#428 I can. And so can you.
I write every day, because I can. And so can you.
I don’t run every day, even though I could. And so could you.
Whether our mind allows us to see it or not, we always can.
We always have the time.
I write every day, because I can. And so can you.
I don’t run every day, even though I could. And so could you.
Whether our mind allows us to see it or not, we always can.
We always have the time.
When writing, the most hurtful words enter your head when no words leave your pen.
A blank page is a mirror of our own insecurities, frightening, judgmental…
I found the only way to get through is meeting myself where I am.
Inspired, afraid, angry, frustrated, fearful of poor work, poor words, or no words at all…
This is where the journey starts.
The moment I accept that, I am free again.
This is why I love Stream-Of-Consciousness writing. Whatever state I am in, I transfer the stream of thoughts, the inner dialogue to the page, and see where the flow takes me.
Here’s what I’ve learned: it always takes me somewhere.
And that’s enough to get started.
Because a blank page is also a promise of all my creative potential, waiting to materialize.
And when the words finally emerge
everything flows
and my self-trust grows.
I don’t wake up every day in love with the prospect of writing a blog post.
But I do love that part of my identity is that I publish something every day.
By not publishing, I would lose that part of my identity and end up frustrated because I gave up something I enjoy. And that’s painful.
So I write.
The secret to sticking to your habits: make the pain of quitting bigger than the pain of getting over the resistance against doing what you know is good for you.
Because the pain of discipline is always easier to bear than the pain of regret.
Do you really want to write a book? Or do you actually want to dream about writing a book?
Do you really want to drop everything and move to a sea-side town? Or do you want to dream about dropping everything and move to a sea-side town?
Both are fine. Both can be fulfilling, because often, having a dream is enough.
But both are not the same.
Only you will know if it’s the dream that makes you happy, or the action you want to take.
All in on getting fluent in a foreign language?
That’s a 6-12 month game, at the minimum.
All in on learning an instrument?
Count on a multi-year (or multi-decade) game.
All-in on getting in shape?
That’s a life-long game.
This is not a poker game. You’re not trying to impress anyone. There are no opponents to deter. Not everything hinges on one big moment where you can win or lose it all.
You’re not only all in the moment you decide you’re all-in. You’re all in for the entire journey. That means: making your efforts, resources, and motivation last.
All in means preparing for the long game.
Choosing small daily habits over grand gestures.
Choosing consistency over completion.
Accepting that whatever you go all in on will inevitably change your identity.
Now you’re all in on life, and who you aspire to be.
Who you are and what you do consistently always coincide. After all, your repeated actions create your identity.
But who you want to be and what you consistently do don’t usually coincide. Otherwise, you would already have become who you want to be.
You want to be a writer, but you’re not consistently writing? Writing consistently will bridge the gap between your current and desired identity.
You want to be a guitar player, but you’re not consistently playing the guitar? Practicing daily will bridge the gap between your current and desired identity.
Could you make your actions coincide with your desired identity?
How painful is it not to do what you secretly know is good for you? What do you stand to lose?
How amazing does it feel to do what you secretly know is good for you? What do you stand to gain?