What we miss about our own beloved Good Old Days isn’t so much the material things they remind us of—wholesome 1980s sitcoms, or musty thrift-store sweaters—it’s the particular feelings those days gave us, feelings which are now impossible to experience.
Cain rightly goes on to point out, that while we can’t feel those exact feelings again, there’s no reason we can’t—right this very instant—enjoy These Good Days. Ten years from now—presuming, of course—I can look back and think with a chuckle: Remember when I spent a couple years going really deep experimenting with knowledge systems. That was a fun exploration.
To live without self-respect is to lie awake some night, beyond the reach of warm milk, phenobarbital, and the sleeping hand on the coverlet, counting up the sins of commission and omission, the trusts betrayed, the promises subtly broken, the gifts irrevocably wasted through sloth or cowardice or carelessness. However long we postpone it, we eventually lie down alone in that notoriously uncomfortable bed, the one we make ourselves. Whether or not we sleep in it depends, of course, on whether or not we respect ourselves.
Sanderson argues you should instead experiment to figure out what combination of motivation, and circumstances, and accountability work best for your particular personality. He responds well to tracking a daily word count in a spreadsheet. Others, he notes, thrive under the social pressures of a writing group, while others lean on deadlines to induce work. The key is recognizing that the urge to avoid hard things is human, and should be expected. It’s part of the process.
I’m filing this under “things I wish I had learned 30 years ago”. Some things I really track, and some things I just do whenever I feel like. One way or another though, it’s important that I be honest with myself. “Do I really want to do this?” …or do I just like the idea of being able to say “I did that”?
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Alan Tran: Journaling, Reflection, and Looking Ahead →
How does the process of reflection and self-improvement shape personal growth and teaching methodologies?
Alan Tran is a parkour coach and collaborator from Raleigh, North Carolina. He’s the founder of Enso Movement and is a director for both the Art of Retreat and the United States Parkour Association. Alan continues to serve the parkour and movement community through active service and outreach.
I carved out the space to de-evolve and reinvent myself. In many ways, it wasn’t intentional by any means, at the start of my personal practices. But in many ways, it was a way for me to redefine who I was, who I wanted to be, and where my work would lead to.
~ Alan Tran (29:36)
The discussion weaves through themes of reflection, journaling, and the impact of vulnerability on personal growth and teaching. Through daily journaling practices, the importance of documenting emotions, achievements, and challenges emerges as a way to identify growth and patterns over time. Cultural connections, like the preservation of family history through photography, also highlight how past experiences inform one’s values and identity.
The conversation also explores innovative teaching techniques inspired by training a dog using communication buttons. This segues into reflections on coaching methodologies, the value of structured progressions, and how spontaneity plays a role in both teaching and personal development. By examining challenges like preparing for workshops under time constraints and balancing intuition with structure, the dialogue emphasizes growth through experimentation and self-awareness.
Takeaways
Reflection as a practice — Journaling and revisiting past thoughts help in recognizing personal growth and emotional patterns.
Cultural connections — Family stories and historical documentation preserve identity and values across generations.
Coaching methodologies — Structured progressions and spontaneity are key elements in effective teaching.
Experimentation and intuition — Creativity and growth often stem from embracing failure and learning under pressure.
The role of vulnerability — Being authentic and open fosters meaningful interactions and personal development.
To me, quality means doing the best you can with what you have to work with. Your environment. Your equipment. Your voice. Your experience. Your level of comfort. All of those things are part of your overall “working with” toolset.
This is something I often struggle with. Terra is writing about podcasting specifically—something I spend a lot of time doing—but I have this problem more generally. It would serve me well to be thinking: Is this the best I can do now, with the tools, knowledge, situation, and skills I have now? If so, terrific! That’s great enough.
This is one of the main obstacles to forming habits. Our hopeful idea of how it will go, and then our disappointment and frustration with ourselves when it doesn’t go that way.
Nerd alert: I’ve always appreciated that Babauta takes the time to craft the URL paths (often called the “slug”) by hand. They’re not simply auto-generated from the titles of the posts. I love that this particular one, about perfectionism, has a single-word slug that contains the word “perfect”.
While writing this post I spun off to discover Grammar Monster. Yikes! Driven by my perfectionism, that’s the sort of thing that I could spend hours in. I backed away from it very slowly.
There is no man, however wise, who has not at some period of his youth said things, or even lived in a way which was so unpleasant to him in later life that he would gladly, if he could, expunge it from his memory. But he shouldn’t regret this entirely, because he cannot be certain that he has indeed become a wise man—so far as any of us can be wise—unless he has passed through all the fatuous or unwholesome incarnations by which that ultimate stage must be reached.
Granted, cultivating a slipbox is a lot of work. This morning, as I regularly do, I was rereading journal entries. A year ago I had made note of a book, Trust Yourself, and how it had spurred some specific thinking. Finding mention of the book in my journal caused me to reflect on what I had written: Was it still accurate? Journaling for the win.
I had also made a little note, “(2tu1)” of the book’s slip in the slipbox. It took only a moment to flip there… and to discover I had written out 9 slips under the book with some take-aways and key learnings from the book. A crash refresher on the book, completely unbidden; A gift from my self-from years past.