Once you’ve been writing daily for long enough, continuing to write is the easier option, more aligned with your habits and identity.
Just like for most people, it feels more natural to continue brushing their teeth every day than to skip a day.
But when you’re still building the writing habit, skipping the writing is the easier option.
Which means it shouldn’t be an option at all — until it has become an option you’re not interested in anymore.
In the moment, I don’t feel like a yoga pose comes easy to me – until I look back to how it felt 6 months ago.
In the moment, I don’t really feel like particularly good writer – until I look back on how hard it was to write these daily insights a year ago.
You don’t need to see progress every single day to know that you’re getting better.
Because the things that truly matter often change so slowly that you don’t notice them… unless you take the time to reflect on them.
Changes too small to notice today become impossible to ignore when they stack up.
What would you like to become good at?
Why do you want to become good at this? Passion? Purpose? Impressing others?
Are you willing to spend a lot of time to become good at this?
Are you willing to give up other things to become good at this?
Are you making life harder for yourself by trying to become good at this?
Is that worth it?
…
The question that rules them all:
How easy was it to answer the questions above?
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 won’t believe I can publish a blog post every day – until I publish a blog post every day.
I won’t believe I can run a marathon – until I run a marathon.
I won’t believe I can speak a foreign language – until I speak a foreign language.
I won’t believe I can work through trauma – until I work through trauma.
You don’t have to believe something to start doing it.
You do something to start believing it.
Habits are hard to build. But there’s one that’s easy to get used to: starting a new project, then giving up.
Sometimes it’s better not to start at all, so you avoid reinforcing a quitter’s identity: I’ve given up so many times in the past, I’ll probaby give up again.
So how do you know which projects are worth starting?
Ask yourself the following questions:
If the answer to both questions is yes, you’re onto something.
If not, you’re setting yourself up for frustration.
I could decide that writing less than 1000 words a day would be a failure – and I would be correct.
I could decide that writing more than 50 words a day would be a failure – and I would be correct.
I could decide that not writing today would be failure – and I would be correct.
After all, for many things in life, you get to decide yourself what’s failure and what’s success.
In fact, my friend, just like me you may have already decided for yourself what’s failure and what’s success.
And just like me, you may need a reminder of that decision once in a while, so you can verify if it still serves you.
This is that reminder.
Which serves me well, because my decision was that writing you this short daily letter is exactly right.
See you tomorrow.
