Respecting your natural ability and your never evers.

So an extreme runner, a baker, and a writer walk in to a dinner party…

I didn’t even know there was such a thing as “extreme runners”. IronMen, yes, but extreme runners? People who run like, ONE HUNDRED MILES at a time. In a day. Over the course of 12 to 24 hours. Without, like, DYING. I listened to the runner’s personal story, absolutely riveted. When I picked my jaw up off the table, I pummeled him with questions. How do you feel after a race like that, How long to train, How do you push through, What about injuries, How long have you been this insane?

And I think to myself: Never, never, ever. I have no concept of what that natural ability feels like.

And then came dessert.

A sixtroopled layered meringue masterpiece. Layers of cakey meringue propped up with gorgeous goopy lemon curd and fluffy whipped white goodness whispering out of the tiers of scrumptiousness. Blessed with raspberries. And mint leaves. Placed on a heavy ceramic white rectangular platter. Sprinkled with edible fairy dust. I thought the co-hostess was joking when she said that she made it herself. I swear to the Gods of confectionery pleasure, this is what went through my head: It would be easier for me to build a bridge than to bake that mother. I was mystified.

And I think to myself: Never, never, ever. I have no concept of what that natural ability feels like.

Then the conversation turned to writing. And the dinner guests say kind things about what I do, how I string words together. And without being smug (one of my least favorite human dispositions), I softly say that, Ya, it comes easily to me. Pure delight. And someone says something like, “I could never write as easily as you. Nope. Never.”

And it occurs to me that we each have our delicious natural joys and our Never, never, evers.

And how beautiful that is.

 

 

related posts
danielle-laporte-how-you-listen-is-how-you-live-featured-2x

How you listen is how you live. (A poem for being of service.)

You may hear this as an order, an invitation, or as the opportunity of lifetimes.

How you listen is how you live.
Can you hear the women crying?
Can you hear the soil gasping for clean air?
And did you hear that? That’s the sound of a good man asking, How can I serve?

How do you serve?

Danielle-Laporte-Gift-Transaction

So, is this a gift, or a transaction? Because…your entire life is not a business deal.

I’ve been thinking a lot about transactional giving these days. I’ll tweet about you if you tweet about me. They owe me a favour. You listen for five minutes to them so they’ll listen when it’s your turn to talk. Even Stevens. Transactional giving can be a beautiful commerce of support, and there’s nothing inherently wrong with that interplay. But if all of our giving is to secure our getting…then, well, it’s gross.

Danielle-Laporte-Love-the-egg-you're in

Love the egg you’re in. (This is not a sermon on patience. But…)

Savour the simplicity of your pre-dreams-come-true time. Love the egg you’re in. Because not too long from now–and right on time, you’ll be spreading your wings and life will never be the same again.

Rock your emptiness

Rock your emptiness

But what if we rocked our emptiness? Felt the perimeter of ourselves. Relished the silence. Made friends with the peace that’s always waiting for us. What if we got off on the discomfort of our emptiness and let it be creative tension?

Whats-Underneath-Wishful-thinking

What’s underneath wishful thinking?

Wishful thinking is tangled up with craving. We want what we want. So we ignore the evidence that we’re very likely not going to get what we want out of a situation. Craving… wishing. Craving… denial. Craving… tolerating. It’s a wishous cycle.

danielle-laporte-manifesto-for-creativity

Don’t worry about being invited back. My Manifesto for Creativity.

Meaningfulness. Reveal myself. Be compassionate. Don’t worry about being invited back. Go there. xo. I jotted this down when I began writing my book. I wanted a manifesto and it had to happen quickly because…I had a book to write.

danielle-laporte-life-is-what-happens-on-the-way-to-the-finish-line-featured-2x-456x456

Life is what happens on the way to the finish line.

If you’re not loving what it feels like between your various life destinations, then get off the ride. Burn the itinerary. Fuck “motivation” and be still long enough to find your inspiration.

Danielle-Laporte-Let-the-Love-in

Let the Love in. Because, “It’s an honour to help you.”

I was in a spiritual tizzy — that’s an esoteric term for 80% emotions-running-wild, and 20% having faith that everything will work out. I can’t remember what it was over (probably divorce papers, or a publishing contract, or buying a house. But it involved documents and beaucoup emotion.)

what-to-do-after-the-breakthrough-danielle-laporte-social-2-2x

What to do after you have a breakthrough. (You’re going to shrink after you expand, so, listen closely.)

Threshold, crossed. You got there. After the grinding, the repetitive strain, the cord-cutting, the screams of release, the bliss of relief — the training paid off. Muscle burn got you across the finish line. Soul fire resurrected you. BREAKTHROUGH.

jerk-final

Why jerks show up in your life.

We attract jerks to burn karma — old agreements to be broken in current time, vows to be rescinded, slates to be wiped clean. We attract jerks for contrast — jerks show us what deception and manipulation feels like. They show us how we DON’T want to feel — which is excellent intel for knowing how we DO want to feel.

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This