don’t have to feel certain to start taking action.
You take action to start feeling certain.
You don’t need to be calm to do yoga.
You do yoga to become calm.
You don’t need to have a quiet mind to meditate.
You meditate to cultivate a quiet mind.
You don’t have to speak Spanish fluently to have a conversation in Spanish.
You have a conversation in Spanish to learn to speak Spanish fluently.
You don’t need to know how to love to start loving someone.
You start loving someone to learn how to love.
And while this chain of causality sounds logical, sometimes the logical things are the hardest to remember.
I can believe I must understand the theory before I engage in practice, or I can believe that theory makes more sense when it explains my practice.
Theory and practice are partners, and more often than not, it should be practice that leads the dance.
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.