Diggin' Ditches Feed

in the middle of nowhere


There are days like today, where I feel like I’m in the middle of nowhere.

It’s not that I have done something wrong or that I’m not doing something right. It’s just that sometimes, life gets a touch monotonous, without any signs or inclinations, and it’s at those moments that I seem a bit lost and a whole lot of anxious.

It feels like I’m in the middle of nowhere.

Tumble weeds. Corn fields. A wide-open road and nothing in sight for as far as the eye can see.

Nothing seems terribly concerning though and that seems to be part of the problem.

Fighting fires and rushing from one crisis to the next, is far more exhilarating, but finding yourself in the middle of nowhere, offers none of the adrenalin or endorphins a good crisis can generate (made up or otherwise).

Those unassuming, uneventful, one foot in front of the other, can in time become very troubling.

They feel so wrong. Like I should be doing something. Doing anything.

Doing more.

Like I have missed and forgotten something.

Like I should be working harder. Planning more. Wishing more. Moving things from one place to another, even if they don’t need to be moved. That I should be checking things. Double checking things. Cleaning. Purging. Moving some more. Somewhere. Anywhere.

Constantly moving.

Until you get tired. Tired of moving. Hoping to get out of nowhere.

But doing so is counterproductive and harmful.

It helps to know being nowhere is sometimes the best place to be and it releases some of the unpleasant anxiety.

(Some of it).

It still doesn’t feel right, but it feels much better later, when I look back and feel grateful for saving myself from spinning a narrative and creating drama not worth the performance.

I feel grateful that I don’t have to undo or double back and begin anew.

Made up problems will certainly get you out of nowhere, and they are tempting, that’s for sure, but they will only put you on a trajectory course toward somewhere, where you don’t want to be.

When life becomes predictable and monotonous, when it becomes a matter of routine, sometimes the shortest way out, is the long way through.

You will never see a magic exit. There is no secret ladder. No secret path.

The middle of nowhere is not a place to run away from.

It’s just the middle of nowhere.

It’s a place like no other, and it too will pass into the distance.

We love starting and finishing things, it feels so great, but it’s the stuff in the middle that give us the biggest cause for concern.

It’s the stuff in the middle that will make the biggest difference.

Being stuck nowhere is a sign that we’re actually going somewhere.

How you handle yourself in the dark cold days of winter, when everything plays dead, determines with what tenacity you will embrace the coming of spring, when it finally does arrive announced.

When spring and summer comes, will you be exhausted and tired from all that worrying and waiting? Or will you be ready to welcome them with open arms?

How you respond to life in those quiet moments, when she is determined to show you what is going to happen next.

She loves a cheerful giver. A patient teacher.

She watches your every move, when you’re alone.


In the middle of nowhere.


lily pads


There is a shadowy force in our life that is always working against us. A power that wages war against our dreams. Trying to slow us down and grind our efforts into dust. Hoping to lure us into taking the easy road, into resigning ourselves to a life of quiet reservation. A comfortable life, where we stir up no more trouble and abandon our foolish desires for things that hang out of reach.

We must battle these forces. We must rise up against them, because otherwise, nothing ever happens. It’s as though life demands to know how serious we are. How focused. How desperate How truly deserving.

Life demands to know what cost we are willing to bear.

The spoils of war go to the last woman standing.

Steven Pressfield calls it the resistance.

Seth Godin calls it the Lizard brain.

A carry over from our evolutionary human history, which means well and aims to keep us safe. Safe from things we no longer need to be protected from. Safe and hidden from opportunities and great personal success.

One of the strategies that this mysterious force (this Lizard brain) employs against us, is very subtle.

It uses the multiplicity of dreams to slow down and destroy our work.

It’s been over a year since I made the commitment to write every day, in the hopes of publishing Quintessential Quotables, along with Diggin’ Ditches, sometime in 2018.

Recently though, my mind has been flooded with passionate desires to write fiction. To abandon what I have been doing and take a new direction toward writing some great detective stories.

