#535 No one knows what they’re doing
No one really knows what they’re doing, no matter how loud they shout.
So don’t have to know what you’re doing yet before you start out.
Isn’t that a reassuring thought?
No one really knows what they’re doing, no matter how loud they shout.
So don’t have to know what you’re doing yet before you start out.
Isn’t that a reassuring thought?
Question: Do you know how old I’ll be by the time I learn to play the piano?
Answer: The same age you will be if you don’t.
Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way
Some skills take years of practice before I’m any good at them. But I’m living those years anyway. And while society and systemic pressure might push me down a certain path, I still have a say in how I spend every day.
Whether I publish a blog post today or not, I’ll go to bed tonight and the sun will still come up tomorrow.
Whether I write every day in the coming 10 years or not, in 10 years I’ll still turn 40.
The only difference: will I feel that my actions were aligned with who I want to be? Or will I feel regret instead?
Some aspirations are worth the time you’re living anyway.
You only need to stick to one new habit to prove to yourself that you can change.
One habit. One small activity. One Teeny Tiny Trust Builder where you don’t give up, but stay on track.
Why would you make this hard on yourself?
Write one sentence a day.
Learn one word a day.
Meditate for 1 minute.
Make it ridiculously small if you want.
But stick with it.
Stick with it on day one. And the next day. And the next. And also on the day when the universe seems to conspire against you.
Stick with it, because that one silly little activity can be the start of a changed life.
Get ill. Get better.
Just don’t stand still.
Break. Then grow.
Do whatever it takes to stay in flow.
I write every day until I’m a writer.
I paint every day until I’m a painter.
I practice the guitar every day until I’m a guitar player.
I love my family every day until I become a family person.
I prove to myself that I can take one daily action aligned with who I want to be.
And before I know it, the practice becomes the identity.
I can believe I must understand the theory before I engage in practice, or I can believe that theory makes more sense when it explains my practice.
Theory and practice are partners, and more often than not, it should be practice that leads the dance.
Maybe you feel like you’re going off-track once in a while.
Maybe going off-track is how you build your own track.
Maybe your own track doesn’t always have to go straight.
Maybe you’re the only one using your track.
And maybe that’s fine.