Whenever someone commits to doing something and doesn’t follow through, I start distrusting them.
Whenever I commit to doing something and don’t follow through, I start distrusting myself.
The person who most often lets you down might well be you.
If you don’t accept this behavior from others, why would you accept it from yourself?
The path to higher self-esteem is paved with kept promises to yourself.
If you write more consistently than you don’t write, you’re a writer.
If you run more consistently than you don’t run, you’re a runner.
And while every action you take is a vote for who you want to be, you don’t need 100% of the votes to build a habit or adopt an identity.
It’s okay to slip up, it’s okay to take a break, and it’s okay to make a mistake – as long as you cast enough votes in favor of your desired identity.
Don’t be a hardliner nor a totalitarian. Be disciplined without fearing the occasional laps.
Focus on maintaining the majority.
Write, not for the words flowing on the page, but for how writing makes you feel.
Run, not for the personal records, but for how running makes you feel.
Help out friends, not for expecting them to return the favor, but for how helping out friends makes you feel.
Do the right thing, not for any outer reward, but an inner feeling of aligning with who you want to be.
What about second-hand memories? Accounts of past events we didn’t experience ourselves, wars, volcano eruptions, scientific discoveries,…
For knowledge to accumulate, to stand on the shoulders of giants, we need to transmit such lessons too. Not just as data or accounts of the past – also as memories.
But transmitting second-hand memories require trust.
Can we rely on the interpretation of others?
Who do we allow to control the narrative?
Parents? Elders? Teachers? Governments and politicians?
YouTubers? Influencers? Bloggers? Twitter gurus?
AI models and chatbots?
Objective data doesn’t exist. Objective memories don’t exist either. So if we can’t trust second-hand memories anymore, collective memory and our whole learning model collapses.
der Musenkuss (German) The kiss of the Muse
Creativity becomes much easier if you see it as a game of finding new ways of describing what has always been there.
Observing, rather than inventing.
It’s liberating. Because now the game changes from pulling ideas out of thin air to a game of discovery. Observation. Paying attention. Building upon what’s already discovered, then connecting the dots in way nobody else has.
Most of all: listening, when the muse finally arrives and visits you for a kiss.
There’s this voice in my mind
Impossible to ignore
And yet I fill my head with noise
Drowning out
What deep down I know to be true
Do I even want to admit
That this song in my heart
Is not about me
But about you?
P.S.: I’ve observed the same principle in language learning (and wrote a book about the consequences of this mindset shift).
Which begs the question…
Where else would we do better if we observed a bit more, rather than trying to invent from scratch?
Ernest Hemingway allegedly stopped his writing sessions in the middle of a sentence so he knew how to start his next session. He stopped writing, even if he could do more.
Julia Cameron teaches to write precisely three pages of stream-of-consciousness journaling a day. Stop journaling, even if you could do more.
I’ve gotten better results studying foreign languages 20 minutes a day for several months than rushing into a new language and studying it for 3 hours a day, then crashing and burning. I stop myself from learning, even if I could do more.
Because burnout and overindulgence stifle progress, and in the long run, moderation leads to more.
You’re not defined by the saint you wish to be someday.
Nor by the sinner you used to be back in the day.
You’re defined by the actions you decide to take today.
And tomorrow.
And the day after.
But mainly right now. Today.
