The ideas that are hardest to write about are the ideas worth writing about.
The thoughts that are hardest to explain are the thoughts worth explaining.
The feelings that are hardest to express are the feelings worth expressing.
Most things are hard and a challenge, until suddenly they aren’t anymore.
And then we’ll find a new challenge.
And maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.
No one is bad at sticking to habits.
Because everyone’s day-to-day life is stitched together with recurring activities anyway, whether you consciously choose to do them or not.
Maybe you brush your teeth every day – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you wash your hands before every meal – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you shower every morning right after waking up – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you write every day – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you practice yoga three times a week – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Maybe you spend 10 minutes daily catching up with family, friends, acquaintances, or relatives you haven’t seen in a while – and that has become a non-negotiable.
Habits are habits.
And that has an interesting consequence:
If you can do that, you can also do this.
Whenever you set out to establish a new habit, there’s often a nagging thought at the back of your mind wondering, “When will you quit this time?”
But the naysayer in your head that has had free reign for all these years can’t be silenced.
They can only be proven wrong.
“You expect me to quit? Watch me.”
“Say whatever you want; I am showing up today.”
Tiny Trust Builders, day after day, until the naysayer admits, “I was wrong. You’re not that person anymore.”
Day 20 of my daily publishing experiment. What I’ve learned (or remembered) so far:
In short, a pattern I’ve observed many time in the past years is playing out again:
When I start defying my own excuses by taking action, no matter how small, my self-trust grows, my self-image shifts, and I become more of the person I want to be.
Which begs the question:
Where else am I frustrated, holding on to a static identity of the past that I could prove wrong by taking action?
If you truly believe you can write every day – not that it is generally possible to write every day, but that YOU can write every day – you would be doing it already.
So if you’re not, ask yourself:
Do you believe YOU can write every day?
If not, why not?
Is it physically impossible for you to write something every day? A page, a paragraph, a sentence… a word?
Deep down, you know the answer to that question.
And now we’ve established you can write every day; what other excuses come up?
That the work won’t be good?
That the words won’t capture what you want to say?
That you’ll disappoint others?
That you’ll disappoint yourself?
Put words to your fears, then ask yourself: what would happen if they all came true?
Would that stop you from writing? Or would it liberate you?
Would you maybe be just fine?
What would it be like to have overcome your fears and still be writing anyway?
Only one way to find out…
Write. Every. Day.
I can choose to procrastinate on a project for weeks – then finish it all in one go, right before the deadline.
In absolute terms, I might have been very efficient with my time – but the time I saved, I spent frustrated with myself.
The long-term effect on my self-image: I’m a procrastinator.
What if I work a little bit on a project every single day – and have it finished well before the deadline?
I might spend more time in total – but every day, every moment spent makes me feel good about myself.
The long-term effect on my self-image: I cultivate an identity of discipline and consistency. I do what I believe to be good for me. I build character. Taking small daily actions towards a goal becomes part of my identity.
What’s more: I avoid the frustration and resentment that comes with procrastination (=not doing what I know I should be doing), and feel good about myself instead.
Long-term, the benefits of small daily actions always outweigh huge last-minute efforts.
