THE ONES WHO DO WHAT WE DO BECAUSE WE DO WHAT WE DO

In the end, it always comes back to this:

We are not the ones who do the things to sell the things.

We cannot, will not, will tear it all down and eat our own heart alive with a single hand-blown glass chopstick before we do.

We do not have it in us:

– To do the things for money

– To do the things for growth

– To do the things to get there

– To do the things for any outcome at all!

We can TRY to do the things in order to get or have or become the things, and oh BOY do we try!

We try and we try and we try and we try! We are relentless in our trying, and indeed our trying is DOING of the highest do!

We do.not.stop.

We will.not.quit.

We will.pre.VAIL!

Oh yes.

But sooner or later,

(once again!)

CRACCCCKKKKKKK.

Crackity fucking crack, here we go again.

The doing starts to grind to a halt. (It wasn’t REALLY working anyway. I mean … it was working. Just not an a whole LET YOUR SOUL BREATHE AND DANCE MERRILY IN THE WIND sort of level).

The TRYING becomes more and more noticeable.

The continual relentless vibe of pushing a barrow load of the nastiest bricks out there up an endless hill that’s covered in thorns and YOU with your bare feet and all,

just starts to kinda wear you down.

And then?

THANK THE HEAVENS AND ALL THE ANGELS AND HALLELUJAH PRAISE THE LORD IT ALL COMES CRASHING DOWN.

You stop doing the things.

You refuse to.

You quit even THINKING about the things.

You realise, with unshakeable certainty, that the things can go shove a big one RIGHT up the heiny thank you very much because you.don’t.care.

You don’t CARE.

And it’s not what you came here for.

NOT who you came here to be.

Thank you.

Amen!

(Thank God you realised – again! – just in time, before having to do the whole eat your own heart alive thing. You woulda done it though, if it came to it! Better by an ETERNITY than having to continue living like that … giving your life like that … pretending you can BREATHE like that)

So, then what?

Quit the whole endeavour? Go get a job in a bookstore? Lululemon perhaps? Ahhh … it’s a nice fantasy, that’s for sure. Especially if the bookstore is one where people aren’t allowed to talk to you when they come in, or even look!

Except.

Hmm.

Except for that fiddly little thing that won’t go away around, oh, what’s that now?

THE WHOLE MESSAGE AND ART AND CHAOS AND CRAZY AND YES AND THE FLOWWWWW, OH MAN, THE FLOOOOOWWWWWWW OF YOU,

which just has to be unleashed and all.

Yeah. There is that!

So THEN what?

If you’ve realised you aren’t prepared to do the things and WILL not, indeed CAN not, and you simply WILL not work to an outcome, but yet there is work to be DONE, you can feel it, just try and stuff it down, it won’t stay and you HAVE to get it out!

Then what?!

Especially when, to top it all off, you’re the kind of person who wants the monies and knows she gets to have ’em! And then some! Not to mention all the other wild biz success and what not.

Hmmm.

Hmmmmmm.

HMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

Well. There is this. And just a thought, mind you!

WHAT IF YOU JUST DECIDED YOU GET TO HAVE YOUR OUTCOMES BECOMES YOU GET TO HAVE YOUR OUTCOMES AND THAT IS THE WHOLE ENTIRE STORY, AND WHAT IF –

you also just did what you feel called to do each day

you went into the space, you let it become a void, you fell fell fell until you were picked up on the mofo FLOW wave,

because you gave it enough space

and you didn’t try and DO it to get places

because you understood, finally (again!),

that we are the ones who do what we do because we do what we do.

And that is all there is to say about that.

Amen!

And as for the outcomes? Meh. Outcomes, schmoutcomes. Of course we always get ’em. Why?

Because we fucking decide.

That’s all.

Goodbye.

AMEN.

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