I have always been in love with Sherlock Holmes, especially the BBC version with Jeremy Brett, as the great detective.  

I have been thinking and dreaming about how great it would feel to create a new memorable series of quintessential characters. To immerse myself in a fictitious world responding to my every whim and desire. To abandon this madness of non-fiction. To breathe life into something else. Something new. To give birth to a better dream.


How glorious that would feel? How great it would be?


But that is exactly the danger.

This is exactly how I’ve managed to muck things up in the past, by abandoning every endeavour I have ever attempted.

I never finished anything.

Like a young frog, at the precipice of spring time, I kept on jumping from one shiny lily pad to another. Hoping that happiness and success, was only one hop away. That the fulfilment of my dreams was dependent on landing on the right one.

The truth is that we have nothing without finishing what we start.

We need to resist the temptation to begin something new, before we have a chance to finish what seems old.

Only by being done. By being finished. By reaching the end, can we take the next step and know if we made something worthwhile. If our dream will come true. If we are on edge of greatness or defeat.

But without the end, without persistence, we can be falsely seduced to a perpetual life of distraction.

Without honouring our original commitment, we will be left with nothing but frustration and questions of what went wrong.

Regardless of our effort, we need to produce a result. We owe it to ourselves to discover if we’ve made something good, or if it’s a bit funky, and we need to make something else.

Shiny bright lily pads are seductively distracting.

None of them have intrinsic magical powers.

Running from here to there seems like progress, but it’s a trap.

The best way through, is just to stay where you are, and keep doing what you’ve been doing.

I know it doesn’t sound particularly exciting and that’s because it isn’t.

It’s work.

Just gold old fashioned, boring, hidden work.

That’s what you need to embrace the most.

Don’t get seduced by anything else.

Don’t get tired hoping from one lily dream to the next.

Get tired finishing something that you started.


do something


You can do something.

Yes you can.

I didn’t say anything and everything.

Trying to do everything or anything is a trap for perfectionists and procrastinators alike. The former works with great intensity, but never gets anywhere, because there is always everything to do. And the latter, gets nothing done, because they are never ready, forever waiting, never feeling good enough, for anything.


Anything is like foolishly grasping for a cow’s teat in the dark, when you know, you’re lactose intolerant.

Everything is simply unrealistic and stupid.

So, go and do something.

Something doesn’t have to be perfect, but you do have to begin.

You have to begin today.

Remember, that you don’t have to be great to begin, but you do have to begin in order to be great. (Zig Ziglar)

So, start right now.

Without excuses.

Find something to do. Something purposeful. Something meaningful. Something that will reimagine your life and give you a second childhood.

How, you say?

It doesn’t matter.

Think back to your early years and begin there. Look for your dreams. Look for any forgotten pinky swears. Look for things you promised you would do. Look for something that you might have forgotten, which made you feel so good inside. So happy. So alive. So divinely human.

On a piece of paper, perhaps in a stream of consciousness, write down anything and everything that comes to mind. Somewhere in the distorted anythings and everythings, you will find your something.

You will discover your something. Your purpose. Your new direction.

I had forgotten how much I loved to write.

For the last eighteen years, I devoted myself to teaching young people how to become better writers and thinkers, but in the process, of making a very comfortable living, I forgot to write myself.

I found my something.

I’m at the beginning steps of writing something. A hesitant beginning towards something great.

I don’t know where I am going, or what I am really doing, but when I look around, I see painters, musicians, and other writers, doing their thing, every day.

Writing is difficult enough, and to be rewarded and blessed by making a living at it, is infinitely more so.

Part of me is scared and uncertain but I have carefully avoided the trap of everything and anything. I have begun. Begun to do something.

This blog is my something. Quintessential Quotables and Diggin’ Ditches is the next thing.

I write every day.

I reach my word count. I ship it, and awkwardly begin the process of telling the world about it.

My steps are unsure, reserved, cautious, but purposeful.

My hope for you, is that you do something too.

It really doesn’t take much, to do something. To do something every day.

To dream. To plan. To learn. To be and do.

