Good habits need to be practiced – and so does taking time off.
Because the more you practice rebounding back to good habits after taking time off, the easier it becomes to take time off without guilt and fear.
And the more you can take time off without guilt fear, the easier it becomes to enjoy your life.
So practice the habits. Practice the time off. Practice the rebounds. It’s all part of habit-building.
Creativity isn’t about inventing new concepts, thoughts, pieces of art or machines out of thin air.
It’s not even making new connections between unrelated concepts.
Creativity is exposing connections that have always been there but nobody has noticed before.
Again: the connections have always been there. The hard part is noticing them.
That requires presence. Slowing down. Taking a step back. Asking “Where have I seen this before?”. Trusting your mind for doing what it does best: recognizing patterns. Paying attention. Sometimes, paying no attention at all and letting the breakout principle work its magic.
This view of creativity can set you free from a lifetime of frustration
because once life becomes one big exploration
where every detour, every diversion, every event
no matter how unimportant or seemingly insignificant
holds the promise of a new insight
a new breakthrough, a connection to stumble upon…And once the crushing pressure – invent something you must
disappears, turns to dust
replaced by curiosity and wanderlust
then you can slow down, enjoy the present moment, and trust
that everything you ever wanted to know, feel, see, hear
every insight or desire you hold dear
has always been here
hidden in plain view, underneath the world’s veneer.
Daily blog post number 70.
Sometimes I’m frustrated I get less “work” done than before I started publishing daily posts.
Until I remind myself: who do I want to be?
A writer. Who writes. And publishes his writing. Every single day.
Then I realize: it’s not just who I want to be anymore, but who I choose to be. Every single day.
This is my path.
We all live in a maze of mistranslations and misunderstandings about who we think you are and who others think we are.
Now, by lack of a way to know who we truly are, misunderstandings can be comforting, my friend; there’s no doubt about that.
But when you get so lost in the maze that it causes suffering, it might be time to start mending the misunderstandings.
Could it be that mending is nothing more than making another mistranslation about who we are that makes us happier?
After all, I can perceive myself as a struggling writer or a skilled wordsmith – both perspectives hold their truths.
It’s the power of our misunderstandings that molds our reality.
You are not the naysayer.
You are not the euphoric idealist.
You are not your thoughts.
You just are.
The path toward self-awareness isn’t always pleasant.
Take yesterday, when I realized that in many cases, I’m more interested in the comfort of “wanting” something I don’t have than in “taking action to get something.”
That unappealing realization triggered a cascade of even more unappealing questions.
Would I rather mess around with small blog posts instead of becoming a skilled writer crafting coherent arguments?
Would I rather learn about a million different strategies to grow a newsletter instead of actually spreading the word and getting more people to read my newsletter?
Would I rather learn how to learn a language than actually learn a new language?
Is the frustration of unrealized potential also a huge source of comfort in my life?
I’m not sure if I should be happy with that realization.
Maybe realizations aren’t even supposed to make me happy.
But even if they were, it doesn’t matter.
Because look: here I am, writing another insight about it.
Another Tiny Trust Builder, proving that every day, I am one step closer to renouncing my citizenship of the United States of “If I wanted, I could.”
Another reminder to myself and you, my friend, one I’ll repeat until the bitter end: actions overrule thoughts.
Before I write, I barely know what I want to write.
The more I write, the more I know what I’m meant to write.
Intention can be there before the practice. But meaning only shows up when YOU show up.
