One swallow doesn’t make a summer and one off-day doesn’t kill your discipline.
But keep in mind, your actions are votes, and your votes build habits.
My advice? Better maintain the majority for the habit you want to be here to stay.
I don’t know why I decide to write every day.
But I know writing feels right.
I know it feels like what the person I want to be would do.
Sometimes, that explanation is not enough.
But usually that’s all the “why” I need to write again.
All in on getting fluent in a foreign language?
That’s a 6-12 month game, at the minimum.
All in on learning an instrument?
Count on a multi-year (or multi-decade) game.
All-in on getting in shape?
That’s a life-long game.
This is not a poker game. You’re not trying to impress anyone. There are no opponents to deter. Not everything hinges on one big moment where you can win or lose it all.
You’re not only all in the moment you decide you’re all-in. You’re all in for the entire journey. That means: making your efforts, resources, and motivation last.
All in means preparing for the long game.
Choosing small daily habits over grand gestures.
Choosing consistency over completion.
Accepting that whatever you go all in on will inevitably change your identity.
Now you’re all in on life, and who you aspire to be.
Sometimes I ask myself if you are asking yourself why I write you a short note every day, my friend.
Maybe I’m giving myself too much credit, and you’ve never asked yourself that question.
But I will answer it anyway, so let’s pretend you have.
Here’s the socially acceptable answer: for more than 200 days, I’ve been writing you a short note every day to remind you to make intelligent decisions about your life and who you want to be.
But as so often with us humans, the honest answer is more self-centered: I write you a short note every day to remind myself to make intelligent decisions about my life and who I want to be.
The fact that some insights are helpful to you is a nice bonus. But I would also write them if you have yet to read a single one of these insights.
Because to me, writing every day is a rallying cry for myself in an invisible battle that nobody might ever see – because it only exists in my head.
A battle against frustration, giving up, limiting beliefs, and a cage of social conditioning from which it’s hard to break free.
A battle to become who I’ve always wanted to be.
Yes, every note I write to you, my friend, is outward proof of a tiny inner victory, taking tiny steps towards more self-trust and fulfillment.
You may tell me I don’t have anything to prove to anyone, especially not myself.
And you may be right.
But I also know that we all have our battles to fight.
Battles about what we believe we deserve or not.
What we think we can do or not.
What we believe is possible for us or not.
What we desire.
Who we can be.
So while you might not be asking yourself why I write you something every day, I am asking myself which battles you are fighting.
I am looking for outward proof of your inner victories.
Whatever they are, when you shine a light on your invisible battles, I’ll be here to cheer you on.
A new phone out of necessity – because the old one broke.
A new phone out of longing for the rush of something new.
A new business idea because changing circumstances have rendered the old business model unviable.
A new business idea because the previous one is progressing slower than I expected, and I’m getting bored.
There are many reasons to embrace novelty. And there are just as many reasons to fight it.
Yesterday, we got to do it all over again.
Today, we get to do it all over again.
And tomorrow, we get to do it all over again, too.
Maybe that routine is what gives us peace of mind in the uncontrollable chaos of life?
Maybe that routine isn’t a drag, but, in fact, the beauty of life?
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?
