I won’t believe I can publish a blog post every day – until I publish a blog post every day.
I won’t believe I can run a marathon – until I run a marathon.
I won’t believe I can speak a foreign language – until I speak a foreign language.
I won’t believe I can work through trauma – until I work through trauma.
You don’t have to believe something to start doing it.
You do something to start believing it.
Most people don’t really want the freedom to do anything they want, in other words, a life without constraints.
They want the freedom to set their own constraints.
To decide, “I want to spend my time writing,” instead of saying, “I am supposed to become a lawyer because that’s what we do in this family.”
To decide, “I don’t drink alcohol,” instead of saying, “My social circle forces me to have a glass when I’m out.”
To decide, “I want to live in that house, drive that car, and go on that exotic holiday, and I’m going to make it happen,” instead of saying, “I’m constrained by my talent, potential, current job, or where I grew up.”
To decide, “I have time to learn a new language because it’s important to me,” instead of saying, “I’m too busy, I can’t (or don’t deserve to) do anything nice for myself.”
Good or bad, beneficial or misguided, constraints are always there.
Because life constantly forces you to make decisions, and every decision leads to a new constraint.
Since it’s challenging to be aware of your decisions and their long-term constraining effects, which constraints do you consider important enough to set consciously (and spend considerable time and effort doing so)?
Where do you allow others to dictate the constraints you live within?
Who do you allow to dictate the constraints you live within?
Pick your freedom battles.
I could consider myself a writer if I write 20,000 words a day – and I would be right.
Or I could consider myself a writer if I write one sentence a day – and I would be right.
I could consider myself a writer if I’ve written a book – and I would be right.
Or I could consider myself a writer the moment I’ve decided I’m going to be a writer – and I would be right.
I could consider myself a writer if I’ve built up enough self-trust and taken enough daily actions that prove that I genuinely care about being a writer – and I would be right.
Whether you’re aware of them or not, you’re using subjective measuring sticks for everything, usually determined by upbringing, culture, and societal pressure.
But nothing stops you from consciously choosing your measuring sticks (depending on your goals, you could make them easier or more challenging) and setting yourself up for more fulfillment and success.
Here are some questions that can help:
When you say you want to be {successful, happy, fulfilled, fit, wealthy}…
How do you know you’re reaching your goal?
Is it an achievement?
A material possession?
A feeling?
An action you take?
A decision you make?
Choose wisely.
If you know where you should go, relax. You’ll get there, fast or slow.
If you don’t know where you should go, relax. You’ll probably still get where you must go.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Keep moving.
Fast or slow.
You’ll write the book until you start doubting if you have it in you to write it… then realize that the only way to find out is by actually writing the book.
You’ll prepare for the marathon until you start doubting if you can finish it… then realize that the only way to find out is by actually running the marathon.
You’ll build the business until you start doubting if this is a viable idea… then realize that the only way to find out is by actually building the business.
No matter how much you dance circles, ignoring what your gut has been telling you, deep down, you know: this is where you should’ve gone all along.
Progress is a silent play, but it’s the whispers of daily practice that leads to the roars of fulfilment.
Even your “bad days” are stepping stones to a brighter “good day”.
Slow and steady.
The more frequent and the less intrusive the habit, the easier it is to stick to.
Commit to writing for an hour once week? You’ll find a million reasons to procrastinate until the very last moment, on Sunday night, to write.
Commit to writing for 5 minutes once a day? The timeline is so short, there are no more excuses.
Make it doable. Make it frequent. And suddenly every habit is within reach.
