Want to get your bother on starting now?
Read the first chapter from my new book for a jolt of fresh perspective and possibility, and a radical reframe on what to do when you are feeling lost, blah, unmotivated, or burned out, in any area of your life or for any reason — even success!
We don’t have enough stories about the cyclical nature of flowing and not flowing, caring and not caring, living with purpose and being bewildered, making stuff and not making anything except our morning coffee, living full of desire and not knowing what desire even is.
We do not have enough stories of how making a life that feels good and alive is a never-ending process of reinvention, of putting together a bit of this and a bit of that, of having something work for a while and then grind to a halt or be taken from us or simply lose its juice. Of muddling around until we find our way through.
From Why Bother? Discover the Desire for What’s Next
If there is one single idea that I believe we need to reject as humans, it is the idea of being done.
The promise that someday, somehow, somewhere, we will arrive where we will finally be… finished. Gleaming with, if not perfection, then with enoughness.
Existing in some kind of steady-state of peace, success, creative output, or whatever it is you seek.
This idea alone can send you into “why bother?” because you will judge what you have done, all the ways you have changed and grown, everything you have created, as insufficient, because you aren’t yet there.
When, in fact, you are there already.
If you will let yourself be.
(Stop and consider that koanlike statement. Feel it in your body.)
There is here, where you appreciate and find gratitude for who you are, what you’ve weathered, and how humbling it is to be human and glorious.
Here is where you get curious about how you want to experiment with life now.
What desires beckon?
Let us remind each other, again and again, that done is a living death, and perfection is a lie that steals from us all.
There does not exist, but thank god, here does.
