Jacques de Villiers

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  • Love Coach – Cyriano de Bergenac

    Love Coach – Cyriano de Bergenac

    Jacques de Villiers – writing quest: Article 42/365

    Cyriano de Bergenac asked me to write his LinkedIn Profile for him.

    I help inarticulate, clumsy and shy men get the woman of their dreams.

    I help men who have offended their love, win her back.

    If your heart wants to pound through your chest when you see the object of your desire and don’t know what to say to her because your mouth dries up, words burn up like vampires in the sun, and you look like you’ve had a stroke, then you need my services. 

    I am Cyriano de Bergerac, also known as Gérard Depardieu. I’m a swordsman turned love coach. I write prose and poetry that will melt any woman’s heart. 

    I know what I’m talking about. I was where you are. I fell in love with my cousin, Roxane (don’t judge, it was de rigueur in my day). My problem is that I was ugly, not quite Smeagol (my precious) ugly, but with a nose big enough to frighten a Proboscis monkey. 

    This chop, Christian, makes a play for my Roxane. He’s stunning, but not the sharpest. He asks me to write her letters on his behalf. I accede to his request, but only to secretly express my love to her. Long story short, I’m felled by a tree (I know, for an ex-swordsman, that’s just pathetic). As I die in Roxanne’s arms she tells me she knew the letters were from me and that she’s in love with me. 

    Don’t be like me, make you play quick, get your love, make babies and live happily ever after. Let me write the words that will take you from the friend zone to the end zone and from the dog box to the boudoir. 

    Don’t be incredulous: I told you upfront that I’m now known as Gérard Depardieu. You’ve heard of reincarnation, I assume? If you haven’t, you’re probably pretty dense and will definitely need my writing skills otherwise you’ll die alone.

    Talk is cheap. Let me show you an example of a letter I wrote in the form of a court case.

    This client of mine made a bit of a cul of himself. In your vernacular it would be poepol. He was overly eager, displaying a sense of desperation. Now we know that desperation is not a good look on a man. I had to save the day. We sent this letter to the object of his affection.

    State Vs. Frikkie Havenga
    Plaintiff: Henrietta Papenfus

    Domicillium citandi et executandi: Verona, Italy

    Charge: Making an ass (cul) (legal term 321. Assenger’s syndrome) of himself with too many WhatsApp messages even though the plaintiff made it clear that she thinks it’s bordering on stalking. She wants to remedy the situation by declaring him persona non grata. Basically, she wants a restraining order.

    Defence: Temporary Insanity (Non compos mentis)

    Precedence: Romeo and Juliet, Verona, 14th Century. Prevalent feeling: Amare (love), with a touch of la luxere (lust).

    Reason: Plaintiff was the first person to touch Havenga’s heart after it was broken 20 months ago. He’s in love again, and it feels wonderfully giddy.

    Undecided Decision: The plaintiff must determine whether she will withdraw the stalking charges and offer Havenga an opportunity to redeem himself or tell him to take a hike. 

    Verdict: What does the Plaintiff say? Yay. Nay.

    They’re naming their first child after me. 

    Inbox me ℅ Paris, France if you’d like me to write you something to melt even the hardest heart.

  • Romancing The Stone

    Romancing The Stone

    Jacques de Villiers – writing quest: Article 41/365

    I was in a brief romantic entanglement recently. It was brief because I blew it. We’d had a wonderful evening and connected beautifully. Our future was pregnant with promise (probably not something you want to be thinking about when dating ;-)). We potentially were going to meet the next week if she could get out of a prior engagement. On the day I sent her a WhatsApp asking what was happening. I got no response, neither that day nor the next. I sent a ‘hope you had a good day’ text. I was starting to feel a bit like a drowning man.

    Then she sent me a life raft. “Sorry, I’m not ignoring you, I’ve just been crazy busy.” I popped her a note, feeling the validation-seeking seven-year-old child rear its head. I wrote, “To be honest I thought you’d had a change of heart, rejected my attempts at connecting and were ghosting me.” 

    She replied that wasn’t the case and said that she probably didn’t handle the situation well and apologised. 

    And, that’s when I snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. What I should have said was, “That’s ok, reach out when it suits you.” Here’s what I did. Because of my social Tourette, I agreed with her that “she didn’t handle the situation well”. Cringeworthy I know.

    And, as I sent her the message, I knew that I’d blown it.

