I can’t remember where I first encountered this phrase. Was it from a dream, or some books I’ve read? One thing is for sure: I didn’t see the importance of that five-word sentence until I experienced its wisdom firsthand.
The phrase I’m talking about is: “The practice is the reward.”
I started this blog in 2019 to record my learnings and adventures as a new dad. But more than the content, I love the process of writing. I like the practice of forging my bodiless thoughts and ideas on paper to make them come to life. I like the challenge of applying logic, strategy, and some creativity to make information or stories easier to absorb.
Writing helps me declutter my mind, make life lessons easier to remember, and, in some weird way, regulate my emotions. I love writing so much that I dare say it is my new sport. (And everyone—including my wife—knows that basketball is my first love.)
But as I got deeper into “blogging,” I found out that you can actually monetize your content. That is, to make money from it. I was captivated by the idea. “Making money while doing what I love?” So I started to explore further, and a new world opened.
Suddenly, I was bombarded by new terms such as Search Engine Optimization (SEO), Keyword Research, and Affiliate Marketing. The more I learned, the more things I had to learn. But the bottom line is, if I want to make money on my blog, I need traffic. I need people to visit my website so I can show them some ads, sell a course, or refer them to products to get commissions. I need to build a brand and grow my tribe so I can incur a steady income stream.
That’s when I started to drift away from the core.
The blog was no longer focused on writing. It is now meant to get traffic and make money. I am so sorry that it happened. Because my joy wasn’t tied to the practice anymore, but to the rewards I could get from it.
Imagine a musician who plays only for fame and fortune, rather than love and devotion to the craft. I wrote articles not because I wanted to write them, but because their keywords had the most potential for traffic. I wrote for the search engines and algorithm instead of for myself or those who matter to me.
The truth is, I already quit writing. I worked on this website for five years, and I didn’t get the results I wanted. But thanks to the boy I saw playing basketball by himself under the scorching sun. He kept shooting even though there was nobody to pay him to do it. He doesn’t care whether someone was watching or not. All he did was play. That’s love. That’s joy. I hope I am not yet that far away from it.
And so, this is my reset.
I removed the logos, the ads, and everything that might distract me from writing in this blog. If there’s someone else reading this now, welcome. But know that I am writing this for myself. I am trying to come back to the way things should be: when practice itself is the reward.