Tag: inspiration

Since November, I’ve been hearing the same refrain whispered like a tired prayer: “I’m exhausted.” “I can’t wait for December so I can disappear.” “It’s been a hard year.”

Some people have already shut down. The doors are closed. The lights are dimmed. They will only awaken again somewhere around 12 January, blinking at the world like owls dragged into daylight. And then they’ll need another two weeks to remember how to move, how to work, how to care. If we are honest, the year only truly begins on 1 February.

A cynical soul might say some have been sleepwalking through their lives for much longer … marking time until they’re called home forever. A quiet, ghostly waiting.

What’s going on here?
What is the difference between being alive on 6 December and being alive on 1 February?
Nothing physical has changed. The sun rises, the clock ticks, the blood moves through our veins just the same. And yet something — something unseen — has dimmed.

What’s going on here? I mean, what’s different between being alive on 6 December and 1 February? Nothing has physically changed.

Let’s do a thought experiment. What if someone stuck a gun to my head: The hammer falls. The shot jams. I live.

Do you think I’d speak of tiredness? Hell no! I would be inspired to make the most of my second chance. I’d be doing things that are important.

I would taste air as if it were a feast.
I would hold my child for the longest time with arms that trembled from gratitude.
I would dig through old address books like treasure maps, hunting for the friends I had lost to time and carelessness.
I would mend what had fractured.
I would cast my petty grievances into the wind.
I would catch more bass.
I would play more chess.
I would write with ink still warm from the heart.
I would love as if love were a rare and vanishing animal.

So perhaps “tired” is a ghost word. A convenient cloak. A perception.

This world — our world — is built out of perception: heaven or hell, city or prison, all constructed in the theatre of the mind.

I would argue that we are not exhausted.
We are simply uninspired.

Because when we are inspired — truly inspired — we do not feel fatigue. We rise. We shine. We burn. We are alive.So being tired might just be an alarm bell warning us that we’re not inspired.

Do you remember what it felt like to be giddy with love? The world humming, colours bright, the future opening like a book?

How do we get back to that?
How do we fall in love again with this miraculous, improbable enterprise called our life?

If we can solve that, we will move from tired to inspired.
And inspiration is where we become who we were always meant to be: remarkable.

The question is simple, and it waits for each of us:

What would you do differently if tomorrow was a second chance?

Hello,

What’s it now? 150 days in one form of lockdown or another? I don’t know about you, but I’ve found it an awful experience generally. I realised that I’m tactile and miss face-to-face human connection (hugs). My soul has withered without that connection.

I’ve now become a bloody cat person and have befriended one of the cats in the house called Spike. I pet it, I play with it and I speak to it all the time (like the Chuck Nolan character in Castaway talking to Wilson).

It’s only a matter of time before I wear check pyjamas, a gown and fluffy slippers and down my sleeping tablets with hot cocoa. Right now I’m still kinda Hemingway about it and down my tablets with whiskey.

Pick a Lane

I was what you’d call a dipper. I’d dip my toe into spiritual, philosophical, relationship and work waters.

I’ve been a plumber’s mate, a short-order cook, a soldier, a lighter salesman, a jewellery salesman, a host at a club (and almost a fluffer), an advertising executive, a crisis manager, a fundraiser, a public relations officer, a professional speaker, an editor, a proofreader and finally, a writer. 

I’d get a whisper of the essence of the thing, but never the full story. I’d know just enough about a subject to be dangerously ignorant but not enough to actually contribute to this human existence meaningfully.

One thing I knew was that I was ignorant bordering on fraudulent. Thus, I’d keep my mouth shut and listen to others who were more versed and erudite on the subject at hand.

Over time, I realised that most of us are dippers and that we imposter our way through this human existence.

We’re always looking for that ‘next best thing’ to help us live a fulfilled, secure, powerful and harmonious lives.

I even went so far as to call myself a flâneur (a man who saunters around observing society). In my case it was sauntering around observing religions, spirituality and philosophies.

In this endeavour I always felt more like a spectator than a participant. And because I never had skin in the game, it was easy for me to give my subjective and often pompous opinion on the Jehovah’s Witnesses, the Jews, the Catholics, the Christians, the Buddhists and the Muslims, amongst others.

It came clear to me that pretty much all religions and philosophies have altruistic goals. They teach us to be courteous, deliberate and grateful human beings for the most part.

They give us a a system for living an exceptional life.

It occurred to me that I should pick a lane and rather become a master in something than a flighty Jack of all trades.

Thus, I’ve picked a lane and decided to become masterful at this one job. I think I’m starting to realise that I’m the job.

The rest is all a bit of a sideshow, really. You and I are the point of this whole endeavour and this play that we’re in has been written to enchant and amaze us. I hope I can make this job count and become a masterwork.

Let me write your profile

Speaking of sideshows … I’ve been getting more requests to do LinkedIn profiles. It’s an awful lot of fun, I have to say. I’ve done one for Phillip de Wet, a seasoned short term business insurance advisor and Yoke van Dam a professional speaker.

Learn how to write your own profile

DINEO Pact has asked me to present a course on LinkedIn profile writing on 26 September in White River. If you’re in that neck of the woods, join us. Even if you’re not, it’s going to be live streamed so you can still join us. Find out how to enrol here.

I think this video works well

Check out my one-minute video that was crafted for me about my bio writing. I’ve been told that video is one of the most effective marketing tools around. Let’s see.

Hook up with these two

By now you know I have a man crush on Carlos Castaneda. Check out my top 10 Castaneda quotes. They really are helpful in navigating this human endeavour. And, of course, you need to check out Ryan Holiday’s 10 books that’ll blow your mind.

My best to you,

Jacques

Thanks to Phillip de Wet for sponsoring this week’s newsletter. Let Phillip look at your current short-term business insurance portfolio to see if he can work out something that’s more advantageous to you.

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