I don’t care much for indifference.
But dismissal… that’s something else.
The more I dismiss something, the more curious I get.
Does it contradict my values?
Am I afraid?
Or am I pushing away something I secretly want?
I don’t know what it is about dismissal, my friend.
But I do know that the stronger the feelings, the more interesting it gets.
Can you say loud and clear
this is what I love
this gives me energy
this is why I’m here?
Can you then do what you love
do what gives you energy
do it, live it
without fear?
Can you choose to write your own stories
without letting them be tainted by past memories
or future worries?
Can you enjoy what you do
without believing it’s not for you?
I can say I want to publish a new book.
Double my income.
Get in shape.
Learn another language.
But hidden beneath the surface of lofty goals are daily actions.
Publishing a book… What does that really mean?
Who is that person who has published the book? (Not just written… actually published?)
What do they say to themselves?
What do they think?
What do they feel?
What do they do every day? And what can I start doing every day to become more of that person who has written that book?
Most importantly, am I willing to take those actions every day to reach whatever goal I’m after?
Am I willing to change?
If not, is that goal even important to me?
Who do I choose to be?
We regret the past, worry about the future, and forget about the now.
What if I:
To let go of the past:
To create a future with fewer worries:
To be in the moment:
The constant: write Morning Pages.
Here’s a question Tim Ferris asks startup founders (and himself) when deciding to invest time and money into a new project:
“If, in one (or two, or three) years from now, this whole project has failed miserably… Which assumptions you hold today were proven wrong?”
Tim Ferris
Answering the question first requires defining failure and success.
For my project of publishing a daily insight on this blog success looks like this:
Write & publish.
Edit.
Write & publish.
Edit.
Then write & publish some more.
Good, bad, well-received or not, received or read by anyone at all, it doesn’t matter.
Because first of all, writing is a creative outlet for me.
Second: long as I write & publish consistently, I trust I will get better at writing and publishing.
Finally: I trust that from all that sculpting away, day by day, will come better and better insights.
A pretty low bar for success – which, counterintuitively, often leads to more progress long-term.
Now we have established that:
What are the assumptions that could be wrong if next year, it turns out I failed to write & publish every day?
Here are some I can think of:
Will these assumptions be proven wrong?
Only time will tell.
Until then… I write & publish… then write & publish some more.
When I write, I’m meditating.
When I meditate, I’m writing.
When I run, I’m meditating.
When I meditate, I’m running.
When I play the guitar, I’m meditating.
When I meditate, I’m playing the guitar.
When I meditate, I’m writing.
When I write, I’m running.
When I run, I’m playing the guitar.
And no matter what I do, I’m always living.
Life experience always carries over.
Choosing perfection over consistency, you’ll turn dreams into paralysis. And paralysis leads to failure.
Choosing consistency over perfection, you’ll turn dreams into small actions. And consistent small actions lead to the realization of dreams.
