I'm feeling better.

The muscle aches, the headaches, the weakness... all the flu-like symptoms have pretty much cleared up.

It wasn't that bad, but it was the combination of being sick with my schedule that made it intense.

What really helped me: journaling, yesterday.

Since I'd caught up on everything I needed to do, I was able to write in my journal.

At one point, it was a daily habit, so there were days when it didn't serve much purpose anymore. But yesterday, after almost two weeks without it, I realized once again how important it is.

It's where you can empty your mind and understand through direct observation where the knots are. The ones that have been blocking us for weeks, sometimes months.

An essential mental hygiene habit.

I'm realizing that these daily notes compete with my personal journal.

It's becoming increasingly rare for me to write in my journal. Often because I spend the early morning moments writing a note right here.

But my journal is my engine.

It's where I can think things through without worrying about outside perspectives, others' approval, public success, nothing.

I pour out what bothers me, I describe the obstacles blocking me, I jot down the thoughts I don't want to forget.

Most importantly: I sort through the notes I accumulate throughout the day. I compare them. I draw lessons from them.

But now that my professional and personal activities have both taken off at the same time, I realize I need to be more selective about what I dedicate my time to.

Especially since writing a daily note also competes with my daily video.

So I'm going to do two things:

• Bring back the stats (which I had deliberately stopped) to see if stopping the daily notes would really have major consequences
• Start thinking about a different format.

I absolutely want to maintain an activity here. But I tell myself that social networks are made specifically for what's ephemeral: daily videos belong there.

But here, I could present longer, more polished work that isn't redundant with the rest.

Something to think about.

This is a question I'm asking out loud.

Often, I'm in a hurry and I'm not sure the few words I throw down here are of any interest.

At the same time, it forces me each morning to do the following exercise:

1. Search within myself for what is true and sincere,
2. Express it in a way that others can understand.

In this regard, it's different from my personal journal where I stop at step 1.

Still, I wonder if I shouldn't take all this in a new direction.

I ask myself the same question about my daily videos. At some point, I'm going to get tired of talking about meditation and creation, right? It's already starting.

I think I'd like to create more on a daily basis (fiction, abstraction, poetry?) but I don't yet see what or how.

However, I think the best way to transform this activity is to keep at it. With the same regularity. Keep doing what's easy, especially when I don't have time.

That's how you find what feels aligned.

Sick, with a ton of things to do.

Videos, work meetings, deliverables.

Spirits are good though.

A year ago, I had serious doubts about my ability to make a living. I went through some rough patches. Now, I've found something that works reasonably well.

Overall, I think I've understood some very important things about communication.

It helped me get my personal channel off the ground. It helped me find clients for ChezFilms and truly help them. (So far, the feedback has been excellent.)

But most importantly: it's going to help me better communicate about my own projects.

When I'm a bit more financially stable, I'll be better equipped to bring my artistic projects to life—whether it's funding them, producing them, or distributing them.

But for today, we'll just focus on managing the back pain and headaches during client meetings...

I had my son two weekends in a row in Normandy, so I fell behind on shooting professional videos (which I normally do on weekends).

And since I have meetings almost every day (ChezFilms is taking off, which is great), I haven't had time to catch up on this blog.

And I have a ton of client deliverables waiting.

Oh, and I'm sick. I'm coughing and my back is a mess.

Normally, I add my weekend posts on Sunday or Monday, no one the wiser. But this time, I'm not even going to pretend. We're picking up the journal today.

Have a great week, everyone :)

I still go often to the SACD Writers' House.

To write, to work, for meetings, for screenings. (Authors can rent offices there for free.)

The Writers' House, like the SACD offices for that matter, are places where you feel welcome.

The people who work there are kind, attentive, available.

You can tell that things have been designed to be simple, accessible, welcoming. People are at the heart of it, not just an appendage to a system organized for machines.

It's rare enough to be worth noting.

And worth emulating.

I've already mentioned this, but now I'm going to be radical about it:

I'm going to do my daily videos in a single take.

Two, at most.

In the recent series I did on meditation, I would sometimes redo takes dozens of times because I felt that this or that part wasn't clear enough.

And for meditation, that made sense: I'm talking about things where you need to be precise so you don't mislead people.

But now: no more. It has to be simple. I shouldn't cling to secondary details: if I stutter, if the sound isn't perfect, if I have to correct myself to explain an idea, that'll be just fine.

The goal is for it to be easy. To find the audience that likes this raw, personal, improvised side.

And not attract an audience that likes the very clear and structured side of videos that take me too much time.

It always comes back to the same Arlan Hamilton quote: "Be yourself so the people who love you can find you."

And conversely: don't make unnecessary efforts to attract people who don't love you.

My technique for creating my blog posts or daily videos is as follows:

Either an idea comes to me. Then, if I can, I take out my phone and record it right away.

Or, especially for blog posts, it's the right time to write—because I won't have time later, for example. Often in the morning with coffee.

So I pause and look for what's deep down.

In other words: if I stop all activity, stop thinking, stop planning, is there something stirring deep inside me? Is there a problem, an idea, or a new way of seeing that came during meditation that I could share here?

I always find something.

But recently, I may be reaching the end of a cycle.

My videos about life and meditation have done very well. I'm happy with my posts here, too. But I think I want to move on to something else. When I look deep down, I don't find the same excitement for these topics.

Let me be clear: I'm going to keep posting one video and one note per day. But I mustn't let myself get trapped by what has worked. The source is the inner excitement.

I have to follow my thread—even if everyone unsubscribes.

You know how it is: when I post a photo, it means I don't have time to post anything else...

Especially since this is an old photo, at least 10 years old.

Not related to anything.

Image

But I like it. Taken with a Rolleiflex at the port of Trouville.

To understand leverage in finance, imagine that one day you receive a machine with the following property:

When you insert €100 on one side, a year later, €130 comes out the other.

If you're rational (and greedy), your first instinct should be to try to insert as much money as possible.

To the point where it would even be profitable to go borrow from your friends, from the bank, wherever you can, and put everything into the machine...

On one condition (and it's an important condition): that the borrowing rate is lower than the rate of return. In other words, it's only worthwhile if the bank charges you less than €30 in interest.

This simplified model represents how financiers view companies.

They don't care about the internal workings, only the financial return. And if the latter is higher than the borrowing rate, then it's worth borrowing to invest.

And for me... it's the same thing with meditation.

I realized one day that the rate of return of meditation on my well-being was much higher than expected.

So, it was worth borrowing time from my other activities (which had a lower return) to invest it in presence and clarity.

It was quite a radical decision at the time.

I don't regret it.