The Paradox of Practice You've been practising wrong your entire life. Not the skills themselves, but the practice of practising. Consider this: you learned to tie your shoes, ride a bicycle, perhaps play an instrument or speak another language. Yet no one ever taught you how practice itself works. You absorbed a model of repetition and effort without understanding the architecture beneath it. Like a carpenter who's never studied the grain of wood, you've been working against

"I'm just not a morning person." You've said it a thousand times. Each repetition carves the groove deeper, until what began as observation becomes cosmic law. You wake at noon not because your circadian rhythms demand it, but because your identity requires it. The story you tell about yourself has become the prison you live in. Here's the beautiful terror of it: that identity you're protecting so fiercely doesn't even exist. Neuroscientists can't find it. Brain scans reveal

You check your phone 96 times today. Not because you're expecting something important. Because your brain has been rewired to crave the micro-hit of novelty every six minutes. You know this. You hate this. You continue doing it anyway. This isn't weakness of character. It's the predictable outcome when Stone Age neural circuits meet Silicon Valley persuasion technology. Your attention mechanisms evolved to notice rustling bushes and track prey across savannas. Now they're bei