You got this.
Whether you feel like you got this or not…
You got this.
You can do this.
This is possible for you.
It has always been.
And it will always be.
Deep down, you know this.
And maybe today, you can start accepting it, too.
Today, you’ll force yourself to chase fulfilment, not instant pleasure.
Because when you start getting the taste what’s on the other side of your avoidance…
Soon enough you won’t need brute force anymore.
Sometimes I ask myself if you are asking yourself why I write you a short note every day, my friend.
Maybe I’m giving myself too much credit, and you’ve never asked yourself that question.
But I will answer it anyway, so let’s pretend you have.
Here’s the socially acceptable answer: for more than 200 days, I’ve been writing you a short note every day to remind you to make intelligent decisions about your life and who you want to be.
But as so often with us humans, the honest answer is more self-centered: I write you a short note every day to remind myself to make intelligent decisions about my life and who I want to be.
The fact that some insights are helpful to you is a nice bonus. But I would also write them if you have yet to read a single one of these insights.
Because to me, writing every day is a rallying cry for myself in an invisible battle that nobody might ever see – because it only exists in my head.
A battle against frustration, giving up, limiting beliefs, and a cage of social conditioning from which it’s hard to break free.
A battle to become who I’ve always wanted to be.
Yes, every note I write to you, my friend, is outward proof of a tiny inner victory, taking tiny steps towards more self-trust and fulfillment.
You may tell me I don’t have anything to prove to anyone, especially not myself.
And you may be right.
But I also know that we all have our battles to fight.
Battles about what we believe we deserve or not.
What we think we can do or not.
What we believe is possible for us or not.
What we desire.
Who we can be.
So while you might not be asking yourself why I write you something every day, I am asking myself which battles you are fighting.
I am looking for outward proof of your inner victories.
Whatever they are, when you shine a light on your invisible battles, I’ll be here to cheer you on.
Once you’ve been writing daily for long enough, continuing to write is the easier option, more aligned with your habits and identity.
Just like for most people, it feels more natural to continue brushing their teeth every day than to skip a day.
But when you’re still building the writing habit, skipping the writing is the easier option.
Which means it shouldn’t be an option at all — until it has become an option you’re not interested in anymore.
The first hour after I was born, 60 minutes encapsulated my entire life outside the womb.
An hour is an eternity.
When I celebrated my first trip around the sun, one year encapsulated my entire life outside the womb.
An hour is not that long anymore. But a year… that’s an eternity.
When I’ll celebrate my 30th birthday next year, one year encapsulates about 1/30th of my experience in this body here on earth.
A year is not that long anymore. But 30 years… that’s an eternity.
Lukas Van Vyve
There’s an absolute, immutable version of time, and then there’s our felt interpretation, which speeds up with every passing moment because we compare it to all the “time we’ve lived so far”.
Maybe that’s why the older we get, the more effort it takes to stay in the present moment?
Because, unlike a newborn child, for whom, compared to its short lifespan, an hour is an eternity, and every second is an opportunity to discover, drink in the world, explore…
We’ve lived so many hours, minutes, and seconds that we don’t care anymore.
with every passing year
Lukas Van Vyve
i’m more in a hurry
and the days, minutes, seconds
become ever more blurry
i can live fast and miss out
or slow down
listen, look around
be here, right now
let the world whisper loud
what life is all about
and at last
i hear you again.
Lick your wounds.
Learn the lessons.
Stop yourself from going astray.
Stay the course.
Come what may.
Tomorrow is another day.
What would your future look like if you weren’t rushing to get there so fast?
What would your present look like if you didn’t let it be limited by the past?
What would your dreams look like if you realized your potential is vast?
Would you be free at last?
