Publishing a daily blog post may seem unreasonable to you,
but for me, it’s just what I do.
Going for a daily run may seem unreasonable to you,
but for me… it’s just what I do.
For you it may be an unreasonable thing to do,
yeet I am me.
And you are you.
What’s an unreasonable thing for everyone else,
but for you, it’s just what you do?
Some days I have ten ideas to write about. Some days, zero.
But when I lack ideas to write about, the ideas aren’t really gone. I’m in a scarcity state: my brain chemistry prevents me from accessing the insights.
When I feel lonely, friends and family I can connect with aren’t really gone. I’m in a scarcity state: my brain chemistry prevents me from connecting with them.
Scarcity is like pollution.
When noise pollution of cars, planes and construction machines drown out the singing of the birds, the birds aren’t really gone. I just can’t hear them.
When light pollution drowns out the stars, they’re not really gone. I just can’t see them.
So how do I get out of scarcity? How do I reduce pollution?
Here’s what works for me:
Notice I’m in scarcity mode. Then move. Meditate. Do stream-of-consciousness journaling.
Then find a place where I hear the birds.
Find a place where I can see the stars.
Write anyway.
And connect with friends and family anyway.
Fulfillment doesn’t come from closing the gap between wanting and having.
It comes from closing the gap between wanting and doing.
Want to write a book? Then write every day – even if you don’t have the book yet.
Want to start a successful business? Then start the business – even if you’re not successful yet.
Want to run a marathon? Then run every day – even if you haven’t run a marathon yet.
After all, you might never close the gap between wanting and having.
But the gap between wanting and doing, you can close right this very moment.
You know I like word games, my friend.
Let’s play with mistakes today.
I don’t like that word—such a negative emotional charge.
And what’s the opposite of a mistake, anyway?
We have a word for doing things wrong, but not for doing things right?
Could we call mistakes lessons?
Bleh, so bland. Heard that a million times before.
What about misguided actions?
Better. Actions that guide me away from my intended outcome. And after a misguided action, I adjust my strategy. I course-correct. Until I get it right and take… guided action?
We’re not there yet. But guided and misguided actions… I don’t know about you, my friend, but to me, that’s going in the right direction.
A bit like traction and distraction.
But that’s a word game for another day.
The article I publish today may be worse than one I wrote 2 months ago.
I may struggle today with a guitar piece I played effortlessly last week.
And when I meditate today, my mind may be all over the place, even though last week it was calm as water.
On any given day, I may feel that I’m making progress, that I’ve reached a plateau, or even that I’m going backwards.
But it doesn’t matter.
Progress isn’t always visible in daily practice. But without daily practice, there is no progress.
If I stick to daily practice, on average, I’ll get better. I’ll start having more good days than bad. And slowly but surely, my ‘bad days’ will start being better than what I consider a ‘good day’ right now.
Progress, averaged out is what it’s all about.
Which conclusions did I draw from past experiences?
Have I overreacted to petty events, and ignored beautiful moments?
Have I deleted memories? Maybe invented some?
Have I built stories based on generalizations?
Most importantly: how does the past I still feel affect my actions today?
And if I know a lot of it was my own interpretation… could I change my past, or at least what it means to me?
Would that set me free?
I was undoubtedly in a pensive mood when writing this.
I guess, given the daily letters I send you, you might conclude I’m in a pensive mood every day.
And you wouldn’t be wrong.
But pensive moods can be useful – when they’re coupled with conclusions and insights. Maybe even with Tiny Trust Builders.
And if any of these questions help you re-interpret your past and set you free, too, I’ll be a happy man.
A wistful win-win.
I basically write the same song over and over, but they’re just verses of this one really long one. I’m trying to figure it out.
The Tallest Man on Earth
I write every day so I start to understand what I really want to say.
I don’t usually get it right on the first try; maybe I’m not even getting close after 100 iterations.
And that’s fine.
There probably won’t be one post that captures it all.
Maybe understanding emerges from whole of the 100 iterations instead?
