#477 Maybe it’s already enough
You could always do more of something.
But maybe you don’t have to.
Maybe what you’re doing is already enough.
Maybe you’re already enough.
And everything else is extra.
You could always do more of something.
But maybe you don’t have to.
Maybe what you’re doing is already enough.
Maybe you’re already enough.
And everything else is extra.
When it comes to habits, our actions in the present make future present moments more (or less) likely.
Do I journal today? That’s a vote for my journaling identity – which increases the likelihood of another journaling moment tomorrow. Predictive power.
Do I check Instagram today? That’s a vote for my Instagram-browsing identity – which increases the likelihood of another Instagram moment tomorrow. Predictive power.
Have I journaled 700 days in a row? I can say quite confidently I’ll journal again tomorrow. Massive predictive power.
So how do change the future?
Weaken the predictive power of one habit – stop taking the actions you want to change.
Strengthen the predictive power of a new habit – intentionally start taking different actions, and let every present moment be a vote for that new habit (and new identity).
The process is challenging and slow.
You’ll need patience.
Willpower to resist the pull of habits that have already accumulated tremendous predictive power.
You’ll need presence of mind and perseverance to choose new actions because you know they’re important to you.
It’s challenging. Slow. And worth it.
Because this is how you make the future yours.
Cut yourself some slack on a hard day.
Relax, take a break.
Because come what may,
In the long run, you’re strong enough to keep going anyway.
Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here today.
Make your habits easy to stick to by making them tiny.
Make your habits tiny to make it easy to build self-trust.
Make your habits part of your identity, so that you’re not scared to answer the following question anymore:
Did you do it or not?
Performance gap: the frustrating gap between how you know something should be done in an ideal world and how you currently do it.
One implication of the performance gap: you don’t have to master this skill today.
Another implication, maybe even more important: your idea of how something “should be done” is probably wrong anyway.
Because as you practice and gain mastery, you’ll also gain progressive insight: a more nuanced intellectual understanding of the skill you’re practicing.
What I thought was a “good” yoga session six months ago, I now see as a session full of misalignment and cramped muscles.
What I thought of as a solid piece of writing six months ago, I now see as an argument full of holes and points of improvement.
Sometimes, progressive insight is just about more nuances.
Sometimes, progressive insight shows that your initial intellectual understanding completely missed the mark.
There’s only one way to find out: practice: Sculpt away, day by day.
In writing every day, I find out what I want to say.
And in writing every day, I learn to say it my way.
I will never go astray as long as I stay on the field of play.
You can’t start taking action after finding your purpose.
You find your purpose by taking action.
Neither can you wait to start creating until you’ve found your unique voice.
Because your unique voice emerges from the daily act of creating.
Language helps us describe the world we perceive. Yet in doing so, it closes our eyes, our ears, our touch, and our heart to the parts of the world we don’t have words for.
Every language is a lens on a felt reality within and around us – both clarifying and categorizing the world, and limiting it by the words it has available.
Learning more languages gives you new lenses – and a richer sense of reality.
But just like the structure of our ears limit the sounds we can hear, and the structure of our eyes limit colors we can see, the structure of any language somehow limits our felt experience of the world.
How do we re-access memories, emotions, hidden away in a long-forgotten language?
How do we re-learn to listen to the voices of the wordless world speaking to our animal self… the voices that once upon a time, before verbal language emerged, were all we had?
there’s an eternal song
drowned out by the confines of my mother tongue
a wordless melody that once made sense
until our brain started blurring it with a lens
narrowing it down
neglecting its nuances through verbs and nounswith all its might language wants us to abide
Lukas Van Vyve
but the wordless world it tries to hide
will forever be inside