A few months ago I wrote something down that wasn’t a post or anything meant for anyone else. Just a page. A list of things I believed when I was feeling steady.
What I care about. What I keep coming back to. What I think is true even when I can’t prove it. What kind of work I want to do and why it matters to me.
It wasn’t polished. Some of it barely made sense. But it was mine, and I wrote it on a day when I felt clear enough to mean it.
I’ve gone back to that page more than anything else I’ve written.
Not because it’s good. Because it’s an anchor. When the doubt comes — and it always comes — I don’t have to rebuild my sense of self from scratch. I just have to go back and read what I said when I wasn’t doubting. And something in me settles. Not all the way. But enough.
I think the problem with figuring yourself out is that the clarity doesn’t stay. You have a good week where everything makes sense. Then a bad Tuesday where none of it does. And if you don’t have something written down from the good week, the bad Tuesday wins. Because doubt is louder than memory.
So you write it down. Not because you’re certain. Because you know you won’t always feel this clear, and future-you is going to need something to hold onto.
It doesn’t have to be public. It doesn’t have to be a manifesto or a mission statement. It can be a messy page in a notebook or a document no one else ever sees. Just the things that feel true right now, written in your own words, before the noise comes back.
I keep mine simple. A few lines about what I believe. A few about what I’m building and why. A reminder of what I keep coming back to no matter how many times I try to move on.
If you’ve been feeling untethered lately — not lost in a dramatic way, just quietly unsure — maybe try writing your own version of this. Not to publish. Not to share. Just to have something to return to the next time the ground shifts.
It won’t fix anything. But it might give you a place to stand.