    Could it get worse? Hell yes. She didn’t answer any of my texts after that. The ominous grey checkmark materialised. She didn’t even open my texts. I sent an email. I sent a note to Facebook Messenger which she also did not read. I sent her a note to her LinkedIn. Not a peep. I meditated and sent her messages through the cosmos. I even wanted to get my old carrier pigeon, Bernie, out of retirement to get to her. But he needs his rest. Once again, cringeworthy.

    Her heart had turned to stone. She’d turned me into a non-person, which is eina. And, there was no way my desperation was going to crack through that.

    After recovering from my whiskey binge and self-pity, I managed to learn something from this situation.

    I need to reread Power Vs. Force by David R. Hawkins.

    Clearly, I learned nothing from the last read. I tried to force a situation that probably was never going to resolve itself. And, by sending all those messages, I looked desperate. Definitely not a look that one wants when wooing a woman. If I had true power, I would have respected that I messed up and apologised once (not 10 times) and let the chips fall where they would. I would have let go of the outcome.

    People often mistake me for an adult because of my age.

    She knew she had acted inappropriately by not contacting me about our tentative plan, but she didn’t want to be confronted about it. Immediately her defences went up, and her heart turned to stone to protect herself.

    And, this is probably the crux of this piece of text.

    Most of us don’t ever want to be called on our frailties. You can dress it up in words like ”constructive feedback’ (we don’t even say criticism any more), “a learning moment”, ‘I’m telling you this because I love you’, ‘I’m only saying this to you because you’re important to me …’ Criticism sucks, no matter how it’s presented.

    It happened to me the other day. I attended a professional speakers’ event recently. I ran into a well-known and successful speaker whom I have known for 15 years. She approached me and said, “Your last video wasn’t great.” And she was right, I am awful on video (that’s why I write). I look like I’ve had a stroke. My speech slows dooown, my one eye droops, I smile like a cricket, and I’m wholly inarticulate. It’s a train wreck, I know. But, even knowing my short falls, all I could think was, “Eina”.

    Perhaps she saw the pained look in my eyes and tried to walk it back. She said, “I’m only saying this to you because I know you can take it.” With a painted smile on my face I replied, “Of course I can. Thank you so much for the feeback. I appreciate you highlighting it to me.” Here’s the problem. I can’t take criticism. That’s not entirely true, of course: I can take a hit, but my seven-year-old child can’t.

    Here’s what I heard. “You suck at making videos.” “You suck.” And, from there, it went downhill: “You’ll never amount to much.” “You’re stupid.” “I wish you weren’t born.”

    “Yes, mommy, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

    When seven-year-olds get together, it’s a mess.

    If our short romantic encounter had turned into something more serious, it would have been challenging because when two seven-year-olds come together, it won’t end well.

    We’ve all been engineered by our parents and our environment. Despite their best efforts to disadvantage us, most of us have come out of it OK (ish). Once we learn to let go of the negative programming we had punched into us, things will get easier. 

    The trick is to figure out what our location is. And, this is where David R. Hawkins’s Map of Consciousness comes in handy. If you find yourself in the location of shame, apathy, guilt and grief, it might be worth exploring. These may be constructs foisted on you by your parents. They can definitely be undone by letting them go. 

    Is it easy? No. Is it worth it? Yes. 

  • I’ll See It When I Believe It

    I’ll See It When I Believe It

    Jacques de Villiers – writing quest: Article 40/365

    I’ve always been interested in how the Placebo Effect works. Or more accurately, that it works. 

    I recall reading this weight loss study by Crum and Langer in 2007. Researchers told half of the cleaning staff at seven hotels that their daily work burned enough calories to meet the Surgeon General’s recommendations for an active lifestyle. The other half did not receive this information. After four weeks, the group that received the information believed they were exercising more, even though their behavior hadn’t changed. They lost weight and lowered their blood pressure, body fat, waist-to-hip ratio and body mass index.

    The cynical me always used to say, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” The Pollyanna version of me now says, “I’ll see it when I believe it.” Basically, the Placebo Effect.

    That’s probably why I’m accepting of every human, religion, philosophy and culture and can adapt to any of them. I’ve come to understand that everything is made up of energy and operates on different frequencies. I choose to perceive that every positive thought and action I do is good for me and the entirety of everything that is. 

    This may or may not be true. But it’s true for me, therefore it works for me.

    I believe that every task we do, no matter how menial, is holy and has meaning. I do every task to the best of my ability as an offering to my creator for letting me play here.

