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.
You don’t know what tomorrow will bring.
But you do have a say in how you spend today.
And when you go to bed, and tomorrow becomes today, you’ll have a say in that day too.
And when you spend every today doing what’s important, maybe you don’t even need to know what the future holds.
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?
Achieving an outcome without the daily actions that lead to an identity shift is empty and unsustainable.
I may want to publish a book. But if someone writes the whole book without my input and I put my name on it in the end, do I deserve to call it my book?
I have a book. But I’m not a writer. And I’m not an author.
I may want to have a million dollars. But if tomorrow I win the lottery or receive a large inheritance without any action from my side, what does that mean?
I have a million dollars. But I’m not wealthy – and research suggests that without proper guidance, I’ll spend it all, ending up back at square one.
It works the other way around, too. You can blindly chase an outcome (or slip into bad habits) without considering how the actions you need to take to get there will change you as a person.
Depending on your actions to get there, chasing fame can make you happy – or very unhappy. Writing a book can make you happy or very unhappy. Building a hugely successful company can make you happy or very unhappy.
The value, satisfaction, and resentment are all in the actions, not the outcome.
Today is your lucky day, my friend.
Or at least, it could be, depending on how you interpret what will happen.
Today is your worst day ever, my friend.
Or at least, it could be, depending on how you interpret what will happen.
The choice is yours. It has always been.
P.S. I don’t know about you, but weirdly enough, being able to decide over your luck didn’t feel like a relief to me at first.
That’s a good topic for another day…
On Sunday, January 3 2021, motivated by an emotional low point and an article I read on writing “Morning Pages”, I grabbed an old notepad, pen, started writing and didn’t stop until I had filled three pages.
It was the first time in 5 years I wrote something by hand, and the first time in my life I journaled.
I liked it so much that I kept writing every day.
We’re 625 days later now, and I never stopped. 3 pages of Stream of Consciousness journaling a day, 625 days in a row: that’s 1875 pages or relaxing the mind and letting my train of thoughts “stream onto the page”, unfiltered, playfully wandering through my experiences, thoughts, and insights.
But no matter how enjoyable the wandering, lately I’ve been feeling the urge to create something tangible (and valuable) with all those insights and ideas.
Here’s how I envision it:
Daily journaling (Morning Pages) unblocks my stream of consciousness and transfers it to paper, forming the raw material out of which ideas and insights can emerge. In my experience, once I’ve gone through the sea of fluff, I can expect an insight (maybe two if I’m lucky).
Daily sculpting helps me remove all the fluff until only the pure insights are left, and then refine them, like a sculptor chiseling away at a massive block of marble, working to reveal the essence hidden inside of it.
“If you want me to give you a two-hour presentation, I am ready today. If you want only a five-minute speech, it will take me two weeks to prepare.”
– Mark Twain
Sculpting is the hard part. Because when you think about it, the raw material – the ideas and insights – have always been there, just like the famous Davide sculpture has always been hidden inside the block of marble Michelangelo hauled from a quarry in Carrara in the Apuan alps. He just paid attention in a different way and saw what many others didn’t see.
Yet, he wasn’t the only person who had the idea to use a block of marble to sculpt a Biblical figure. But the way he shaped that raw material into something impactful, beautiful, that accurately represents what you had in mind…
That made all the difference.
And it’s a skill that takes a long time to hone.
Which might be why I’ve avoided it for so long. So far, out of 1875 pages of journaling, I’ve published… 4 articles.
Time to change that. From today onwards, I’m adding a “sculpting session” to my day and will publish the result as a “Daily Insight”.
I don’t expect it to be particularly insightful anytime soon. Maybe I’ll never be fully satisfied with anything I come up with.
But when I stick to it every day and arrive at day 50, 100, or day 625…
Who knows how much I’ll have learned about writing, insight generation, communication,…?
Who knows what will have emerged?
Surely more than if I’d do nothing.
Which leads me to the question I’m asking myself today:
What would it feel like if I remove all external judgment from writing and see writing as the practice of exploring thoughts, ideas, feelings, insights, and becoming ever more accurate and impactful in representing them?
My current answer: I’d be focused much more on process and progress, not on competition. I’d feel how I’m getting better every day, not in relationship to others (as in competition), but in relationship to the purest expression of a certain art, skill, or action.
Sculpting away, day by day.
The only future we habitually see for ourselves is the one our past illuminates.
The moment we take a flashlight, intentionally aim our gaze, and look at what lies beyond the shade of the past, we see what’s truly possible for us.
It’s a counterintuitive process.
It takes courage and energy.
It’s what intentional living is all about.
