#499 Scared to a fault
It’s possible to be disciplined to a fault, destroying yourself in the process of doing great things.
But it’s more common to be scared to a fault, preventing you from doing great things in the first place.
It’s possible to be disciplined to a fault, destroying yourself in the process of doing great things.
But it’s more common to be scared to a fault, preventing you from doing great things in the first place.
If you wouldn’t see overwhelming results in your first 30 days of writing, working out, dieting, or learning an instrument, would you still show up?
Are you okay with small, almost invisible gains because the process of learning, creating, practicing is fulfilling enough in itself?
And if not, could you be okay with that, if you knew it was the key to learning or creating anything you ever wanted?
No one is bad at sticking to habits.
Because everyone’s day-to-day life is stitched together with recurring activities anyway, whether you consciously choose to do them or not.
Maybe you brush your teeth every day – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you wash your hands before every meal – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you shower every morning right after waking up – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you write every day – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you practice yoga three times a week – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you spend 10 minutes daily catching up with family, friends, acquaintances, or relatives you haven’t seen in a while – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Habits are habits.
And that has an interesting consequence:
If you can do that, you can also do this.
Are you practicing writing? Or giving up writing?
Are you practicing persevering? Or giving up?
Are you practicing doing what you know is good for you? Or ignoring what you know is good for you?
You’re always practicing something. And what you practice, you’ll become good at. And what you practice will persist.
Actions overrule thoughts, and sometimes the best creative act – and the one requiring the most discipline – is doing nothing.
Because when you slow down your pace, suddenly you realize: there’s space.
There’s space for the thoughts and feelings you were so afraid to face.
There’s space to redirect the energy you’ve misplaced.
There’s space to rediscover everything that escaped your gaze while you were engaged in an endless rat race.
There’s space for you to remember
that before you learned not to listen
and constant distraction erased every trace
of the insights you so desperately chase
there was a place of stillness
a warm embrace
where all the answers were right there, in your face
Only when you’ve slowed down your mind’s pace
you realize
you were never out of place
you were navigating a self-inflicted maze
with only one way out:
Make space.
First, you practice doing the process every day – because if you don’t do the process consistently, you’ll never move towards an outcome in the first place. Tiny Trust Builders always come first.
Then, you practice becoming good at the process – because the better you are at the process, the more likely you’ll reach an outcome.
But, unfortunately, even if you become excellent at the process, you still won’t be able to predict an exact outcome.
Outcomes are fickle.
Even progress is fickle.
But the process is predictable.
And who knows, maybe the process IS the outcome.
Why do you love writing, despite the fact that the act of writing is often a drag?
Why do you love running, despite the fact that the act of going for a run is often a chore?
Why do you love learning languages, despite the fact that the act of practicing is often riddled with frustration?
Why do you love it so much?
And wouldn’t it feel good to remind yourself of that love every day… so you make sure the love is there to stay?