In the pursuit of our ambitions, we often create intricate plans, detailed routines, and exhaustive checklists.
But when these complexities start to feel more like obstacles than aids, it might be time to strip things back.
Where are you overcomplicating? Is it in the planning, the execution, or perhaps the goal itself?
Seeking the simplest way is not always the easiest. But more often than not, it’s the most effective.
“What am I meant to do?” I often wonder.
You may have the same question on your mind.
Or maybe you don’t think about it at all, my friend. And perhaps that’s the better choice.
The search for purpose may not be about finding that one grand mission.
Maybe it’s about creating tiny ripples of influence right where we are with what we have.
Maybe the right question is, “What am I meant to do today?”
That way, we make each day matter in ways big and small.
Because these are the days we live anyway.
It’s possible to be disciplined to a fault, destroying yourself in the process of doing great things.
But it’s more common to be scared to a fault, preventing you from doing great things in the first place.
A rough morning doesn’t mean a rough day – but it could.
A pleasant morning doesn’t mean a pleasant day – but it could.
Go slow, slow, slow
Until all the friction has dissolved
Life is back in flow
Then let go.
I can’t just say, “today, I’m going to be excellent at writing.”
Excellence is an outcome: a result of focused daily actions.
And one of the fastest ways to excellence is the pursuit of failure.
Not just making accidental mistakes but actively seeking them out.
Did I write nonsense today? Did I understand why I was writing nonsense? Have I learned something from writing that nonsense that will help me write something less nonsensical tomorrow?
The pursuit of failure is painful, especially for perfectionists like me.
But once ego, perfectionism, and the fear of failure make way for a commitment to the process, there’s much to learn from daily mistakes.
Ernest Hemingway allegedly stopped his writing sessions in the middle of a sentence so he knew how to start his next session. He stopped writing, even if he could do more.
Julia Cameron teaches to write precisely three pages of stream-of-consciousness journaling a day. Stop journaling, even if you could do more.
I’ve gotten better results studying foreign languages 20 minutes a day for several months than rushing into a new language and studying it for 3 hours a day, then crashing and burning. I stop myself from learning, even if I could do more.
Because burnout and overindulgence stifle progress, and in the long run, moderation leads to more.
