And That Time Has Come for Me
As I prepare for a month of traveling, including a week in the Sahara desert, I am also preparing to let go of my business for a month.
Of course, there is a part of me that welcomes that change. A break from the routines of work. But there’s also a part of me that is attached to what I do.
I have been consistently publishing this newsletter for the past five years. And I have been consistently creating and delivering all the services that I offer for as long.
But for One Month I Will Be Away
That means no newsletter articles. No private sessions. I will hardly be answering emails.
For someone who likes to work, this is surrender. Maybe I could have planned ahead and written a month’s worth of articles before I went. But life had a different plan.
Life asks me to put my travel plans ahead of my business for a change. It invites me to stop doing for a while. And to go with a new kind of flow.
And It Feels Right
Going away helps me remember that what I do is never actually all that important. No matter what I do I am never absolutely needed.
It takes humility to see it. But there is a lot of freedom in it. And that’s what I’m going to test this month while I’m away from my business.
I’m going to enjoy the break, and test out the idea that I am not actually needed anywhere. If my theory turns out to be true, I may be able to run my business with even less pressure when I return. Doing my job simply because I like to. Not because I need to or because anyone else needs me to.
With this perspective I could be very free. I sincerely want to test this out.
So I’ll See You on the Other Side
The next newsletter article will come out on Oct 24.
Slow-Cook Inquiry, Steady Pace Inquiry, and Self-Paced Inquiry will continue without me for a month. I love that these groups are becoming more and more self-sufficient.
And when I return, I’ll start up a new Work 101 with Todd course for anyone who wants to get started in doing this work, questioning everything.
Until then…
Have a great month,
Todd
“Once, standing in front of a large audience, I realized that I didn’t ever have to speak again—not then, not ever. I knew that no force on earth could prompt a word from my mouth, that there was nothing to say, and that words were absolutely unnecessary. So I just stood there and waited, fascinated to see what would come next. Finally, after a long silence, someone in the audience asked a question. And I—it—spoke. It was called upon for a response, and its answer met the question. Nobody needed the response; I had nothing to say that people didn’t already know in themselves. Yet the response happened. It was necessary. How do I know it was necessary? Because it happened.” Byron Katie, A Thousand Names for Joy
