#55 A list of indispensable writing tools
- Pen
- Paper
That’s it. Now write.
(Where else are you overcomplicating things to avoid getting started? More importantly: why are you avoiding getting started?)
That’s it. Now write.
(Where else are you overcomplicating things to avoid getting started? More importantly: why are you avoiding getting started?)
How likely is the scenario you’re worrying about?
And how impactful or life-threatening is that scenario?
Now, how much mental bandwidth is worrying about it taking up?
Are your worries proportionate to the actual danger?
Should you be worrying at all?
If not, could you stop right away?
Of course, you and I both know that’s not always how it works, my friend.
Because even if we know rationally that we shouldn’t worry, the worrier mind tends to scoff at answering rational questions.
Yet today, I had an insight: maybe those questions aren’t meant to dismiss the worrier mind at all but empower the sane mind, temporarily suppressed and overpowered?
Maybe they can provide enough encouragement to make the sane mind stand up for itself again and say, “Enough is enough.”
Maybe that way, the sane mind will put the worrier mind back in its place, reminding it of the only task where it truly shines: protect us from life-threatening risks.
Or maybe not. I don’t know, my friend. You’ve seen me: I’m just another human with good days and bad—productive days and lazy. Days of irrational fears and worry, and days of relaxing, dreaming, and visioning.
But this I do know: worrying too much has never improved my mood, and I doubt it has ever improved yours.
So if you’ve had an overactive worrier mind lately, trying won’t hurt.
Let me know how it goes.
The easiest path is to miss all days – you never get going in the first place so you don’t know what you’re missing.
The second easiest is to never miss a day – you’ll get where you want to go with little detours, even if you pay the cost of discipline.
The hardest (and most common) path is to miss a couple of days here and there – now you run the risk of getting lost.
We all miss a day sometimes – so we all get a little lost once in a while.
So what do we do?
We remind ourselves why we got started.
We remind ourselves where we’re going.
We remind ourselves that we’ve been lost before – and that we can always get back on track.
Start small.
Very small.
So small, it might feel silly at first.
For example, if you’ve committed to writing every day, don’t start by aiming to write a thousand words. Start with something you can absolutely, positively achieve.
Maybe that’s writing one sentence. Maybe it’s opening your notebook. Maybe it’s just holding a pen!
Your goal isn’t to produce fantastic prose, but simply to show up and write something.
After all, before it can be about the content, it must be about the consistency.
You won’t feel that you’re getting addicted to social media when you scroll through feeds on your smartphone every day. But you are.
You also won’t feel that you’re becoming a writer when you write just 1 minute a day. But you are.
You’re always on track to doing something or becoming someone. But rarely will it feel that way in the day to day.
Choose wisely.
Be fulfilled with what you do (and be happy with what you don’t do).
Be intentional with what you do.
Be consistent with what you do.
Because what you do will change you.
And when you change, you might just get everything you ever wanted.
And you might just become happy with what you have.
A neurotransmitter that once helped us evolve and motivated us to go out and explore the world now has us glued to screens and plates filled with sugary food.
Dopamine tells us not just to eat, but to eat more.
Not just to read a useful article, but click more headlines.
Swipe through more videos and photos.
Watch more episodes on Netflix.
Yet, when I interrupt the dopamine reward loop and resist the need for more, I’m pulled back into the now, and strangely enough, I actually see more. Hear more. Feel more.
Sometimes, to get more, you need to moderate.