#358 How to know you’re an aspiring (or former) writer
You can be an aspiring writer without writing.
You can be a former writer without writing.
But you can only call yourself a writer today when you have proof that you’re currently writing.
You can be an aspiring writer without writing.
You can be a former writer without writing.
But you can only call yourself a writer today when you have proof that you’re currently writing.
Nobody says you have to be a workaholic to be ambitious.
Because ambition means nothing more than having a strong desire to succeed.
You can desire to succeed in getting a promotion, or writing a bestselling book.
Or you can desire to succeed in working only part-time, and spend the rest of the time with your family.
You’re free to decide for yourself what to be ambitious about.
I can believe I’ve published the perfect insight – until I narrate the podcast version a couple of weeks later and suddenly notice subtle typos and, sometimes, logical flaws. The typos and flaws were always there – but did I make a mistake earlier?
I can believe I’ve nailed this yoga pose – until, during one session, I suddenly sense some tension in my neck I had never noticed before. The tension was always there – did I make a mistake earlier?
I can believe I’ve cooked the perfect dish – until one day, I notice that the sauce tastes even better with a little less salt. But, even before I noticed it, the improvement was always there – did I make a mistake earlier?
Maybe learning is not about errors but about gaining ever more subtle awareness.
Wisdom doesn’t come from experience. It comes from reflecting on experience.
— Adam Grant (@AdamMGrant) December 11, 2022
Between ages 25 and 75, the correlation between age and wisdom is zero.
Gaining insight and perspective is not about the number of years you've lived. It's about the number of lessons you've learned. pic.twitter.com/8wbKsCMkED
Memory isn’t an objective account of the past – and that’s not its purpose either.
Memory stores the lessons we extract from life experience. And to do so, it modifies, adds, subtracts, highlights, and hides.
Hot soup burns my tongue – next time, I’ll remember the pain, but not if it was tomato soup or chicken soup. And I’ll remember to wait a couple of minutes before having the first spoon.
Experience lived. Irrelevant info deleted. Lesson learned. Memory created.
My country gets invaded – and that causes so much pain, I won’t just deliver an objective account of what happened: I’ll make sure to tell everyone who the evil guys are too.
Experience lived. Story modified. Lesson learned. Memory created.
I eat the most delicious dessert at a Mexico City restaurant – that’s the memory I’m going to tell my friends about, not which glass of dessert wine I had with it.
Experience lived. Dessert highlighted. Lesson learned. Memory created.
You’re going to make memories anyway. Which lessons do you want to learn?
You write today. You run today. You do yoga today. You reach out to friends today.
Because one day, when the going gets tough, you’ll be happy you have a writing habit to express ideas and feelings.
You’ll be happy you’re in shape enough to run.
You’ll be happy to know your body well enough to move freely.
And you’ll be happy you have friends.
I’ve met many aspiring writers who weren’t writing regularly.
But I’ve never met a successful writer who wasn’t writing regularly.
Or yogis.
Or musicians.
Or athletes.
Through ups and downs
Up and down we go.
Every high, every low.
Every blow.
On we flow.
Because tomorrow, we star in another show.
That’s all I know.