It’s not just about wanting to be good at writing.
It’s about believing you’re a consistent writer.
And consistent writers write consistently…
And people who write consistently eventually become good at writing.
When you choose the right identity, everything falls into place.
I write every day until I’m a writer.
I paint every day until I’m a painter.
I practice the guitar every day until I’m a guitar player.
I love my family every day until I become a family person.
I prove to myself that I can take one daily action aligned with who I want to be.
And before I know it, the practice becomes the identity.
Talking about “good and bad ideas” implies a ranking. Good, compared to what? Bad, compared to what?
The truth is that most ideas you produce will be average – because there is no other way.
Not all ideas can be your best idea – and if they are, they will soon be replaced by a better idea. Your previous best idea has now become average.
Not all ideas can be your worst idea either. And if they are, they will soon be replaced by an even worse idea. Your worst idea has now become average.
This dynamic matters. Because if you produce an idea a day, compared to someone producing one idea a month, your chances of replacing your current best idea with something better are much higher.
You’ll also likely replace your current worst idea with something even worse – and that’s fine. You’re increasing amplitude in both directions. It’s all part of the practice.
The more ideas you have, the bigger your sample size. The more elaborate the ranking. The better the good ideas. The worse the bad ideas.
All this to say: bad, average, and good ideas ALL stack the odds of striking gold in your favor. What matters is that you show up and generate ideas.
The first hour after I was born, 60 minutes encapsulated my entire life outside the womb.
An hour is an eternity.
When I celebrated my first trip around the sun, one year encapsulated my entire life outside the womb.
An hour is not that long anymore. But a year… that’s an eternity.
When I’ll celebrate my 30th birthday next year, one year encapsulates about 1/30th of my experience in this body here on earth.
A year is not that long anymore. But 30 years… that’s an eternity.
Lukas Van Vyve
There’s an absolute, immutable version of time, and then there’s our felt interpretation, which speeds up with every passing moment because we compare it to all the “time we’ve lived so far”.
Maybe that’s why the older we get, the more effort it takes to stay in the present moment?
Because, unlike a newborn child, for whom, compared to its short lifespan, an hour is an eternity, and every second is an opportunity to discover, drink in the world, explore…
We’ve lived so many hours, minutes, and seconds that we don’t care anymore.
with every passing year
Lukas Van Vyve
i’m more in a hurry
and the days, minutes, seconds
become ever more blurry
i can live fast and miss out
or slow down
listen, look around
be here, right now
let the world whisper loud
what life is all about
and at last
i hear you again.
Passion is writing whenever you can.
Discipline is writing even when you can’t.
Even if you don’t write today, you’ll still be okay.
And knowing that, now you know you’re not forced to write, now the pressure gone, you might as well write something anyway.
Watching a sitcom or soap opera episode takes 20 minutes – and somehow, we always seem to find time for it.
Doing some stretches or a quick workout can take as little as 15 minutes – yet somehow, it’s very hard to find time for it.
Many good habits take take less time than watching a sitcom – and during and after, they’re often quite enjoyable. But our mind makes it so hard to start.
Whenever something that’s good for you feels insurmountable and your mind starts playing tricks on you, put it into perspective.
Doing this thing will take less time than watching a sitcom.
Maybe I could even do it while watching the sitcom.
And doing it will be a vote for the person I want to become.