    I believe that every task we do, no matter how menial, is holy and has meaning. I do every task to the best of my ability as an offering to my creator for letting me play here.

    This may or may not be true. But it’s true for me, therefore it works for me.

    I’m as comfortable in a church, synagogue, mosque, shamanic despacho ceremony, Buddhist meditation, as in a Hindu Kirtan ceremony. I believe they all carry a beautiful frequency and by exposing myself to this frequency I am positively transformed.

    This may or may not be true. But it’s true for me, therefore it works for me.

    I’m comfortable with the Bible, Torah, Bhagavad Gita, the Tripitaka and Quran. I believe that just by being exposed to them, I raise my frequency. Why, I even believe that by putting them into this article I’ve automatically raised the frequency of this text. Which is a good thing for both you and me.

    This may or may not be true. But it’s true for me, therefore it works for me.

    I’ve become comfortable with the notion that nothing is being done to me but for me. That I’m the point of it all (as are you) and that the universe is my ally, not my enemy.

    This may or may not be true. But it’s true for me, therefore it works for me.

    Let me go vacuum my home quickly, I can already feel the fat shredding from my body.

  • Particle

    Particle

    Jacques de Villiers – writing quest: Article 39/365

    God: Hello Particle, I’m about to send you out into the world. What is it you’d like to accomplish on the journey you’re about to undertake?

    Me: I’d like to teach about resilience, love and forgiveness.

    God: Particle, these are truly noble pursuits. Are you sure this is what you wish to dedicate your lifetime to?

    Me: Yes, this is what I want to do.

    God: Well then I’ll turn you into a romantic. You’ll write untold words about love yet never experience it yourself. I’ll send you people who’ll strip-mine your heart until there’s nothing left but an ugly gash on the ground. I’ll send you a mother who blames you for her lot in life. I’ll bring you romantic entanglements that’ll eventually all leave you (broken and unlovable). You’ll learn to get up every time, you’ll learn resilience. 

    Me: Wow, that sounds awfully harsh. For both them and me.

    God: Not at all, Particle. They signed up to teach you how to get up from disappointment and how to hone your resilience. You will face tougher challenges than romantic failure and the longing for a mother’s love in your life, and you will need to be strong. They signed up to crack your heart open so that you can release the true love in you; for yourself first.

    Me: That makes sense. You’ve covered both love and resilience, but left out forgiveness. 

    God: I am God, I leave out nothing. Particle, I’m going to send you two fathers. One that will reject you and one that will abuse you. One will leave you when you’re a year old, and the other will stay with you for 13 years, teaching you resilience that can only be forged in the crucible of violence. They both signed up to teach you forgiveness. That was their journey with you. You’ll learn to forgive them in time. You’ll absolve yourself of the guilt you feel for being born and putting your mother through the horror that was her life. You’ll finally learn to forgive yourself. 

    Go now, Particle, and fulfil your part in my play. 

  • Are Believers Healthier Than Atheists?

    Are Believers Healthier Than Atheists?

    Jacques de Villiers – writing quest: Article 38/365

    Apparently, people with strong spiritual beliefs have better mental health and adapt more quickly to health problems compared to those with weak spiritual beliefs.

    There are, of course, many other considerations like lifestyle choices and genetics to take into account. I know the grumpiest and most negative of atheists that live to a ripe old age.

    However, death is the great equaliser. And whether we are believers or atheists, to some extent we fear it. 

    “In a world where death is the hunter, my friend, there is no time for regrets or doubts. There is only time for decisions.”

    Carlos Castaneda

    Spiritually conscious people in part have hope which is an alternative to our innate fear of death.

    As a child I felt a great sense of loss when our six Labrador puppies drowned in our swimming pool. It was my first real taste of mortality. I realised that my parents would one day die, and be gone forever. That filled me with deep sadness. When I realised that I would one day be gone too, I was left in a state of terror. 

    When I was six, I stumbled upon the answer: Die before you die. Of course, you’re smart enough to know there’s no way I ‘stumbled’ onto the answer. It was revealed to me. 

    Many spiritual teachers and philosophers advocate for dying before you die. 

    For six months, I would return home from my Sub A class at Zonnekus Primary School in Milnerton. I would close the curtains of my room, get into bed, and pray to die. At that time I was proximate and intimate with death. 

    I can’t fathom the reason for this. Perhaps, I knew that this life of mine wouldn’t be easy, and I wanted the coward’s way out so that I didn’t have to face it. Or perhaps the demon that had assailed me when I was two had come back. The exorcist thought not and the psychologist just said I was channelling Jung.

