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Category: Transforming Pain

The Cost Of Being “Too Busy” To Create

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.

For A Lighter, Further, Freer Life

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.

The Beautiful Messy [Poem]

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.

Assembling Flowers

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.

Misery Has No Outer Cause

…It is only ever caused from within.

  • People saying ugly things about you? …Speaks only to the quality of mind from which they came—ugly words come from ugly minds. Nobody can insult you without your consent.
  • The news featuring hateful, horrific events? …Illustrates only the need for its antidote: love. We don’t fight fire with fire. We don’t gouge an eye for an eye. We strategize, organize, and fuel our efforts with life’s strongest emotional resource: love.
  • Living a toxic/imbalanced/unhealthy lifestyle? …It’s supposed to result in misery, because it’s supposed to force you to change. Understanding this emotion changes the emotion. It’s no longer something awful to be suppressed—it’s something caring that’s to be honored.

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.

Story vs Naked Advice

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.

On Creating While Tired And Near Misery

I take my writing streak seriously.

And I can remember many nights when I would get home late, after an exhausting day, have nothing drafted, and be faced with the pain-staking decision of whether I should try to force a creation or rest.

…I can even remember nights when I would arrive to my computer at 2am, barely able to open my laptop, hunched so close to the screen that the blue light might as well have been injected right into my retinas, hazily and hastily trying to replay and recreate a moment or story from the day, one that I could squeeze a drop of insight from, from a frame of mind where all that seemed to be happening was an HD recording of the misery and toughness that I kept choosing to sit in moment after moment… after moment.

…And yet.

In those moments when I did see my way through… I never felt regret for what was created.

See there’s something whimsical and divine about creating in those spaces in between the awake and the asleep state.

…Where thoughts are free to merge together while floating in a dream-like haze.

…Where you’re too tired to care about rules… about perfection… about opinions.

…Where identity and brand melts away and pure life source and collective unconscious remains.

There’s no question that creating while well rested, organized, and motivated is effective.

And there’s no doubt that in many cases, rest will be the better decision made.

…But don’t underestimate the power and potential of creating while tired and near misery.