Trusting the process, despite the outcome

Yesterday a friend asked me to write for a private newsletter with a very short turnaround time. I said yes.

Writing comes in many forms. Personal, to a friend, or on the internet, where the void absorbs and does what it will.

The longer you write, and the more time you spend writing, the more easily you’ll show up and ship when it counts.

In the past year, I’ve written privately for a separate audience, outside this blog. Each time I’ve carefully weighed my words. The process is more deliberate—and more paralyzing.

Years ago I tried guest writing for a popular blog. I couldn’t do it. I froze up and re-wrote so many times that I finally gave up and quit on the assignment. It’s easy to regret that. I don’t. Back then, I didn’t have the years of daily writing. No habit to fall back on.

So when I was asked yesterday to write on short notice for a different audience, I wasn’t sure how it’d turn out. But I didn’t doubt the process—one I’ve repeated hundreds and hundreds of times.

The work took longer. I examined every word. But the process held. A few hours later, I felt I’d taken it as far as I could. Was it perfect? Not at all. But was it where I could take it given the constraints? Absolutely.

This is why I believe in showing up practicing. When that moment comes—however small—you can rely on the muscle memory of all the previous years.