I can write today, resent myself for not writing… or stop caring at all about writing.
I can publish a blog post today, resent myself for not posting, or stop caring at all about blog posts.
Taking action on something I care about is a valid choice.
Stopping to care about taking a certain action is an equally valid choice.
Resenting myself for not taking an action I care about… that’s a choice for self-torture.
Getting better at something isn’t about making no mistakes.
It’s not even about making fewer mistakes.
It’s about repeating fewer rookie mistakes, so there’s space for you to notice more subtle errors.
If you think you’re making fewer mistakes, you’re either not progressing past your current skill level, or you’re not paying attention.
It’s not about the book; it’s about the fact that you started writing consistently.
It’s not about the marathon; it’s about the fact that you started practicing diligently.
Achievements are the results that will soon become a distant memory.
Habits are the results you’ll carry with you for a lifetime.
Admiring (flawed) early work is easy when we already know the late work is going to be great.
Everyone forgives Picasso or Da Vinci for a lousy early sketch. In fact, people pay good money to hang one in their living room.
Maybe the early work, showing that even the greats are mere mortals on a journey towards excellence, is the most valuable?
And yet, it’s much harder to be gentle on a beginning artist for shipping mediocre creative work – not in the least for the beginning artist themselves – when their path to excellence hasn’t unfolded yet.
After all, something that one day will be “my early work” is still “my current best work” today.
The road to excellence is invisible from the trenches.
But that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.
Which makes me wonder…
When I know that through persistence and daily practice, one day, I’ll look back on today’s creation, smiling, thinking: “Oh how far I’ve come… How much I’ve learned… And some of this was actually pretty good…”
Can I admire my creative work less for what it looks, feels, or sounds like, and more for who I’m becoming through making it?
Can I do the same for the creative projects of others?
With that mindset… How much easier and forgiving would the daily creative journey be?
Before I write, I barely know what I want to write.
The more I write, the more I know what I’m meant to write.
Intention can be there before the practice. But meaning only shows up when YOU show up.
It’s easy to be non-violent when you’re in a flower garden
Josh Waitzkin – The art of learning
It’s easy to be kind to others when the world has always been kind to you.
It’s easy to say you want to be a writer when you never really put yourself out there to prove it.
To learn writing, I must confront the uncomfortable parts of writing – and learn not to respond by running away from it.
To learn non-violence, I must confront violence – and learn not to respond with violence in return.
To learn kindness, I must confront being hurt – and learn not to use that as an excuse to perpetuate the cycle of hurt.
To build trust in myself, I must stay true to my values under difficult conditions.
Make way for the people, projects, and things you want to stay.
Life goes fast enough already without you pressuring it.
No rush. Less haste. More space.
