I will be eternally grateful for your great gift of taking in to the fullest extent what it is that I
have to offer, living it, and then reflecting it back in terms of the potential experience of others.
You have given words to a process that defies words. And you’re constantly in a position to help
me continue to hone that, deeper and deeper and more and more resonantly, who I am and what I offer,
which is truly invaluable. — Jon Hansen, 
What you’ve sent me is so darn perfect it hurts! It’s a sheer pleasure to work with someone
who writes as beautifully as you do — and in “my” voice. — Ariane Goodwin, Ed.D,
You have a real gift for words. You’re really, really good at it. — Sherry Essig,
It’s very quiet in here
In my head, I mean.
After several rather painful days facing tough questions about doing and productivity, what it means to do and how it defines who I am, and the ways in which I have consistently overdone and made myself frantic and exhausted and resentful … I stopped.
Which isn’t to say I’ve stopped doing anything. On the contrary, I’ve baked all the layers for a wedding cake (photos to come!), finished a baby sweater I’ve been knitting forever, and done plenty of things in and for my business. And more stuff I’m undoubtedly forgetting.
I haven’t thought about it. I haven’t agonized over doing it. All the thoughts I would once – just a few days ago! – have had about doing it all on time, correctly – and what if I made a mistake? and what about all the other things I want to do? … not a peep. In fact, there have been long stretches of time where I don’t recall a single thought at all.
Attention – certainly. It would be a real shame to put too much salt in the cake, for instance. But no thoughts. No problems. No noise.
Like I said, it’s very quiet in here.
Nice.
Posted: June 12th, 2009 under Awareness.