If I want to act differently, I let go of the past.
If I want to act the same way I always did, I cling to the past.
Both clinging and letting go have their place.
I could cling to a habit of eating healthily, or treating others with kindness.
But maybe I could let go of a habit of self-criticism.
What benefits me? What benefits others?
What harms me? What harms others?
Who do I want to be?
You can labor for years on a business with little results until suddenly it blows up.
Then after enjoying your breakthrough, you continue your journey until the next big jump.
You’re never done building your business.
You can practice a yoga pose for months with little results until suddenly your body understands, and you’re able to perform it.
Then after enjoying your breakthrough, you continue your journey of discovery.
You’re never done practicing yoga.
You can practice a language for months without being able to string together any sentences until suddenly, your brain understands, and you’re able to speak with ease.
Then after enjoying your breakthrough, you’ll continue your language-learning journey.
You’re never done learning a language.
Giving up on your intentions once doesn’t mean you’ll always give up.
Quitting a workout routine or diet once doesn’t mean you’re doomed forever.
Giving one clumsy speech doesn’t mean you’re a bad public speaker forever.
Learning from the past is good. But predicting the future based on a small set of isolated past experiences is overcalibration.
I made an account on Instagram to stay in touch with friends abroad. Now I habitually spend hours a day scrolling through Instagram feeds. Is this a purposeful pursuit?
I started journaling to clear my head. Now I habitually write and publish insights every day. Is this a purposeful pursuit?
Good intentions and purposeful actions inevitably turn into a habit, and that can be a good or a bad thing.
Constantly questioning our actions leads to paralysis.
But once in a while, gaining presence and reaffirming your intentions can be enough to put you back on track.
Start small.
Very small.
So small, it might feel silly at first.
For example, if you’ve committed to writing every day, don’t start by aiming to write a thousand words. Start with something you can absolutely, positively achieve.
Maybe that’s writing one sentence. Maybe it’s opening your notebook. Maybe it’s just holding a pen!
Your goal isn’t to produce fantastic prose, but simply to show up and write something.
After all, before it can be about the content, it must be about the consistency.
Be fulfilled with what you do (and be happy with what you don’t do).
Be intentional with what you do.
Be consistent with what you do.
Because what you do will change you.
And when you change, you might just get everything you ever wanted.
And you might just become happy with what you have.
Change happens when you let go of defective perspectives about who you were, are, and could be.
What you used to do, are doing, and could do.
What’s possible for you, and what’s not.
Whatever your current perspective, it’s defective. Or at least incomplete.
Life is beautifully unpredictable. You are beautifully unpredictable.
I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
