What do you see that others don’t even notice?
What do you feel that others don’t even seem to care about?
What do you like to do that most others never even entertain?
What do you write about that most others haven’t even considered?
And instead of seeing such differences as a societal warning sign, discouraging you from pursuing it…
Can you see them as an encouraging sign of unique contributions you’re about to make?
Embrace your individuality.
I like to journal in the morning.
But if I’d journal in the evening, this is what I’d ask myself:
“Were my actions today actions of the person I choose to be? Or were they actions of a person driven by old patterns, habits and limiting beliefs?”
“Did my actions bring me closer to where I choose to go? Or did they keep me stuck in a place I really don’t want to be anymore?”
“Did my actions make me feel good about myself? Or did they make me resent myself?”
What can I do differently tomorrow?
If you truly believe you can write every day – not that it is generally possible to write every day, but that YOU can write every day – you would be doing it already.
So if you’re not, ask yourself:
Do you believe YOU can write every day?
If not, why not?
Is it physically impossible for you to write something every day? A page, a paragraph, a sentence… a word?
Deep down, you know the answer to that question.
And now we’ve established you can write every day; what other excuses come up?
That the work won’t be good?
That the words won’t capture what you want to say?
That you’ll disappoint others?
That you’ll disappoint yourself?
Put words to your fears, then ask yourself: what would happen if they all came true?
Would that stop you from writing? Or would it liberate you?
Would you maybe be just fine?
What would it be like to have overcome your fears and still be writing anyway?
Only one way to find out…
Write. Every. Day.
Learning a skill isn’t so much about getting better – that’s just a side effect.
It’s about discovering new ways of doing the same thing – just because you can, and just because you’re curious.
Doing the same thing, this time precisely – then doing it again, not precisely at all.
Doing the same thing, this time deliberately, carefully thinking about every step – then doing it again, not thinking about any steps at all.
When you stay curious, you learn to discover nuances you couldn’t perceive before.
When you stay curious, you learn to be deliberate until you can be intuitive.
When you stay curious, you learn to become less blind to what’s already here.
And when you stay curious, you realize there’s not much more to a fulfilling life than sculpting away, day by day – and anything can be a fulfilling skill.
All in on getting fluent in a foreign language?
That’s a 6-12 month game, at the minimum.
All in on learning an instrument?
Count on a multi-year (or multi-decade) game.
All-in on getting in shape?
That’s a life-long game.
This is not a poker game. You’re not trying to impress anyone. There are no opponents to deter. Not everything hinges on one big moment where you can win or lose it all.
You’re not only all in the moment you decide you’re all-in. You’re all in for the entire journey. That means: making your efforts, resources, and motivation last.
All in means preparing for the long game.
Choosing small daily habits over grand gestures.
Choosing consistency over completion.
Accepting that whatever you go all in on will inevitably change your identity.
Now you’re all in on life, and who you aspire to be.
Becoming disciplined is simple: persevere more often than you quit.
You don’t always have to persevere. That’s an impossibly high standard.
Just stick to your habits and projects more often than you quit.
Then let cognitive dissonance do its work: your beliefs will start shifting to align with your actions.
You’re a go-getter now.
If you knew you’d always feel unsatisfied with what you write, would you still let satisfaction play a role in your writing process?
If you knew your writing would always be criticized by others, no matter how good it is, would you still let their criticism determine whether you should publish?
If you’d take the fear that stops you the most and rob it of its power, would you write and publish more?
