#327 Not everyone learns the same way
Not everyone learns the same way.
But one thing’s for sure: whether it’s practicing a foreign language, playing an instrument, or studying for an examyou’d learn more if you’d practice a little every day.
Not everyone learns the same way.
But one thing’s for sure: whether it’s practicing a foreign language, playing an instrument, or studying for an examyou’d learn more if you’d practice a little every day.
Talking about “good and bad ideas” implies a ranking. Good, compared to what? Bad, compared to what?
The truth is that most ideas you produce will be average – because there is no other way.
Not all ideas can be your best idea – and if they are, they will soon be replaced by a better idea. Your previous best idea has now become average.
Not all ideas can be your worst idea either. And if they are, they will soon be replaced by an even worse idea. Your worst idea has now become average.
This dynamic matters. Because if you produce an idea a day, compared to someone producing one idea a month, your chances of replacing your current best idea with something better are much higher.
You’ll also likely replace your current worst idea with something even worse – and that’s fine. You’re increasing amplitude in both directions. It’s all part of the practice.
The more ideas you have, the bigger your sample size. The more elaborate the ranking. The better the good ideas. The worse the bad ideas.
All this to say: bad, average, and good ideas ALL stack the odds of striking gold in your favor. What matters is that you show up and generate ideas.
Nobody says you should take time every day to disconnect from the world and listen to your stream of consciousness.
But let’s say you would.
What do you hear?
Desires? Fear?
A blurry memory, now suddenly clear?
A cry for help to which you’ve turned a deaf ear?
That fierce inner voice just wants you to be, listen, persevere,
and tell it
You’re safe. I hear you. I’m here.
When you make space to listen to yourself and let solitude soothe you, fear melts away and you might just find something that makes you want to put your heart on the line.
You write every day so you’re ready on the day you are forced to write.
You run every day so you’re ready on the day you are forced to run.
You show up when you have a choice, so you’re ready when you don’t have a choice anymore.
Because that’s when your character shows.
Your story has drama. Suspense.
New seasons. Old friends.
But your story never stops.
It will be remembered.
Which means there’s no beginning. And no end.
First I feel.
Then I learn to categorize those feelings with words – until at some point, I don’t feel sensations anymore. I feel words.
I say I’m angry – but what does being angry feel like again?
I say I’m happy – but which sensations rush through my body?
I say I’m sad – but does sadness always feel the same?
With sensations comes nuance.
“You already know what I’m going to say,” the mentor I don’t have tells me.
It’s true.
I don’t need anyone to tell me what to do.
Neither do you.
All you need is someone to remind you to do what you already know.
If you had constant presence of mind, you could remind yourself.
But if you’re anything like me, your clarity gets lost in day-to-day desires, worries, and chores.
And that’s fine.
Because that’s what you’re here for, no?
Not to learn what your life should look like but to receive a reminder to live it daily?