#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.
I like to journal in the morning.
But if I’d journal in the evening, this is what I’d ask myself:
“Were my actions today actions of the person I choose to be? Or were they actions of a person driven by old patterns, habits and limiting beliefs?”
“Did my actions bring me closer to where I choose to go? Or did they keep me stuck in a place I really don’t want to be anymore?”
“Did my actions make me feel good about myself? Or did they make me resent myself?”
What can I do differently tomorrow?
Stream Of Consciousness writing isn’t about what you write. It’s about the very fact that you’re writing.
Nobody cares about the words on the pages. Nobody will read them anyway. Neither should you.
This is not a novel. This is not a love song. This is not a poem. This is but an externalization of your mind’s chatter. Ugly, pretty, insightful, bland. It doesn’t matter.
There’s no great work. Nor is there any bad work. No high standards, no judgment. Nothing but what flows out of your mind.
So if none of it matters… why bother to write Stream of Consciousness?
Because it forces you to slow down.
Because it forces you to pay attention to what’s on your mind.
Because it forces you to listen to the way you talk to yourself.
Because it helps you get all the overwhelming thoughts and worries out of your system.
Because it helps you gain clarity.
And because sometimes, insights emerge. Not necessarily in the words on the page. But due to the fact that you’re writing the words on the page.
Stream Of Consciousness journaling is writing. Venting. Self-therapy. Problem-solving. Meditation. Goal-setting. Creative liberation. And anything else you want it to be.
Because you have all of that in you already – if only you’d re-learn to listen.
And listening to yourself, it turns out, is much easier when you put it all on the page.
Does a day end, or does a new one start?
Does the end of a book chapter signal termination, or does it serve as a gateway to an unexplored continuation?
Maybe we don’t need to arbitrarily mark endings and beginnings in lives that consist of an uninterrupted flow.
Maybe we’re just a tiny plot in a story spanning billions of years.
Maybe we don’t grasp the bigger story anyway.
Maybe it’s all the same.
On the days when I feel like everything I write is bad, I choose to be a writer.
On the days when I feel like the most inspired writer, I choose to be a writer.
On the days when I need to skip a day because life gets in the way, I choose to be a writer.
On the days when I don’t feel like a writer, I choose to be a writer.
And especially on the days when I don’t write, I choose to be a writer by trusting that soon enough, I’ll write again.
I choose to be a writer, not through pressuring myself into hardliner habits but through my daily commitment to the general direction I want my life to take.
Focus on making the majority of your actions and decisions align with who you want to be.
When you do that, you’ll always bounce back.
Writing isn’t hard. Writing every day is – until it isn’t anymore.
That’s when writing becomes hard.
Build the habit, then you get a shot at building the skill.
Today, you can do things differently from yesterday.
And if you do, then today, you start changing.
And when you change, everything changes.
It’s as simple as that.
If only it were easy to start doing things differently…