#427 You don’t know what’s possible for you.
You don’t know what you can do.
You don’t know what’s possible for you.
But every day, you get to find out.
Isn’t that beautiful
You don’t know what you can do.
You don’t know what’s possible for you.
But every day, you get to find out.
Isn’t that beautiful
Intentional living is about reminding yourself of what’s most important to you.
Reminding yourself that you can choose to be a writer, a runner, a musician, an artist, or a bon vivant.
Reminding yourself that you can choose to be kind to others.
Reminding yourself that you have a choice to act differently.
Reminding yourself that the past does not equal the future.
Reminding yourself that this, too, shall pass.
Reminding yourself that at any given moment, whatever reminder you need the most, you likely won’t think of yourself.
Reminding yourself that for this reason, it’s OK to get help and let someone else remind you with short daily notes.
And me, reminding myself that the act of writing daily reminders for you is the reminder I need to remember that I do, in fact, choose to be consistent, and I choose to be a writer.
Reminders upon reminders upon reminders that we will constantly get distracted, and we will always have the choice to come back to what truly matters.
Eating junk food for dinner. Because that’s what you always did.
Having home-grown vegetables for lunch. Because that’s what you always did.
Scrolling through social media apps for 20 minutes. Because that’s what you always did.
Meditating for 20 minutes every morning. Because that’s what you always did.
Working 15-hour days. Because that’s what you always did.
Taking the time to relax, let the mind wander, and be with family. Because that’s what you always did.
Our lives are full of predictable pathways, paved and reinforced by our past and present actions.
But not all pathways are desirable.
Luckily the past doesn’t equal the future.
You can change your present actions to change the course of your pathway, away from a predictable future towards a desirable future.
Most people don’t really want the freedom to do anything they want, in other words, a life without constraints.
They want the freedom to set their own constraints.
To decide, “I want to spend my time writing,” instead of saying, “I am supposed to become a lawyer because that’s what we do in this family.”
To decide, “I don’t drink alcohol,” instead of saying, “My social circle forces me to have a glass when I’m out.”
To decide, “I want to live in that house, drive that car, and go on that exotic holiday, and I’m going to make it happen,” instead of saying, “I’m constrained by my talent, potential, current job, or where I grew up.”
To decide, “I have time to learn a new language because it’s important to me,” instead of saying, “I’m too busy, I can’t (or don’t deserve to) do anything nice for myself.”
Good or bad, beneficial or misguided, constraints are always there.
Because life constantly forces you to make decisions, and every decision leads to a new constraint.
Since it’s challenging to be aware of your decisions and their long-term constraining effects, which constraints do you consider important enough to set consciously (and spend considerable time and effort doing so)?
Where do you allow others to dictate the constraints you live within?
Who do you allow to dictate the constraints you live within?
Pick your freedom battles.
Journaling question of the day: Why am I rushing?
Out of habit and automaticity – mindlessness caused by endless repetition?
Out of discomfort – I want to get out of this situation as soon as possible?
Out of impatience – I expect whatever comes next to be more interesting or riveting?
What would happen if I don’t rush this?
By interrupting the automaticity and slowing down, will I reopen my senses and discover new nuances?
By not rushing away from discomfort, will I discover everything is not as bad as I feared it would be?
By resisting impatience, can I become fascinated with whatever is happening right here, right now?
I don’t care what I write.
I care that I write.
Because only once the daily act of writing isn’t in question anymore, can I start writing what matters.
When it comes to habits, our actions in the present make future present moments more (or less) likely.
Do I journal today? That’s a vote for my journaling identity – which increases the likelihood of another journaling moment tomorrow. Predictive power.
Do I check Instagram today? That’s a vote for my Instagram-browsing identity – which increases the likelihood of another Instagram moment tomorrow. Predictive power.
Have I journaled 700 days in a row? I can say quite confidently I’ll journal again tomorrow. Massive predictive power.
So how do change the future?
Weaken the predictive power of one habit – stop taking the actions you want to change.
Strengthen the predictive power of a new habit – intentionally start taking different actions, and let every present moment be a vote for that new habit (and new identity).
The process is challenging and slow.
You’ll need patience.
Willpower to resist the pull of habits that have already accumulated tremendous predictive power.
You’ll need presence of mind and perseverance to choose new actions because you know they’re important to you.
It’s challenging. Slow. And worth it.
Because this is how you make the future yours.