Writing routines and diets have something surprising in common. People assume that if they discover successful writers’ routines or healthy people’s diets, they can copy them and get similar results.

People love asking successful writers about their writing routines.

“Do you write every day?”
“On a computer or by hand?”
“How many words do you aim for each day?”
“Do you outline first?”

The unspoken hope is that the routine is the secret.

People ask healthy-looking people much the same kind of questions about their eating habits.

“What’s your diet?”
“Do you eat breakfast?”
“Paleo or Mediterranean?”
“Do you avoid carbs?”

Again, the assumption is that the secret lies in the routine.

I think both assumptions are misguided.

Everyone is different

When I started to write my first book, I read about the habits of countless writers. Some produced a fixed number of words every day. Others wrote only when inspiration struck. Some wrote in silence. Others needed background music or a bustling café.

They all described what worked for them.

Over the years, I’ve learned that my writing process is deeply personal.

Sometimes I write quickly. Other times, I spend days turning a single idea over in my head before putting fingers on the keyboard. Sometimes I begin with an outline. Sometimes I start with a central idea or sentence that won’t leave me alone and discover the structure as I write.

I’ve found exactly the same thing with eating.

Conventional dietary advice has long claimed that breakfast is the most important meal.

It isn’t for me.

After plenty of experimentation, I discovered that time-restricted eating suits me well. My first meal is usually my famous smoothie shortly after noon. I have a salad with some protein for a late lunch, and a regular dinner. I feel better, have plenty of energy, and find it easy to maintain my weight.

That doesn’t make it the best diet.

It makes it my diet.

Live in your own imagination

Several years ago, I wrote that one of the hardest things to do is live in our own imagination rather than someone else’s.

It’s tempting to believe there’s one right way to write, exercise, meditate, sleep well, facilitate meetings, raise children, or eat.

There rarely is.

Other people’s experiences can provide ideas, but they shouldn’t become a blueprint. The moment we start thinking, “If only I wrote like her” or “If only I ate like him,” we’ve stopped paying attention to the most important source of information: our own experience.

I’ve learned the same lesson while designing conferences. Techniques that work well with one group may fall flat with another. Good facilitation begins with paying attention instead of following recipes.

Experiment rather than imitate

Instead of imitating what other people do, try experimenting with this simple cycle: Experience. Feel. Change.

Experience something. Notice how it feels. Change one variable.

Then repeat.

This process works remarkably well whether you’re designing conferences, improving relationships, developing a meditation practice, finding an exercise routine, writing a book, or deciding how to eat.

Real improvement comes from running lots of small experiments and paying close attention to the results.

Not every experiment succeeds, and that’s fine. Failed experiments still teach us something.

Lifelong learning

One of the prerequisites for lifelong learning is accepting that you’re never finished learning about yourself.

Your body changes. Your interests change. And your circumstances change.

The writing routine that worked at thirty may not work at seventy-five. The diet that suited you ten years ago may not suit you today.

Staying curious matters more than finding the “perfect” system.

There’s a story about the great cellist Pablo Casals. When he was 81, someone asked why he still practiced several hours every day. His answer: “Because I think I’m making progress.” That’s the mindset I aspire to.

Keep noticing. Keep experimenting. And keep practicing.

We can learn from other people’s writing routines and diets, but we shouldn’t assume they’ll work for us.

The most valuable thing a successful writer or healthy eater can give you isn’t a routine.

It’s permission to discover your own.

Live in your own imagination.