Don’t get overwhelmed with everything and settle for anything.

Become something. Dream something. Dig something. Fall in love with something.

Become something you were meant to be.

Be great one day, but begin today.


for what?


For what?

Why do you work so hard? Sweat so hard? Stress so much?

For what?

Why do you do it?

For Money?

Expanding all that magnificent effort, so you can gather a few bills in one place, and watch them grow?

But it’s not really about the money, you say. You work hard to provide the necessities of life, and to do otherwise, would be utter foolishness.

You need all that money, to fulfill all your many physiological needs.

To quench your thirst and soothe your hunger. To keep your head out of the cold, and away from the rain, sleet, and snow.

These are basic needs.

Needs of safety. Needs of belonging. Needs of a self-esteem. Needs of becoming self-actualized.

And it’s a hierarchy, don’t you know. You cannot really get to the next level without having mastered the previous one. You can’t be fully human, unless you work hard, and sweat hard, and stress, oh so much.

Those are signs of progress. Wounds of respect.

And so, you give your life for a what. You fight and cheat for a what. You stay up late at night worrying about the what.

For what?

Motivated by it. Obsessed by it. Controlled by it. Overwhelmed by it.

But shouldn’t you think about the who?

Who, not what.

Shouldn’t you work hard, so you have the time and means to spend it with the people you love? But if the work you do, drives you crazy, makes you wake up before them, and return home after them, don’t you think it’s about time to ask why you do that work in the first place?

Don’t lie. Don’t say you’re sacrificing yourself for them. You’re not a soldier. You’re not a revolutionary. You bang keystrokes all day. You move paper from a to b. You pick through, looking for the best donut, before another, useless, and too all-consuming staff meeting.

Your children want their mother and father. They do, but they squawk like a hungry baby bird in a nest calling for supper, and demand all sorts of things. Things, if you work so hard to get, they will soon forget.

You wife and husband too. They want you. Not what you provide but who you are.

Your parents and grandparents, also want your company.

They want your time. They want to share their life with you, and in turn have an opportunity to bask in the life you’ve created.

It’s not the what that you should focus on.

It’s the who.

Who matters in your life? Who is in your corner? Who deserves your time? The best part of the day? Your most rested self? Your best self? Your unconditional self?


In the Kite Runner, Amir asks Hassan, if he would do something for him. Hassan answered, “for you, a thousand times over”.

How beautiful.

How perfect.

For you, a thousand times over.

Life demands that we work hard. It is our calling. Our responsibility. Our destiny.

But life doesn’t tell us why.

So, what will it be?

When you go to battle today, will you do it for a what or a who?


this is the end


This is the end.

The end of a year of Diggin’ Ditches.

A bitter-sweet end, but a most joyous end, none the less.

I really didn’t see this day coming. When I started writing and sharing my thoughts at the beginning of this year, I was only concerned about not slipping into my old habits, or reverting back to the person I no longer wished to be.

A year has come and gone and I have faithfully and dutifully written every day, or much as I possibly could have imagined. My little, hesitant, and sporadic writing steps, have grown steadier over time, and have now become, most dependable.

I have proven many things to myself. On this quiet, insignificant, and lonely journey.

Writing is a lonely journey. A most frustrating symphony, but a very joyous work.

I have learned that I can wake up at 4:02 am every morning, with a smile on my face, and embrace weight training, like it’s the last piece of cheesecake in my line of sight.

I have learned that it is possible to take away all emotions, suspend hopes, and must all dreams and simply retreat. Retreat to a place where all you do is follow a plan and dig ditches.

I have learned that you just wake up. Tired. Rested. Hopeful. Defeated.

No matter.

You just wake up, because it’s your time. It’s your moment. You make it your moment.

You wake up when its dark. You wake up when everyone else is asleep, and you get to work.

You get to work on your body. You get to work on your mind. You get to work on your soul.

You pick up your imperfect shovel and you heave, one pile of dirt, upon another. You transform your life, from that of a passive dreamer and observer, into a life of a professional dirt slinger.

