About consistency and structure

2026-09-19

I do not have a target for how frequently I write. If I feel like commenting on something, I will do it. Though it turns out that I publish daily and often at great length.

Here is the number of Markdown files I have added this year to my website’s source code, which represent publications:

~/Git/Projects/protlab $ find . -type f -regex ".*2026-.*md" | wc -l
276

And if you are curious how this looks like for all the years I have been active:

~/Git/Projects/protlab $ find . -type f -regex ".*20[0-9][0-9]-.*md" | wc -l
2038

As for word counts, here is the word count for 2026:

~/Git/Projects/protlab $ find . -type f -regex ".*2026-.*md" -exec wc -w {} + | tail -n 1
 208667 total

And the grand total since 2011:

~/Git/Projects/protlab $ find . -type f -regex ".*20[0-9][0-9]-.*md" -exec wc -w {} + | tail -n 1
 2152038 total

Those numbers actually underestimate how much I publish because they do not include the videos I do, which can go over 30 minutes but come without a transcript.

They also do not cover all the technical manuals I write, as those are stored directly in HTML. For a sense of perspective, the manual for my denote Emacs package has ~54000 words, the manual of the modus-themes stands at ~42000, my “Emacs Lisp Elements” book is ~35000, my dotemacs is ~125000… These are silly numbers. You get the idea.

How can I keep doing this? And how do I maintain it for so many years? Fundamentally, the answer is that I am a stable person; stable in my routines, emotions, thinking, and environment. Whatever I do, I keep doing with predictability. I do not have “bad days”. I do not experience brain fog. I do not feel lazy for the things I am committed to. My devotion is unflinching and I am thus inexorable.

Stability comes from structure

I liken myself to a cube. It is not particularly interesting. There is nothing fancy about it. Except that it is stable. However you toss it, it will retain its stability. Compare that to a fine, classical statue chiselled out of marble. It catches your attention. There is something special to it, some “wow” factor present in the art that gave it form. But you are extra cautious to touch it, because you sense how fragile it is.

How can something made out of marble—a piece of solid rock—be sensitive when the material itself is durable? The answer is that stability is a matter of structure. The way the statue is built makes it brittle. A mere push will cause it to fall, leading to irreparable damage.

Our structure consists of what we do in relation to the world. Each connection contributes to how our being is pieced together. Deeds have a compounding effect. If, for example, I drink a bottle of wine tonight, tomorrow morning I will feel sluggish. Which means that I will not tend to my commitments, such as to water the plants and go for a hike with my dogs. If I still manage to fulfil my duties, my performance will not be at its peak. Whatever the case, I will not be as sharp as usual. Which, in turn, means that I will be feeling more sloppy later in the day. And this will produce knock-on effects, each of which will condition my subsequent choices.

In other words, you live with what you do. The results of your actions are not transferable. I cannot, for example, pay someone for them to feel sick in my stead so that I can indulge in booze free from its consequences. If I do not wish to suffer through the sluggishness, my only option is to not drink wine at all. And, yes, this means that I will not have fun of that sort either.

I must therefore practice restraint in one area so that I can remain focused in other areas. This, too, has a compounding effect. By not pissing my vitality away, I have the energy I need to do what I want, such as to write this article. Doing so gives me positive feedback. It sharpens my thinking, improves my writing, and shows that I remain as energetic as ever.

The average one-off affair will not cause longer-term instability. A glass of wine is okay and I have nothing against it in isolation. Though enough of these “it is just another glass” kind of decisions will change the trajectory of your life. Each of those may feel rewarding in its own right, which is why it is not easy to hold yourself back.

The alcohol, for example, goes together with socialisation and interactions with friends who sometimes provide extra benefits. There is an association of factors at play. They form a bundle, which comes with powerful incentives that practically warp your mind: you want the drink because you also desire everything that comes with it. They all reinforce each other.

Short-term versus long-term

There is an inescapable trade-off between immediate gratification and wellness that unfolds over the course of a lifetime.

If I am only thinking about the short-term, then I want to maximise the pleasure right now. So in my example with the wine drinking, I will let myself go completely and overdo it. Maybe not the first time, but will fall into that habit eventually because I do not have anything in the distance—the long-term goal—to help me check if I am moving in the right direction.

Each time I overdo it I will regret it the morning after. Then I will muddle through for a while until I can have more wine at the earliest opportunity. My health will eventually deteriorate as my recovery rate worsens. The pernicious effects will be prolonged and my guilt will kick in to add to the ensuing pain.

