Be a writer, and write.
Be a runner, and run.
Be a singer, and sing.
Be a teacher, and teach.
Be a parent, and love your children.
Be a lover, and love your partner.
I believe this is who I am. I believe this is what I do.
I believe I am free. And so are you.
When you need to do it every day
there just is no other way
you’re developing a habit, but it could still fade away.
When you don’t need to do it every day
and you trust you’ll stay on track anyway
you know the habit is here to stay.
To know what you’re going to write, you have to begin writing.
Similarly, to know why you’re writing, you have to begin writing.
The lure towards writing is what sets you in motion.
And so it goes for drawing. Singing. Building. Entrepreneurship. Creating. Meeting friends. Lovers. Life partners.
The act itself is what reveals both the purpose and the shape.
Today is your lucky day, my friend.
Or at least, it could be, depending on how you interpret what will happen.
Today is your worst day ever, my friend.
Or at least, it could be, depending on how you interpret what will happen.
The choice is yours. It has always been.
P.S. I don’t know about you, but weirdly enough, being able to decide over your luck didn’t feel like a relief to me at first.
That’s a good topic for another day…
Changes too small to notice today become impossible to ignore when they stack up – as long as you take the time to look back.
Writing this post today doesn’t feel different than the one I wrote yesterday. But when I think about the first daily post I wrote two months ago… it’s a different game.
I wonder what it’ll feel like in 600 days.
Is there anything that changed for you in the past months, without you even noticing?
If, in defiance of every limiting belief you have about yourself, you started to write every day, and you’re sticking to it, what else can you do that you previously thought impossible?
This is how the world becomes your oyster.
You’re a writer now.
And that means you’re starting to have a shot at being a good writer.
Admiring (flawed) early work is easy when we already know the late work is going to be great.
Everyone forgives Picasso or Da Vinci for a lousy early sketch. In fact, people pay good money to hang one in their living room.
Maybe the early work, showing that even the greats are mere mortals on a journey towards excellence, is the most valuable?
And yet, it’s much harder to be gentle on a beginning artist for shipping mediocre creative work – not in the least for the beginning artist themselves – when their path to excellence hasn’t unfolded yet.
After all, something that one day will be “my early work” is still “my current best work” today.
The road to excellence is invisible from the trenches.
But that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.
Which makes me wonder…
When I know that through persistence and daily practice, one day, I’ll look back on today’s creation, smiling, thinking: “Oh how far I’ve come… How much I’ve learned… And some of this was actually pretty good…”
Can I admire my creative work less for what it looks, feels, or sounds like, and more for who I’m becoming through making it?
Can I do the same for the creative projects of others?
With that mindset… How much easier and forgiving would the daily creative journey be?
