Similar Posts

  • | |

    #108 The Unexpected Complement

    Unique value often lies in seemingly strange combinations.

    The beekeeping lawyer.

    The pro soccer player with an astrophysics degree.

    The theologist waking up early every morning to go surfing.

    The public servant spending their evenings performing at the local stand-up comedy bar.

    The motorcycle repair shop owner writing philosophy books.

    The chess champion with a Brazilian Ju-Jitsu black belt.

    Societal pressure and expectations make such combinations unlikely. Out of the ordinary. Maybe even undesirable: an obstacle to conformity.

    And if it’s undesirable, it becomes rare.

    And here’s the twist: what’s rare usually becomes valuable.

    Because there’s nothing incompatible about these combinations – in fact, the skills you practice may well complement each other in unique and valuable ways.

    What could be an unexpected complement for your life?

    Something you’re secretly interested in, but – according to society – doesn’t fit who you are (or who you’re supposed to be)?

  • | |

    #23 For all the languages I’ve learned

    For all the languages I’ve learned
    trying in vain to put the inner and outer world into words
    closely but not completely capturing the essence
    I now realize the biggest insights reveal themselves
    where words are worthless and feelings reign
    where they are felt and lived, embodied,
    refusing to be rationalized, categorized
    or undergo the violent limitations of our words.

    Maybe language learning is more about admitting that some languages are lived, not learned.

    That some insights are felt, not expressed.

    That sometimes words create distance from what we experience deep down, instead of offering the clarity we seek.

    Accepting that may well be the biggest challenge of all.

    There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen.

    Rumi
  • |

    #220 A reminder to decide

    I could decide that writing less than 1000 words a day would be a failure – and I would be correct.

    I could decide that writing more than 50 words a day would be a failure – and I would be correct.

    I could decide that not writing today would be failure – and I would be correct.

    After all, for many things in life, you get to decide yourself what’s failure and what’s success.

    In fact, my friend, just like me you may have already decided for yourself what’s failure and what’s success.

    And just like me, you may need a reminder of that decision once in a while, so you can verify if it still serves you.

    This is that reminder.

    Which serves me well, because my decision was that writing you this short daily letter is exactly right.

    See you tomorrow.

  • | |

    #91 Now is not the time to negotiate

    I commit to taking a cold shower. To publish a daily blog post. To do a yoga class, because these actions contribute to my vision for who I want to be.

    I commit, despite the knowledge that when the time has come, right before I turn the shower tap to cold, I won’t want to take a cold shower.

    That right before I start writing an article, my mind will throw a million distractios at me.

    That right before my yoga workout, my mind will start negotiating with itself, coming up with reasons why I’d better do something else.

    “Today it’s cold outside, what if I start tomorrow?”
    “I don’t feel like it today, maybe I’ll just write two articles tomorrow?”
    “{{insert any excuse my mind makes up to avoid short-term discomfort}}

    But now is not the time to negotiate.

    Do I choose the long-term pain of regret over the short-term pain of discipline?

    Do I choose to cultivate a procrastinator identity, or do I become a go-getter?

    Who do I want (and choose) to be?

    I can evaluate and adjust my plan afterwards.

    But now is not the time to negotiate.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *