The moment you accept you don’t feel like writing today and tell yourself that’s fine, is the moment you’ll write again.
Because you can only know and do what’s best for you when you stop fighting yourself.
We don’t always have a perfect day. And we all have voices in our head saying we’re going to fail anyway.
But who gets to vote?
Who gets a say?
Could there be an easier path to do what you want to do?
Have you ever considered taking that path?
If not, could you consider it today?
If yes, are the reasons why you don’t take that path still valid?
Could it all be much simpler than you’re making it?
I don’t care much for indifference.
But dismissal… that’s something else.
The more I dismiss something, the more curious I get.
Does it contradict my values?
Am I afraid?
Or am I pushing away something I secretly want?
I don’t know what it is about dismissal, my friend.
But I do know that the stronger the feelings, the more interesting it gets.
Thinking about writing makes the writing harder.
Dreaming about writing makes the writing harder.
Planning my writing sessions makes the writing harder.
But writing… that makes the writing easier.
Because most things become easier when you actually do them instead of just think about them.
I couldn’t imagine finding time for 3 pages of stream-of-consciousness journaling a day – until I started writing them. 700 days later, I haven’t missed a day.
I couldn’t imagine finding time or energy to publish a daily blog post – until I started publishing them. 70 days later, I haven’t missed a day.
I couldn’t imagine finding time or willpower for 5 yoga sessions a week – until I started doing them. 2 years later, I can’t imagine not doing them anymore.
Sometimes it’s hard to see how you could have time or energy for something before you just start doing it. Then it becomes the new normal.
It’s your mind playing tricks on you.
Start doing (and start small). Keep doing. Then start believing.
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?
