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.
You can wait to start writing until that moment when the frustration builds up so much that not writing becomes unbearable.
But why wait for the pain if you could just write today?
After all, you’re not waiting to become a writer. You’re already a writer. You’re just not writing. Yet.
And all of that can change in one moment of deciding not to wait, but to write.
Trying to become good fast makes you impatient. And impatience may well stop you from ever becoming good in the first place.
Because the only way to become good is by understanding that in today’s practice session, you likely won’t be perfect anyway.
That you likely won’t write your most insightful words.
That you likely won’t run an all-time best.
That you’ll likely spend a large part of your yoga session stumbling and losing balance.
When you go into your practice session with that mindset…
Suddenly it makes sense to focus hard on getting that one sentence right.
Now it makes sense to focus on rhythmic breathing while running instead of pushing for a better time.
Now it makes sense to focus on a tiny part of your body during an entire yoga session to train your awareness instead of trying to chase poses because “they look professional.”
Even if there is not much time to “become good,” it still makes sense to assume there is time.
Because that gives you the freedom to focus on the small adjustments that prepare you for when the time comes, and you truly need to perform.
Since I’m always practicing anyway, I don’t have to be good at this today.
I’ll never believe I can write until I allow myself to write.
I’ll never believe I can grow my body stronger until I allow myself to do do something consistently to grow my body stronger.
I’ll never believe I can mend a mistreated mind until I allow my mind to be mended.
I’ll never believe I can heal a broken heart until I allow myself to start loving again.
You don’t start doing something because you believe you can do it.
You do it because you find leverage to allow yourself to do it, even if it feels outside your comfort zone.
Until here, and no further.
On Sunday, January 3 2021, motivated by an emotional low point and an article I read on writing “Morning Pages”, I grabbed an old notepad, pen, started writing and didn’t stop until I had filled three pages.
It was the first time in 5 years I wrote something by hand, and the first time in my life I journaled.
I liked it so much that I kept writing every day.
We’re 625 days later now, and I never stopped. 3 pages of Stream of Consciousness journaling a day, 625 days in a row: that’s 1875 pages or relaxing the mind and letting my train of thoughts “stream onto the page”, unfiltered, playfully wandering through my experiences, thoughts, and insights.
But no matter how enjoyable the wandering, lately I’ve been feeling the urge to create something tangible (and valuable) with all those insights and ideas.
Here’s how I envision it:
Daily journaling (Morning Pages) unblocks my stream of consciousness and transfers it to paper, forming the raw material out of which ideas and insights can emerge. In my experience, once I’ve gone through the sea of fluff, I can expect an insight (maybe two if I’m lucky).
Daily sculpting helps me remove all the fluff until only the pure insights are left, and then refine them, like a sculptor chiseling away at a massive block of marble, working to reveal the essence hidden inside of it.
“If you want me to give you a two-hour presentation, I am ready today. If you want only a five-minute speech, it will take me two weeks to prepare.”
– Mark Twain
Sculpting is the hard part. Because when you think about it, the raw material – the ideas and insights – have always been there, just like the famous Davide sculpture has always been hidden inside the block of marble Michelangelo hauled from a quarry in Carrara in the Apuan alps. He just paid attention in a different way and saw what many others didn’t see.
Yet, he wasn’t the only person who had the idea to use a block of marble to sculpt a Biblical figure. But the way he shaped that raw material into something impactful, beautiful, that accurately represents what you had in mind…
That made all the difference.
And it’s a skill that takes a long time to hone.
Which might be why I’ve avoided it for so long. So far, out of 1875 pages of journaling, I’ve published… 4 articles.
Time to change that. From today onwards, I’m adding a “sculpting session” to my day and will publish the result as a “Daily Insight”.
I don’t expect it to be particularly insightful anytime soon. Maybe I’ll never be fully satisfied with anything I come up with.
But when I stick to it every day and arrive at day 50, 100, or day 625…
Who knows how much I’ll have learned about writing, insight generation, communication,…?
Who knows what will have emerged?
Surely more than if I’d do nothing.
Which leads me to the question I’m asking myself today:
What would it feel like if I remove all external judgment from writing and see writing as the practice of exploring thoughts, ideas, feelings, insights, and becoming ever more accurate and impactful in representing them?
My current answer: I’d be focused much more on process and progress, not on competition. I’d feel how I’m getting better every day, not in relationship to others (as in competition), but in relationship to the purest expression of a certain art, skill, or action.
Sculpting away, day by day.
When I’m inspired, I write.
When I’m over the moon, I write.
When I’m frustrated, I write.
When I’m sad, I write.
When I’m angry, I write.
When I’m so overwhelmed I don’t want to do anything at all, I write.
Because when the tides of life get rough, a consistent practice is your life raft.
Writing, running, yoga, music, walking, gardening, knitting, dancing, singing, surfing…
You not only build trust in such habits and practices to achieve lofty goals but also – even more so – to fall back on when the going gets tough, and you need a beacon of stability to keep you afloat.
Once you’ve been writing daily for long enough, continuing to write is the easier option, more aligned with your habits and identity.
Just like for most people, it feels more natural to continue brushing their teeth every day than to skip a day.
But when you’re still building the writing habit, skipping the writing is the easier option.
Which means it shouldn’t be an option at all — until it has become an option you’re not interested in anymore.
