When I write, I’m meditating.
When I meditate, I’m writing.
When I run, I’m meditating.
When I meditate, I’m running.
When I play the guitar, I’m meditating.
When I meditate, I’m playing the guitar.
When I meditate, I’m writing.
When I write, I’m running.
When I run, I’m playing the guitar.
And no matter what I do, I’m always living.
Life experience always carries over.
Learning a skill isn’t so much about getting better – that’s just a side effect.
It’s about discovering new ways of doing the same thing – just because you can, and just because you’re curious.
Doing the same thing, this time precisely – then doing it again, not precisely at all.
Doing the same thing, this time deliberately, carefully thinking about every step – then doing it again, not thinking about any steps at all.
When you stay curious, you learn to discover nuances you couldn’t perceive before.
When you stay curious, you learn to be deliberate until you can be intuitive.
When you stay curious, you learn to become less blind to what’s already here.
And when you stay curious, you realize there’s not much more to a fulfilling life than sculpting away, day by day – and anything can be a fulfilling skill.
I may say I am bored – but what do I feel?
I may say I am angry – but what do I feel?
I may say I am in love – but what do I feel?
What does my body say?
Can I examine my feelings a different way?
Can I escape the tragedy of the spoken word?
Can I resist unconscious categorization and re-learn to listen to what’s behind the language?
A voice in my head says I can’t write every day?
I’ll write 2 sentences every day, just to prove to that voice that I, in fact, CAN write every day.
A voice in my head says I don’t have the perseverance to train for (and then finish) a marathon?
I’ll do something small to prepare for the marathon every day, so at the end of each day, I can say to myself “The proof is there, today was another day of me persevering and preparing for a marathon.”
You can’t brute-force your way out of an “I can’t do this” belief. You can only take small actions that start proving the contrary.
Slowly but surely, you chip away at the credibility of the naysayer voice, until the scale starts tipping over, and an encouraging voice emerges.
Yesterday, we got to do it all over again.
Today, we get to do it all over again.
And tomorrow, we get to do it all over again, too.
Maybe that routine is what gives us peace of mind in the uncontrollable chaos of life?
Maybe that routine isn’t a drag, but, in fact, the beauty of life?
The trick to successful habit-building: make daily practice easy.
We often do the opposite: we make weekly practice hard.
If I tell myself I’m going to post one long blog post every week, I’ll find a million reasons not to write for the first six days until I have no choice but to write.
But if I tell myself I will post daily, the longest I can procrastinate is… 12 hours?
And after a week, I’ve practiced my publishing habit 7 times.
So it goes for meditation, yoga, running, and any skill or habit.
Make the daily practice easy.
Within a split second, I’ve categorized an object as an apple. Now I don’t pay attention to the dimensions, color, smell, and texture anymore.
Within a split second, I’ve categorized an emotion as anger, fear, frustration, love. So I don’t pay attention to the physiological changes in my body anymore.
I’m always categorizing – but I didn’t consciously create the categories.
But what if I’m categorizing inaccurately?
Can I interrupt instant categorization, governed by language, habits, patterns, past experience?
Can I re-open my senses and see, smell, touch, hear, feel again?
Can I start sensing nuances between the objects I behold?
Can I discern nuances between the feelings I feel?
Mindfulness, journaling, meditation, and learning languages can help with more conscious categorization.
Because what if the anger I feel is nothing but fear?
What if the fear I feel is nothing but frustration?
What if the frustration I feel is nothing but unrequited love?
And what if the love I feel is nothing but infatuation?
