#219 Can you see it?
I guess all I really want to say today is:
There’s something you’re doing great at.
There always is.
Can you see it?
I guess all I really want to say today is:
There’s something you’re doing great at.
There always is.
Can you see it?
“Life made me who I am, and I can’t do anything about it.”
“While the past has shaped me, the way I choose to live my life today, tomorrow, and every day after, will determine who I am.”
You’re living anyway. Your actions are votes for an identity anyway. So you might as well do it intentionally.
Habits are hard to build. But there’s one that’s easy to get used to: starting a new project, then giving up.
Sometimes it’s better not to start at all, so you avoid reinforcing a quitter’s identity: I’ve given up so many times in the past, I’ll probaby give up again.
So how do you know which projects are worth starting?
Ask yourself the following questions:
If the answer to both questions is yes, you’re onto something.
If not, you’re setting yourself up for frustration.
Nobody says you should take time every day to disconnect from the world and listen to your stream of consciousness.
But let’s say you would.
What do you hear?
Desires? Fear?
A blurry memory, now suddenly clear?
A cry for help to which you’ve turned a deaf ear?
That fierce inner voice just wants you to be, listen, persevere,
and tell it
You’re safe. I hear you. I’m here.
When you make space to listen to yourself and let solitude soothe you, fear melts away and you might just find something that makes you want to put your heart on the line.
If doing your Tiny Trust Builder feels impossible today, it’s not tiny enough.
Write one paragraph, not one blog post.
Write one sentence, not one paragraph.
Write one word, not one sentence.
Write one letter, not one word.
Write whatever feels achievable to you, until you arrive at something you can do every day.
Think smaller, until you notice the insurmountable suddenly feels achievable.
When everyone starts using AI chatbots to write, but the insights inside your body and mind scream to be poured on the page – writing is not a choice.
When everyone dreads yet another practice session, but you know running the same route for the millionth time is all it takes to make you feel alive – running is not a choice.
When you’ve tripped over the same bar a thousand times, but you know the release of getting it right will energize you for days to come – playing the guitar is not a choice.
When your big vision has been rejected over and over again, but you know you will not rest until you’ve brought your life-changing ideas to the world – being an entrepreneur is not a choice.
When what drains others is your lifeblood, deep inside, you know life leaves you no other choice.
Because life is all about passion.
Passion is about a lifetime of practice.
A lifetime of practice becomes your identity.
And your identity is what makes you put your heart on the line.
Playing the guitar hasn’t taught me to move my hands and fingers across strings. It has taught me to persevere whenever I’m failing over and over again until suddenly, it all clicks and the words, music, or movements flow.
Yoga hasn’t taught me to put my body in awkward poses. It has taught me to be aware of – and release – the tension in my body whenever I sit, walk, stand, and run.
Taking cold showers hasn’t taught me to withstand cold water. It has taught me to know to relax whenever my body tenses up in stress and my heart starts racing.
Learning a foreign language hasn’t taught me to say the same things with different words. It has taught me that there are different ways of perceiving the wordless world around me, and expressing what I feel inside.
When we isolate insights, most of the learning is lost on us.
Learn thematically. Ask yourself, “Where else does this apply?”