#418 I don’t care what I write
I don’t care what I write.
I care that I write.
Because only once the daily act of writing isn’t in question anymore, can I start writing what matters.
I don’t care what I write.
I care that I write.
Because only once the daily act of writing isn’t in question anymore, can I start writing what matters.
Thinking hard doesn’t make the pressure of “finding something to write about” go away.
Writing does.
What you used to have was okay – and probably enough.
What you have today is okay – and probably enough.
What you’ll have tomorrow will be okay – and probably enough.
You can believe you didn’t always have everything you needed – but don’t be a prisoner of your past.
You can always believe you deserve more – but don’t be a prisoner of your dreams.
What you focus on right now, in the present moment, strongly affects your state. Focus on problems, you start worrying. Focus on a pleasant prospect, you start dreaming.
To manage state by directing focus, you must be intentional about the type of questions you ask to evaluate your experiences in life because whatever questions you ask yourself (and you DO ask yourself evaluating questions all the time, consciously or subconsciously), your brain is constantly coming up with answers for these questions.
The answers can be accurate or not; that doesn’t matter to your brain. It’ll justify and find answers, reasons, and connections for anything you ask… and through those answers, give meaning to anything that happens to you (and interpret it as painful or pleasurable).
Go slow.
Go steady.
Do whatever it takes.
But don’t wait to go until you feel ready.
Admiring (flawed) early work is easy when we already know the late work is going to be great.
Everyone forgives Picasso or Da Vinci for a lousy early sketch. In fact, people pay good money to hang one in their living room.
Maybe the early work, showing that even the greats are mere mortals on a journey towards excellence, is the most valuable?
And yet, it’s much harder to be gentle on a beginning artist for shipping mediocre creative work – not in the least for the beginning artist themselves – when their path to excellence hasn’t unfolded yet.
After all, something that one day will be “my early work” is still “my current best work” today.
The road to excellence is invisible from the trenches.
But that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.
Which makes me wonder…
When I know that through persistence and daily practice, one day, I’ll look back on today’s creation, smiling, thinking: “Oh how far I’ve come… How much I’ve learned… And some of this was actually pretty good…”
Can I admire my creative work less for what it looks, feels, or sounds like, and more for who I’m becoming through making it?
Can I do the same for the creative projects of others?
With that mindset… How much easier and forgiving would the daily creative journey be?
The more frequent and the less intrusive the habit, the easier it is to stick to.
Commit to writing for an hour once week? You’ll find a million reasons to procrastinate until the very last moment, on Sunday night, to write.
Commit to writing for 5 minutes once a day? The timeline is so short, there are no more excuses.
Make it doable. Make it frequent. And suddenly every habit is within reach.