    Even at that young age, contemplating the end of my life led me to deep introspection, growth and joy. I came out of the experience changed. I would say my spiritual journey started then. I believed in an afterlife or a forever-life since the soul is permanent.

    “Death is very likely the single best invention of life. It is life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new.”

    Steve Jobs

    So whether we are a believer or an atheist, once we lose the fear of death, things shift for us. Believing in an afterlife, whether real or not, can bring us a sense of well-being and peace.

    If you find the idea of an afterlife and ever-life hard to believe, then believing that your purpose is to make a difference should bring you a feeling of well-being and peace.

    “Without death, life would be meaningless. To be, and to enjoy your being, you need death, and limitation enables you to fulfil your being.”

    Carl Jung

    I think that all of us should have the experience of dying before we die so that we can appreciate this extraordinary life that we have now. What do you think?

  • Armour Up

    Armour Up

    Jacques de Villiers – writing quest: Article 37/365

    I know it’s probably sacrilege to say that I’ve never really gotten into Robin Sharma (The 5 AM Club – Morning Routine) or Jay Shetty, the two monk superstars. Both of them are proponents of morning rituals.

    My speed is more Pema Chodron, the Buddhist nun. Her book, When Things Fall Apart, has been a loyal companion to me over the years. 

    I perhaps have something to crow about. I’d been doing the morning rituals long before they wrote about it. First five years of boarding school at 13, and then two years of military service. But, that was never voluntary, so it probably doesn’t count.

    Voluntarily, I’ve been doing morning rituals for nearly 40 years, with meditation being my mainstay.

    I am a bit monkish about it when I say, “Morning for me. Afternoon for everyone else.”

    Every morning, I start my day by praying, meditating, writing, and walking. I do this because I understand that as the day goes on, challenges will gradually weaken my determination. By four pm I’m done.

    The other day, I forwent my ritual and didn’t meditate or walk. I paid the price. The day went sideways. I dropped my cell phone twice, how it didn’t break is a miracle. I wrote the biggest claptrap of an article I’ve written in years. My left calf played up, and I ended up limping (any calf whisperers out there that can tell me the meaning.) And, I irritated everyone I spoke to that day. I was clumsy and inarticulate (read into it ‘rude’).

    Now I know that, as Aristotle said, “One swallow does not a summer make.” So, perhaps I shouldn’t read too much into it. But this is not the first time that I have slipped my discipline and things went wrong.  

    Establishing a set of morning rituals is as essential as taking your vitamins. You don’t really notice a difference until you stop taking them. Then watch the wheels fall off. 

    Damn you, Robin Sharma, now I’m going to have to read your book, won’t I?

  • Weird Uncle Al

    Weird Uncle Al

    Jacques de Villiers – writing quest: Article 36/365

    My child thinks I would be called The Triggerer if I were a superhero because I have a knack for provoking people. Perhaps a tad unkind, but I think they’re right. I, of course, would rather like to be known as The Truth Sayer. But those aren’t really popular either.

    I’m like a young superhero still discovering my power, and sometimes I lose control because I haven’t learned to tame it yet.

    It’s like I have some kind of social Tourette Syndrome.  I just blurt shit out and watch the chaos that ensues. I’m like that weird uncle (Al) at a wedding – you have to invite him because he’s family, but you’re scared he’ll try to give a speech, and you know it won’t go well. 

    Weirdly, this superpower is in full bloom when it comes to waiters at restaurants. Near me, they drop stuff, they stutter, they get the order wrong, they trip. And, I’m so gentle with them, but it doesn’t seem to help. They’re like exorcists who can spot a demon at 10 feet. I always tip them huge amounts for their pain and suffering and subsequent therapy.

    If I’m honest, it’s not just waiters. Nobody wants a mad truth sayer near them, triggering them. I’ve learned to mask my triggering power by shutting my mouth.

    When I am asked my opinion, I preface and end it with softeners. You know the throw up in your mouth ones: “I say this with the deepest respect. I say this with love. You know I love you, right? I love how enthusiastic you are, but …”

    I’m still struggling to use WhatsApp because the trigger is still there in the conversation, haunting both me and the person triggered. I’ve found that hug and heart emojis come in handy here, and work well as softeners. ⊂◉‿◉つ (｡♥‿♥｡)

    I say this with so much love for you. You’re a chop. ⊂◉‿◉つ (｡♥‿♥｡) You have so much potential. ⊂◉‿◉つ (｡♥‿♥｡) Please convey my regards to Katrina. ⊂◉‿◉つ (｡♥‿♥｡)

    Of course the real power of The Triggerer is the ability for the triggered to face himself. 

