My morning note I share and unpack the note I often read when I wake up. Very beatnik. But it speaks to me.
This is the note I often read when I wake up.
I rework it regularly.
I cut what no longer works or now feels obvious. I add what I've understood lately.
Fair warning: the current version is... "very beatnik".
Read quickly, it sounds like the kind of vaguely empty New Age lines you'd see over a sunset photo...
And yet I arrived at these phrasings after many iterations.
They speak to me.
So here's the whole note, then I'll go back through the passages to explain why it makes sense to me.
Today
In every moment, I follow my joy, my excitement and my instinct.
I never act out of fear, obligation or guilt.
I turn fear into joy, obligation into choice, guilt into compassion.
The past is a dream. The future a concept. I could be anyone in this moment.
I am always doing exactly what I should be doing.
I don't think about the next action. It comes.
I know that everything matters.I watch my thoughts like a shepherd.
When I feel an attachment, I observe how it plays out in the body.I am always immersed in a creative activity that is my point of contact with the world.
I don't justify myself. I explain nothing. I ask without reason.
I am surrounded by love, laughter and connection.
The world dances for me and through me.
I did warn you.
But let's go through it:
In every moment, I follow my joy, my excitement and my instinct.
This one I talk about all the time, here and in my videos. It's clear.
I never act out of fear, obligation or guilt.
I turn fear into joy, obligation into choice, guilt into compassion.
At first I only had the first line, but I realised it was too... generic. And a bit false.
So I added the recipe that goes with it:
Turning fear into joy: fear often comes from a misaligned belief. It's a signal, if you like. But if, instead of giving in to panic, you look for the belief causing the problem, examine it, even change it... the emotion transforms instantly. Fear and excitement are really two readings of the same thing.
Turning obligation into choice: because, honestly, we don't always have a choice! Work, family, health... But actually, we do. Far more than we think. At some point, if I act, it's because I chose to. So I always try to take a moment in presence to find the part of me that genuinely chooses. To see if I really agree with it.
Turning guilt into compassion: the most beatnik and the hardest! Often we blame ourselves. Or we blame others. Which is roughly the same thing: we think the world should be different. Finding love again means remembering that everyone in this world is doing the best they can – myself included. In other words: this reaction that strikes us as absurd is the best one they've found. Because we're imperfect, fallible and anxious. And that shared weakness should call for compassion rather than guilt.
The past is a dream. The future a concept. I could be anyone in this moment.
This is a foundation of meditation.
Only the present exists. The past exists only in memory. The future only in imagination.
So if I close my eyes and focus on the sensations, the sounds, what the body is doing... I can set aside who I am.
If I rely only on the birdsong I hear, I could be someone else. Somewhere else.
My identity only resurfaces the moment I choose to sustain it through my thoughts and my actions.
I am always doing exactly what I should be doing.
I don't think about the next action. It comes.
I know that everything matters.
Same here: I talk about this a lot right now.
See the related notes.
I watch my thoughts like a shepherd.
When I feel an attachment, I observe how it plays out in the body.
The shepherd image comes from the Buddha, I think.
Another foundation of meditation:
The goal isn't to suppress thoughts. They'll always be there. And we'll never control them.
But we can watch them, calmly.
Most of the time they wander. They pass.
But if a thought becomes too insistent, you handle it. Calmly too.
Not by setting another thought against it – that's where the chaos starts – but by looking for how it shows up in the body.
That was the subject of yesterday's note.
I am always immersed in a creative activity that is my point of contact with the world.
In other words: my activity comes from within.
I find what excites me, what I'm passionate about, I do it, and people join me in that activity.
Rather than letting the outside world choose.
I don't justify myself. I explain nothing. I ask without reason.
"Asking without reason" means not feeling the need to "convince" people.
You ask. If the person wants to, they do it. If not, they don't. No case to argue. Ever.
I am surrounded by love, laughter and connection.
That one seems clear enough.
Though I'll add: I don't want to be surrounded by "people". Or "friends". It's really love, laughter and connection that I'm after.
Which can happen with anyone.
The world dances for me and through me.
This one is both obvious and not so obvious.
"The world dances for me" is something you notice during meditation or in presence.
For example: you watch a leaf swaying in the wind.
Normally you don't think much of it. It's the wind, physics. No mystery there.
But when you step out of thought, out of the physical explanation, out of the usual interpretations...
You can feel a real connection with the leaf. With the movement. With the moment.
You get the feeling – completely unjustifiable from a rational standpoint – that this movement really is meant for you.
That it exists for you. Like a gift.
Then you realise you're not separate from that movement.
That you're part of it.
You are the leaf. The leaf is you.
A little matter and consciousness, in motion since forever.
That's the dance.