Stay here
Don’t run
What do you hear?
Where do you try to steer clear of the fear?
Stay here
Don’t run
Feel the fear
Don’t run
Confront the fear
Don’t run
Stay here
Confront the fear
Until it becomes clear
That everything you hold dear
Is so, so near
If you’d just peer
Behind the fear
Wanting to improve certain areas in your life is powerful.
But that improvement gap comes with a pressure trap.
Because if you believe you’re in control of your actions, the moments you accidentally fall back into old patterns become extra frustrating.
When your self-worth becomes attached to your behavior, every action becomes a judgment of character.
And so the pressure mounts.
Missing one workout means you’re not worthy of running a marathon.
Missing one day of writing means you’ll never be a writer.
Making one communication mistake, making someone angry, means you’re a terrible person.
—
To make that pressure bearable, build self-trust (for example, through Tiny Trust Builders).
Trust that you can run a marathon, even if you miss a workout.
Trust that you can be a writer, even if you miss one day of writing.
Trust that you can be a good person, even if you’ve made mistakes or upset some people.
—
Notice the improvement gap between where you are and where you want to go.
Let the majority of your actions be a vote for the person you want to be.
Focus on elastic discipline, not hardliner habits.
Do all that, and you’ll feel more fulfilled and free.
Day 20 of my daily publishing experiment. What I’ve learned (or remembered) so far:
In short, a pattern I’ve observed many time in the past years is playing out again:
When I start defying my own excuses by taking action, no matter how small, my self-trust grows, my self-image shifts, and I become more of the person I want to be.
Which begs the question:
Where else am I frustrated, holding on to a static identity of the past that I could prove wrong by taking action?
I may say I am bored – but what do I feel?
I may say I am angry – but what do I feel?
I may say I am in love – but what do I feel?
What does my body say?
Can I examine my feelings a different way?
Can I escape the tragedy of the spoken word?
Can I resist unconscious categorization and re-learn to listen to what’s behind the language?
I’ve tirelessly written at least 300 journal entries on the same topic in the belief that in the 301st, I’ll strike gold and find the exact words I’m looking for.
And it took me a while to accept that that’s an illusion.
Maybe every attempt is really just the same struggle to find the right words for ideas, thoughts, insights that were never meant to be captured into words in the first place?
And yet I bend, I twist, I turn, I squirm,
I write, re-write
and never am I satisfied.I get closer, or so I think
And then the next day, I jump back in
and instantly sink.I need answers…
Even though deep down I know,
the only certainty is that I’ll never get them.Yet, I have to try.
Because while every day of writing is a struggle, the true value lies in the daily struggle of writing.
Although it might look like I’m not making progress, writing and creativity is just not a linear process.
In reality, as long as a I write every day, I’m focusing my mind on what I’m trying to say. I’m sculpting away, and someway, somehow the essence will emerge from my 300 journal entries and reveal itself.
How? I don’t know.
When? I don’t know.
Probably not while I’m writing (read why here)… even though the writing is what makes it possible.
Anyway.
Now I know day 1, 11, 50, 299, 300, 301, 3001 are all equally important…
I’m finally ready to accept the struggle
and write in peace.
I can’t predict what will happen tomorrow – or even today.
But I do know that today, I resolve to write.
And tomorrow I resolve to write once again.
And that resolve has brought me to 439 consecutive days of writing.
439 days of writing, despite living in an unpredictable world.
439 days of realizing most obstacles are excuses.
439 days of proving that resolve can bring you pretty far.
Am I doing this because of who I want to be? Or in spite of who I want to be?
Do I act a certain way automatically?
Who or what made me believe it’s a necessity?
Do I even know who I want to be?
Questions that lead to intentional living.