I am a dirt slinger.

A ditch digger.

A Digger-Slinger?

I am definitely confident. Confident to finally admit that I am a writer.

A good writer?

I am hesitant.

That promotion rests in the hands of time and the bank accounts of my future readers.

This year I have wrestled with writer’s block. With my inner demons and very powerful temptations to quit. I have debated bringing this misfit blog to an end, because after a year or so, so few people have read it and care anything about it. 

I want to thank them.

Thank you.

Thank you for your time. Thank you for your comments and private messages of encouragement throughout the year. It has all meant so much to me.

I cannot tell you how much you mean to me. I will be eternally grateful for your confidence in me. And the life you have help me forge.

I fought the good fight this year. I have run this race, right to the very end.

The end of 2017.

And every finale brings with it seeds of something new.

So, this is only the beginning. The beginning of year two.

A year, that will be as challenging and as surprising as the last, because I don’t imagine the dirt getting any lighter.

This will be a year I cannot see. I year I cannot imagine. A year I am unable to predict or understand, until I have lived it. Until I dig more ditches. Until I work, and sweat, and pray, and overcome, whatever I am meant to overcome.

This is a five-year journey.

This blog will end, but not today.

Ten Minas will end on the last December day of 2021, because as a writer I want to execute the final chapter. I want the credits to roll. I want the story to be complete. I don’t want to just suddenly disappear.

So, this is the end.

The end of proving that an amateur who has never written anything, for the first forty- five years of his life, can wake up early each morning and before he begins his other life, has the inner strength and ability to share his thoughts with the world.

The world as he sees it.

The world as he wants it to be.

Thank you for reading my thoughts, dear friends, and fellow tribe members.

Thank you, and blessings to you, on your own journey.


May the road rise to meet you,

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face,

The rains fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

sharpen your knife


It’s almost impossible to cut through life with a dull rusty knife. No matter its size and regardless of your stubborn strength of purpose.

You just can’t rely on habits you don’t have, or care to sharpen regularly.

But it’s really quite simple.

Simple to think and say, certainly. Simple to imagine and dream, surely, but far more difficult to execute and put into action.

That is our struggle. Especially when the initial excitement of the moment is all but left for dead, in a ditch somewhere, by the side of the road to success.

So, you must dig your ditches and take your lumps. You must follow orders. Without compromise. Without consulting. Without fanfare. Without anticipating the lunch time whistle.

All successful people trust their life to their habits.

Those habits are life changing and require much hard work to build, but they are not as distant or impossible to embrace, despite the stories you tell yourself.

You can build and become whoever you damn well please.

Most people are defeated before they begin.

They think they can’t. They feel they can’t. That they’ll undoubtedly fail because they are fighting unbeatable windmills. It’s no surprise than, that their dutiful mind delivers everything as planned, and on time.

Failure and disappointment. Another example why they can’t.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

Take a step. A step towards something or a step away from something. Building a habit or breaking a habit requires the same bravado.

If you’re looking to lose weight. Chew your food a little slower. Keep it in your mouth like you put it there for a reason and turn it into mush. Don’t stop until you’ve sucked all the taste out of it, like a flavourless stick of gum. Repeat. Until you no longer think about it. Until you no longer drive the habit, but the habit drives you.

When you master one thing, keep going, and master another.

You’ll drop things, forget things, and break things.

No matter.

Keep digging.

Simple steps. Simple changes. Repeated over and over again. One building upon another. Brick by brick. Rep by rep. Becoming stronger and deeper. A chorus of voices that will eventually lead you to places you never imagined.

But don’t forget to sharpen those habits.

Repetition moves our habits forward, but over time it dulls and rusts our resolve.

You begin to question how you got here. Why you are doing this. What the point is, and how great it would feel, if you just stopped and took a break. Or did that thing you know you shouldn’t, just one last time, because you’re stronger now, for just a little while.

If you get the urge to stop, don’t.

It’s time to sharpen your knife.

Change is what keeps us sharp. The quiet revolution of doing and thinking things differently. Of being open to new possibilities and realities.

