#355 How to know what you’re meant to write about
Before I write, I barely know what I want to write.
The more I write, the more I know what I’m meant to write.
Intention can be there before the practice. But meaning only shows up when YOU show up.
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#335 The real limiting thought
ByLukasThe limiting thought is not, “I can’t write.”’
It’s not, “I always give up.”
It’s not, “I don’t have time.”
The limiting thought is, “What if, despite all my own naysaying, I DO follow through? Can I take the fact that it’ll disrupt my entire narrative and self-image?”
#557 When progress seems slow
ByLukasWhen progress seems slow
Maybe even invisible
And still, every day you show
That you know
Where you’re going
That’s where you truly grow.
#338 When the worries stop
ByLukasOnly when you stop worrying about whether you’re a good writer do you have a shot at being a writer.
Only when you stop worrying about whether you’re a good friend, you have a shot at having true friendship.
Only when the worries stop, does the potential show up.
#282 You can write every day
ByLukasIf you truly believe you can write every day – not that it is generally possible to write every day, but that YOU can write every day – you would be doing it already.
So if you’re not, ask yourself:
Do you believe YOU can write every day?
If not, why not?
Is it physically impossible for you to write something every day? A page, a paragraph, a sentence… a word?
Deep down, you know the answer to that question.
And now we’ve established you can write every day; what other excuses come up?
That the work won’t be good?
That the words won’t capture what you want to say?
That you’ll disappoint others?
That you’ll disappoint yourself?
Put words to your fears, then ask yourself: what would happen if they all came true?
Would that stop you from writing? Or would it liberate you?
Would you maybe be just fine?
What would it be like to have overcome your fears and still be writing anyway?
Only one way to find out…
Write. Every. Day.
#45 The tragedy of the spoken word
ByLukasLanguage 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#253 Outsourcing happiness
ByLukasWhen you outsource your happiness, you’ll always be under stress.