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.
My actions affect my identity and beliefs.
And my identity and beliefs affect which actions I take.
So, to change, I must consciously take actions that divert from my established identity and beliefs, and do what you believe is impossible for yourself.
Until it’s not impossible anymore.
It’s not an easy road, my friend. It takes courage. Effort. Sometimes pain.
Many times, it’s not worth it.
But sometimes, there’s no other way.
And in those moments, it’s good to know there’s always someone willing to show you a path, paved by Tiny Trust Builders, taking you wherever you want to go.
Since you’re reading my letters, that someone could be me, my friend.
Or anyone else you know.
I guess all I want to say is: you’re not in this alone.
When you outsource your happiness, you’ll always be under stress.
If you knew you’d always feel unsatisfied with what you write, would you still let satisfaction play a role in your writing process?
If you knew your writing would always be criticized by others, no matter how good it is, would you still let their criticism determine whether you should publish?
If you’d take the fear that stops you the most and rob it of its power, would you write and publish more?
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
If only someone told you before
That no matter how loud the others shout
Nobody has it figured out
If only someone told you before
That the rules you use to govern your life
Aren’t set in stone?
If only someone told you before
That it’s totally okay
To find your own way
If only someone told you before…
When you decide if you should be chasing this goal, job, relationship, or place to live – in other words, commitment – you choose between action or inaction based on if it’s a viable, worthwhile, realistic goal.
When you decide on the course of action – in other words, how to do something – you’re already committed to action.
Sometimes, the commitment might be too big, too hard, or too disruptive – and that’s perfectly valid.
But here’s what I’ve noticed, my friend: whenever I try to decide on the how before I’ve decided on the commitment, I have even more doubts, and any course of action seems complicated.
I’m curious how you feel about it. We’ll talk more about it in the coming days and weeks.
