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.
when the cracks in my faux finish
finally appear
my mind screams out
you’re coming too nearyet i resist the need to hide
lean in to the fear
let the cracks grow wide
because after all these years
slowly steadily submerged under layers of snow
frozen frightened i don’t know where else to goi feel i’m sliding back into my head
but you don’t let me
instead
you keep me here
make even more light appear
look at the fear
until the icy flawed frozen faux finish finally fully melts away
into a trembling torrent of tearsand through the sobs
subtle shining light teardrops
mix mingle mend my mind
my heart my soul a warmth so kindyou guide my gaze and through the tears
in my eyes a rainbow appears
eclipsing the fear
making it clear
that when I dare to feel complete
allow your heart and mine to meeti finally remember
that I’m enough
i’ve always beenand at last
Lukas Van Vyve
i can be seen
The 1 minute you decide not to spend on writing.
The one sentence you decide not to read in the language you’re learning.
The one message you don’t send to a friend or relative.
The one Tiny Trust Builder that got away.
Luckily, tomorrow is a new day?
Not believing in something doesn’t make it impossible.
Rejecting something doesn’t make it impossible.
Not having experienced something doesn’t make it impossible.
You don’t know what’s possible.
You don’t know what’s possible for you.
And the sooner you accept that, the more will suddenly be possible.
Only when it has become normal to write every day can you truly think about what you want to say.
Only when it has become normal to run every day can you truly think about the record time you want to run.
Only when it has become normal to practice yoga every day can you truly think about what it means to perform a pose.
First, you normalize the habit. Then you get the freedom to hone the skill.
How likely is the scenario you’re worrying about?
And how impactful or life-threatening is that scenario?
Now, how much mental bandwidth is worrying about it taking up?
Are your worries proportionate to the actual danger?
Should you be worrying at all?
If not, could you stop right away?
Of course, you and I both know that’s not always how it works, my friend.
Because even if we know rationally that we shouldn’t worry, the worrier mind tends to scoff at answering rational questions.
Yet today, I had an insight: maybe those questions aren’t meant to dismiss the worrier mind at all but empower the sane mind, temporarily suppressed and overpowered?
Maybe they can provide enough encouragement to make the sane mind stand up for itself again and say, “Enough is enough.”
Maybe that way, the sane mind will put the worrier mind back in its place, reminding it of the only task where it truly shines: protect us from life-threatening risks.
Or maybe not. I don’t know, my friend. You’ve seen me: I’m just another human with good days and bad—productive days and lazy. Days of irrational fears and worry, and days of relaxing, dreaming, and visioning.
But this I do know: worrying too much has never improved my mood, and I doubt it has ever improved yours.
So if you’ve had an overactive worrier mind lately, trying won’t hurt.
Let me know how it goes.
Knowledge transfer always implies time collapse. Because learning an insight from someone else usually takes less long than figuring it out yourself.
Take books. The writer usually spent considerable time researching and distilling the topic and coming to good insights (time I might not be able to dedicate).
Thanks to that writer, I can now consume that knowledge in, say 6-12 hours of reading the book. A considerable time collapse…
But when does time collapse go to far?
Can I read a 1-page summary of that book and truly say I grasp the topic?
When your brain gets space to breathe, knowledge grows and nuance shows. It needs time and repeated exposure to absorb information, make connections, and discover new insights.
So a one-page summary isn’t necessarily too shallow… On the contrary: it collapses time so much that information becomes very dense.
What with the evolution towards short-form online content? The primary purpose of TikTok videos and Instagram reels might be to entertain, but the trend is clear and spills over into education, our attention span, and knowledge transfer: shorter, more shallow, yet more dense.
Too little time collapse and we can’t make progress.
Too much time collapse and knowledge collapses with it.