    There are two possible responses.

    1. Denial. The triggered can look at The Triggerer and, say or think. “I say this with the deepest love. F%#k Off. ( ° ͜ʖ͡°)╭∩╮Take your opinion and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.” ( ° ͜ʖ͡°)╭∩╮”
    2. Curiosity. “Mmm, that’s so interesting that I’ve gotten triggered by those words. Let me investigate my feelings and see where they’re coming from. The Triggerer helped me discover something that is keeping me at a lower vibration and holding me back from reaching my true potential. Hooray for The Triggerer, my hero!”

    “Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.”

    Carl Jung

    Uncle Al puts the bottle of wine down and stumbles up and says, “And now I’d like to say a speech to the wonderful newly-weds.”

    Wedding f*#cked.

    Uncle Al goes home and sleeps like a baby. (>.⁢) zzZ

  • I Wish I Had A Catherine Dickens In My Life

    I Wish I Had A Catherine Dickens In My Life

    Jacques de Villiers – writing quest: Article 35/365

    Whenever Charles Dickens, the author, wrote scathing letters to those who he perceived to have offended him, Catherine, his wife, would always take them to the post office. She never posted them. And, saved him from a world of hurt. 

    I don’t have a Catherine, so here goes …

    Cut. Cut. Cut.

    That’s how I started writing the article I was going to send out today.

    It was going to be a Jannie Jammergat (Sad Sack) piece calling people out who I perceived to have offended me. I probably would have lost friends, and I can’t afford to lose any more.

    As you know, the universe always works for my (and your) good. 

    I got a phone call from one of my dearest friends. I read some of the article to him, and he said, “What do you hope to gain from this? And, is it the best use of your energy right now?” 

    Thank you universe for channelling Catherine Dickens right at the moment I needed her. 

    How often have you reacted instead of responding to a situation? It happens to me more often than I care to admit.

    When we’re reacting we are running an unconscious programme, probably from childhood. We often react without thinking (unconscious). I know when I react it’s because I’m hurt. You know the old saying, ‘hurt people hurt people’. 

    Give me the child, and I’ll give you the man.

    Francis of Assisi

    Of course, a better way to react to a perceived slight is to respond. This is called being conscious. And, it buys you a second or two so that you can respond appropriately. I’ve often found that the best response is no response.

    Think about it: what weakens us is feeling offended by the deeds and misdeeds of our fellow men. Our self-importance requires that we spend most of our lives offended by someone. Only as a warrior can one withstand the path of knowledge. A warrior cannot complain or regret anything.

    Carlos Castaneda

    It’s becoming apparent to me that whatever is offered to me is a gift even though it doesn’t always feel like it at the time.

    The way I generally handle a perceived slight these days is to pause and think, “Mmm, that was eina. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. I wonder why this has triggered me? It needs further investigation. Yay, it’s another opportunity for me to let go of something that’s holding me back. 

    I then open my heart to the person who has gifted me with this insight and thank them.

    Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves. Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes. Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life, and you will call it fate.

    Carl Jung

    Jung’s right, of course, until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life. 

    Let’s become conscious, you and I. It’s the best response to anything life throws at us.

  • The night I turned into a ghost

    The night I turned into a ghost

    Jacques de Villiers – writing quest: Article 34/365

    Just this Saturday evening I was at a friend’s dinner party when it happened again. I turned into a ghost.

    I was telling someone something mildly interesting when a woman inserted herself into the conversation and with nary a blink, started talking to the person. I exited the conversation and poured myself a stiff drink. Neither noticed that I’d left.

    It’s not the first time this theme has played itself out for me. It’s been an all too regular occurrence: insert, interrupt, ignore.

    I get paid to talk to people, but in social situations, I struggle to have conversations for free.

    I’m convinced that I’m interesting. I get asked to be a +1 at many functions because I can handle myself well in a social setting. I know I’m a marvellous specimen to look at, but it can’t just be that surely? I must be mildly interesting too?

    Do you sometimes feel invisible, unheard and unseen? Do you feel like you’re a ghost?

    I cook. I clean. I wash. I work. I pick up. I drop off. I love. I shout. I scream. They don’t hear me. They don’t see me. I’m alone. I’m a mother. I’m a ghost.

