#538 When things don’t seem to go
Things don’t seem to go your way
And that’s okay
Because all you can do is show up today.
Things do seem to go your way
And that’s okay
Because all you can do is show up today.
Things don’t seem to go your way
And that’s okay
Because all you can do is show up today.
Things do seem to go your way
And that’s okay
Because all you can do is show up today.
This book put into words something I didn’t even know I had forgotten: that we’re all animal, but our minds deny it, so we have to learn to become animal again.
With the memory of what being animal is like
back on my mind
the earth is my home again.
On 1. January 2021, I started writing 3 pages of stream-of-consciousness journaling a day. I haven’t missed a day since. That’s 663 days in a row: an inner dialogues of 1989 pages poured in to piles of journals.
Stream-of-consciousness journaling is also often called Morning Pages (a term coined by Julia Cameron in her book “The Artist’s Way“).
The idea is that you wake up in the morning and before you do anything else, take a journal and pen, and you start externalizing the voice talking to yourself in your head on the page.
You don’t stop to think about perfect phrasing (your inner voice never stops talking, either). In fact, you don’t lift your pen off the paper at all until you’ve filled 3 pages.
Shopping lists, to-dos, dreams, interactions, worries, fears, excitement, goals, friends, family, memories, ideas, goals,… whatever’s on your mind.
No poetry, no perfect prose, no structured sentences, no coherent insights – unless that’s what flows out of you.
No judgment either. You never even have to read this back.
Nothing but pure, unfiltered stream of consciousness.
This simple practice has transformed me.
Or don’t do any of the above and just write.
Write first thing tomorrow morning.
Don’t overthink it, just write.
Don’t read it back, just write.
Don’t worry about grammar, just write.
Then when you’re done, write some more.
Thought of the day: it’s better to be proven wrong than to be paralyzed in doubt.
The meaning of your life is not in the goals you crave.
It’s not in the results you chase.
Nor is it in the habits you create.
The meaning is in what you do in this very moment.
And the next moment.
And the one after that.
The meaning is in your collection of actions. In your collection of decisions. In your collection of present moments. Wherever they take you.
Life isn’t all about the big leaps.
One more step.
That’s all it takes.
Just one more step.
For all the languages I’ve learned
trying in vain to put the inner and outer world into words
closely but not completely capturing the essence
I now realize the biggest insights reveal themselves
where words are worthless and feelings reign
where they are felt and lived, embodied,
refusing to be rationalized, categorized
or undergo the violent limitations of our words.
Maybe language learning is more about admitting that some languages are lived, not learned.
That some insights are felt, not expressed.
That sometimes words create distance from what we experience deep down, instead of offering the clarity we seek.
Accepting that may well be the biggest challenge of all.
There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen.
Rumi