#364 The only way to innovate
Experience can make you better at performing an activity but also blind you from what you could do differently (and better).
Sometimes, the only way to innovate, see, and be free, is to take your experience goggles off.
Experience can make you better at performing an activity but also blind you from what you could do differently (and better).
Sometimes, the only way to innovate, see, and be free, is to take your experience goggles off.
First I envision a future me. Who do I want to be?
Then every single day, every single moment, I choose to take actions that turn me into that person I want to be.
If I don’t consciously choose my actions in the present moment that contribute to my vision, and I’m led by old unconscious patterns, beliefs, and habits instead, my visions will remain imaginary.
And if I never take the time to envision who I want to be, how do I know which actions to choose?
First envision what you want. Then choose to make it happen.
If you know what you want to say but you can’t find the words yet, write without thinking about the words.
Write while thinking about the feeling.
Allow yourself to feel it first.
Feel it fully, then write the words.
Feel it fully, let stream-of-consciousness words come out..
Feel it fully, then start sculpting away.
Keep feeling it, and keep writing about it. Every day. Because sooner or later, feeling the words words will reveal what you want to say.
Not all tasks and activities we must do feel fulfilling or rewarding. There’s no way out of busy work.
But we can avoid prioritizing and attracting it to the expense of work that matters.
Enter the hour of misery.
One hour of busy work and chores a day.
60 minutes. Not more. But also not less.
If, after 60 minutes of misery, you feel like you should do much more, it’s time to realign priorities.
Delegate.
OR come to terms with the fact that you’ll never finish the pile of busy work tasks – then carry on with the important stuff anyway.
After all, tomorrow’s another day.
Before I learned not to listen
I would stand
seemingly still
but secretly swaying
swallowed up by a willow tree
and its play with the windBefore I learned not to listen
I would hold my head against the rind
reach
reconnect with an old friend
the way it has always felt best
cheek pressed to chestBefore I learned not to listen
a breeze in the leaves
rustling ruminating
would sound like raindrops in my ears
making my eyes answer
with a torrent of tearsBefore I learned not to listen
a rolling thunder
thumping like a beating heart
would rumble from my cheek to my ear
replacing my fear
with a memory I used to held dear
we were never really apartBefore I learned not to listen
before the lust for language
reduced what I could see
and sense within
I would allow the whispers of the wordless world
speak to me like kinBefore I learned not to listen
Lukas Van Vyve
I would accept
that once upon a time
I remembered your name
and once upon a time we both knew
we were one and all the same
When the thought of writing pops up, don’t wait for your mind to come up with excuses. Write.
When you want to go for a run, run.
When you think of someone, let them know.
You may not want to act on all your first impulses.
But deep down, you know which ones are good for you.
And you don’t want to second-guess those.
You might not think life is fair
but today you have another chance to care.
Whether you want it or not
Today you have another shot.
Isn’t that all you need?