Spend a little time each day helping people while you still can…
It’s one of the best ways to ensure that when you need help, you’ll have people who not only can…
But want to and will.
I help busy people do inner work.
Spend a little time each day helping people while you still can…
It’s one of the best ways to ensure that when you need help, you’ll have people who not only can…
But want to and will.
For each of the above situations, there are things I can do to help out. Things I can do to show thoughtfulness and care. Things I can do to make a real difference in their day… maybe even longer than that.
And my bet is, that’s probably true for you, too. Maybe not to the same extent that it happened for me on this particular day… but there none-the-less. Heck… maybe even more so?
My point is… maybe you’re focusing too much on the grandiose or getting too distracted on screen impact… and not enough on the folks in your own neighborhoods and in real life (IRL). The time, energy, and effort invested IRL can have an exponential effect compared to the same invested into screens.
After the death of her mom, Cheryl Strayed turned devastation and grief into self-sabotage.
She blew up her young marriage, estranged herself from her family, and started doing hard drugs—including heroin.
“I tried to wreck my life as a weird way to honor the death of my mom…” she admitted as she reflected back on that delicate time many years later at a live talk here in Buffalo, NY.
…Which I think is a very natural, knee-jerk kind of reaction to such overwhelming pain due to loss or grief in general.
We want to show how much we cared for a person—how much we loved them—by showing how deep our pain goes. And so we make this perverse decision to self-sabotage and wreck ourselves and our lives to display this deep love and care.
…But—and this is such an important but to consider when dealing with a blinding and unrelenting force like grief…
“…What we really need to do,” Cheryl said from the clarity of her further healed and more deeply considerate mind, “…is thrive.”
This is how we really honor the ones we love.
Not by causing further depths of pain and hate.
…But by embodying the depth of that love and becoming the living legacy of the absolute best version of that person. Spreading not more pain into the world—but, joy. Spreading not more hate into the lives of those around us—but, love.
…Leaving us not nearly dead and alone with a needle sticking out of our arm—but alive and thriving and accomplishing unimaginatively impressive feats that’ll inspire not only those around us today… but those in many generations to come.
Laying in bed the other night, I felt a wave of grief and paralyzing fear come over me as my mind drifted deep into the thought of death—the inevitable conclusion and reality of my life.
And I laid there with it for quite some time… Imagining the various ways it all might unfold for me.
I imagined the various ages I could be… I imagined the various ways it might occur… I imagined the types of regrets I might feel…
And it absolutely terrified me.
To think about this unimaginatively impossible occurrence happening only once… getting no do-overs or heads up as to when it’ll all come to an end… being gone for the rest of time as life continues on without me… being forgotten… being nothing…
…And then I woke up the next morning.
And not only did it feel like another chance… but it reminded me that sleep is a type of exercise in death. It’s time spent being completely unconscious and evaporated from reality… and there wasn’t even a single moment of fear from when I fell asleep to when I woke up.
Live your days as mini-lives unto themselves. Fulfill as much of your life as you can from that moment you wake until the moment you sleep. Exercise and familiarize yourself with death. And, as Leonardo da Vinci said, the rest should take care of itself: “As a well-spent day brings happy sleep, so a life well spent brings happy death.“
I am writing to you today with a pretty intense headache.
And I know exactly why I have it.
I’ve been drinking coffee at 3pm-ish every day since I was 14 (which is when I’m usually getting ready to teach Martial Arts for the rest of the evening).
…But, today, like I do every now and again, I didn’t.
Now, I could have poured a cup or popped a pill to make it go away… but, working through this experience is also a part of the inner work journey.
I want to truly feel what my body feels when it doesn’t get that substance… I want to learn how to receive the pain and keep moving forward… I want to learn how to think with clarity even when there’s a throbbing pulse blanketing the circumference of my head.
I’m not going to cold turkey coffee and I’m not advising you to skip taking substances in your life per se.
I’m simply reminding you that not all pain needs to be erratically avoided. Sometimes it’s the pain we’re so avidly trying to avoid that we need to learn how to lean into before we can (finally) grow what strength is required for our next evolved version.
After dancing almost nonstop for seven hours this past weekend… I looked at a friend I was with and said, “I can’t believe there used to be a time when I was too self-conscious to dance.”
The inner work I did to overcome that first hurtle of hesitation—and dance as uncaringly as I was able to on that first night (linked above)—was like a bud sprouting from the shell of its seed.
But, like the growth of any plant (and where a lot of people get inner work wrong)… sprouting isn’t the end… it’s only a beginning.
And since that sprouting, I’ve done my best to grow away from that shell of self-consciousness that was holding me back oh so tightly before… and strengthen the root and body of that flowering thought with as much uncaring dancing as I’ve been able to add to my lifestyle.
And this past weekend, it was as though I had a potent moment of realization that… damn… I think the pedals are starting to show.
P.s. ICYMI you can read the best of what I posted to MoveMe Quotes last week, here.
I went to swat the ball out of another player’s hands while playing basketball the other day and I either bent my pointer finger in a way it shouldn’t have or jammed it real good (or both)… because it was immediately very painful after that swat.
After finishing the game (and when the adrenaline was wearing off and it started to swell), I quickly got it on ice and rotated back and forth between that and movement for about an hour… and then just kept moving it as much as I could after that.
The idea was simple: ice constricts blood vessels which reduces swelling. Movement keeps things, well, moving in the area so that, again, there’s less swelling (pooling) and fresh cells can continue to make their way in to heal and repair (no traffic jams).
When you get hit with emotional type pain in life (or do the hitting which results in pain) following a similar type of response can be helpful.
We ice emotions (cool off) to constrict overwhelmingly unnecessary responses… so we can choose other than a regretful, knee-jerk response… so we can prevent any unnecessary life swelling that might happen when we allow ourselves to act when fully heated up.
We then keep the emotions moving so that we can prevent pooling which can turn suppressed emotions toxic… so that we can create space for other emotions to arrive (healing and repairing type emotions)… so that we can fully feel (and eventually fully release) what’s meant to be felt.
And we do this with space… with journaling… with meditation… with walks… with inner work…
And when we don’t… we get badly swollen and bruised instead.