You don’t become truly happy when a Duolingo owl, notifications, or leaderboards guilted them into spending hours on their phone – even if they learn something.
Could we create learning environments that build self-trust (you showed up because it’s important for you to show up)?
Discipline (I stuck to my plan and I feel good about it)?
Agency (I chose to do this today)?
Could you be at peace when you make massive progress?
Could you be at peace when feel you’re going backwards?
Could you be at peace when nothing seems to be moving at all?
Could you be at peace no matter what, because you know what must happen must happen?
Language helps us describe the world we perceive. Yet in doing so, it closes our eyes, our ears, our touch, and our heart to the parts of the world we don’t have words for.
Every language is a lens on a felt reality within and around us – both clarifying and categorizing the world, and limiting it by the words it has available.
Learning more languages gives you new lenses – and a richer sense of reality.
But just like the structure of our ears limit the sounds we can hear, and the structure of our eyes limit colors we can see, the structure of any language somehow limits our felt experience of the world.
How do we re-access memories, emotions, hidden away in a long-forgotten language?
How do we re-learn to listen to the voices of the wordless world speaking to our animal self… the voices that once upon a time, before verbal language emerged, were all we had?
there’s an eternal song
drowned out by the confines of my mother tongue
a wordless melody that once made sense
until our brain started blurring it with a lens
narrowing it down
neglecting its nuances through verbs and nounswith all its might language wants us to abide
Lukas Van Vyve
but the wordless world it tries to hide
will forever be inside
At any given time in your day, if you’re doing what you set out to do, whether it’s work, play, going for a walk, or taking a nap, you’re gaining traction. In other words, you’re taking action and are moving towards a goal you set… and you’re becoming more of the person you want to be.
If you’re not doing what you set out to do, you’re getting distracted. You’re taking action and are moving away from the goal you set… and you’re becoming less of the person you want to be.
Traction, distraction… it’s all action. The only difference: are your actions deliberate, and have you intentionally chosen who you want to be (and which actions align with that identity)?
I can consciously set out, in advance to write for two hours a day, because I want to be a writer. Then, if I end up actually writing during those two hours, I’m gaining traction towards that goal and the person I want to be: a writer.
I can also consciously set out, in advance, to watch a Netflix series afterward as a reward for my hard labor, because I want to be someone who also allows downtime and relaxation in my day.
And if during that time I set out to watch that series, I actually watch the series, guess what: I’m gaining traction towards that goal and identity too! (BUT following this logic, if during the time I set aside for Netflix, I decide to keep writing, strangely enough, the writing has now become the distraction. This is how you become a workaholic.)
If I set out to meet with friends, or have a romantic date night because I want to be someone who values friendships and relationships, and I follow through… yep, now I’m gaining traction in that domain too.
The same goes for anything else I consciously decide to do on any given day.
Choose for traction and let your actions be a vote for who you want to be.
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.
You could always do more of something.
But maybe you don’t have to.
Maybe what you’re doing is already enough.
Maybe you’re already enough.
And everything else is extra.
What would you finally dare to do today
if you knew whatever you try will never be perfect anyway?
Publish a story with typos and awkward sentences?
Run a marathon without finishing it?
Play a guitar piece and trip up five times?
Sing in front of other people and miss a note?
Try a new yoga pose in class and fall over?
Nothing will be perfect today.
Nothing will be perfect tomorrow.
But if you take imperfect action
and dare to publish imperfect work
everything you do will have the perfect taste of progress and consistency.
And that’s all that counts anyway.
