#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?)
You don’t need to learn how to write, run, or learn a language yet if you haven’t learned to write daily, run daily, or learn a language daily.
No how-to program, but take-action-today program.
I guess all I really want to say today is:
There’s something you’re doing great at.
There always is.
Can you see it?
Trying to become good fast makes you impatient. And impatience may well stop you from ever becoming good in the first place.
Because the only way to become good is by understanding that in today’s practice session, you likely won’t be perfect anyway.
That you likely won’t write your most insightful words.
That you likely won’t run an all-time best.
That you’ll likely spend a large part of your yoga session stumbling and losing balance.
When you go into your practice session with that mindset…
Suddenly it makes sense to focus hard on getting that one sentence right.
Now it makes sense to focus on rhythmic breathing while running instead of pushing for a better time.
Now it makes sense to focus on a tiny part of your body during an entire yoga session to train your awareness instead of trying to chase poses because “they look professional.”
Even if there is not much time to “become good,” it still makes sense to assume there is time.
Because that gives you the freedom to focus on the small adjustments that prepare you for when the time comes, and you truly need to perform.
Since I’m always practicing anyway, I don’t have to be good at this today.
I can believe I’ve published the perfect insight – until I narrate the podcast version a couple of weeks later and suddenly notice subtle typos and, sometimes, logical flaws. The typos and flaws were always there – but did I make a mistake earlier?
I can believe I’ve nailed this yoga pose – until, during one session, I suddenly sense some tension in my neck I had never noticed before. The tension was always there – did I make a mistake earlier?
I can believe I’ve cooked the perfect dish – until one day, I notice that the sauce tastes even better with a little less salt. But, even before I noticed it, the improvement was always there – did I make a mistake earlier?
Maybe learning is not about errors but about gaining ever more subtle awareness.
When everything is urgent, how do we know what to do first?
One solution is adding more nuance:
What’s the most urgent?
What’s the most important?
Breathing is urgent.
A crying child is urgent.
A toilet visit can be urgent.
Sending that email out tonight right before bed instead of tomorrow, maybe not so much?
Here’s the important question:
If you’re going to prioritize the urgent matters anyway, why stress yourself out by calling everything urgent in the first place?
Making everything urgent devalues truly urgent matters.
Because when everything is urgent, nothing is urgent anymore.
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.