It is always change that sharpens our resolve. Change gives us laser focus and revitalizes our tired habits.

The very thing that scares people, is what ultimately heals their life. It will help them avoid what is weighing them down, and uplift them into new adventures.

Don’t be afraid to begin something new. Don’t be afraid of building a new habit.

Stick with it. Work at it. Don’t stop.

When it’s time, don’t forget to sharpen, to adjust, to change your habits.

Change so that you can hear yourself say that you can, and no longer behold the illusion of you can’t.


now what?


You’re all dressed up with no-where to go.

So, now what?

You did everything right.

You worked hard. You showed them what you can do. You demonstrated your confidence and vision. You prepared the way you were supposed to. You even received timely reassurance from all the people in the know, that you’ve got this.

You dreamed about it. You kept your mouth shut about it. You patiently waited and waited.

Then you heard.

You’re not it.

You’ve been passed over.

You’re all dressed up with no-where to go.

So, now what?


Stand still. Don’t second guess yourself. Don’t doubt. Don’t buckle. Don’t despair. 

Realize, once and for all, that someone else’s decision doesn’t change who you are, or where you want to be. All it means is that you are not for them.

For better or for worse. Time will tell. But you are not for them.

They rejected what they believed you to be, but they don’t really know you. They couldn’t possibly understand who you really are. They cannot really see what your presence and energy would have brought into their life.

They will never know.

As much as it stings right now. As much as you’re disappointed. Take heart in the fact that this won’t last long.

They didn’t want to dance with you. True. But that’s because they didn’t know you. But if you are honest with yourself, you don’t really know them either. Just because they were there, seemingly available and you wanted a dance partner, doesn’t mean that you were right about them either.

You might have an unrealistic vision of them, just as they had a distorted vision of you.  

So, I think you should go out and celebrate.

You’re all dressed up anyhow.

Not in a bitter, supersensitive, antisocial, passive-aggressive kind of way.

Go and celebrate the beginning of a new direction.

Remember that you are playing in an infinite universe, playing an infinite game, with an abundance of resources and possibilities.

This is not the end, it’s simply a pivot. A change of wind. A new weather pattern.

This is the moment that is trying to show you who you’re becoming and how much you’ve changed.

Life is not a test. It is not a series of right and wrong turns. Or a set of misguided or misdirected decisions.

The object of living isn’t to reach a particular end, with this or that under your arm, or with this or that crowning achievement. Living isn’t about being where you’re not wanted.

Life is not a test, and it’s not an intense game either.

Life is an infinite contest.

A game we play, so we can play again.

Take heart in who you are. Take heart in where you have been, who you’ve become, and who where you’re going.

Nothing has changed.

Just the direction.

So, take heart and continue to look forward.

Don’t look back.

Go out and find a new dance partner.


entanglement with Latin


I don’t really want to write about yesterday, but now that I have some food in my belly and the coffee is aromatically tickling my senses, I am open to the possibility.

I’m not sure if this will have any value, but I have learned that I cannot be trusted to see the value of what I write or what purpose it will serve. What I see and what you see, seem universes onto themselves. I have learned to let things be.

My task is not to waver, to let go, and come back to write tomorrow.

4:02 am.

The time I choose to wake up every morning.

As much as that time scares some people, today, I eagerly anticipated its arrival.

Yesterday was a shitty day.

I usually don’t express myself in Latin, but I’ve searched and searched for better way to express myself and came up blank.

I’m not sure what happened yesterday.

I just gave up.

Overcome with terrible pangs of loneliness. Preoccupied with the unrelenting onslaught of wave after wave of anger, I ran away from my family, and hid in plain sight, on the couch, by the kitchen table, and on the sofa.

I shut down.

I haven’t shut down like this in a very long time. My body was well but my state of mind was sick.

I called myself many names. Troll being the nicest, if I am to avoid more entanglement with some Latin verses.

I am a forty-five-year-old man and yet, I still berate myself.

