I don’t know why I decide to write every day.
But I know writing feels right.
I know it feels like what the person I want to be would do.
Sometimes, that explanation is not enough.
But usually that’s all the “why” I need to write again.
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 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.
Completion projects leads to restless rushing, an achievement, then a black hole. Indecision.
I got the promotion. I wrote the book. I finished the degree. I built the house. I sold the business. Now who am I… and what’s next?
Consistency projects lead to a change in habits and identity. Every day, I do what I believe to be true to who I am. As a result, every day, I’m becoming who I truly want to be.
Consistency projects are true life projects, because they’re about taking daily actions and installing habits, never-ending until they come to their natural conclusion.
I’ll write every day without ever thinking I’m writing my last words. Now I’m a writer… until one day, I feel: the season of writing is over.
You’ll tend to gardens, plants, and trees every day without ever thinking this is the last flower you’ll hold in your hand… until one day, you feel: the season of tree-tending is over.
We take care of our children from the moment they’re born, without thinking about letting them go. Now we’re caretakers… until one day, we feel: the season of caretaking is over.
We’ll breathe every day, without ever thinking about breathing our last breath. Now we’re breathers… until one day, we feel: the season of breathing is over.
Lukas Van Vyve
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
My sense of fulfillment comes from taking daily actions that are aligned with a personal philosophy and a purpose I intentionally determine.
As life unfolds, my purpose can change. My values can change. I can feel over the moon, dreadful, and everything in between.
My daily actions can change (and they certainly won’t always be aligned with my personal philosophy).
But the fulfillment formula always stays the same.
Are the majority of my daily actions in alignment with my purpose, values, and the identity I want to forge?
A consequence of this formula: Without clear purpose, without consciously choosing values or designing a personal philosophy, without knowing what you stand for and who you choose to be, it’s hard to feel fulfilled.
In short: intentional, aligned, disciplined living and identity building helps to feel fulfilled.
Every time I commit to do something and then follow through, I’m building self-trust in my ability to persevere (because actions overrule thoughts).
Now here’s the pitfall: the action you commit to doesn’t have to be grand or impressive for you to build trust.
There’s only one thing that matters: commit, then follow through.
I set out to meditate 30 seconds today – and I follow through? I’m building self-trust. I’m a meditator now.
I set out to write one sentence – and I actually write one sentence? I’m building self-trust. I’m a writer now.
I set out to do one push-up – and I do one push-up? I’m building self-trust. I’m an exerciser now.
Such tiny actions might not make a huge difference in your skill level, but that’s irrelevant. You’re not building skill (yet). You’re building self-trust by making commitments, then following through.
Once you trust yourself to follow through, you can start thinking about skill. That’s the flow of skill- and habit-building.
So… first things first. Commit to a tiny action. Follow through. Build self-trust and self-esteem.
The magic is in the Tiny Trust Builders.
