How did you learn to walk?
You probably don’t remember your first steps (how could you?). It’s just been too long since that milestone has passed for us.
But what’s certain is that no toddler walks perfectly the first time.
The first steps are rigid, awkward, and need a lot more work, but that doesn’t mean the baby stops walking.
The same goes for our work.
If the goal is to get better at something, we have to take the obligatory rigid, awkward, baby steps.
Like a great playlist of music you actually like.
Like going for a walk.
Like cleaning up your room for good.
Like organizing your budget.
Like cooking for yourself.
We get distracted all the time, every day. It’s a human thing to do.
Distracted by what? is the variable that sets us apart.
I have another announcement to make, and it’s one I’m really excited about.
If you’re ready to cut through your own noise and join a group of others, please check out www.thehabitfactory.space for the 14 day online workshop to commit to your creative self. Our first cohort just finished earlier on Monday and we all went through a journey of practice, introspection, and learning there.
We’re now accepting applications for our second cohort (with early bird pricing for those who come early). If you want to join us (which I hope you will) you can use the code BEGINNING for a nice amount off of the original ticket price at checkout.
Connection and support is so important, especially now. With that said, I hope you create better distractions for yourself.
More times than I could possibly count, I would spend hours drawing or painting something only to think it’s too ugly, too unfinished, the wrong composition, or it just had all the wrong colours on it. The list of imperfections could go on.
I’d then close my sketchbook or put away the canvas (indefinitely), feeling discouraged to try again any time in the then near future.
It was a long time before I knew it was OK, because drawing or painting wasn’t in the cards for me anyways.
Nonetheless, I’m in my OK zone now. It’s where I feel I can let go and be OK with whatever happens to it.
I’m letting go of the expectation that it will be perfect, or the thing that will get the most likes, or what will be the most original, because I know that I’ll be more OK sharing the work than keeping it hidden away.