First, envision the future you – the one you’d love to be.
Now, what would that future you do today? What would they avoid?
And if you start acting like your future you today…
Have you not pulled the future you into the present…
Have you not already become who you’ve always wanted to be?
You don’t know what tomorrow will bring.
But you do have a say in how you spend today.
And when you go to bed, and tomorrow becomes today, you’ll have a say in that day too.
And when you spend every today doing what’s important, maybe you don’t even need to know what the future holds.
It only takes one new habit to restore faith in the malleable mind.
“I’ve never been good at languages. Until I learned my first foreign language. If I can do that… what else is possible?”
“I’ve never been good at public speaking. Until I gave my first speech, and then my second, and then my twentieth. If I can do that… What else is possible?”
“I always give up on projects before I bring them to completion. Until I completed one project. Then another. Then another. If I can do that… What else is possible?“
If something I thought I could never do becomes possible, cracks start to appear in my limiting beliefs.
It’s not just about the habits. It’s about the belief that you can change your habits, trust in your ability to complete projects and stick to your routine.
And the only way to build that is through taking small daily actions that are votes for who you want to be (and what you want to achieve).
Again: it only takes one new daily action to start restoring your belief in the malleable mind.
Start with one. Then discover what else is possible.
I can’t predict what will happen tomorrow – or even today.
But I do know that today, I resolve to write.
And tomorrow I resolve to write once again.
And that resolve has brought me to 439 consecutive days of writing.
439 days of writing, despite living in an unpredictable world.
439 days of realizing most obstacles are excuses.
439 days of proving that resolve can bring you pretty far.
Every day in which I write, I build my body of work.
As I build my body of work, I also build a hierarchy of quality.
Because every day, my writing will be slightly better or worse than the day before.
That means that the more I write, comparatively, the more good writing I’ll do.
It also means that the more I write, comparatively, the more bad writing I do.
Both are necessary.
Good writing, to feel progress.
Bad writing, to know what good writing looks and feels like in the first place.
It’s all part of the process.
You’re not defined by the saint you wish to be someday.
Nor by the sinner you used to be back in the day.
You’re defined by the actions you decide to take today.
And tomorrow.
And the day after.
But mainly right now. Today.
“Don’t you ever run out of ways to write a letter every day on the same topic?” I imagine you ask me.
In fact, I don’t have to imagine it. I have been asked this question many a time. Not in the least by myself.
Yet here we are, over 200 days in, and I’ve learned that there are many more ways to say the same thing than I ever thought possible.
What’s more: I’ve learned that they’re all equally important.
Because today’s letter could be what finally makes it click for you.
Because today’s letter could be what finally makes it click for me.
Because today’s letter invalidates my scarcity beliefs around idea generation – after all, if I can come up with a new letter every day for 200+ days, where else do I mistakenly believe I’ll run out of ideas, opportunities, or possibilities?
And, of course, because today’s letter is my personal Tiny Trust Builder.
So for as long as I can, for as long as I need it, and for as long as I believe YOU need it, you’ll receive a letter every day.
That’s right: every day, more wordplay
finding a thousand ways to say
that no matter what comes your way
only your self-trust is here to stay.
