You’ve spent your lifetime bumping into the limits of what you deem possible.
And you’ve also spent your lifetime overcoming the seemingly impossible.
Sit. Crawl. Walk. Speak. Read. Find love. Get over loss and heartbreak. Travel. Invent. Create. Learn. Write.
Overcoming the seemingly impossible is what makes you you.
Once you accept that, the question shifts from, “What’s possible for me?” to, “What are you overcoming next?”
AI may write like us – but why do we write in the first place?
AI may translate what we say – but why do we say what we say in the first place?
AI may do what we do – but why do we do what we do in the first place?
Does AI merely regurgitate and build upon what we’ve already said and done?
Do we merely regurgitate and build upon what others have already said and done?
What drives our words and actions?
Could there be an easier path to do what you want to do?
Have you ever considered taking that path?
If not, could you consider it today?
If yes, are the reasons why you don’t take that path still valid?
Could it all be much simpler than you’re making it?
Before you can master the art of writing, you must master the art of showing up.
Because this journey you’re embarking on isn’t just about writing.
It’s about creating a powerful, resilient identity that will support you for years to come.
There’s nothing wrong with striving for excellence when you’re passionate about something.
But being passionate doesn’t come with an obligation to be – or even try to become – good.
It’s fine to write for the sake of writing, not to write a bestseller novel.
Paint for the sake of painting, not to be the next Picasso.
Run for the sake of running, not to finish a marathon.
I don’t need to be good at this today.
And some things I just never need to be good at.
You always have a choice.
I’ve tirelessly written at least 300 journal entries on the same topic in the belief that in the 301st, I’ll strike gold and find the exact words I’m looking for.
And it took me a while to accept that that’s an illusion.
Maybe every attempt is really just the same struggle to find the right words for ideas, thoughts, insights that were never meant to be captured into words in the first place?
And yet I bend, I twist, I turn, I squirm,
I write, re-write
and never am I satisfied.I get closer, or so I think
And then the next day, I jump back in
and instantly sink.I need answers…
Even though deep down I know,
the only certainty is that I’ll never get them.Yet, I have to try.
Because while every day of writing is a struggle, the true value lies in the daily struggle of writing.
Although it might look like I’m not making progress, writing and creativity is just not a linear process.
In reality, as long as a I write every day, I’m focusing my mind on what I’m trying to say. I’m sculpting away, and someway, somehow the essence will emerge from my 300 journal entries and reveal itself.
How? I don’t know.
When? I don’t know.
Probably not while I’m writing (read why here)… even though the writing is what makes it possible.
Anyway.
Now I know day 1, 11, 50, 299, 300, 301, 3001 are all equally important…
I’m finally ready to accept the struggle
and write in peace.
Nobody chooses to get addicted to social media.
We chose to get something of value: stay connected with friends. Stay up-to-date. Discover interesting voices.
Then we get addicted through features that bring little value: likes, notification signs, flashy videos hijacking our brains. That’s where the addiction creeps up to you.
If the interests of social media apps (make you spend as much time as possible on the platform) start deviating so much from the original reason we started using them…
Is massive addiction worth the minimal value?
