Not believing in something doesn’t make it impossible.
Rejecting something doesn’t make it impossible.
Not having experienced something doesn’t make it impossible.
You don’t know what’s possible.
You don’t know what’s possible for you.
And the sooner you accept that, the more will suddenly be possible.
Every day in which I write, I build my body of work.
As I build my body of work, I also build a hierarchy of quality.
Because every day, my writing will be slightly better or worse than the day before.
That means that the more I write, comparatively, the more good writing I’ll do.
It also means that the more I write, comparatively, the more bad writing I do.
Both are necessary.
Good writing, to feel progress.
Bad writing, to know what good writing looks and feels like in the first place.
It’s all part of the process.
Before you can master the art of writing, you must master the art of showing up.
Because this journey you’re embarking on isn’t just about writing.
It’s about creating a powerful, resilient identity that will support you for years to come.
There’s nothing wrong with striving for excellence when you’re passionate about something.
But being passionate doesn’t come with an obligation to be – or even try to become – good.
It’s fine to write for the sake of writing, not to write a bestseller novel.
Paint for the sake of painting, not to be the next Picasso.
Run for the sake of running, not to finish a marathon.
I don’t need to be good at this today.
And some things I just never need to be good at.
You always have a choice.
Admiring (flawed) early work is easy when we already know the late work is going to be great.
Everyone forgives Picasso or Da Vinci for a lousy early sketch. In fact, people pay good money to hang one in their living room.
Maybe the early work, showing that even the greats are mere mortals on a journey towards excellence, is the most valuable?
And yet, it’s much harder to be gentle on a beginning artist for shipping mediocre creative work – not in the least for the beginning artist themselves – when their path to excellence hasn’t unfolded yet.
After all, something that one day will be “my early work” is still “my current best work” today.
The road to excellence is invisible from the trenches.
But that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.
Which makes me wonder…
When I know that through persistence and daily practice, one day, I’ll look back on today’s creation, smiling, thinking: “Oh how far I’ve come… How much I’ve learned… And some of this was actually pretty good…”
Can I admire my creative work less for what it looks, feels, or sounds like, and more for who I’m becoming through making it?
Can I do the same for the creative projects of others?
With that mindset… How much easier and forgiving would the daily creative journey be?
You feel excitement. Happiness. Anger. Sadness.
But you are not your excitement or happiness.
Because if you allow yourself to cling to the emotions you desire, you’ll have not choice but to identify with undesirable ones, like anger and sadness, too.
Thus, you feel excitement – until it fades.
You feel happiness – until it fades.
You feel anger – until it fades.
You feel sadness – until it fades.
No matter which emotion rises, feel it until it fades. You’re going to be fine either way.
The meaning of your life is not in the goals you crave.
It’s not in the results you chase.
Nor is it in the habits you create.
The meaning is in what you do in this very moment.
And the next moment.
And the one after that.
The meaning is in your collection of actions. In your collection of decisions. In your collection of present moments. Wherever they take you.
