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.
I can’t do it the way I want it yet.
Which is exactly why I’m doing it.
When everyone starts using AI chatbots to write, but the insights inside your body and mind scream to be poured on the page – writing is not a choice.
When everyone dreads yet another practice session, but you know running the same route for the millionth time is all it takes to make you feel alive – running is not a choice.
When you’ve tripped over the same bar a thousand times, but you know the release of getting it right will energize you for days to come – playing the guitar is not a choice.
When your big vision has been rejected over and over again, but you know you will not rest until you’ve brought your life-changing ideas to the world – being an entrepreneur is not a choice.
When what drains others is your lifeblood, deep inside, you know life leaves you no other choice.
Because life is all about passion.
Passion is about a lifetime of practice.
A lifetime of practice becomes your identity.
And your identity is what makes you put your heart on the line.
Even if you don’t write today, you’ll still be okay.
And knowing that, now you know you’re not forced to write, now the pressure gone, you might as well write something anyway.
It’s easy to be non-violent when you’re in a flower garden
Josh Waitzkin – The art of learning
It’s easy to be kind to others when the world has always been kind to you.
It’s easy to say you want to be a writer when you never really put yourself out there to prove it.
To learn writing, I must confront the uncomfortable parts of writing – and learn not to respond by running away from it.
To learn non-violence, I must confront violence – and learn not to respond with violence in return.
To learn kindness, I must confront being hurt – and learn not to use that as an excuse to perpetuate the cycle of hurt.
To build trust in myself, I must stay true to my values under difficult conditions.
Progress is a silent play, but it’s the whispers of daily practice that leads to the roars of fulfilment.
Even your “bad days” are stepping stones to a brighter “good day”.
Slow and steady.
“Is this really important right now?” I ask myself, as another distraction passes through my head.
I imagine an old wise man, disturbed from his task at hand, looking up.
“No? Can you come back later then, at a more appropriate time? Thank you very much.”
Back to work he goes.
“Is this really a life-threatening event?” I ask myself, as another anxiety-inducing thought intrudes my mind.
I imagine the same old wise man, fending off a harassing distraction.
“No? Can you come back with a message more appropriate to the severity of the event? Thank you very much.”
On with life he goes.
If only it were that easy, my friend.
The distracted, anxious, worried mind tends to fight back. I’m taking the liberty to assume you’ve also noticed that at some point in your life.
Nevertheless, I believe we can, nay, we must fight back.
Not that I’m advocating suppression.
Excited, worried, sanguine, anxious, passionate, defeated: let them have their moment of attention – at the appropriate time.
Maybe it’s all about the art of making all the selves get along?
I imagine the old wise man, who has mastered that art.
I know I’m not that old wise man yet.
But I could be, if I make it a point to practice every day.
And so could you, if you make it a point to practice every day.
If that’s something that’s important to you, of course. That’s for you to decide, in your personal situation and in your personal life.
