Last night, the idea got into my head to skip today’s post. I’m not contracted to be here, either literally or by any promise made to continue last month’s experiment into October.
I thought to myself: you’re tired. It’s been a long day. Maybe, tomorrow, sleep in a little.
And yet, here I am. Because I want to be here.
You can’t force this sort of “discipline”, I don’t think. In line with yesterday’s post, though, and to speak to the power of streaks — I think there’s something to be said for fostering habits that are so deeply embedding in our sincere desires that any sustained daily practice, targeted at those desires, can develop the power to overcome daily obstacles.
Of course, there’s a fine line between finding the will to keep things moving — and forcing the issue. For a long time, I think I did too much of the latter and not enough of the former.
Sometimes we need to press on when we’re tired. It provides a private sort of moral victory, to do so. On other occasions, it’s more prudent to rest. If I were sick, for instance, it might have made more sense to sleep an extra thirty minutes to an hour.
But I got to bed early last night, and slept well. There’s some lingering exhaustion — yesterday was a long day — but I can take it easy and yet still do what I can.
So, here I am.
The reason I think this is important to talk about is because it can become very easy to put off what we want to do, when we are exhausted by our idea of what we feel we have to do. To be fair, the dance is not easy.
Yet there are ways to do what has to be done more efficiently. There are daily sacrifices that can be made that hardly remain as sacrifices over time, because their importance shrink in comparison to what is personally essential — and the room these create can be vast.
Finally, there are boundaries we can place around what we must protect, from day to day.
There are many things I think we tolerate, on average, that general fairness and decency would reveal as intolerable, if we stopped long enough to look at their effect on us in a rational, unsparing light.
To be specific, I see these things as the parade of distractions and triggers, engineered to keep many of us feeling overwhelmed, not enough, in need of reprieve. They are means of control.
By contrast, to follow our creative or other intrinsic instincts — these are not exercises in control, either of us or by us. They are wild, frightening, electric explorations of possibility.
This is why, I think, it’s important not to invite any reason to pause in the journey. To be alone with our desires and to move towards them can be frightening, but the essence of such pursuits bring some semblance of peace, in their truth.
My name is Michael. I am a Writer and Filmmaker of hopeful stories for complex people. Lately, I have been sharing some reflections and stories every morning. Once per month, I send a special note to those on my email list. They get exclusive stories and advanced (sometimes free) access to my work. You can join this exclusive group here. Thanks for reading.