#414 What you’re doing things for
You don’t always need to know what you’re doing things for before you do them.
Sometimes you have to do them first, before you can figure out what you’re doing them for.
You don’t always need to know what you’re doing things for before you do them.
Sometimes you have to do them first, before you can figure out what you’re doing them for.
You’re ahead of your time.
You’ll always be behind.
And you’re right where you’re supposed to be.
Writing, running, work, relationships… No matter how you feel today, these three statements are all true, all at the same time, for everything you do.
Now we’ve got that out of the way, you can continue to do the work.
If I don’t write the post I intended to write, I actively avoid the desired result of my writing.
If I don’t do the workout I intended to do, I actively avoid the desired result of my workout (being in better shape, running a new PR,…)
If I don’t have the difficult conversation I intended to have, I actively avoid the desired result of that conversation.
Inaction is not the lack of action.
Inaction is taking active action to avoid working towards the result you desire.
The real question, then, is:
Why do I actively avoid working toward a desired result?
Am I worried that even if I write daily, I’ll never become a skilled writer?
Am I worried I won’t enjoy writing anymore if I ever get recognition?
Am I worried that writing every day will turn me into a skilled writer, but being a professional writer won’t be fulfilling?
P.S. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I only have a limited repertoire of examples in this newsletter, my friend
I trust you to apply the insight to your situation.
And maybe, when you’re pondering the question above, you’ll come to the same conclusion as me:
That more often than not, I’m more interested in the comfort of “wanting” something I don’t have than in “taking action to get something.”
First, you write. Then you become a writer.
First, you run. Then you become a runner.
First, you set boundaries. Then you become good at setting boundaries.
But before all that comes the decision to write. To run. To set boundaries.
Because you’re dissatisfied with the past and say never again.
Because you’re filled with excitement about a future vision.
Because you know you’re ready to make the change.
You’ll know when it’s time, my friend.
Nobody really knows what life is going to be bring.
But almost all of us are going to fine either way, not matter what life brings.
Without stress about what life might throw at you, what would you do?
What would you create?
Where would you go?
Who would you choose to be?
I made an account on Instagram to stay in touch with friends abroad. Now I habitually spend hours a day scrolling through Instagram feeds. Is this a purposeful pursuit?
I started journaling to clear my head. Now I habitually write and publish insights every day. Is this a purposeful pursuit?
Good intentions and purposeful actions inevitably turn into a habit, and that can be a good or a bad thing.
Constantly questioning our actions leads to paralysis.
But once in a while, gaining presence and reaffirming your intentions can be enough to put you back on track.
I can believe I must understand the theory before I engage in practice, or I can believe that theory makes more sense when it explains my practice.
Theory and practice are partners, and more often than not, it should be practice that leads the dance.