People can think you’re not good at writing, and you can still write – and love it.
You can think you’re not good at writing, and you can still write – and love it.
You can think you’ll never be good at writing, and you can still write – and love it.
Because whether you’re good at something or not is nowhere nearly as relevant as how fulfilled it makes you feel.
When you feel inspired, write.
When you feel you don’t have a single sensible word in you, write.
When you feel like the last thing you want to do is writing, write.
Because writing will bring your identity and mindset back to where it
belongs.
Because you’re a writer.
And writers write.
If you know where you should go, relax. You’ll get there, fast or slow.
If you don’t know where you should go, relax. You’ll probably still get where you must go.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Keep moving.
Fast or slow.
Playing the guitar hasn’t taught me to move my hands and fingers across strings. It has taught me to persevere whenever I’m failing over and over again until suddenly, it all clicks and the words, music, or movements flow.
Yoga hasn’t taught me to put my body in awkward poses. It has taught me to be aware of – and release – the tension in my body whenever I sit, walk, stand, and run.
Taking cold showers hasn’t taught me to withstand cold water. It has taught me to know to relax whenever my body tenses up in stress and my heart starts racing.
Learning a foreign language hasn’t taught me to say the same things with different words. It has taught me that there are different ways of perceiving the wordless world around me, and expressing what I feel inside.
When we isolate insights, most of the learning is lost on us.
Learn thematically. Ask yourself, “Where else does this apply?”
Giving it your best doesn’t mean you’ll always create your best work.
But when you give it your best daily and you zoom out, you’ll notice how, slowly but surely, your best work becomes better and better.
And that’s all that matters.
Publishing a daily blog post may seem unreasonable to you,
but for me, it’s just what I do.
Going for a daily run may seem unreasonable to you,
but for me… it’s just what I do.
For you it may be an unreasonable thing to do,
yeet I am me.
And you are you.
What’s an unreasonable thing for everyone else,
but for you, it’s just what you do?
Wisdom doesn’t come from experience. It comes from reflecting on experience.
— Adam Grant (@AdamMGrant) December 11, 2022
Between ages 25 and 75, the correlation between age and wisdom is zero.
Gaining insight and perspective is not about the number of years you've lived. It's about the number of lessons you've learned. pic.twitter.com/8wbKsCMkED
Memory isn’t an objective account of the past – and that’s not its purpose either.
Memory stores the lessons we extract from life experience. And to do so, it modifies, adds, subtracts, highlights, and hides.
Hot soup burns my tongue – next time, I’ll remember the pain, but not if it was tomato soup or chicken soup. And I’ll remember to wait a couple of minutes before having the first spoon.
Experience lived. Irrelevant info deleted. Lesson learned. Memory created.
My country gets invaded – and that causes so much pain, I won’t just deliver an objective account of what happened: I’ll make sure to tell everyone who the evil guys are too.
Experience lived. Story modified. Lesson learned. Memory created.
I eat the most delicious dessert at a Mexico City restaurant – that’s the memory I’m going to tell my friends about, not which glass of dessert wine I had with it.
Experience lived. Dessert highlighted. Lesson learned. Memory created.
You’re going to make memories anyway. Which lessons do you want to learn?
