#376 The decision has already been made

656 days ago, I started writing 3 pages of stream-of-consciousness journaling a day.

That’s an inner dialogue of 1968 pages poured into piles of journals now safely stuffed away.

30 days ago, some of those thoughts started making their way to my blog.

I promised myself that if I made it to 30 daily posts in a row, I would start sharing them.

Today is the day, so here goes.

I’m sharing daily observations about language, language learning, memory, creativity, habits, discipline, the art of learning, tools for thought.

Lessons I’ve learned.
Insights I’ve earned.

Words I’ve heard.
Memories spurred.

Books I’ve read.
Poems flowing out of my heart and head.

No rules, no fixed topic, no niche, no marketing strategy.
Nothing but whatever’s on my mind.

I’ve learned a lot so far, but the most important insight: there’s power in publishing imperfect work.

Because if I allow myself to create something imperfect every day, I’m certain that someday the sum of all these imperfect creations will be something I’m proud of.

It’s liberating.

Maybe there’s liberating power in reading someone else’s imperfect work too.

I can’t wait to find out together with you.

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The other day you asked about my favorite words.

But what I really want to write about is my favorite questions.

Because as much as words can spark imagination, questions are what steer the mind – to good places or bad.

Consider this one:

“Why do I always give up when I start a new habit?“

This presupposes that I always give up and will ask my brain to come up with reasons (and excuses) to justify and perpetuate that behavior.

• Why do I always get frustrated when something doesn’t go my way?
• Why do I always wait until the last minute to start on a project, so I get stressed and barely meet the deadline?
• Why do I always give up when I start writing and publishing daily?

And off I go, finding excuses for behavior, thus perpetuation.

“Look at all the reasons I found for behaving this way. I may not like it, but I guess this is who I am.”

Why would you send your mind there… If you could also ask yourself a question like:

“What would it feel like if I were already writing and publishing every day?”

How would I feel about myself…

How would I look at myself?

What would I say, what would I create… How would I act?

Which obstacles would I have conquered?

Which excuses would have become irrelevant, making me shake my head, saying to myself, “How did I ever let that stop me?”

And just like that, with my imagination set free

internal resistance melting away

off I go

finally becoming who I’ve always wanted to be.

P.S: If you MUST ask the “Why do I always…” questions, at least use them to justify and perpetuate positive behavior.

Why do I always wake up and immediately write three pages stream of consciousness?

• Because it helps me slow down.
• Because it makes me aware of negative (and positive thought patterns).
• Because I feel calm after writing them.
• Because ever since I started, more creative, productive, and disciplined
• Because this is who I am now. And I love this version of me much more than the one from before I started writing every day.

P.P.S.: Alright then, one more question to think (or journal) about:

Where am I perpetuating a situation or habit I say I don’t want but I secretly cling to because it feels comfortable and has become part of my identity?

If writing and creating every day were as vital to my survival as drinking water, ingesting food, and bonding… What would life look like?

Biologically, all behavior is driven by pain, pleasure, and the triggers and habits that come from repeated reaction to those stimuli.

So I eat because I want to escape the pain of hunger – or heartbreak, sadness, and frustration.

I connect with others because I’m neurologically hardwired to feel pleasure when bonding… and pain and deprivation when I’m abandoned.

Similarly, I write because I want to escape the frustration of not being able to put into words an insight.

I also write because I enjoy the rush resulting from finding the words that convey what I want to say.

I write because I love the tingling in my back and neck when I combine those words into sentences with just the right rhythm, just the right cadence capturing the meaning, context, emotion of what I want to say…

I write because writing wrests the essence from the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions racing through my mind and body.

I write because when when I write, I feel that at last, I can make sense of life.

And the more meaning I find, the more likely I am to write.