I may say I am bored – but what do I feel?
I may say I am angry – but what do I feel?
I may say I am in love – but what do I feel?
What does my body say?
Can I examine my feelings a different way?
Can I escape the tragedy of the spoken word?
Can I resist unconscious categorization and re-learn to listen to what’s behind the language?
Which conclusions did I draw from past experiences?
Have I overreacted to petty events, and ignored beautiful moments?
Have I deleted memories? Maybe invented some?
Have I built stories based on generalizations?
Most importantly: how does the past I still feel affect my actions today?
And if I know a lot of it was my own interpretation… could I change my past, or at least what it means to me?
Would that set me free?
I was undoubtedly in a pensive mood when writing this.
I guess, given the daily letters I send you, you might conclude I’m in a pensive mood every day.
And you wouldn’t be wrong.
But pensive moods can be useful – when they’re coupled with conclusions and insights. Maybe even with Tiny Trust Builders.
And if any of these questions help you re-interpret your past and set you free, too, I’ll be a happy man.
A wistful win-win.
I’ve been publishing daily posts for 300+ days now.
The secret?
Writing less.
I don’t want to spend hours writing daily posts, so I keep them short.
I don’t want to drag myself to a 4-day writing session to create all posts for the coming week in advance (then not write for the rest of the week)
I don’t want to set writing goals that are painful to reach and make me feel burnt out.
I do want to write a little bit every day, so I prove to myself every single day that I’m a writer.
I do want to feel that writing that daily post is achievable and fun.
I do want to build momentum.
Keep it achievable. Keep it pleasurable. Keep it sustainable.
In other words: Tiny Trust Builders.
Believing that it’s possible your wildest dreams can become reality is just as irrational as believing that it’s impossible.
Irrational, but not equal, because one leads to creation, the other to stagnation.
Choose wisely.
What would you still do even if nobody else would ever see or hear it?
What do you secretly love but you don’t WANT anyone else to see or hear – out of fear of being judged?
Both are good indicators of a passion – or an addiction.
If it’s a passion, and it’s good for you (aligned with your values and goals and fulfilling): pursue.
If it’s an addiction, and it’s bad for you: reconsider.
I don’t wake up every day in love with the prospect of writing a blog post.
But I do love that part of my identity is that I publish something every day.
By not publishing, I would lose that part of my identity and end up frustrated because I gave up something I enjoy. And that’s painful.
So I write.
The secret to sticking to your habits: make the pain of quitting bigger than the pain of getting over the resistance against doing what you know is good for you.
Because the pain of discipline is always easier to bear than the pain of regret.
There is no such thing as “abstaining from voting” in life.
Whether I decide to write today or not, I’m living my life and voting for an identity.
Whether I decide to do yoga today or not, I’m living a life and voting for an identity.
Whether I eat healthily today or not, I’m living my life and voting for an identity.
Whether I spend time with my family or not, I’m living my life and voting for an identity.
Voting is compulsory. Voting is inevitable.
You might as well do it intentionally.
