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.
I can’t do it the way I want it yet.
Which is exactly why I’m doing it.
What do we do when AI can cobble together in seconds essays that take us hours (or days) to write – not even counting years of practice?
Maybe it just raises the bar for us – requiring is to make new work that continues to stand out from AI-generated content.
As things stand, that’s still possible.
But what happens when the bar is set so high that our human brains can’t jump over it anymore, even with a lifetime of practice?
Goals make you write every day and enjoy the process, even if you’ll never publish a book.
Goals make you practice yoga and get to know your body, even if you’ll never be able to be in that ultimate pose.
Goals makes you help someone and learn to give and contribute, even if your help ultimately doesn’t get them to the place they wanted to go.
Goals don’t predict outcomes. Because the purpose of a goal is not to achieve it, but to set the direction of your life.
It gives you the fuel to start taking action, and the guidance to make sure that action is intentional.
I don’t know about you, my friend, but to me, that’s a fulfilling thought.
I can’t predict what will happen tomorrow – or even today.
But I do know that today, I resolve to write.
And tomorrow I resolve to write once again.
And that resolve has brought me to 439 consecutive days of writing.
439 days of writing, despite living in an unpredictable world.
439 days of realizing most obstacles are excuses.
439 days of proving that resolve can bring you pretty far.
Only when you stop worrying about whether you’re a good writer do you have a shot at being a writer.
Only when you stop worrying about whether you’re a good friend, you have a shot at having true friendship.
Only when the worries stop, does the potential show up.
When technology and AI outpace us and we can’t be the best, smartest, fastest, strongest on the planet anymore – will we still care about our economic output?
When results have become irrelevant, what are the things I will still want to do?
Maybe we’ll rediscover value in our actions themselves and the pleasure and pain they make us feel – happy, sad, useful, worthless, brimming with purpose, overflowing with self-hatred…?
Will I still write just because I enjoy writing, even if AI could write a better-researched, more insightful book than I ever could?
Will I still learn a language just because learning a language makes me feel good, even if I could use an instant translation device to talk to anyone in the world?
Will I still spend my days in an office cubicle if that’s a painful prospect?
An era of soul-searching is coming.
