Your best writing can only happen when you’re writing.
Your running PR can only happen when you’re running.
And your most cherished moments with friends can only happen when you’re with your friends.
You can try to time life.
But the only foolproof way to live your best moments do is by showing up in the moment.
When the going gets tough
When I bite the dust
Trust I must
Trust I must
That the purpose I feel inside
The calling from which I can no longer hide
Is a reliable guide
Trust I must
That the vision I hold dear
Is enough to conquer my fear
and persevere
Trust I must
That the words I say
The actions I take every day
Won’t lead me astray
Trust I must
That I am not alone
And that this calling
Will bring me home
Trust I must
Every day
That this is the path
This is my way
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.
What am I scared of right now?
What are the chances that that scenario will come true?
What would happen if that scenario came true?
And what would happen then?
And then?
And then?
Is it really that bad?
Do I have the resources to deal with it?
Is this truly a catastrophe, or will I be fine either way?
Keep asking*, “What would happen then?”.* Look past the initial fears and challenges. And more often than not, you’ll realize that this too shall pass.
What about second-hand memories? Accounts of past events we didn’t experience ourselves, wars, volcano eruptions, scientific discoveries,…
For knowledge to accumulate, to stand on the shoulders of giants, we need to transmit such lessons too. Not just as data or accounts of the past – also as memories.
But transmitting second-hand memories require trust.
Can we rely on the interpretation of others?
Who do we allow to control the narrative?
Parents? Elders? Teachers? Governments and politicians?
YouTubers? Influencers? Bloggers? Twitter gurus?
AI models and chatbots?
Objective data doesn’t exist. Objective memories don’t exist either. So if we can’t trust second-hand memories anymore, collective memory and our whole learning model collapses.
If writing and creating every day were as vital to my survival as drinking water, ingesting food, and bonding… What would life look like?
Biologically, all behavior is driven by pain, pleasure, and the triggers and habits that come from repeated reaction to those stimuli.
So I eat because I want to escape the pain of hunger – or heartbreak, sadness, and frustration.
I connect with others because I’m neurologically hardwired to feel pleasure when bonding… and pain and deprivation when I’m abandoned.
Similarly, I write because I want to escape the frustration of not being able to put into words an insight.
I also write because I enjoy the rush resulting from finding the words that convey what I want to say.
I write because I love the tingling in my back and neck when I combine those words into sentences with just the right rhythm, just the right cadence capturing the meaning, context, emotion of what I want to say…
I write because writing wrests the essence from the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions racing through my mind and body.
I write because when when I write, I feel that at last, I can make sense of life.
And the more meaning I find, the more likely I am to write.
You may win, lose, fly high, fall low
You may have it easy or hard
But come what may
There is no way you won’t grow.
