What would you still do even if nobody else would ever see or hear it?
What do you secretly love but you don’t WANT anyone else to see or hear – out of fear of being judged?
Both are good indicators of a passion – or an addiction.
If it’s a passion, and it’s good for you (aligned with your values and goals and fulfilling): pursue.
If it’s an addiction, and it’s bad for you: reconsider.
A memory is what we decide to remember from an experience – and what we decide to delete and forget.
Intuition is the instant hunch we get after we’ve repeatedly created memories from experiences; the moment we don’t need the conscious memory anymore.
A small (or unrepresentative) sample size leads to inaccurate intuition.
If I’m betrayed three times in my life and have created strong memories around that, my intuition whenever meeting anyone else may be that they’ll betray me too. Three bad experiences have shaped, and skewed, my relationship to billions of others.
How to develop accurate intuition?
The more memories we create, the bigger the “sample size” for our intuition to emerge from, and the smaller the weight of “outlier events” (like being betrayed).
The more deliberately we create these memories, the more deliberately we hone intuition.
Create more memories. And create them deliberately.
Sometimes I ask myself if you are asking yourself why I write you a short note every day, my friend.
Maybe I’m giving myself too much credit, and you’ve never asked yourself that question.
But I will answer it anyway, so let’s pretend you have.
Here’s the socially acceptable answer: for more than 200 days, I’ve been writing you a short note every day to remind you to make intelligent decisions about your life and who you want to be.
But as so often with us humans, the honest answer is more self-centered: I write you a short note every day to remind myself to make intelligent decisions about my life and who I want to be.
The fact that some insights are helpful to you is a nice bonus. But I would also write them if you have yet to read a single one of these insights.
Because to me, writing every day is a rallying cry for myself in an invisible battle that nobody might ever see – because it only exists in my head.
A battle against frustration, giving up, limiting beliefs, and a cage of social conditioning from which it’s hard to break free.
A battle to become who I’ve always wanted to be.
Yes, every note I write to you, my friend, is outward proof of a tiny inner victory, taking tiny steps towards more self-trust and fulfillment.
You may tell me I don’t have anything to prove to anyone, especially not myself.
And you may be right.
But I also know that we all have our battles to fight.
Battles about what we believe we deserve or not.
What we think we can do or not.
What we believe is possible for us or not.
What we desire.
Who we can be.
So while you might not be asking yourself why I write you something every day, I am asking myself which battles you are fighting.
I am looking for outward proof of your inner victories.
Whatever they are, when you shine a light on your invisible battles, I’ll be here to cheer you on.
It’s not about content, it’s about consistent content.
It’s not about running, it’s about repeated running.
It’s not about meditating, it’s about many moments of meditating.@
It’s about repeated rehearsal, until you finally get it.
The most important habit milestone is the center of gravity shift.
Initially, when you start building a new skill, your center of gravity lies with your old identity. You’re constantly fighting the pull of your old identity. And if you’d stop for even a day, you’ll get pulled right back into your old habits.
“If I don’t write today, what does that say about me? I’ve always given up in the past, and with this habit, it’ll be the same.”
The center of gravity shift happens when you’re about to miss a day and realize:
“It doesn’t matter, tomorrow I’ll start again anyway.”
When you’ve cast so many votes for your “identity of perseverance” you know that missing one day doesn’t equal giving up anymore.
When not writing for a day has become the exception, and when it happens, I get pulled right back into my writing habit.
Before the shift happens, when you’re still building self-trust, discipline is key.
But after your center of gravity has shifted to align with what you want to do anyway… you’re free.
When the future doesn’t scare you anymore, and you say, “It’s okay.”
When daily worries don’t make you go astray anymore, and you say, “It’s okay.”
When you put it all into perspective, and you realize, “Hey, I am genuinely okay.”
You know more peaceful days are finally on their way.
“I’m not negotiating with myself. I signed that contract with myself, I’m doing it.” – Kobe Bryant
— Kobe Highlights & Motivation (@kobehighlight) January 1, 2022
Mamba motivation to start the New Year (via Jay Shetty).
pic.twitter.com/CZMfnezIQx
I commit to taking a cold shower. To publish a daily blog post. To do a yoga class, because these actions contribute to my vision for who I want to be.
I commit, despite the knowledge that when the time has come, right before I turn the shower tap to cold, I won’t want to take a cold shower.
That right before I start writing an article, my mind will throw a million distractios at me.
That right before my yoga workout, my mind will start negotiating with itself, coming up with reasons why I’d better do something else.
“Today it’s cold outside, what if I start tomorrow?”
“I don’t feel like it today, maybe I’ll just write two articles tomorrow?”
“{{insert any excuse my mind makes up to avoid short-term discomfort}}
But now is not the time to negotiate.
Do I choose the long-term pain of regret over the short-term pain of discipline?
Do I choose to cultivate a procrastinator identity, or do I become a go-getter?
Who do I want (and choose) to be?
I can evaluate and adjust my plan afterwards.
But now is not the time to negotiate.
