Similar Posts

  • |

    #295 When dreaming is enough

    Do you really want to write a book? Or do you actually want to dream about writing a book?

    Do you really want to drop everything and move to a sea-side town? Or do you want to dream about dropping everything and move to a sea-side town?

    Both are fine. Both can be fulfilling, because often, having a dream is enough.

    But both are not the same.

    Only you will know if it’s the dream that makes you happy, or the action you want to take.

  • |

    #143 Tipping the scale

    A voice in my head says I can’t write every day?

    I’ll write 2 sentences every day, just to prove to that voice that I, in fact, CAN write every day.

    A voice in my head says I don’t have the perseverance to train for (and then finish) a marathon?

    I’ll do something small to prepare for the marathon every day, so at the end of each day, I can say to myself “The proof is there, today was another day of me persevering and preparing for a marathon.”

    You can’t brute-force your way out of an “I can’t do this” belief. You can only take small actions that start proving the contrary.

    Slowly but surely, you chip away at the credibility of the naysayer voice, until the scale starts tipping over, and an encouraging voice emerges.

    Tiny trust builders.

  • |

    #314 You don’t need to see progress every day

    In the moment, I don’t feel like a yoga pose comes easy to me – until I look back to how it felt 6 months ago.

    In the moment, I don’t really feel like particularly good writer – until I look back on how hard it was to write these daily insights a year ago.

    You don’t need to see progress every single day to know that you’re getting better.

    Because the things that truly matter often change so slowly that you don’t notice them… unless you take the time to reflect on them.

    Changes too small to notice today become impossible to ignore when they stack up.

  • | |

    #32 Before I learned not to listen

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would stand
    seemingly still
    but secretly swaying
    swallowed up by a willow tree
    and its play with the wind

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would hold my head against the rind
    reach
    reconnect with an old friend
    the way it has always felt best
    cheek pressed to chest

    Before I learned not to listen
    a breeze in the leaves
    rustling ruminating
    would sound like raindrops in my ears
    making my eyes answer
    with a torrent of tears

    Before I learned not to listen
    a rolling thunder
    thumping like a beating heart
    would rumble from my cheek to my ear
    replacing my fear
    with a memory I used to held dear
    we were never really apart

    Before I learned not to listen
    before the lust for language
    reduced what I could see
    and sense within
    I would allow the whispers of the wordless world
    speak to me like kin

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would accept
    that once upon a time
    I remembered your name
    and once upon a time we both knew
    we were one and all the same

    Lukas Van Vyve
  • #13 Write & Publish. Then write some more

    Here’s a question Tim Ferris asks startup founders (and himself) when deciding to invest time and money into a new project:

    “If, in one (or two, or three) years from now, this whole project has failed miserably… Which assumptions you hold today were proven wrong?”

    Tim Ferris

    Answering the question first requires defining failure and success.

    For my project of publishing a daily insight on this blog success looks like this:

    Write & publish.

    Edit.

    Write & publish.

    Edit.

    Then write & publish some more.

    Good, bad, well-received or not, received or read by anyone at all, it doesn’t matter.

    Because first of all, writing is a creative outlet for me.

    Second: long as I write & publish consistently, I trust I will get better at writing and publishing.

    Finally: I trust that from all that sculpting away, day by day, will come better and better insights.

    A pretty low bar for success – which, counterintuitively, often leads to more progress long-term.

    Now we have established that:

    What are the assumptions that could be wrong if next year, it turns out I failed to write & publish every day?

    Here are some I can think of:

    • Writing and publishing every day is going to be a long-term fulfilling activity for me
    • I am truly fine with writing and publishing without anyone ever reading it
    • I am fine spending considerable time on starting a new project that I might never monetize
    • Writing & publishing every day really leads to better writing skills and interesting insights (although even if this assumption is false, it wouldn’t necessarily stop me from writing.)

    Will these assumptions be proven wrong?

    Only time will tell.

    Until then… I write & publish… then write & publish some more.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *