We took Perla, our family dog, out for a walk.
It was a year since the last time we took her out. We have a garden where she can play and run undisturbed, and we don’t have woods or parks at walking distance. But once in a while during the summer, we take the car and bring her to the river.
So, we decided it was time for a small summer trip and some jumps in the water.
So we took the leash, and she immediately understood what was going to happen.
You should have seen her. If joy could have any form or shape, that would be Perla at that moment.
I barely had the time to open the car, and she was already there, waiting to go.
That enthusiasm towards life.
The joy in her eyes.
I want to feel that.
There is something so pure and magical in her look.
How would life look like if I could be a bit more like her sometimes?
“Dogs have boundless enthusiasm but no sense of shame. I should have a dog as a life coach.”Moby
“First is an intention. Then a behaviour. Then a habit. Then a practice. Then a second nature. Then it is simply who you are.”Brendon Burchard
After a few days without my morning apple, this morning, I woke up feeling incomplete. As if I left out a part of me for too long and now I can feel a hole. This small thing of mine is no more a practice or a habit. It is who I am. Or part of it at least.
These fifteen minutes are a way to remind me every morning who I am. Like looking at the mirror so I can recognise my face.
This post wasn’t planned.
I felt my creative wellspring was drying out, so the plan was to take a few weeks off from this practice. To recharge the batteries and refill my ideas’ reservoir. You know, to write something more appealing or exciting to read.
Then this morning, I sat here, and without even thinking, I found myself tapping on the keyboard. It just makes me feel more connected, more in tune with myself. Some go out for a walk, others meditate or pray. I do this. It’s less about the results and more about the practice itself.
Now I’m ready for the day.
Lately, I feel I have the same ideas over and over. The same thoughts.
I don’t know if my creative wellspring has dried out or if I’m cup is so full that nothing more can get in.
I’m writing this post on my laptop, as I do almost every morning.
The same laptop on which I do almost everything else.
I write, read, watch, and talk.
All these things happen in here.
This 13-inches space before me is where my eyes and ears are most of the time.
A small area compared to the world.
Maybe, that’s it.
Maybe I’ve spent so much time before this screen that I’ve boxed my creativity in it.
I picked a card this morning. It has a big word on it.
Maybe this is what I need.
A little shift on the side, so I can see the world behind and beyond this small screen.
Nothing is more inspiring than reality.
Time to go out.
“What is life?”From Nothing and so be it, by Oriana Fallaci
“It’s something to fill up fully, without wasting time. Even if it breaks when you fill it completely.”
“And when it’s broken?”
“It’s good for nothing. Nothing, and so be it.”
A few days ago, in a webinar I attended, we talked about the importance of paying attention to our inner containers. In particular, how important it is to be aware of when they are full. Of ideas, of thoughts, of tasks, of emotions, of good things or negative ones.
Because when we are full, we just can’t take anything more.
Yet, we are so focused on performances that we keep pushing. We need to do more, learn more, experience more, gain more.
And we forget to listen to our containers.
Sure, they are flexibles. But if we stretched them too much, they can break. It’s not always a massive breakdown. Sometimes it’s just a loss of interest in a project or a relationship.
It’s vital to pay attention to the status of our inner containers, so we know if we have to take a break to create more space before putting anything else in.
Yesterday, someone taught me that to understand who I am and how I work, it’s not about thinking more. It is about feeling more, sensing more.
This quest, the one to understand who I am, is probably the most important one in my life. I’ve been struggling with it since forever. I lost count of how many times I wrote about identity and the search of who I am in my morning practice.
The challenge for me is to get out of my head. To experience who I am, even if my mind can connect all the pieces.
A flower doesn’t have a rational mind, yet it thrives.
And here I am.
Thinking and writing again.
Searching an answer that I know I’ll never find.
But maybe, this quest is who I am.
I am a seeker, not a finder.
It’s in this never-ending search that I feel alive.
Don’t look at me for answers, because I have none.
But if you need some challenging questions, I may be of help.