If you know the journey of writing a book is filled with days where you won’t feel like writing, days where you won’t feel like writing aren’t a distraction – they’re a sign you’re on the right path.
After all, if you know setbacks are what makes your journey your journey, how could your journey be disturbed by setbacks?
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 going gets tough
When I bite the dust
Trust I must
Trust I must
That the purpose I feel inside
The calling from which I can no longer hide
Is a reliable guide
Trust I must
That the vision I hold dear
Is enough to conquer my fear
and persevere
Trust I must
That the words I say
The actions I take every day
Won’t lead me astray
Trust I must
That I am not alone
And that this calling
Will bring me home
Trust I must
Every day
That this is the path
This is my way
If I don’t write the post I intended to write, I actively avoid the desired result of my writing.
If I don’t do the workout I intended to do, I actively avoid the desired result of my workout (being in better shape, running a new PR,…)
If I don’t have the difficult conversation I intended to have, I actively avoid the desired result of that conversation.
Inaction is not the lack of action.
Inaction is taking active action to avoid working towards the result you desire.
The real question, then, is:
Why do I actively avoid working toward a desired result?
Am I worried that even if I write daily, I’ll never become a skilled writer?
Am I worried I won’t enjoy writing anymore if I ever get recognition?
Am I worried that writing every day will turn me into a skilled writer, but being a professional writer won’t be fulfilling?
P.S. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I only have a limited repertoire of examples in this newsletter, my friend
I trust you to apply the insight to your situation.
And maybe, when you’re pondering the question above, you’ll come to the same conclusion as me:
That more often than not, I’m more interested in the comfort of “wanting” something I don’t have than in “taking action to get something.”
When you write every day, you believe you can write every day.
When you don’t write every day, you believe you can’t every day.
And so it goes for running, working out, eating healthy, playing the guitar, or anything else you’re frustrated or satisfied with.
Beliefs follow actions.
Actions confirm beliefs.
So follow your actions to uncover your beliefs.
Then change your actions to change your beliefs.
People can think you’re not good at writing, and you can still write – and love it.
You can think you’re not good at writing, and you can still write – and love it.
You can think you’ll never be good at writing, and you can still write – and love it.
Because whether you’re good at something or not is nowhere nearly as relevant as how fulfilled it makes you feel.
The meaning of your life is not in the goals you crave.
It’s not in the results you chase.
Nor is it in the habits you create.
The meaning is in what you do in this very moment.
And the next moment.
And the one after that.
The meaning is in your collection of actions. In your collection of decisions. In your collection of present moments. Wherever they take you.
