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.
I can believe I must understand the theory before I engage in practice, or I can believe that theory makes more sense when it explains my practice.
Theory and practice are partners, and more often than not, it should be practice that leads the dance.
For all the languages I’ve learned
trying in vain to put the inner and outer world into words
closely but not completely capturing the essence
I now realize the biggest insights reveal themselves
where words are worthless and feelings reign
where they are felt and lived, embodied,
refusing to be rationalized, categorized
or undergo the violent limitations of our words.
Maybe language learning is more about admitting that some languages are lived, not learned.
That some insights are felt, not expressed.
That sometimes words create distance from what we experience deep down, instead of offering the clarity we seek.
Accepting that may well be the biggest challenge of all.
There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen.
Rumi
Passion is writing whenever you can.
Discipline is writing even when you can’t.
Unexplored territory to you is usually well-trodden path to someone else.
So observe. Learn.
Because what comes next also came before.
Who you are and what you do consistently always coincide. After all, your repeated actions create your identity.
But who you want to be and what you consistently do don’t usually coincide. Otherwise, you would already have become who you want to be.
You want to be a writer, but you’re not consistently writing? Writing consistently will bridge the gap between your current and desired identity.
You want to be a guitar player, but you’re not consistently playing the guitar? Practicing daily will bridge the gap between your current and desired identity.
Could you make your actions coincide with your desired identity?
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.
