#350 Don’t wait for the storm to pass
Don’t wait for the storm to pass.
Write in the rain.
Don’t wait for the storm to pass.
Write in the rain.
The future I want to see affects the present I create.
And so does the future I don’t want to see.
Do I let fear of what could go wrong reign my day?
Or excitement about what could be?
Whatever I choose, I may well end up proving myself right.
Could you be at peace when you make massive progress?
Could you be at peace when feel you’re going backwards?
Could you be at peace when nothing seems to be moving at all?
Could you be at peace no matter what, because you know what must happen must happen?
The path toward self-awareness isn’t always pleasant.
Take yesterday, when I realized that in many cases, I’m more interested in the comfort of “wanting” something I don’t have than in “taking action to get something.”
That unappealing realization triggered a cascade of even more unappealing questions.
Would I rather mess around with small blog posts instead of becoming a skilled writer crafting coherent arguments?
Would I rather learn about a million different strategies to grow a newsletter instead of actually spreading the word and getting more people to read my newsletter?
Would I rather learn how to learn a language than actually learn a new language?
Is the frustration of unrealized potential also a huge source of comfort in my life?
I’m not sure if I should be happy with that realization.
Maybe realizations aren’t even supposed to make me happy.
But even if they were, it doesn’t matter.
Because look: here I am, writing another insight about it.
Another Tiny Trust Builder, proving that every day, I am one step closer to renouncing my citizenship of the United States of “If I wanted, I could.”
Another reminder to myself and you, my friend, one I’ll repeat until the bitter end: actions overrule thoughts.
ChatGPT can write in 10 seconds what would take you hours.
We’re entering an era where what makes us valuable is not economic output anymore.
We can try to compete.
Or we can rethink what still makes our lives valuable when we’re economically obsolete.
I write for the sake of writing.
I play chess for the sake of playing chess.
I learn for the sake of learning.
I sing for the sake of singing.
I love my family for the sake of loving my
I live for the sake of living.
When we lose our economic value, value lies in life itself again.
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.
Your anger is real. But you are not your anger.
Your worries are real. But that doesn’t mean it’s rooted in reality.
You aren’t scared. You feel scared.
You are not your emotions. Emotions are not your identity.