You’re not embarking on a new journey, you’re already on the journey.
And while embarking on the journey wasn’t your choice.
Today, you have a say.
Not about everything.
But about enough to add some more intention and direction.
Tiny Trust Builders.
If I start learning a new language, I don’t aim to be good.
My only goal: integrate a daily language learning habit into my day, as a habit container, without much regard for progress.
Only when the habit container is in place, and I have built trust of completion (“Now I am the person who spends some time learning a language every single day”), the question becomes: which activities will build my skills most quickly?
I could use my language learning habit container to learn a word a day – but that won’t help me much when speaking.
Within the exact same habit container, I could also learn a chunk a day (a phrase), which I can use in conversations right away. Same habit container, same time investment, but better results.
Within my “writing habit container”, I can write something in a private notebook every day – which is an excellent habit.
But within that same container, I could also start publishing a short article every day. That changes the game.
Don’t try to be good when building the habit. First build the habit container. Once it’s in place, you can start optimizing the actions you take within that container.
First build trust in completion. Then build trust in skill.
In other words: first I become good at learning a language every day. Then I become good at learning a language.
It’s about the way you say, “I’m tired, and I’m here anyway.”
It’s about the way you say, “I’m exhausted, I’m skipping this one, and that’s okay, because I’ll be back on track the next day.”
It’s about the way you say, “Come what may, I’m in this, and from my chosen path, I won’t be led astray.”
It’s about intentionality and elastic discipline.
It’s about direction.
Most of all, it’s about feeling good, not guilty.
Even if you don’t write today, you’ll still be okay.
And knowing that, now you know you’re not forced to write, now the pressure gone, you might as well write something anyway.
Here’s a question Tim Ferris asks startup founders (and himself) when deciding to invest time and money into a new project:
“If, in one (or two, or three) years from now, this whole project has failed miserably… Which assumptions you hold today were proven wrong?”
Tim Ferris
Answering the question first requires defining failure and success.
For my project of publishing a daily insight on this blog success looks like this:
Write & publish.
Edit.
Write & publish.
Edit.
Then write & publish some more.
Good, bad, well-received or not, received or read by anyone at all, it doesn’t matter.
Because first of all, writing is a creative outlet for me.
Second: long as I write & publish consistently, I trust I will get better at writing and publishing.
Finally: I trust that from all that sculpting away, day by day, will come better and better insights.
A pretty low bar for success – which, counterintuitively, often leads to more progress long-term.
Now we have established that:
What are the assumptions that could be wrong if next year, it turns out I failed to write & publish every day?
Here are some I can think of:
Will these assumptions be proven wrong?
Only time will tell.
Until then… I write & publish… then write & publish some more.
I can believe I must understand the theory before I engage in practice, or I can believe that theory makes more sense when it explains my practice.
Theory and practice are partners, and more often than not, it should be practice that leads the dance.
Appreciation arises from contrast.
How can I enjoy food without knowing what it’s like to be hungry?
How can I appreciate the beauty of a painting without comparing it to something I’ve experienced as ugly?
How can I appreciate social connections without being familiar with solitude? (Not loneliness. Solitude.)
Constant connectivity (especially shallow connections through social media apps) without breaks from socializing numbs the whole bonding experience.
Alternating socializing with solitude warms the heart.
Inspired by Cal Newport’s excellent book Digital Minimalism.