    I fix things. I work. I pick up. I drop off. I love. I shout. I scream. They don’t hear me. They don’t see me. I’m lonely. I’m a father. I’m a ghost.

    I stand on the street corner. I work. I wave my sign. I smile. I look frail. I’m hungry. I’m lonely. I’m hurt. I love. I shout. I scream. Why don’t they see me? Why don’t they hear me? I’m a beggar. I’m a ghost.

    I study. I eat. I stay in my room. I do chores. I love. I’m lonely. I try to fit in. I don’t fit in. Why am I invisible? I shout. I scream. I’m a son. I’m a daughter. I’m a child. I’m a ghost.

    I’m restless. I’m needy. I’m unfulfilled. I’m weak. I’m powerless. I’m in pain. I want to be loved. I want to love. I’m lost. I’m lonely. I’m alone. Please, someone, notice me. I’m human. I’m a ghost.

    If you have ever felt lost, unappreciated, unloved, shamed, apathetic, fearful, unfulfilled, regretful, guilty, dissatisfied, disjointed, fractured, or disappointed, then you know what a ghost feels like.

    It can’t find peace and leave this place because it’s stuck in a pit of self-pity, a river of regret, and a desert of depression.

    It’ll only be released to blessed peace and the bosom of mother Eden when it lets go of its expectations of how the world should be.

    If it expects the world to appreciate, love, and be grateful for its existence, it will be stuck in eternal regret, dissatisfaction, and disappointment.

    The ghost can only find solace when it realises that the world owes it nothing. Its children owe it nothing. Its boss doesn’t owe it anything. Its employees do not owe it anything. Its spouse does not owe it anything. The planet owes it nothing.

    It will only find peace and move on when it realises that it owes everything – appreciation, happiness, awe, gratitude and love to the world and those that rent space in it.

    We should make peace with the world as it is now and make peace with our role in it. The consequences and regret of not doing so will last for an eternity. The ghost will be released into joy only when it accepts things as they are and surrenders with grace.

    “Hello, my name is Jacques. I see you. I hear you. I feel you. Would you like to have a (uninterrupted) conversation?”

  • Meditating Through Madness

    Meditating Through Madness

    Jacques de Villiers – writing quest: Article 33/365

    I’ve been meditating for more than 30 years now. It has probably been the single best practice that has kept me from totally unmooring from this reality. 

    Meditation seems to imitate life or life imitates it.

    For me meditation is about taking my mind and my emotions into a place of stillness. Or as Dr. Joe Dispenza puts it, becoming no thing, no body, no place and no time. 

    It’s all about breathing in the meditation I practice. It’s pretty much all about breathing in life too, isn’t it?

    During meditation, if my mind drifts, I bring my attention back by focusing on my breath through my nose.

    Meditation reveals the extent of my scatteredness and how easily I become distracted. A bird chirping takes me out of no thing. An aeroplane overhead gets my attention. An itch needs to be scratched. A thought needs to be followed. A fly needs to be shooed away.

    I’ve trained myself to allow myself to acknowledge those distractions. I don’t use the force of willpower to banish them from my consciousness. I let them go by returning to the breath.

    I always plan to have the perfect meditation, and it never happens. Sometimes out of the hour, I get 45 minutes of ‘real’ meditation. Sometimes 30 minutes. And, sometimes when things really go awry, five minutes. But even five minutes is valuable. For me five minutes of meditation is worth five hours in the gym. And, if I had to choose, I’d always choose the five minutes of meditation over the five hours of gym. Not because gym is hard, but because meditation is more likely to take me to where I really need to be on this journey.

    Here’s the thing: those five minutes are valuable to me and to the entire consciousness of the planet. Those five minutes get me through the madness.

    If you think you’re too small to make a difference, you’ve never been to bed with a mosquito.

    Anita Roddick, author of Business Unusual

    Always back to the breath

    Isn’t life akin to meditation? We have plans (purpose) to impact the planet (or, at least our corner of it) and then things happen to distract us and take us off our path. When you feel distracted, gently remind yourself of your purpose (breath) and fulfil the promise that is in you.

    Nothing we do will ever be perfect (in my experience, at least), but what we do matters. 

    If you don’t believe me, take Jesus for example. His ministry was a mere three years, and look at the astounding impact he made. 

    What do you think you can do in three years? One year? Five minutes? 

    Go do that. Go now!