You don’t have to feel ready to be a successful writer to pick up a pen or open a document and write today.
In fact, you’ll probably never feel ready to be a successful writer unless you write today.
This means, strangely enough, that despite how you feel in this very moment, you are entirely ready.
Ready to take the first step.
When the thought of writing pops up, don’t wait for your mind to come up with excuses. Write.
When you want to go for a run, run.
When you think of someone, let them know.
You may not want to act on all your first impulses.
But deep down, you know which ones are good for you.
And you don’t want to second-guess those.
After writing over 300 daily blog posts (and journaling for 926 days), here’s my main takeaway:
Once you decide you’re responsible for writing that daily sentence, learning that language, doing that workout…
Once you decide you’re responsible for making it happen, no matter the circumstances or external events (travel, sickness, emergencies,…)
That’s when you’ll notice that there are very few excuses that truly stop you from making it happen.
And that’s when you have the opportunity to become who you’ve always wanted to be.
You don’t need to feel motivated to write a sentence.
You don’t even need to want to write to have words appear on the screen or the paper.
You just need to be reminded that you want to be a writer.
And writers write, just like runners run. Musicians make music. Parents parent. Yogis do yoga. Farmers farm.
Even if they don’t feel like it.
Sometimes I ask myself if you are asking yourself why I write you a short note every day, my friend.
Maybe I’m giving myself too much credit, and you’ve never asked yourself that question.
But I will answer it anyway, so let’s pretend you have.
Here’s the socially acceptable answer: for more than 200 days, I’ve been writing you a short note every day to remind you to make intelligent decisions about your life and who you want to be.
But as so often with us humans, the honest answer is more self-centered: I write you a short note every day to remind myself to make intelligent decisions about my life and who I want to be.
The fact that some insights are helpful to you is a nice bonus. But I would also write them if you have yet to read a single one of these insights.
Because to me, writing every day is a rallying cry for myself in an invisible battle that nobody might ever see – because it only exists in my head.
A battle against frustration, giving up, limiting beliefs, and a cage of social conditioning from which it’s hard to break free.
A battle to become who I’ve always wanted to be.
Yes, every note I write to you, my friend, is outward proof of a tiny inner victory, taking tiny steps towards more self-trust and fulfillment.
You may tell me I don’t have anything to prove to anyone, especially not myself.
And you may be right.
But I also know that we all have our battles to fight.
Battles about what we believe we deserve or not.
What we think we can do or not.
What we believe is possible for us or not.
What we desire.
Who we can be.
So while you might not be asking yourself why I write you something every day, I am asking myself which battles you are fighting.
I am looking for outward proof of your inner victories.
Whatever they are, when you shine a light on your invisible battles, I’ll be here to cheer you on.
I am tired today.
But I’ll write you something either way, my friend.
Maybe not a full essay.
Maybe just a little wordplay.
But I’ll write you either way.
Why, you say?
Simple.
Because I want this, I want us to be one of those habits that are here to stay.
What are you doing either way because you want it to be one of those habits that are here to stay?
Every day in which I write, I build my body of work.
As I build my body of work, I also build a hierarchy of quality.
Because every day, my writing will be slightly better or worse than the day before.
That means that the more I write, comparatively, the more good writing I’ll do.
It also means that the more I write, comparatively, the more bad writing I do.
Both are necessary.
Good writing, to feel progress.
Bad writing, to know what good writing looks and feels like in the first place.
It’s all part of the process.
If you write more consistently than you don’t write, you’re a writer.
If you run more consistently than you don’t run, you’re a runner.
And while every action you take is a vote for who you want to be, you don’t need 100% of the votes to build a habit or adopt an identity.
It’s okay to slip up, it’s okay to take a break, and it’s okay to make a mistake – as long as you cast enough votes in favor of your desired identity.
Don’t be a hardliner nor a totalitarian. Be disciplined without fearing the occasional laps.
Focus on maintaining the majority.
If you want to be a writer, write wholeheartedly and consistently until you start believing you’re a writer and you trust you’ll always be – then relax.
If you want to be a runner, run wholeheartedly and consistently until you start believing you’re a runner and you trust you’ll always be – then relax.
If you want to be there for your family, start being there for them wholeheartedly and consistently until you start believing you’re a family guy and you trust you’ll always be – then relax.
Voting fraud doesn’t exist in your body and mind.
You can’t cheat your way into being a writer. Your body and mind count every word as a vote for being a writer.
You can’t cheat your way into being a runner. Your body and mind count every every stride as a vote for being a runner.
You can’t cheat your way into being healthy. Your body and mind count every nutrient.
Luckily, you don’t need a landslide to change your identity. A simple majority is enough to make the power balance tip over.
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