You don’t have to feel ready to be a successful writer to pick up a pen or open a document and write today.
In fact, you’ll probably never feel ready to be a successful writer unless you write today.
This means, strangely enough, that despite how you feel in this very moment, you are entirely ready.
Ready to take the first step.
I made an account on Instagram to stay in touch with friends abroad. Now I habitually spend hours a day scrolling through Instagram feeds. Is this a purposeful pursuit?
I started journaling to clear my head. Now I habitually write and publish insights every day. Is this a purposeful pursuit?
Good intentions and purposeful actions inevitably turn into a habit, and that can be a good or a bad thing.
Constantly questioning our actions leads to paralysis.
But once in a while, gaining presence and reaffirming your intentions can be enough to put you back on track.
Ernest Hemingway allegedly stopped his writing sessions in the middle of a sentence so he knew how to start his next session. He stopped writing, even if he could do more.
Julia Cameron teaches to write precisely three pages of stream-of-consciousness journaling a day. Stop journaling, even if you could do more.
I’ve gotten better results studying foreign languages 20 minutes a day for several months than rushing into a new language and studying it for 3 hours a day, then crashing and burning. I stop myself from learning, even if I could do more.
Because burnout and overindulgence stifle progress, and in the long run, moderation leads to more.
I can choose to procrastinate on a project for weeks – then finish it all in one go, right before the deadline.
In absolute terms, I might have been very efficient with my time – but the time I saved, I spent frustrated with myself.
The long-term effect on my self-image: I’m a procrastinator.
What if I work a little bit on a project every single day – and have it finished well before the deadline?
I might spend more time in total – but every day, every moment spent makes me feel good about myself.
The long-term effect on my self-image: I cultivate an identity of discipline and consistency. I do what I believe to be good for me. I build character. Taking small daily actions towards a goal becomes part of my identity.
What’s more: I avoid the frustration and resentment that comes with procrastination (=not doing what I know I should be doing), and feel good about myself instead.
Long-term, the benefits of small daily actions always outweigh huge last-minute efforts.
The dice has been cast.
The decision has been made.
Now is not the time to negotiate.
Some days I have ten ideas to write about. Some days, zero.
But when I lack ideas to write about, the ideas aren’t really gone. I’m in a scarcity state: my brain chemistry prevents me from accessing the insights.
When I feel lonely, friends and family I can connect with aren’t really gone. I’m in a scarcity state: my brain chemistry prevents me from connecting with them.
Scarcity is like pollution.
When noise pollution of cars, planes and construction machines drown out the singing of the birds, the birds aren’t really gone. I just can’t hear them.
When light pollution drowns out the stars, they’re not really gone. I just can’t see them.
So how do I get out of scarcity? How do I reduce pollution?
Here’s what works for me:
Notice I’m in scarcity mode. Then move. Meditate. Do stream-of-consciousness journaling.
Then find a place where I hear the birds.
Find a place where I can see the stars.
Write anyway.
And connect with friends and family anyway.
You don’t need to feel motivated to write a sentence.
You don’t even need to want to write to have words appear on the screen or the paper.
You just need to be reminded that you want to be a writer.
And writers write, just like runners run. Musicians make music. Parents parent. Yogis do yoga. Farmers farm.
Even if they don’t feel like it.
