Scripting: write it as if it already happened
Scripting is journaling in the past or present tense about a life you haven't lived yet: "Today I signed the lease on the studio. The light comes in from the left, the way I always wanted." The claim behind it is metaphysical; the mechanism inside it is not. Writing concretely about a desired future forces you to specify it — and specified goals are the ones people actually move toward.
The two rules that matter
Present tense, as if it's already yours — "I am," never "I want," because wanting rehearses the lack. And specificity — the scene, the numbers, the names. Vague scripts produce vague attention. One honest page beats three performative ones.
A daily shape that holds
One page in the morning, written fresh — not copied from yesterday. Read it back at night before sleep, when the day's defenses are down. Keep every page: reading a month of your own pages back is the closest thing this practice has to proof, because you can watch your own attention reorganize around what you kept writing.
In Foreword, scripting is a first-class practice: pages become chapters of your story, you can hear any page read back — in a studio voice or your own — and the morning page and evening read-back get their own gentle reminders.