Maybe you’ll succeed.
Or maybe you’re destined to fail at this, to prepare you for your next venture.
And if you’re destined to fail… is failing really a failure?
Or is it a success?
Who knows whether it’s true or not.
But it’s definitely reassuring.
Write, not for the words flowing on the page, but for how writing makes you feel.
Run, not for the personal records, but for how running makes you feel.
Help out friends, not for expecting them to return the favor, but for how helping out friends makes you feel.
Do the right thing, not for any outer reward, but an inner feeling of aligning with who you want to be.
There is no such thing as “abstaining from voting” in life.
Whether I decide to write today or not, I’m living my life and voting for an identity.
Whether I decide to do yoga today or not, I’m living a life and voting for an identity.
Whether I eat healthily today or not, I’m living my life and voting for an identity.
Whether I spend time with my family or not, I’m living my life and voting for an identity.
Voting is compulsory. Voting is inevitable.
You might as well do it intentionally.
You want to get the guitar piece exactly right but still trip up once in a while. How do you react?
You want to run a marathon but can’t even finish half a marathon yet. How do you react?
You want to explain how you feel but end up feeling misunderstood. How do you react?
Do you let frustration hold you back?
Or do you use the gap as leverage to change your actions and bridge the gap between your current and desired identity?
Am I doing this because of who I want to be? Or in spite of who I want to be?
Do I act a certain way automatically?
Who or what made me believe it’s a necessity?
Do I even know who I want to be?
Questions that lead to intentional living.
Write before you start finding reasons not to write.
Run before you start finding reasons not to run.
Love before you start finding reasons not to love.
Before you react to what you fear in the world around you, act on what you feel in the world inside you.
I can’t predict what will happen tomorrow – or even today.
But I do know that today, I resolve to write.
And tomorrow I resolve to write once again.
And that resolve has brought me to 439 consecutive days of writing.
439 days of writing, despite living in an unpredictable world.
439 days of realizing most obstacles are excuses.
439 days of proving that resolve can bring you pretty far.