Ancient myths, such as of Tantalus and Sisyphus, warn of eternal suffering which is caused by what effectively is short-term thinking. The punishment occurs in the underworld, which Christians would call “hell”. Though this is an artistic device. Do not make the mistake of thinking that you will only pay the price after you die. No! The gods of this world will not bail you out. You will suffer for as long as you are around.

The longer-term approach will not necessarily prevent ultimate suffering. Though it will change the distribution of vitality over the course of the lifetime. Quality on a daily basis will be different, such as waking up with a clear head. The cost, in this regard, is measured in terms of experiences that were never realised. For example, if I do not go to the pub for a drink and stay here writing this on a Saturday night, then I necessarily do not put myself in a situation where I could go on a date.

No matter what you do, there is a cost involved. You gain potentially exhilarating moments at the expense of shortened vitality, or you prolong your vitality at the expense of potentially exhilarating moments. It is a matter of what you want to have. Though understand that you cannot avoid this trade-off: sacrifices will always be made.

The spirit that takes over

Now you might think that there is a middle ground. That you can achieve stability but have fun from time-to-time. I agree, if this is done with care. Though I know that once you descend into a slippery slope you eventually slide and fall, no matter how good you are. Even elite mountaineers perish while hiking.

Plus, I have worked as a bartender for years, which has given me a unique insight into the psychosynthesis of the short-term thinker who, in this scenario, is a serial drunkard. “Give me another round”, they say, “and I will go running for an extra mile tomorrow”. This will not happen. Instead of the extra mile, you will not run at all because you will not even have the power impulse to get out of bed.

When you catch yourself bargaining for more short-term satisfaction with the promise of working harder afterwards, you know, deep down, that it is your carelessness making up lies.

Imagine your careless self as an independent spirit that has an aethereal life of its own but needs a body to experience the world. So it possesses your body with the plan to exploit and abuse it. The spirit does so because you did not reinforce your defences.

Start thinking of aspects of you as independent entities with their own goals. This is a mental device; a metaphor that makes things easier to reason about. You realise how you allow one facet of who you are to control all other facets. One small part gets to dictate what the entire organism will do. Is this what you want?

Do not underestimate the little things

We generally do not cope well with radical changes in our life. They upset our expectations and break our flow. Try to do an 8-hour office job with a keyboard that has a completely foreign layout. You will simply not be productive. Whereas gradual changes gives us the chance to gracefully adapt to them.

Discipline is the same. It is a capacity you develop over time. For example, it is not difficult to move around the house for the duration of one song. But it is actually challenging to do this every single day, no matter how you feel about it. Make it happen without excuses and you learn how even the smallest task is not easy to maintain long-term.

Doing such small tasks gives you a feel for how it is to push against the grain. You can ramp up the difficulty over time until you reach a point that is good enough for you. This process empowers you, little by little. You do not allow your inert self to become that spirit which takes over the body. One tiny thing makes another possible and so on until a critical mass is reached. The single snowflake turns into an avalanche.

Willpower can improve

To build structure, which consists of deeds and how you relate to the world, you either have to rely on your willpower or involve others. Doing activities with other people can make them more fun, plus you can hold each other accountable. Whereas going solo requires that you are strict with yourself.

I think the most reliable approach is the social one. I now have the willpower to do as I want, though I built up the initial momentum by doing team sports (football, in particular). You are there with the others, pushing against inertia. The game is captivating and the competitiveness takes effect, both of which reinforce your commitment to the cause.

Though willpower is not something you muster out of nothing. It must already be there as a fully developed force. And it will be there if you take the time to do the little things right. Expose yourself to the consequences to feel exactly what they are.

Do not take shortcuts willy-nilly. Those are the hallmark of the short-term maximiser who is a perennial sufferer. It is better to do one thing well than a hundred halfheartedly. Remember this idea of being boring. Do not try to overthink it or to make it fancy. Pick the most mundane task you can imagine and do it with undivided attention.

If you commit to anything this way, then you realise that it acts as the organising principle of your vitality. Your entire being shifts towards it, little by little. In the beginning, you have off days and instability. Though keep going. Try something, even if it is not as good as your past performance. The point is to push forward, however awkwardly, not to aim for a world record. Nobody will give you a reward for making the perfect 3-minute walk around the house, for example. Do it slowly. Do it almost half-asleep, if you must. I do not care what: do it.