I refuse to make eye contact. I interpret everything with a bitter tinge. I tell myself that I am worthless. That what I write is stupid. That I am a failure as a father. A failure as a husband, and a fraud of a human being.

And then later, when the storm subsides, I ask myself if I am finished?

I’m not really sure where the new confidence or outlook on life is coming from. Perhaps it’s the weight training in the morning. Perhaps it’s the commitment to write every day.

It might be the hour or two of motivational talks I hear every morning. Perhaps it’s the good books I am reading. The gossip I have avoided. The television I don’t watch. The social media I ignore. Or the people I have surrounded myself with.

I’m not really sure what’s working, but I am mightily vigilant and cautious, of even letting one of them go.

I don’t want to be who I was.

That man is dead.

I even threw out his double XL clothing.

It wasn’t always like this.

My melancholy was long. Drawn out. Filled with long, melodramatic episodes of quitting and stomping my feet like a little insolent child.

Sometimes, you just have to go to bed.

You have to wave goodbye to a shitty temporary existence and wake up with a new soul, a new mind, and decide to steer in a new direction.

This all sounds a lot easier on paper, I know.

It seems false and contrived as I type it, but if you know me, you know I have no reason to lie.

Whatever your struggle. Whatever your disappointments. Whatever your failures may be.

Despite their length or intensity.  

No matter the regret or guilt, you might surround yourself with, and wear as a blanket of comfort.

No matter what.

Failure comes to an end.

It always comes to an end.

Don’t hang on. Let whatever imprisons you, large or small, die.

Bury it.

Pound the dirt with your shovel.

Yell, scene.

And begin anew.


the problem with the future


We think we know who we are, but we don’t.

We also have the creepy ability to rewrite our own history to suit our desires.

But the future.

The glorious future is what causes us some real concerns.

Dr. Daniel Gilbert wrote Stumbling on Happiness. It is a funny and brilliant book on how the mind works and how it shapes who we are.

One of the thoughts that has become my own is how our mind projects itself into the future.

Our vision of the future seems to be nothing more than our perceived reality of the present, except better, or worse, depending on how you woke up this morning.

As obvious as all of this seems, we cannot see the future.

We cannot really imagine what is coming because we don’t have the architectural plans, nor all the building blocks. Our mind is deficient. Not really deficient, that’s not really fair. Our mind is simply not designed to be a holistic mystic seer. But because we ask, our mind does what it can. It predicts, for better or worse, what our life will look like, with what limited information we have provided.

This is why we have problems with our future.

We are either ecstatic about what is to come, and then are left feeling disappointed. Or we brace ourselves for the worse, and are pleasantly surprised, and feel somewhat guilty.

My mom and dad made the decision to come to Canada and we arrived in the winter of 1985, because the prospect of remaining in Poland was dire. My father was a political prisoner, and an active member of the Solidarity movement in the city of Bydgoszcz.

He could not stop being an agitator, even if he tried. So, facing further persecution, or worse, being taken away in the middle of the night, to be never heard from again, he projected his future and made a hard decision. After some deep soul searching, my mom and dad looked for a way out, and I find myself here, writing far away from home.

After being carved up by the Russian, Prussian, and Hungarian empires, Poland gained its independence on November 11, 1918, to would lose it once again in 1939, and again in 1945. After sixty or so years of totalitarian oppression, my parents projected a future that looked bleak and unforgiving.

And then, just like that, on June 4th, 1989, it was all over.

Communism was dead. Poland was once again a free country.

My mom and dad, who have known oppression their entire life, were unable to see a different future. It is no surprise that they could not see the end of the Red dragon, in just four and a half years.

But it was too late.

The return back to Poland was almost impossible. They did not want to uproot me once again from the Canadian soil, I was beginning to call home, so they embraced the possibilities of the moment.

The problem of predicting the future can be devastating sometimes, because many of us give up on ourselves and our dreams, simply because we are certain we know what is to come.

But we can’t divine anything.

The world didn’t know Communism would fall in Europe. That spandex and hairspray would dominate the music scene in the 1980’s. That the internet would revolutionize how we connect and interact with each other.

