#334 Writing isn’t hard
Writing isn’t hard. Writing every day is – until it isn’t anymore.
That’s when writing becomes hard.
Build the habit, then you get a shot at building the skill.
Writing isn’t hard. Writing every day is – until it isn’t anymore.
That’s when writing becomes hard.
Build the habit, then you get a shot at building the skill.
Lick your wounds.
Learn the lessons.
Stop yourself from going astray.
Stay the course.
Come what may.
Tomorrow is another day.
The path toward self-awareness isn’t always pleasant.
Take yesterday, when I realized that in many cases, I’m more interested in the comfort of “wanting” something I don’t have than in “taking action to get something.”
That unappealing realization triggered a cascade of even more unappealing questions.
Would I rather mess around with small blog posts instead of becoming a skilled writer crafting coherent arguments?
Would I rather learn about a million different strategies to grow a newsletter instead of actually spreading the word and getting more people to read my newsletter?
Would I rather learn how to learn a language than actually learn a new language?
Is the frustration of unrealized potential also a huge source of comfort in my life?
I’m not sure if I should be happy with that realization.
Maybe realizations aren’t even supposed to make me happy.
But even if they were, it doesn’t matter.
Because look: here I am, writing another insight about it.
Another Tiny Trust Builder, proving that every day, I am one step closer to renouncing my citizenship of the United States of “If I wanted, I could.”
Another reminder to myself and you, my friend, one I’ll repeat until the bitter end: actions overrule thoughts.
First, you write. Then you become a writer.
First, you run. Then you become a runner.
First, you set boundaries. Then you become good at setting boundaries.
But before all that comes the decision to write. To run. To set boundaries.
Because you’re dissatisfied with the past and say never again.
Because you’re filled with excitement about a future vision.
Because you know you’re ready to make the change.
You’ll know when it’s time, my friend.
Nobody chooses to get addicted to social media.
We chose to get something of value: stay connected with friends. Stay up-to-date. Discover interesting voices.
Then we get addicted through features that bring little value: likes, notification signs, flashy videos hijacking our brains. That’s where the addiction creeps up to you.
If the interests of social media apps (make you spend as much time as possible on the platform) start deviating so much from the original reason we started using them…
Is massive addiction worth the minimal value?
Where am I scared of getting what I want, stopping myself from seeing that I already have it?
Where am I addicted to the feeling of not having what I want, to the degree that I can’t see I already have it?
Where has a feeling of scarcity become the goal I pursue, stopping me from feeling fulfilled?
All in on getting fluent in a foreign language?
That’s a 6-12 month game, at the minimum.
All in on learning an instrument?
Count on a multi-year (or multi-decade) game.
All-in on getting in shape?
That’s a life-long game.
This is not a poker game. You’re not trying to impress anyone. There are no opponents to deter. Not everything hinges on one big moment where you can win or lose it all.
You’re not only all in the moment you decide you’re all-in. You’re all in for the entire journey. That means: making your efforts, resources, and motivation last.
All in means preparing for the long game.
Choosing small daily habits over grand gestures.
Choosing consistency over completion.
Accepting that whatever you go all in on will inevitably change your identity.
Now you’re all in on life, and who you aspire to be.