AI may write like us – but why do we write in the first place?
AI may translate what we say – but why do we say what we say in the first place?
AI may do what we do – but why do we do what we do in the first place?
Does AI merely regurgitate and build upon what we’ve already said and done?
Do we merely regurgitate and build upon what others have already said and done?
What drives our words and actions?
Today marks day 400 of the Daily Insight newsletter – which calls for a longer post and a question for you.
Let’s start with three lessons I learned from publishing daily.
I wasn’t inspired every day in the past 400 days – but many days I was.
And I wouldn’t have had the inspiring days without the uninspired days.
Maybe writing when you’re not inspired is the whole point.
Because showing up for the bad moments makes it possible to be there for the good moments, too.
In the past, I just couldn’t get myself to write, not even if I really wanted to.
Now, I just write.
Doing something new always goes against your current beliefs and always comes with resistance – otherwise, you would already be doing it.
But seeing how tiny daily actions can normalize a behavior that in the past seemed unattainable was incredibly empowering.
You don’t have to be ready to get started. You get started to become ready.
For the longest time, I felt like I always gave up on things that were important to me. I just couldn’t persevere.
So, I chose to start writing daily. But I could’ve also decided to run every day. Or knit.
In the end, the activity itself doesn’t matter. You can choose any desire you feel resistance towards…
And start using it as a symbol of your defiance against your limiting beliefs.
In its essence, such “Tiny Trust Builder” actions, as I came to call them, are symbolic.
Pick one. Attach meaning to it. Use it to prove to yourself that your aspirations are not just pipe dreams. And see how your life changes.
Maybe it didn’t have to take 400 days to prove to myself that I could write every day – or maybe it did.
Either way, I did it. And now the question arises: what’s next?
To answer that question, I need your help.
Why are you subscribed to this newsletter? What do you get out of it?
Could I do anything to make the newsletter more interesting to you?
Let me know by replying to this email so we can shape the next 400 newsletters together.
Thanks for being along for the journey!
A new phone out of necessity – because the old one broke.
A new phone out of longing for the rush of something new.
A new business idea because changing circumstances have rendered the old business model unviable.
A new business idea because the previous one is progressing slower than I expected, and I’m getting bored.
There are many reasons to embrace novelty. And there are just as many reasons to fight it.
How likely is the scenario you’re worrying about?
And how impactful or life-threatening is that scenario?
Now, how much mental bandwidth is worrying about it taking up?
Are your worries proportionate to the actual danger?
Should you be worrying at all?
If not, could you stop right away?
Of course, you and I both know that’s not always how it works, my friend.
Because even if we know rationally that we shouldn’t worry, the worrier mind tends to scoff at answering rational questions.
Yet today, I had an insight: maybe those questions aren’t meant to dismiss the worrier mind at all but empower the sane mind, temporarily suppressed and overpowered?
Maybe they can provide enough encouragement to make the sane mind stand up for itself again and say, “Enough is enough.”
Maybe that way, the sane mind will put the worrier mind back in its place, reminding it of the only task where it truly shines: protect us from life-threatening risks.
Or maybe not. I don’t know, my friend. You’ve seen me: I’m just another human with good days and bad—productive days and lazy. Days of irrational fears and worry, and days of relaxing, dreaming, and visioning.
But this I do know: worrying too much has never improved my mood, and I doubt it has ever improved yours.
So if you’ve had an overactive worrier mind lately, trying won’t hurt.
Let me know how it goes.
We naturally move towards pleasure and away from pain – with one exception: painful comfort.
If you’re used to believing that you’re bad at languages, there’s painful comfort in struggling with languages.
If you’re used to negative self-talk, there’s painful comfort in negative self-talk.
If you’re used to working 12-hour days, there’s painful comfort in working 12-hour days.
If you’re used to constant conflict, there’s painful comfort in constant conflict.
If you’re used to neglect, there’s painful comfort in neglect.
Painful comfort is keeping you comfortable AND hurting you.
Years of conditioning have given it an irresistible pull – until you decide to take a leap of faith and start believing that you, too, can change.
Where are you perpetuating painful comfort in life?
Learning a skill isn’t so much about getting better – that’s just a side effect.
It’s about discovering new ways of doing the same thing – just because you can, and just because you’re curious.
Doing the same thing, this time precisely – then doing it again, not precisely at all.
Doing the same thing, this time deliberately, carefully thinking about every step – then doing it again, not thinking about any steps at all.
When you stay curious, you learn to discover nuances you couldn’t perceive before.
When you stay curious, you learn to be deliberate until you can be intuitive.
When you stay curious, you learn to become less blind to what’s already here.
And when you stay curious, you realize there’s not much more to a fulfilling life than sculpting away, day by day – and anything can be a fulfilling skill.
Living a balanced life doesn’t mean living average experiences.
It’s more like a barbell, or a seesaw, where you go all in on complementary actions.
Work hard, rest hard.
Write with total focus, then fully let go when you’ve hit your word target.
Work out with full intensity, then let your body fully recover.
So when you’re out of balance, the solution is not to come closer to the middle.
Instead, you start doing less of what you’re already doing or add more of the polar opposite of what you’re already doing.
Figure out your polar opposite pairs, and give them both the attention they deserve. That’s how you dance the barbell balance of life.
