If only someone told you before
That no matter how loud the others shout
Nobody has it figured out
If only someone told you before
That the rules you use to govern your life
Aren’t set in stone?
If only someone told you before
That it’s totally okay
To find your own way
If only someone told you before…
If you write more consistently than you don’t write, you’re a writer.
If you run more consistently than you don’t run, you’re a runner.
And while every action you take is a vote for who you want to be, you don’t need 100% of the votes to build a habit or adopt an identity.
It’s okay to slip up, it’s okay to take a break, and it’s okay to make a mistake – as long as you cast enough votes in favor of your desired identity.
Don’t be a hardliner nor a totalitarian. Be disciplined without fearing the occasional laps.
Focus on maintaining the majority.
I don’t care much for indifference.
But dismissal… that’s something else.
The more I dismiss something, the more curious I get.
Does it contradict my values?
Am I afraid?
Or am I pushing away something I secretly want?
I don’t know what it is about dismissal, my friend.
But I do know that the stronger the feelings, the more interesting it gets.
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.
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.
When you lean in to the fear
The naysaying voices you hear
You’ll realize solutions are near
Within grasp
Maybe already here
And so is everything else you hold dear.
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.
