I don’t feel like typing this right now. I’m writing this early Friday morning, after staying up late last night scheduling a post for 8am. This post won’t go live for three days. I could have rationalized my way into an extra hour of sleep.
But you can’t reason with a terrorist.
Which is basically what the lazy, complacent side of me is. It tries to shame me into giving up on important goals. (“Just face it — you’ll never write a book.”) It wants me to throw in the towel. (“It’s not worth all the effort.”) Or it deflates the potential impact of an opportunity. (“No one will care even if you do what you are passionate about.”)
But there’s something about shipping which scares away the demons of self-doubt and worry and lethargy.
It increases confidence and sharpens skills. It conquers goals one bite at a time. And this is why I get up early and strap myself to a keyboard.
And, even if none of my other arguments were true, I have found the strangest truth.
Every time I sit down to type, something comes out.
When I lower the bucket into the well, it always brings up some water. It’s incredible, really.
Sometimes I just start typing and see what happens. Maybe I will have to delete most of what I spent time writing. Maybe not.
Yet I type away no matter what comes out.
Writing is a powerful skill I want to improve. So I am intent on practicing morning after morning, month after month. Becoming a best-selling author is definitely not my priority, but I know writing will be a vital part of whatever Team Ralon does for you, not to mention many others.
Your work is important. Every day when you approach your axe, sewing machine, computer, canvas, or classroom, you need to produce something.
Then ship it for the world to see.
What one thing is most important for you to ship?