- Struggle to meditate.
- Struggle to dance.
- Struggle to love.
At our core… these are truth. These are nature. These are pure.
Everything that causes us to struggle is lies… nurture… tainted.
I help busy people do inner work.
At our core… these are truth. These are nature. These are pure.
Everything that causes us to struggle is lies… nurture… tainted.
Think of some of your favorite things you’ve ever created in life—the things people will remember you by.
How much would someone have to pay you to remove that creation from ever existing in your life?
…The thing is: many of us are doing this daily. And for A LOT less than we think.
Think about how many creations have been “taken away” because of extra work or from bringing work home or from being too exhausted to create after work…
Think, too, about how long some of those favorite creations took you to make? …And how much you get paid per hour in your job/career? …And if that creation is worth that price?
For many of us… the answer would be an unwavering, “No.”
And yet… many of us continue to work for that hourly rate at the expense of the things we might’ve been so proud to have created.
This isn’t a call to quit your job. It’s a call to renew your commitment towards creation—in the time you can afford to budget… just like you do so vigilantly for your job.
Nobody is going to make the time for you—especially not your boss.
But if you can be your own boss and learn how to make the time for yourself again… what you might end up with is something far more valuable than anything your boss ever gives you in a check.
Traveling with a bunch of luggage is taxing.
Living with a bunch of baggage is taxing.
Creation… it seems to me…
Is a process through which the items in your metaphorical bags are unpacked… alchemized into some expressive medium… and left there once finished.
As writing an idea frees your mind from holding it any longer… creating frees your metaphorical bags from having to carry them any longer.
…For lighter, further, freer life travel.
I tap my screen
While urgency sleeps
Before important clocks in
As busy decompresses
During the void hours
Mostly nights; some days
To nothing; blank
…Maybe a 12:19
I’ll sometimes sigh
Maybe slouch or frown
But never visibly
Never audibly
Not even here
Will I show it
Not even here
Will it hit my ear
Your name glowing
And only your name
Urgently protruding
Importantly colored; bordered
Filling the void
Pointing my mind
Towards entropy
Away from order
I’ll sometimes crave it
The spontaneity… the drama…
The fiery… the crazy…
The beautiful messy
The epitome
Of the nature
Of the universe
Presented perfectly
In your letters, your glow
My casual touch
Your chaos, your flow
My orderly house
Us merging; the mess
It always ends better
You send a text
And I straighten, smirk…
Though you’d never know it
Because I remember… ghost.
P.s. You can read my other poems here.
You can assemble a car, but you can’t assemble a flower.
A flower can only be grown.
And when you rush the creative process, you start to assemble instead of grow.
Any internet skimmer, quick-fixer side-hustler, AI app can assemble.
…But what we need now more than ever are people who can grow.
…It is only ever caused from within.
To realize this is to realize an unbelievable power.
One where insults, hate, and toxicity no longer cause misery.
…But have no effect on your inner weather at all.
What affects your inner weather is what you allow… what you consent to… what you honor, organize, and prioritize.
Proceed accordingly.
I read a super basic personal development post the other day.
It offered basic listicle style advice (think: S.M.A.R.T. Goals) and included pretty standard examples.
And there’s nothing wrong with this.
But the more I read and write, the more I realize how important story is.
Like… give me some personal context… some uniqueness… make me travel somewhere new… tell me how you’ve fallen, and clawed, and survived… tell me about your North Star; your light. Tell me what got you through the dark… through the dirt. Tell me what helped you… who helped you. And what they said. Tell me specific examples and yes… get into the nitty gritty. Tell me what also fell flat. Tell me a story like this and reel me in. Tell me how you’ve bled.
Teleport me somewhere and make my screen disappear.
Then…
Tell me the insight/advice.
Leaving everything above out with just the few lines of advice does very little for me. And not to mention you’re not even a real life, in front of me human… you’re pixels popping up on my screen. Write something that’ll make me connect with you. In a way that doesn’t extend screen to eye, but in a way that travels eye to eye… where screen and pixels disappear… where the internet and clouds and apps do what they were originally intended to do… and connect us human-to-human with just a few clicks. One mind being downloaded, encoded into 1s and 0s, sent like lightening to the other, decoded back to word and phrases… and read seamlessly within seconds.
Yes… tell me your story.
Forget a few lines of naked advice.