You may decide to change path in the spur of a moment.
But to keep moving in that new direction, you’ll have to reaffirm your decision many times.
Day by day, taking actions that pave the new path.
Day by day, making decisions that keep you on the new path.
Day by day.
Step by step.
Until the new path isn’t the new path anymore, but just the path.
The path toward self-awareness isn’t always pleasant.
Take yesterday, when I realized that in many cases, I’m more interested in the comfort of “wanting” something I don’t have than in “taking action to get something.”
That unappealing realization triggered a cascade of even more unappealing questions.
Would I rather mess around with small blog posts instead of becoming a skilled writer crafting coherent arguments?
Would I rather learn about a million different strategies to grow a newsletter instead of actually spreading the word and getting more people to read my newsletter?
Would I rather learn how to learn a language than actually learn a new language?
Is the frustration of unrealized potential also a huge source of comfort in my life?
I’m not sure if I should be happy with that realization.
Maybe realizations aren’t even supposed to make me happy.
But even if they were, it doesn’t matter.
Because look: here I am, writing another insight about it.
Another Tiny Trust Builder, proving that every day, I am one step closer to renouncing my citizenship of the United States of “If I wanted, I could.”
Another reminder to myself and you, my friend, one I’ll repeat until the bitter end: actions overrule thoughts.
When you write 50 pages a day, only to be forced to recover for a month.
When you start running 5 miles a day without any preparation, only to end up injured.
When you start studying a language for 5 hours a day, only to give up after a week.
When you fly so close to the sun, your wings melt.
When intensity and excitement radiate too brightly, and the reality of life suddenly slaps you in the face.
That’s when you start appreciating the slow, steady flame of consistency that burns long and becomes brighter over time.
And that’s when you’ll see lasting change.
The limiting thought is not, “I can’t write.”’
It’s not, “I always give up.”
It’s not, “I don’t have time.”
The limiting thought is, “What if, despite all my own naysaying, I DO follow through? Can I take the fact that it’ll disrupt my entire narrative and self-image?”
There’s nothing wrong with chasing quick wins, as long as you define them well.
Because the first quick wins are usually internal and invisible.
Only when you’ve won some battles against the inner critic who wants you to give up do the external quick wins kick in.
And that’s how it’s supposed to be.
You may win, lose, fly high, fall low
You may have it easy or hard
But come what may
There is no way you won’t grow.
I can’t just say, “today, I’m going to be excellent at writing.”
Excellence is an outcome: a result of focused daily actions.
And one of the fastest ways to excellence is the pursuit of failure.
Not just making accidental mistakes but actively seeking them out.
Did I write nonsense today? Did I understand why I was writing nonsense? Have I learned something from writing that nonsense that will help me write something less nonsensical tomorrow?
The pursuit of failure is painful, especially for perfectionists like me.
But once ego, perfectionism, and the fear of failure make way for a commitment to the process, there’s much to learn from daily mistakes.
