#489 Maybe the detour is the way
If you don’t often go on detours, would there even be life in your day?
Maybe going astray IS the way.
If you don’t often go on detours, would there even be life in your day?
Maybe going astray IS the way.
I’m not writing because I can’t write?
I’m not playing the guitar because I’m bad at music?
I’m not learning a language because I’m bad at learning languages?
That’s the world on its head.
The truth is: you can’t write because you’re not writing.
You can’t play the guitar because you’re not playing the guitar.
You can’t speak the language because you’re not learning the language.
If you would write every day, cognitive dissonance starts doing its work. Your actions will overrule your thoughts and beliefs.
And every day you write, you’re becoming a writer.
Every day you play the guitar, you’re becoming a guitar player.
Every day you learn a language, you’re becoming a language learner.
The only reason you can’t do it because you’re not doing it.
Don’t get it backwards.
When you start a new project, excitement eclipses sacrifices.
But when things get serious, you must know what you’re in for.
Your dreams may be worth every sacrifice. But you better know why, before life has passed you by.
When you decide if you should be chasing this goal, job, relationship, or place to live – in other words, commitment – you choose between action or inaction based on if it’s a viable, worthwhile, realistic goal.
When you decide on the course of action – in other words, how to do something – you’re already committed to action.
Sometimes, the commitment might be too big, too hard, or too disruptive – and that’s perfectly valid.
But here’s what I’ve noticed, my friend: whenever I try to decide on the how before I’ve decided on the commitment, I have even more doubts, and any course of action seems complicated.
I’m curious how you feel about it. We’ll talk more about it in the coming days and weeks.
It’s not a masterpiece.
It’s not a love song.
It’s not a poem.
Make it not about what you create but about the very fact that you’re creating.
Ugly, pretty, insightful, bland. It doesn’t matter. Just externalize your mind’s chatter.
Writing every day won’t always help you achieve your greatest desires.
But it might help you lose them — when you realize that what you really wanted was not the outcome, but the feeling of consciously choosing who you want to be, and consciously acting in alignment with that choice.
Once the desires have fallen away, all that remains is the fulfillment every day.
You can relax now.
One question to make distractions fall away and make the mind turn quiet:
What’s most important right this very second?
Not today. Not this week. Right this very second.