Why do you love writing, despite the fact that the act of writing is often a drag?
Why do you love running, despite the fact that the act of going for a run is often a chore?
Why do you love learning languages, despite the fact that the act of practicing is often riddled with frustration?
Why do you love it so much?
And wouldn’t it feel good to remind yourself of that love every day… so you make sure the love is there to stay?
Some may say you’re disciplined to a fault.
But acting in alignment with who you want to be never gets old.
Unexplored territory to you is usually well-trodden path to someone else.
So observe. Learn.
Because what comes next also came before.
In the series of self-sabotaging behavior I’ve observed in myself and others: “pre-emptively disqualifying yourself”.
Before you even start, you’re depriving yourself already of any potential benefit of the exercise because you don’t know if you’ll get the EXACT benefit promised/desired by you.
“This exercise might have cured your neck pain, but I’ve always had neck problems, it won’t chage anything.”
“You might be able to write every day, but for me, in my situation, that would never be possible.”
This shows a lack of understanding of learning principles. Because with any exercise, program, diet, methodology, you’ll never get the exact same results as someone else, because you can never replicate the exact circumstances and actions of a person.
Instead, you do the exercise/program/diet/… within the framework of your own personal context/skills/past experience. Within that context, it will guide your learning process. But the outcome resulting from it is personal.
Variance is to be expected, and this is a good thing. Because this is how innovation happens: actions in different types of circumstances lead to slightly different results. Sometime that leads to disappointment, sometimes to real breakthroughs.
Getting different results, then, is not a reason to pre-emptively disqualify yourself, or to claim something doesn’t work. Because the true value doesn’t lie in getting the exact same results as someone else, but rather, to consciously set the general direction of our lives.
Every day, we have to make so many decisions that lead us down different future paths, so modeling someone and using their actions as a guiding principle will greatly increase the probability of you going in the direction you desire, and getting results in the same ballpark.
For example, I’ve been doing Dylan Werner’s yoga classes on Alo Moves (my go-to online yoga/fitness/meditation app) consistently for almost two years now. Even if I continue to follow his exact schedule for two more years, chances are, I still might not be able to do something like this:
After all, we have a different body structure, different gene disposition, different circumstances, and I’ll have to adapt his schedule to my personal capacity.
Still, if I follow his schedule I’ll definitely become much stronger and healthier than if I chose to model a couch potato, watch TV and eat fries and burgers all day. And that’s what it’s all about.
Modeling, in that point of view, are an effective way to accelerate your progress and lead your life in the direction you want, without you having to know exactly which results you’ll get.
In other words: when you let go of the need to predict exact future outcomes, you can stop pre-emptively disqualifying yourself, and start pro-actively setting the direction of your life.
When I write, I’m meditating.
When I meditate, I’m writing.
When I run, I’m meditating.
When I meditate, I’m running.
When I play the guitar, I’m meditating.
When I meditate, I’m playing the guitar.
When I meditate, I’m writing.
When I write, I’m running.
When I run, I’m playing the guitar.
And no matter what I do, I’m always living.
Life experience always carries over.
I’m not writing because I can’t write?
I’m not playing the guitar because I’m bad at music?
I’m not learning a language because I’m bad at learning languages?
That’s the world on its head.
The truth is: you can’t write because you’re not writing.
You can’t play the guitar because you’re not playing the guitar.
You can’t speak the language because you’re not learning the language.
If you would write every day, cognitive dissonance starts doing its work. Your actions will overrule your thoughts and beliefs.
And every day you write, you’re becoming a writer.
Every day you play the guitar, you’re becoming a guitar player.
Every day you learn a language, you’re becoming a language learner.
The only reason you can’t do it because you’re not doing it.
Don’t get it backwards.
Here’s a question Tim Ferris asks startup founders (and himself) when deciding to invest time and money into a new project:
“If, in one (or two, or three) years from now, this whole project has failed miserably… Which assumptions you hold today were proven wrong?”
Tim Ferris
Answering the question first requires defining failure and success.
For my project of publishing a daily insight on this blog success looks like this:
Write & publish.
Edit.
Write & publish.
Edit.
Then write & publish some more.
Good, bad, well-received or not, received or read by anyone at all, it doesn’t matter.
Because first of all, writing is a creative outlet for me.
Second: long as I write & publish consistently, I trust I will get better at writing and publishing.
Finally: I trust that from all that sculpting away, day by day, will come better and better insights.
A pretty low bar for success – which, counterintuitively, often leads to more progress long-term.
Now we have established that:
What are the assumptions that could be wrong if next year, it turns out I failed to write & publish every day?
Here are some I can think of:
Will these assumptions be proven wrong?
Only time will tell.
Until then… I write & publish… then write & publish some more.
