It’s not about content, it’s about consistent content.
It’s not about running, it’s about repeated running.
It’s not about meditating, it’s about many moments of meditating.@
It’s about repeated rehearsal, until you finally get it.
Some days I have ten ideas to write about. Some days, zero.
But when I lack ideas to write about, the ideas aren’t really gone. I’m in a scarcity state: my brain chemistry prevents me from accessing the insights.
When I feel lonely, friends and family I can connect with aren’t really gone. I’m in a scarcity state: my brain chemistry prevents me from connecting with them.
Scarcity is like pollution.
When noise pollution of cars, planes and construction machines drown out the singing of the birds, the birds aren’t really gone. I just can’t hear them.
When light pollution drowns out the stars, they’re not really gone. I just can’t see them.
So how do I get out of scarcity? How do I reduce pollution?
Here’s what works for me:
Notice I’m in scarcity mode. Then move. Meditate. Do stream-of-consciousness journaling.
Then find a place where I hear the birds.
Find a place where I can see the stars.
Write anyway.
And connect with friends and family anyway.
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?
If I want to act differently, I let go of the past.
If I want to act the same way I always did, I cling to the past.
Both clinging and letting go have their place.
I could cling to a habit of eating healthily, or treating others with kindness.
But maybe I could let go of a habit of self-criticism.
What benefits me? What benefits others?
What harms me? What harms others?
Who do I want to be?
Shadow writer – someone who holds a secret desire, maybe even an irresistible urge to write but is afraid of being criticized – so their words never even make it on the page.
Shadow runner – someone who’d love to run a marathon but doesn’t believe they could train consistently enough to make it happen – so their legs never even take them on a single run.
Shadow singer – someone who loves singing but believes nobody will like their voice anyway – so their song never even reaches past the shower cabin.
Shadow entrepreneur – someone who has a big life-changing vision, but keeps it hidden out of fear of being ridiculed, dismissed, or ignored – so their ideas never even make it out of hiding.
Where are you staying in the shadow of your own self-denial?
Which daily Tiny Trust Builders could help you to step out of that shadow – and do what you always wanted to do?
It’s time.
(If this resonates, you might want to read The Artist’s Way)
“You already know what I’m going to say,” the mentor I don’t have tells me.
It’s true.
I don’t need anyone to tell me what to do.
Neither do you.
All you need is someone to remind you to do what you already know.
If you had constant presence of mind, you could remind yourself.
But if you’re anything like me, your clarity gets lost in day-to-day desires, worries, and chores.
And that’s fine.
Because that’s what you’re here for, no?
Not to learn what your life should look like but to receive a reminder to live it daily?
The thing about ideas
Is that they tend to fade
Unless you give them space
to adapt to the pace
of the physical world
Unless you give ideas
space to breathe
they won’t succeed
