#398 Break free from who you don’t want to be
Running when you actually don’t want to go outside.
Writing when you don’t feel like writing at all.
Standing up for who you want to be.
That’s how you finally break free.
Running when you actually don’t want to go outside.
Writing when you don’t feel like writing at all.
Standing up for who you want to be.
That’s how you finally break free.
To become consistent, you have to go beyond wanting. You have to need it.
It’s not about figuring out where you’d like to end up – it’s about deciding where you must go.
It’s about creating a driving force within yourself.
A commitment so strong that you can’t ignore it anymore.
You don’t have to feel like a consistent writer to write every day.
You have to write every day to start feeling like a consistent writer.
You can only overcome your limiting beliefs by repeatedly proving to yourself that they’re not true.
In the pursuit of our ambitions, we often create intricate plans, detailed routines, and exhaustive checklists.
But when these complexities start to feel more like obstacles than aids, it might be time to strip things back.
Where are you overcomplicating? Is it in the planning, the execution, or perhaps the goal itself?
Seeking the simplest way is not always the easiest. But more often than not, it’s the most effective.
You write every day so you’re ready on the day you are forced to write.
You run every day so you’re ready on the day you are forced to run.
You show up when you have a choice, so you’re ready when you don’t have a choice anymore.
Because that’s when your character shows.
In his book The Art of Learning (and his podcast episodes with Tim Ferris), Josh Waitzkin, former chess player and martial artist, introduces the concept of “hidden reps” when learning something new:
I think that where the really potent, low-hanging fruit hanging in plain sight lie are in the thematic, are in breaking down the learning process into the core principles or themes you want to work on and doing reps of those. Those are just invisible to people in plain sight.
Josh Waitzkin on the Tim Ferris Podcast: https://tim.blog/2020/03/14/josh-waitzkin-transcript-412/
In other words, find “neglected skills“: situations you don’t often find yourself in and where you haven’t developed a lot of trust and confidence in your abilities yet.
Then isolate and practice them until you develop confidence and trust for that particular neglected skill.
For example, when working on his chess game, instead of practicing the “openings” like everybody else, Josh would isolate the “end games”(the final part of a chess match) and practice only these.
Most people wouldn’t think of doing that; they would always start at the opening (that’s where a chess match starts, after all) and practice the end game only as an afterthought, deep into their practice session when they had already spent all their energy on the opening.
By cutting out the opening entirely during practice sessions, Josh got a lot more “hidden reps” with the end game than his competitors, which led to a big competitive advantage.
This might seem obvious, but in my experience, it’s really quite counterintuitive not to start at the beginning when practicing a skill.
For example, when learning a new guitar piece, it feels strange not to start at the beginning but to pick out a difficult part and practice that over and over again. It’s not impossible, and many teachers will tell you to isolate difficult parts, but my (and many other students’) first instinct would always be to start at the top, over and over again.
Which begs the question:
Where else are we “starting from the top” over and over again, instead of finding and isolating the neglected skills?
Some examples of how I’m trying to integrate this principle into my life:
Neglected skills are everywhere. No matter what you’re trying to learn or achieve, creating the circumstances where you can identify and isolate them, then put in the hidden reps, will pay big dividends.
When I’m inspired, I write.
When I’m over the moon, I write.
When I’m frustrated, I write.
When I’m sad, I write.
When I’m angry, I write.
When I’m so overwhelmed I don’t want to do anything at all, I write.
Because when the tides of life get rough, a consistent practice is your life raft.
Writing, running, yoga, music, walking, gardening, knitting, dancing, singing, surfing…
You not only build trust in such habits and practices to achieve lofty goals but also – even more so – to fall back on when the going gets tough, and you need a beacon of stability to keep you afloat.