#511 What comes next came before
Unexplored territory to you is usually well-trodden path to someone else.
So observe. Learn.
Because what comes next also came before.
Unexplored territory to you is usually well-trodden path to someone else.
So observe. Learn.
Because what comes next also came before.
I’ve been publishing daily posts for 300+ days now.
The secret?
Writing less.
I don’t want to spend hours writing daily posts, so I keep them short.
I don’t want to drag myself to a 4-day writing session to create all posts for the coming week in advance (then not write for the rest of the week)
I don’t want to set writing goals that are painful to reach and make me feel burnt out.
I do want to write a little bit every day, so I prove to myself every single day that I’m a writer.
I do want to feel that writing that daily post is achievable and fun.
I do want to build momentum.
Keep it achievable. Keep it pleasurable. Keep it sustainable.
In other words: Tiny Trust Builders.
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.
Working on your business so hard you neglect your health – and end up in bed with a burnout.
Being so absorbed with selflessly helping others you forget to set boundaries – and end up drained and resentful.
Being so focused on the practice your neglect your friends and family – and you end up lonely.
The line between purposeful passion and compulsive addiction is thin.
This is where trust building comes in.
Building trust in your intentions – so you verify that your actions benefit you and your environment.
Building trust in your self-awareness – so you notice when you cross over in compulsive obsession space, and pull yourself back into purposeful passion territory.
Building trust in the people around you – so you listen to them when they see you’re slipping, and you let them help you get back on the right path.
Trust is a beacon of light, keeping you on track.
What will you do today to protect and fuel it?
Am I running to get in better shape or to get distracting thoughts out of my head?
Am I going out to enjoy being with friends or to forget my worries?
Am I writing to grow an audience or to process my own emotions?
What am I striving for?
Your answers may vary from day to day. There are no right or wrong answers anyway.
But that doesn’t mean it isn’t useful to understand why you behave the way you do.
Maybe it even makes you curious about why others behave the way they do, too.
Performance gap: the frustrating gap between the way you know something should be done in an ideal world and the way you currently do it.
I know I should write daily blog posts in advance so I have a buffer in case something comes up and I don’t get to write. Yet here I am, writing this daily insight hours before the publication date.
I know what the perfect downward-facing dog pose in yoga looks like. Yet when I perform it myself, I am far off from that ideal pose.
I know all the ingredients that make up a solid, convincing speech. Yet when I write one myself, I am only able to incorporate a few of those ingredients.
Learning, then, is closing the gap between your intellectual understanding of an ideal product, action, or skill, and your current rendition of it.
Don’t be so hard on yourself for your current performance.
You can’t expect to turn intellectual understanding into mastery and internalized knowledge right away.
You don’t have to master this today.
The other day, I talked about changing your focus to change how you feel about the events in your day.
But something strange happened when I first had that realization.
It didn’t feel like a relief.
Do I even want that responsibility? To choose how events affect me?
After all, that would take away my right to complain about how poorly life treats me.
I couldn’t ascribe any successes or achievements to “sheer luck” anymore.
And wouldn’t it be silly to say I don’t deserve happiness, luck, or anything good if I knew I could change my focus and be lucky this very moment?
What a burden.
I’m still deciding if I am strong enough to carry it.
But one thing’s for sure: the days I have the presence of mind to direct my focus are the days I feel best.
I wonder if it’d be like that for you, too.
Maybe you could try it out? Even if it’s to indulge me.
See how it feels.
And let me know how it goes. I’m curious about you.