There is much we don’t know about the future.

Quite frankly. We know nothing at all.

The only thing we can do is prepare.

But how do we prepare for something we can’t see?

We get to work, we embrace failure, and remain open to any and all possibilities.

That is the key to happiness.

Get to work.

Paint. Draw. Make Music. Plan your garden. Quit smoking. Lose a bit of weight. Ask for forgiveness. Offer absolution. Get a new wardrobe. Try new things. Meet new people. Revisit old things. Get over yourself.


Try new things and be horrible at them. Keep failing and falling until it becomes as easy as breathing. Become fascinated with your own ability to play the fool. It’s hard at first, but if you do it often, people are funny creatures, often distracted by bright shiny objects, and so they will eventually fail to notice you.

Accept all possibilities.

We are not in control. Control leads to ruin.

We don’t ask life questions, she asks us.

It’s important to be open to all possibilities.

To be able to return or accept a compliment. To be able to earn a living doing something we thought would remain a hobby. To be able to go back and be a child again. Not childish. We have enough old men with small idea. But a child. A little you, with unbridled energy, and a tenacity of living life to the fullest.

You cannot run toward the future.

You have to stay right here.

Get to work. Don’t chide yourself when you fail. Embrace possibilities.

If you do.

You won’t regret the future.

You will have stumbled upon happiness.


leap before you're ready


I know. I know. You’re not ready. 

You could use a little more time. A few more moments. A few extra adjustments. A sign. An epiphany. A transfiguration? A message of encouragement from an Angel? Perhaps a signal delivered by three wise men from the East?  A really, really, really, really, bright star in the sky?

One day. Someday. No way.

You’re ready.

You may not know where you are going or where you’ll end up being, but you are certainly ready to begin today. You have to dig deep and find the courage to start. Embrace your tenacity to leap.

Leap before you’re ready.

Leap before it’s too late.

Your life has been a series of leaps, nudges and pushes anyway.

You were happy and content to contemplate your quiet existence, when suddenly, the woman who professes to love you pushed you out. Or maybe she was a bit more unfortunate and had a doctor cut her belly open so that from your mother you were untimely ripped.

Yet, if you think back, you were not afraid to lift your head. You weren’t critical and skeptical. Negative or pessimistic.

You began to crawl because you wanted to see and play your part; lend your voice to the symphony of existence.  You shoved anything and everything into your mouth.

Dirty. Wet. Dry. Big. Small.


You hit your head. Bruised your knees. You fell down. You rose again, and again, and again.

You learned to crawl, you learned to walk. You even got the hang of digesting solid food.

You began to speak and excel in so many things.

Unbelievably complicated things.

You’ve done well.  You’ve done well throughout whole life, so why stop now?

Why do you look back so often and wonder about what could have been?

You’re gazing in the wrong direction.

Stand your ground and leap.

Leap before you’re ready.

Leap before it’s too late.

Like before, you will learn along the way. Some things you know. Some, you’ve forgotten. Others you’ll discover when you need them.

Like before, generous people will arise out of nowhere. They will be there to guide and encourage you. They will help you out.

How do I know? Because we are social creatures and despite how we feel or see ourselves, there has always been someone guiding, helping, and directing us towards our dreams.

Fear is far worse than death.

We can’t do anything about death, but we can certainly do something about fear.

You can’t write a book about what you don’t know. You can’t sing about what you haven’t experienced. You cannot play an instrument you’re not familiar with.

Most importantly, you can’t help others, unless you leap and have something to offer them.

The world doesn’t need any more bad news. Fake or otherwise.

More accidents, harassments, corporate takeovers, wars, family conflicts, drunkenness, addiction, depression, medication, complaints, gossip, and our right wretchedness.

The world needs you.

The world needs the best of you.

The best of you that will only become visible if you leap. If you jump. Without hesitation. Despite of fear. Despite the trembling. 

The world needs you to begin today. To begin right now. 

So, leap before you’re ready.

Please leap, before it’s too late.