#306 You’ll be okay
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.
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.
656 days ago, I started writing 3 pages of stream-of-consciousness journaling a day.
That’s an inner dialogue of 1968 pages poured into piles of journals now safely stuffed away.
30 days ago, some of those thoughts started making their way to my blog.
I promised myself that if I made it to 30 daily posts in a row, I would start sharing them.
Today is the day, so here goes.
I’m sharing daily observations about language, language learning, memory, creativity, habits, discipline, the art of learning, tools for thought.
Lessons I’ve learned.
Insights I’ve earned.
Words I’ve heard.
Memories spurred.
Books I’ve read.
Poems flowing out of my heart and head.
No rules, no fixed topic, no niche, no marketing strategy.
Nothing but whatever’s on my mind.
I’ve learned a lot so far, but the most important insight: there’s power in publishing imperfect work.
Because if I allow myself to create something imperfect every day, I’m certain that someday the sum of all these imperfect creations will be something I’m proud of.
It’s liberating.
Maybe there’s liberating power in reading someone else’s imperfect work too.
I can’t wait to find out together with you.
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A rough morning doesn’t mean a rough day – but it could.
A pleasant morning doesn’t mean a pleasant day – but it could.
Your story has drama. Suspense.
New seasons. Old friends.
But your story never stops.
It will be remembered.
Which means there’s no beginning. And no end.
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?
If only you could pierce through the veil
See what’s on the other side
Which aspirations are pipe dream
Which ones you must pursue
If only certainty would be your share
If you’d know what, how, where
Would you really be happier?
Or would life lose it’s flair?
If, in defiance of every limiting belief you have about yourself, you started to write every day, and you’re sticking to it, what else can you do that you previously thought impossible?
This is how the world becomes your oyster.
You’re a writer now.
And that means you’re starting to have a shot at being a good writer.