What would you like to become good at?
Why do you want to become good at this? Passion? Purpose? Impressing others?
Are you willing to spend a lot of time to become good at this?
Are you willing to give up other things to become good at this?
Are you making life harder for yourself by trying to become good at this?
Is that worth it?
…
The question that rules them all:
How easy was it to answer the questions above?
Better enjoy today’s show.
After all, who knows where life will go?
You can be a writer with spelling mistakes.
A language learning expert who is afraid of speaking a foreign language.
A psychologist who doesn’t always feel good.
A teacher who doesn’t have all the answers.
You can be anything.
And you’ll always be human.
You feel bad because you don’t write.
And when you write, you feel bad because you’re scared of the inevitable day you stop writing.
That’s how you create a self-improvement prison.
And that prison has only one way out.
Intend to do what’s good for you.
Then realize that even if you don’t live up to that standard all the time, you’re still worthy of self-love and self-trust.
Focus on intention, not outcome.
Focus on cultivating elastic discipline rather than on becoming a habit hardliner.
Focus on the general direction of your life, not a day-by-day judgment of your every action.
Maintain a majority vote for who you want to be.
Realize you’re not going to be perfect today – and being perfect isn’t the goal anyway.
Ernest Hemingway allegedly stopped his writing sessions in the middle of a sentence so he knew how to start his next session. He stopped writing, even if he could do more.
Julia Cameron teaches to write precisely three pages of stream-of-consciousness journaling a day. Stop journaling, even if you could do more.
I’ve gotten better results studying foreign languages 20 minutes a day for several months than rushing into a new language and studying it for 3 hours a day, then crashing and burning. I stop myself from learning, even if I could do more.
Because burnout and overindulgence stifle progress, and in the long run, moderation leads to more.
Overgeneralization: I failed to stick to a new habit once, so I’ll always give up.
Undergeneralization: Even though I’ve been writing consistently for months, I’m still expecting the day I’ll finally give up again.
Both are manifestations of self-sabotage and perpetuations of a negative self-image.
The only way out: don’t focus on habits, focus on Tiny Trust Builders.
Let your actions be a vote for who you want to be.
Let your actions overrule your thoughts.
Let your actions change your identity.
One day at a time.
I could consider myself a writer if I write 20,000 words a day – and I would be right.
Or I could consider myself a writer if I write one sentence a day – and I would be right.
I could consider myself a writer if I’ve written a book – and I would be right.
Or I could consider myself a writer the moment I’ve decided I’m going to be a writer – and I would be right.
I could consider myself a writer if I’ve built up enough self-trust and taken enough daily actions that prove that I genuinely care about being a writer – and I would be right.
Whether you’re aware of them or not, you’re using subjective measuring sticks for everything, usually determined by upbringing, culture, and societal pressure.
But nothing stops you from consciously choosing your measuring sticks (depending on your goals, you could make them easier or more challenging) and setting yourself up for more fulfillment and success.
Here are some questions that can help:
When you say you want to be {successful, happy, fulfilled, fit, wealthy}…
How do you know you’re reaching your goal?
Is it an achievement?
A material possession?
A feeling?
An action you take?
A decision you make?
Choose wisely.
