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HEY – DON’T YOU EVER GET FUCKING LAZY, you’ve got too much good stuff in ya to squander it on passive consumption and commentary. Anything you touch you can allow Him to manifest and master.  You picked up a guitar and can carry a tune and throw a few chords together. Cake. No you’re not a Jeff Buckley or B.B. King or no Ella Fitzgerald, Etta James, ‘At Last’ geniusness. But damn it, you know your way around a melody. You can kick ass at any sport. Great. You can debate and massage and heal and intuit and read birth charts and tarot cards and be a Gypsy and talk to business people and offer obeisances and get kids to listen and get up on stage and improv some decently funny shit and cook a fucking vegan roast. You’re a competitive motherfucker who wants to be good, maybe not the best because you don’t want to see it as trying for the best, and anyway, you’re smart enough to know there’s no such thing, truly, plus then that would require 100% focus and commitment and you’re a bit chicken-shit-amateurish to commit to anything that hardcore at this point. Except for maybe words. Better turn that maybe into a life-sentence ya dig? The muse shows up, just like it just did. You see how that double entendre just spilled out? It’s not you, it’s the muse. It’s the flow and the truth combining to manifest because for some God-knowing reason you have a little way with words and can take yourself around a page, and you’re detail oriented as a Nazi looking for his next hit. Fuck that wasn’t right. Too soon. It will always be too soon with the Holocaust.  

AND DON’T BE THINKING IT’S YOU WHO IS SO DAMN AMAZING. YA HEARD? It’s not. It’s not fucking you who has all these talents and opulences and skills. Don’t forget that and don’t let shit get to your head. Don’t get too fucking proud, not about anything, never so fucking proud that you look like a damn fool. But don’t let that be your motivation – not looking like a damn fool. You should beg to look like a fool, maybe not that far, but you are just the vehicle. Ok I’ll back off, this is getting to be a little abrasive. Don’t take it badly, I’m just a ball buster, the inner voice in you, you internalized your crazy dad (love him, God bless him), after all. We went over this, hello superego. The moderns call it the superego and it’s in your mind. The ancients call it the Supersoul and it’s in your heart. One is your material father the other is your eternal father. One chides, the other guides. You are a spirit-soul contaminated and covered up by a lot of millions of lives of mistakes and karmas and habits and patterns and conditionings. You’ve been honestly trying on this path, you have. You chose some other-level shit and not everyone cares. But hey, sometimes you don’t try worth a damn. There’s always someone else doubling down. Someone else with a clearer vision than you, and crisper intentions, and more decisive actions when they jump out of bed in the morning. Maybe their sights are not as lofty, but in-hand, someone who has a plan and is stepping down that road, someone who spends nights in while you kick around with pals, putting shit off.  Someone who’s making a plan and has the friends and partners to make shit happen. So don’t compare yourself but don’t forget to buckle down and just do it, but do it without the laziness. Try damn it. Cut out that Twitter nonsense, that Instagram hokie, that Facebook time-crook crap.  I know you know this. Sometimes you give only as much as it takes to get over the hump so you can sit your lumps back down and kick back and fuck around. I know you do this. And know this. But what about taking it higher? No, not just with your words and thoughts, but with your deeds, too. Not just to ‘show it’ to people. No, do it for real, for quiet, for keeps – slink around minding your business and keeping your head in the right place and your heart pouring out goodness and just doing the damn thing. Eyes on the practice. Leave the prize for the Gods. I wanted to write dogs and it came out Gods. YES. THE PRIZE IS FOR THE GODS. Let them pick it up. You don’t even have to call it in. They KNOW. Like that. Don’t ever get so puffed up that you forget it’s all His. Offer it up to your teachers. They’re offering it up to their own. So it’s just due diligence, keep passing it back up the line, and eventually you know you’ll get to the source. Here, you can get there now. Remember that—everything you have came from the source. And you know thissssss. 

And next time you’re stuck, because there WILL be a next time, you don’t have to come back and read this pump-up piece because you will be stuck in a new way, but the same, but a new way. And that will require another rant to yourself about what the fuck you need to remember and what it takes, what you must give up and what you absolutely, life-or-death must pick up and soar with.

NOW SOAR ON THE WINGS HE GAVE YA.

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PS -- This writing-out-your-motivation stuff works ;) try it for your self
xo