I don’t know why I decide to write every day.
But I know writing feels right.
I know it feels like what the person I want to be would do.
Sometimes, that explanation is not enough.
But usually that’s all the “why” I need to write again.
All bad things happen all at once, and you keep going.
Slow and steady, one day at a time.
Nothing happens, and you keep going.
Slow and steady, one day at a time.
All good things happen all at once, and you keep going.
Slow and steady, one day at a time.
All the good things can’t happen if you don’t keep going when the bad things happen, and if you don’t keep going when nothing happens.
Slow and steady.
One day at a time.
First I envision a future me. Who do I want to be?
Then every single day, every single moment, I choose to take actions that turn me into that person I want to be.
If I don’t consciously choose my actions in the present moment that contribute to my vision, and I’m led by old unconscious patterns, beliefs, and habits instead, my visions will remain imaginary.
And if I never take the time to envision who I want to be, how do I know which actions to choose?
First envision what you want. Then choose to make it happen.
The easiest path is to miss all days – you never get going in the first place so you don’t know what you’re missing.
The second easiest is to never miss a day – you’ll get where you want to go with little detours, even if you pay the cost of discipline.
The hardest (and most common) path is to miss a couple of days here and there – now you run the risk of getting lost.
We all miss a day sometimes – so we all get a little lost once in a while.
So what do we do?
We remind ourselves why we got started.
We remind ourselves where we’re going.
We remind ourselves that we’ve been lost before – and that we can always get back on track.
Without sadness, how do I know I’m happy?
Without happiness, how do I know I’m sad?
Without anger, how do I know I’m grateful?
Without gratitude, how do I know I’m angry?
Without pain, how do I know what pleasure feels like?
Without pleasure, how do I know I’m in pain?
Without bad moments, how can I appreciate the good ones?
Without good moments, what gets me through the bad ones?
Contrast.
Within a split second, I’ve categorized an object as an apple. Now I don’t pay attention to the dimensions, color, smell, and texture anymore.
Within a split second, I’ve categorized an emotion as anger, fear, frustration, love. So I don’t pay attention to the physiological changes in my body anymore.
I’m always categorizing – but I didn’t consciously create the categories.
But what if I’m categorizing inaccurately?
Can I interrupt instant categorization, governed by language, habits, patterns, past experience?
Can I re-open my senses and see, smell, touch, hear, feel again?
Can I start sensing nuances between the objects I behold?
Can I discern nuances between the feelings I feel?
Mindfulness, journaling, meditation, and learning languages can help with more conscious categorization.
Because what if the anger I feel is nothing but fear?
What if the fear I feel is nothing but frustration?
What if the frustration I feel is nothing but unrequited love?
And what if the love I feel is nothing but infatuation?
It’s about the way you say, “I’m tired, and I’m here anyway.”
It’s about the way you say, “I’m exhausted, I’m skipping this one, and that’s okay, because I’ll be back on track the next day.”
It’s about the way you say, “Come what may, I’m in this, and from my chosen path, I won’t be led astray.”
It’s about intentionality and elastic discipline.
It’s about direction.
Most of all, it’s about feeling good, not guilty.
