Only when you know you can get through the bad moments, you can fully appreciate the good moments without fear of them
fading away.
Only when the fear of failure disappears, you can fully succeed.
Good or bad, you’ll be fine either way. That belief is all you need.
To know what you’re going to write, you have to begin writing.
Similarly, to know why you’re writing, you have to begin writing.
The lure towards writing is what sets you in motion.
And so it goes for drawing. Singing. Building. Entrepreneurship. Creating. Meeting friends. Lovers. Life partners.
The act itself is what reveals both the purpose and the shape.
We naturally move towards pleasure and away from pain – with one exception: painful comfort.
If you’re used to believing that you’re bad at languages, there’s painful comfort in struggling with languages.
If you’re used to negative self-talk, there’s painful comfort in negative self-talk.
If you’re used to working 12-hour days, there’s painful comfort in working 12-hour days.
If you’re used to constant conflict, there’s painful comfort in constant conflict.
If you’re used to neglect, there’s painful comfort in neglect.
Painful comfort is keeping you comfortable AND hurting you.
Years of conditioning have given it an irresistible pull – until you decide to take a leap of faith and start believing that you, too, can change.
Where are you perpetuating painful comfort in life?
You can be a writer with spelling mistakes.
A language learning expert who is afraid of speaking a foreign language.
A psychologist who doesn’t always feel good.
A teacher who doesn’t have all the answers.
You can be anything.
And you’ll always be human.
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
Not everyone learns the same way.
But one thing’s for sure: whether it’s practicing a foreign language, playing an instrument, or studying for an examyou’d learn more if you’d practice a little every day.
“I can only do that when…”
Remove the “only” and the when”.
I can do that.
And so can you.
