I spend a lot of time planning for the future, five, ten, fifteen years down the line—how to finish the next book, how to pay off the mortgage, how to write the next blog post, where to go on holiday for the summer, what to wear the next day, what will I say in the meeting later today, what to buy at the supermarket to cook for dinner tonight? Yep sounds about right, for I am trying to live a version of life in the fast path; the sort, I am told successful people lead.
In fact I am getting to the space where I cannot differentiate between where I end and my fast path begins. So here I am trying to survive amidst the waves of mind chatter, which threaten to engulf me, leaving me a seething mass of insecurities.
All this despite just knowing that what I must do is stop. Stop and be still and let it all wash over me, through me till I find a space where it is quiet, where I am quiet, I become one with the stillness. And while I am there just be. The space where I can create, where I can follow my heart and write without worrying about the tomorrow or the day after or about the rest of my life.
Its tough to do this with the demands, which pull at me through my channels of connection to the every day life. Yet, if I can carve out a few minutes, a half hour every day perhaps, from within this meddlesome existence, to just write—for then I am grounded, here and now, in the present, and the closest I get to that feeling of utter stillness, for that is my connection with the divine, perhaps that would be a good start?