# How to know this is the right thing for you
Nothing bad will happen if I don’t write today.
And somehow, that makes me even more likely to write.
When you feel that way about anything you do, you know: that’s the right thing for you.
Nothing bad will happen if I don’t write today.
And somehow, that makes me even more likely to write.
When you feel that way about anything you do, you know: that’s the right thing for you.
We cling the most, not to our prized possessions we worked hard to obtain, but to the painful patterns that both hurt us AND keep us comfortable.
Some questions to ask yourself today:
Who do I want to be?
Which actions will turn me into the person I want to be?
Which actions STOP me from turning into that person I want to be?
Which of my actions, habits, and tendencies am I frustrated about, but simultaneously perpetuating?
Which painful patterns am I scared to let go of because they have been instrumental in making me who I am today?
Question: Do you know how old I’ll be by the time I learn to play the piano?
Answer: The same age you will be if you don’t.
Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way
Some skills take years of practice before I’m any good at them. But I’m living those years anyway. And while society and systemic pressure might push me down a certain path, I still have a say in how I spend every day.
Whether I publish a blog post today or not, I’ll go to bed tonight and the sun will still come up tomorrow.
Whether I write every day in the coming 10 years or not, in 10 years I’ll still turn 40.
The only difference: will I feel that my actions were aligned with who I want to be? Or will I feel regret instead?
Some aspirations are worth the time you’re living anyway.
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.
Maybe, when you take away the flaws, the whole fabric disintegrates.
Maybe we’re perfectly flawed.
I can’t predict what will happen tomorrow – or even today.
But I do know that today, I resolve to write.
And tomorrow I resolve to write once again.
And that resolve has brought me to 439 consecutive days of writing.
439 days of writing, despite living in an unpredictable world.
439 days of realizing most obstacles are excuses.
439 days of proving that resolve can bring you pretty far.
Your story has drama. Suspense.
New seasons. Old friends.
But your story never stops.
It will be remembered.
Which means there’s no beginning. And no end.