#427 You don’t know what’s possible for you.
You don’t know what you can do.
You don’t know what’s possible for you.
But every day, you get to find out.
Isn’t that beautiful
You don’t know what you can do.
You don’t know what’s possible for you.
But every day, you get to find out.
Isn’t that beautiful
An aspiring writer who doesn’t believe writing is a valuable skill in our current society and focuses on building a traditional career instead.
An aspiring runner who doesn’t believe running is a good use of their time in our current society and goes out for drinks every night.
An aspiring classical musician who doesn’t believe society will ever appreciate their art – and goes into pop music instead.
If you want to turn aspirations into achievements, you’ll have to decide for yourself what’s valuable, even if it goes against what society and tradition prescribe.
So to make writing a valuable skill, write.
To make running a good use of your time, run.
To make the world appreciate your classical music, practice classical music.
To make anything worthwhile, show that it’s worth your while.
Because going against the mainstream is not just necessary to achieve your aspirations – it’s what makes your aspirations valuable in the first place.
If I don’t write the post I intended to write, I actively avoid the desired result of my writing.
If I don’t do the workout I intended to do, I actively avoid the desired result of my workout (being in better shape, running a new PR,…)
If I don’t have the difficult conversation I intended to have, I actively avoid the desired result of that conversation.
Inaction is not the lack of action.
Inaction is taking active action to avoid working towards the result you desire.
The real question, then, is:
Why do I actively avoid working toward a desired result?
Am I worried that even if I write daily, I’ll never become a skilled writer?
Am I worried I won’t enjoy writing anymore if I ever get recognition?
Am I worried that writing every day will turn me into a skilled writer, but being a professional writer won’t be fulfilling?
P.S. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I only have a limited repertoire of examples in this newsletter, my friend
I trust you to apply the insight to your situation.
And maybe, when you’re pondering the question above, you’ll come to the same conclusion as me:
That more often than not, I’m more interested in the comfort of “wanting” something I don’t have than in “taking action to get something.”
Writing isn’t hard. Writing every day is – until it isn’t anymore.
That’s when writing becomes hard.
Build the habit, then you get a shot at building the skill.
Everything is impossible until suddenly it’s possible.
And then you’ll find the next thing that’s impossible.
The cycle of piercing through the veil is impossibility is eternal.
Frustrating when you forget.
Comforting when you remember.
I may say I am bored – but what do I feel?
I may say I am angry – but what do I feel?
I may say I am in love – but what do I feel?
What does my body say?
Can I examine my feelings a different way?
Can I escape the tragedy of the spoken word?
Can I resist unconscious categorization and re-learn to listen to what’s behind the language?
What do we do when AI can cobble together in seconds essays that take us hours (or days) to write – not even counting years of practice?
Maybe it just raises the bar for us – requiring is to make new work that continues to stand out from AI-generated content.
As things stand, that’s still possible.
But what happens when the bar is set so high that our human brains can’t jump over it anymore, even with a lifetime of practice?