What am I scared of right now?
What are the chances that that scenario will come true?
What would happen if that scenario came true?
And what would happen then?
And then?
And then?
Is it really that bad?
Do I have the resources to deal with it?
Is this truly a catastrophe, or will I be fine either way?
Keep asking*, “What would happen then?”.* Look past the initial fears and challenges. And more often than not, you’ll realize that this too shall pass.
Most people don’t see why you’re taking time out of your busy day to sit down and write until the book you were working on every day lies in front of them.
They don’t see why you run every day and eat clean until you set a personal best at the next marathon.
They don’t see the new product you’re working on until it’s developed so far that it helps them achieve their goals.
You’re the only one who sees the method to your madness.
And that’s fine.
Because you probably don’t see the method to their madness either.
Question: Do you know how old I’ll be by the time I learn to play the piano?
Answer: The same age you will be if you don’t.
Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way
Some skills take years of practice before I’m any good at them. But I’m living those years anyway. And while society and systemic pressure might push me down a certain path, I still have a say in how I spend every day.
Whether I publish a blog post today or not, I’ll go to bed tonight and the sun will still come up tomorrow.
Whether I write every day in the coming 10 years or not, in 10 years I’ll still turn 40.
The only difference: will I feel that my actions were aligned with who I want to be? Or will I feel regret instead?
Some aspirations are worth the time you’re living anyway.
When I’m inspired, I write.
When I’m over the moon, I write.
When I’m frustrated, I write.
When I’m sad, I write.
When I’m angry, I write.
When I’m so overwhelmed I don’t want to do anything at all, I write.
Because when the tides of life get rough, a consistent practice is your life raft.
Writing, running, yoga, music, walking, gardening, knitting, dancing, singing, surfing…
You not only build trust in such habits and practices to achieve lofty goals but also – even more so – to fall back on when the going gets tough, and you need a beacon of stability to keep you afloat.
You don’t have to feel certain to start taking action.
You take action to start feeling certain.
You don’t need to be calm to do yoga.
You do yoga to become calm.
You don’t need to have a quiet mind to meditate.
You meditate to cultivate a quiet mind.
You don’t have to speak Spanish fluently to have a conversation in Spanish.
You have a conversation in Spanish to learn to speak Spanish fluently.
You don’t need to know how to love to start loving someone.
You start loving someone to learn how to love.
And while this chain of causality sounds logical, sometimes the logical things are the hardest to remember.
You’re not embarking on a new journey, you’re already on the journey.
And while embarking on the journey wasn’t your choice.
Today, you have a say.
Not about everything.
But about enough to add some more intention and direction.
Tiny Trust Builders.
There’s nothing wrong with striving for excellence when you’re passionate about something.
But being passionate doesn’t come with an obligation to be – or even try to become – good.
It’s fine to write for the sake of writing, not to write a bestseller novel.
Paint for the sake of painting, not to be the next Picasso.
Run for the sake of running, not to finish a marathon.
I don’t need to be good at this today.
And some things I just never need to be good at.
You always have a choice.
