#495 You just are…
You are not the naysayer.
You are not the euphoric idealist.
You are not your thoughts.
You just are.
You are not the naysayer.
You are not the euphoric idealist.
You are not your thoughts.
You just are.
The moment you stop doing things for what they can give you, and start doing things for who you become through doing them, is the moment you get everything you ever wanted.
Lukas Van Vyve
I don’t write a blog post every day just to have a pile of posts on the blog.
I write because writing is what makes me a writer. And I enjoy being a writer very much.
The blog posts are but a byproduct. Pleasant. But a byproduct.
I don’t practice Stream Of Consciousness journaling every day to write beautiful prose, poems or have amazing insights.
I do it because it calms the mind. Because my life is better with it than without.
And because doing something for 700 days straight shows me that I, too, am becoming a disciplined person. And I enjoy being a disciplined person very much.
The occasional insights are but a byproduct. Pleasant. But a byproduct.
I don’t practice the guitar so I can show the world how well I play.
I play because it’s fun to practice something hard and feel a sense of improvement.
And because practicing the guitar makes me a musician. And I enjoy being a musician very much.
Being able to play a beautiful piece is just a by-product. Pleasant. But a byproduct.
There are by-products. And then there’s what matters.
der Musenkuss (German) The kiss of the Muse
Creativity becomes much easier if you see it as a game of finding new ways of describing what has always been there.
Observing, rather than inventing.
It’s liberating. Because now the game changes from pulling ideas out of thin air to a game of discovery. Observation. Paying attention. Building upon what’s already discovered, then connecting the dots in way nobody else has.
Most of all: listening, when the muse finally arrives and visits you for a kiss.
There’s this voice in my mind
Impossible to ignore
And yet I fill my head with noise
Drowning out
What deep down I know to be true
Do I even want to admit
That this song in my heart
Is not about me
But about you?
P.S.: I’ve observed the same principle in language learning (and wrote a book about the consequences of this mindset shift).
Which begs the question…
Where else would we do better if we observed a bit more, rather than trying to invent from scratch?
You don’t have to change or improve who you are.
But you could develop new parts of your character without dismissing the existing parts.
They’re not the same thing.
If you wouldn’t see overwhelming results in your first 30 days of writing, working out, dieting, or learning an instrument, would you still show up?
Are you okay with small, almost invisible gains because the process of learning, creating, practicing is fulfilling enough in itself?
And if not, could you be okay with that, if you knew it was the key to learning or creating anything you ever wanted?
Some things happen so fast, they catch you by surprise.
Bust most things take time.
And things taking time is perfectly fine.
In his book The Art of Learning (and his podcast episodes with Tim Ferris), Josh Waitzkin, former chess player and martial artist, introduces the concept of “hidden reps” when learning something new:
I think that where the really potent, low-hanging fruit hanging in plain sight lie are in the thematic, are in breaking down the learning process into the core principles or themes you want to work on and doing reps of those. Those are just invisible to people in plain sight.
Josh Waitzkin on the Tim Ferris Podcast: https://tim.blog/2020/03/14/josh-waitzkin-transcript-412/
In other words, find “neglected skills“: situations you don’t often find yourself in and where you haven’t developed a lot of trust and confidence in your abilities yet.
Then isolate and practice them until you develop confidence and trust for that particular neglected skill.
For example, when working on his chess game, instead of practicing the “openings” like everybody else, Josh would isolate the “end games”(the final part of a chess match) and practice only these.
Most people wouldn’t think of doing that; they would always start at the opening (that’s where a chess match starts, after all) and practice the end game only as an afterthought, deep into their practice session when they had already spent all their energy on the opening.
By cutting out the opening entirely during practice sessions, Josh got a lot more “hidden reps” with the end game than his competitors, which led to a big competitive advantage.
This might seem obvious, but in my experience, it’s really quite counterintuitive not to start at the beginning when practicing a skill.
For example, when learning a new guitar piece, it feels strange not to start at the beginning but to pick out a difficult part and practice that over and over again. It’s not impossible, and many teachers will tell you to isolate difficult parts, but my (and many other students’) first instinct would always be to start at the top, over and over again.
Which begs the question:
Where else are we “starting from the top” over and over again, instead of finding and isolating the neglected skills?
Some examples of how I’m trying to integrate this principle into my life:
Neglected skills are everywhere. No matter what you’re trying to learn or achieve, creating the circumstances where you can identify and isolate them, then put in the hidden reps, will pay big dividends.