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…
Not everyone learns the same way.
But one thing’s for sure: whether it’s practicing a foreign language, playing an instrument, or studying for an examyou’d learn more if you’d practice a little every day.
It’s fine to give up on something you started.
It’s a pity to not even start because you’re scared you’ll give up.
Don’t let the fear of giving up stop you from getting started.
And don’t let the fear of failing stop you from getting started either.
And the next day, it rains.
And the next day, the sun shines bright.
And every day, we show up, and we fight.
People can think you’re not good at writing, and you can still write – and love it.
You can think you’re not good at writing, and you can still write – and love it.
You can think you’ll never be good at writing, and you can still write – and love it.
Because whether you’re good at something or not is nowhere nearly as relevant as how fulfilled it makes you feel.
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.
“Is this really important right now?” I ask myself, as another distraction passes through my head.
I imagine an old wise man, disturbed from his task at hand, looking up.
“No? Can you come back later then, at a more appropriate time? Thank you very much.”
Back to work he goes.
“Is this really a life-threatening event?” I ask myself, as another anxiety-inducing thought intrudes my mind.
I imagine the same old wise man, fending off a harassing distraction.
“No? Can you come back with a message more appropriate to the severity of the event? Thank you very much.”
On with life he goes.
If only it were that easy, my friend.
The distracted, anxious, worried mind tends to fight back. I’m taking the liberty to assume you’ve also noticed that at some point in your life.
Nevertheless, I believe we can, nay, we must fight back.
Not that I’m advocating suppression.
Excited, worried, sanguine, anxious, passionate, defeated: let them have their moment of attention – at the appropriate time.
Maybe it’s all about the art of making all the selves get along?
I imagine the old wise man, who has mastered that art.
I know I’m not that old wise man yet.
But I could be, if I make it a point to practice every day.
And so could you, if you make it a point to practice every day.
If that’s something that’s important to you, of course. That’s for you to decide, in your personal situation and in your personal life.
