#488 You’re not the one running the show
Even if you know where you want to go.
Often, you’ll still have to bend to the world.
You’re not the one running the show.
Even if you know where you want to go.
Often, you’ll still have to bend to the world.
You’re not the one running the show.
What would you like to become good at?
Why do you want to become good at this? Passion? Purpose? Impressing others?
Are you willing to spend a lot of time to become good at this?
Are you willing to give up other things to become good at this?
Are you making life harder for yourself by trying to become good at this?
Is that worth it?
…
The question that rules them all:
How easy was it to answer the questions above?
You’ve spent your lifetime bumping into the limits of what you deem possible.
And you’ve also spent your lifetime overcoming the seemingly impossible.
Sit. Crawl. Walk. Speak. Read. Find love. Get over loss and heartbreak. Travel. Invent. Create. Learn. Write.
Overcoming the seemingly impossible is what makes you you.
Once you accept that, the question shifts from, “What’s possible for me?” to, “What are you overcoming next?”
I don’t know why I decide to write every day.
But I know writing feels right.
I know it feels like what the person I want to be would do.
Sometimes, that explanation is not enough.
But usually that’s all the “why” I need to write again.
Giving up on your intentions once doesn’t mean you’ll always give up.
Quitting a workout routine or diet once doesn’t mean you’re doomed forever.
Giving one clumsy speech doesn’t mean you’re a bad public speaker forever.
Learning from the past is good. But predicting the future based on a small set of isolated past experiences is overcalibration.
What you used to have was okay – and probably enough.
What you have today is okay – and probably enough.
What you’ll have tomorrow will be okay – and probably enough.
You can believe you didn’t always have everything you needed – but don’t be a prisoner of your past.
You can always believe you deserve more – but don’t be a prisoner of your dreams.
People can think you’re not good at writing, and you can still write – and love it.
You can think you’re not good at writing, and you can still write – and love it.
You can think you’ll never be good at writing, and you can still write – and love it.
Because whether you’re good at something or not is nowhere nearly as relevant as how fulfilled it makes you feel.