“This work haunts me every day, calling me deeper into an integrity I do not know I am capable of. Writing makes me truthful.” Today’s essay was an inspiring bit of truthfulness. And please give the pooch an extra biscuit to enjoy. 🙂
This was so good to wake up too in New Zealand. Still lying in bed going through my emails on my phone and your little meditation popped up. Thanks for the timely (smile) reminder. I've registered for replay because I think it was during the night for me.
Jeff - you're speaking my language. My most alive state of being - of writing - happens when I connect with nature. Outside of that, I still write, but there is a charge that happens when I do it with creation and not detached from it. Your words allow me to play, experiment, squish the playdough through my fingers and keep the shoulds and opinions of "others" at bay. I've followed you for years, read your books, and listened to your podcast, and it was all valuable content, but now ... your writing feels deeper, more soulful, truer. Your writing has changed because - well, from what you have shared - you have changed. All that to say, I enjoyed what you offered in the before, but what you share now is ... evolutionary. Thank you for playing with words and inviting us into your playground.
I protect my precious hour of walking alone in the evening. In winter, it is dark and can be too cold for comfort, so I relish the discomfort. In the rain, I find my skin as the water seeps through and runs down. In the snow, it is a reverie, a celebration in a billion floating flakes finding their way in the world, just like me. In June, the sun stays up with me and sometimes gives a show so that I will stay out longer and walk further. I'm not always a fan of Thoreau, but "Walking" speaks to me, as does Frost's "Acquainted With The Night". It isn't even the walking, it's the bittersweetness of solitude, even in a busy little city.
Beautiful. And so timely, as I am working on a project for grad school about how the only moment we have is now. And now. And now, and now, and now. Thank you.
A good few glances or pokes, I might say; on and off again about the mundane, the arcane, or even the super insane. I really liked this one. Boil and toil - oh boy. I could’ve gotten on with that one, too.
I particularly appreciate your honest declaration about marketing promoting scarcity and urgency. It hurts my soul. I can't go there. There is, as you say, no need to create urgency, as it already exists in every moment.
Here in San Pedro Sula, Honduras, the Merendon Mountains are my sentinel. So often, the rhythm of my day plays out like the changing light across those mountains.
My name is George Geder and I was born, 71 years ago, in New York state.
I currently live in Cabo Verde, Africa and am a free subscriber to your newsletter.
Today, your post resonated with me, big time.
Speaking of time and the 'Urgency of Now', I am reminded of this song called 'Time' by the legendary Sly & The Family Stone musical group. I'd like to share the lyrics with you.
This spoke to me this morning as I prepared to urgently get 1000 words on the screen! God is never in a hurry! Ah, yes, Be Still, my soul.
Thanks Jeff for slowing me down with this meditation.
You bet.
I love this. Thanks Jeff.
You're welcome, Trae. Glad to hear it.
The vibes are palpable.
I love this. I love the way you wrote this. It really spoke to me. Thank you.
Thank you!
Jeff, I so enjoy your company. Thanks for sharing your quiet morning with me.
It's my pleasure, Dana.
“This work haunts me every day, calling me deeper into an integrity I do not know I am capable of. Writing makes me truthful.” Today’s essay was an inspiring bit of truthfulness. And please give the pooch an extra biscuit to enjoy. 🙂
Haha. Will do.
This was so good to wake up too in New Zealand. Still lying in bed going through my emails on my phone and your little meditation popped up. Thanks for the timely (smile) reminder. I've registered for replay because I think it was during the night for me.
Wonderful!
Jeff - you're speaking my language. My most alive state of being - of writing - happens when I connect with nature. Outside of that, I still write, but there is a charge that happens when I do it with creation and not detached from it. Your words allow me to play, experiment, squish the playdough through my fingers and keep the shoulds and opinions of "others" at bay. I've followed you for years, read your books, and listened to your podcast, and it was all valuable content, but now ... your writing feels deeper, more soulful, truer. Your writing has changed because - well, from what you have shared - you have changed. All that to say, I enjoyed what you offered in the before, but what you share now is ... evolutionary. Thank you for playing with words and inviting us into your playground.
I protect my precious hour of walking alone in the evening. In winter, it is dark and can be too cold for comfort, so I relish the discomfort. In the rain, I find my skin as the water seeps through and runs down. In the snow, it is a reverie, a celebration in a billion floating flakes finding their way in the world, just like me. In June, the sun stays up with me and sometimes gives a show so that I will stay out longer and walk further. I'm not always a fan of Thoreau, but "Walking" speaks to me, as does Frost's "Acquainted With The Night". It isn't even the walking, it's the bittersweetness of solitude, even in a busy little city.
Oooh. I like this.
Thanks; it gave me a reminder to take some time to focus on the moment.
Me, too. I'm so glad, Mike.
Beautiful. And so timely, as I am working on a project for grad school about how the only moment we have is now. And now. And now, and now, and now. Thank you.
And now! But not then. ;)
A good few glances or pokes, I might say; on and off again about the mundane, the arcane, or even the super insane. I really liked this one. Boil and toil - oh boy. I could’ve gotten on with that one, too.
Beautiful Jeff.
Thank you.
I particularly appreciate your honest declaration about marketing promoting scarcity and urgency. It hurts my soul. I can't go there. There is, as you say, no need to create urgency, as it already exists in every moment.
Here in San Pedro Sula, Honduras, the Merendon Mountains are my sentinel. So often, the rhythm of my day plays out like the changing light across those mountains.
Just this, with thanks.
This was a delight to read. Thank you.
Bom dia Mr. Jeff Goins,
My name is George Geder and I was born, 71 years ago, in New York state.
I currently live in Cabo Verde, Africa and am a free subscriber to your newsletter.
Today, your post resonated with me, big time.
Speaking of time and the 'Urgency of Now', I am reminded of this song called 'Time' by the legendary Sly & The Family Stone musical group. I'd like to share the lyrics with you.
""Time"
TIME.
Needs another minute
(At least).
Take your TIME.
But you've got a limit.
That girl looks forward To another meetin'.
Just like everydaypeoplelknow
Look forward to another simple greetin'.
TIME.
A bear in the woods looks
Forward to hibernatin'.
Just any ol' player you know
All he needs is a ratin'.
TIME is education,
Even when they tell you
It's sophistication.
You know that TIME
Needs to be a little longer.
Oh TIME!
The universe needs to be a little stronger.
TIME they say is
The answer
But I don't believe it
TIME"
_____________
Obrigadu for indulging and inspiring me.
Asé
Peace & Blessings,
"Guided by the Ancestors"
Love this -- and definitely relate to it! Thank you for sharing.
You bet!