#480 You don’t have be hard on yourself today
Life could be hard on you today.
But you don’t have to be hard on yourself.
You always could.
Sometimes you should.
But most of the time, you don’t have to.
Life could be hard on you today.
But you don’t have to be hard on yourself.
You always could.
Sometimes you should.
But most of the time, you don’t have to.
Every day we spend another day of our lives.
Where do I spend it?
Why?
Who do I spend it with?
Why?
What do I spend it on?
Why?
What’s it all about?
The same beliefs that tell you “I could never write consistently. I could never run consistently. I could never meditate consistently. That’s just not me.” can be flipped on its head.
“I can’t not write consistently – that’s just not me.”
“I can’t not eat healthily consistently – that’s just not me.”
“I can’t not meditate consistently – that’s just not me.”
All it takes is overruling your thoughts through consistent actions.
Consistent votes for your new identity.
Consistent Tiny Trust Builders.
Soon, the scale will tip.
What you spend your time on.
Who you spend your time with.
Who you listen to.
What you listen to.
Never forget, you get to choose.
Ernest Hemingway allegedly stopped his writing sessions in the middle of a sentence so he knew how to start his next session. He stopped writing, even if he could do more.
Julia Cameron teaches to write precisely three pages of stream-of-consciousness journaling a day. Stop journaling, even if you could do more.
I’ve gotten better results studying foreign languages 20 minutes a day for several months than rushing into a new language and studying it for 3 hours a day, then crashing and burning. I stop myself from learning, even if I could do more.
Because burnout and overindulgence stifle progress, and in the long run, moderation leads to more.
It rains – you keep breathing.
The sun is out – you keep breathing.
You win – you keep breathing.
You lose – you keep breathing.
You feel good – you keep breathing.
You feel bad – you keep breathing.
Whatever happens, you can keep breathing. And you can continue with what’s important to you.
What do we do when AI can cobble together in seconds essays that take us hours (or days) to write – not even counting years of practice?
Maybe it just raises the bar for us – requiring is to make new work that continues to stand out from AI-generated content.
As things stand, that’s still possible.
But what happens when the bar is set so high that our human brains can’t jump over it anymore, even with a lifetime of practice?