Like almost everyone I’ve ever met, I love the movie Groundhog Day.

There are lots of reasons why I like this movie. First of all, Bill Murray. (Need I say more?) Second, I often love movies like this — ones that are mostly realistic but with one surreal twist (like Being John Malkovich or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind). It also has a special place in my heart because I once got to take a workshop with screenwriter Danny Rubin (who turned out to be a pretty cool guy and even answered a question I’d been wondering for over a decade).*

Most importantly, though, I like movies that — whether or not they’re realistic — ring true on a psychological level. And Groundhog Day definitely does.

No, we don’t literally live the same day over and over. More often than not, however, we spend most days with the same people, in the same places, doing the same things, thinking the same thoughts, feeling the same emotions. Sure, the details change, but (with only occasional exceptions for special events, peak moments, and unexpected twists) the underlying experience of our life tends to be pretty consistent from one day to the next. Just like it is for Phil Connors in Groundhog Day.

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. If we basically live the same day over and over, we can make that one day as good as possible. We can make it fulfilling. We can make it joyous. We can make it great.

From this perspective, the question becomes: What can you do to make your almost-recurring day a good one? How can you use your 24 hours (or 16, assuming you get a decent night’s sleep) to help yourself and others? What change(s) would take your day from bad to OK, or from OK to good, or from good to great? What’s one small tweak to your daily routine that could shift your day even a tiny bit in this direction?

When I asked myself these questions, the answer (for me) was obvious: write. Every day. I’ve also made other changes to my daily routine — most significantly, starting with “Life SAVERS” from Hal Elrod’s The Miracle Morning: Silence (meditation), Affirmations, Visualization, Exercise, Reading, and Scribing (better known as writing, but that wouldn’t make for a good acronym — or even a pronounceable one).

I’m now one month into this routine and, yes, reliving the same steps every morning is starting to feel a bit like Groundhog Day at times. But in a good way (think of Bill Murray at the end of the film) because I’ve consciously chosen these steps rather than responding to whatever the world happens to throw my way. And it sets the tone for a positive day to come — complete with recurring positive thoughts, actions, and results.

No, my semi-recurring day is not the most glamorous one imaginable. Unlike the film, my typical day doesn’t include any TV appearances, virtuoso piano performances, life-saving heroics, or ice sculpting. (On the plus side, I don’t have to listen to Sonny & Cher.) 😉

But it’s a day that feels more like me. My thoughts are more uplifting and my actions are more aligned with my values than they used to be. Plus, I’m seeing some positive results, particularly with my writing — including these words!

In the days to come, I hope you’ll do whatever it takes to turn your own version of Groundhog Day into one that you actually enjoy reliving (or at least reliving many of its general aspects, if not every last detail). It doesn’t require an entire life overhaul — or even an entire morning overhaul — just a subtle shift in the direction you want to go in: a few deep breaths and a smile each morning, 20 minutes for yourself at some point during the day, or a nightly pause to reflect on something you appreciated during the day. I think you’ll be amazed at how quickly you can go from feeling trapped in your life — stuck in a rut, repeating unwanted patterns — to embracing and cherishing your life…one day at a time.

…

* By the way, here’s the question I asked Danny Rubin: I first saw Groundhog Day shortly after reading Thus Spoke Zarathustra, in which Nietzsche raises the hypothetical question of eternal recurrence — the idea of reliving the same experiences over and over again. See the similarity? I did — so, while chatting after the workshop, I asked Rubin if he’d written Groundhog Day with Nietzsche’s concept in mind. He said no, he hadn’t made the connection until someone brought it up to him after the movie was released. Nonetheless, both representations of this idea can be viewed as either horrifying or as the ultimate affirmation of life. I choose the latter interpretation. 🙂

(photo ©1993 — courtesy of Columbia Pictures)

This is the last post I will write during the first half of my life. Not because I’m exactly 50% through my life (or approaching any significant external milestone) but because I’ve made a decision that will divide my life into “Before” and “After” segments: I’m going to stop dancing around the periphery.

Allow me to explain…

For decades, I’ve inhabited the edges of what I consider my “true life”: the life where I pursue my passions wholeheartedly, rather than merely dabbling. The life where I wake up excited to spend my days focused on what matters most to me, rather than repeatedly pushing the snooze button on my dreams. The life where I dive headlong into the ocean of authenticity, rather than tentatively dipping my toe in the pool. The life where I step into the arena, rather than watching from the sidelines.

The life that actually feels like me.

For me, this true life is largely about dedicating myself to my writing — finishing and publishing the books that have been dancing through my mind for years, keeping me awake at night but, come daylight, go scurrying into the shadows, consigned to the edges of my consciousness and forced to subside on scraps (figuratively and literally, as I hurriedly jot down my ideas on scraps of paper rather than giving them the space and time they deserve and fully fleshing them out).

But this is also about other changes I’m implementing in 2020 — simplifying and streamlining my business, getting healthier, and consistently maintaining a daily practice of gratitude, meditation, affirmations, visualizations, and relaxation. (The last book I read, the book I’m currently reading, and the next book on my shelf are, respectively: Mini Habits, Tiny Habits, and Atomic Habits. Do you sense a trend?) 😉

More than any specific habits or practices, though, I’m committed to making this the year when I stop approaching my life as if I’m merely conducting “research” (to use Jung’s word), stop playing at living and start actually living.

So, why am I telling you this? Two main reasons:

First, because I know the power of making a public declaration — I’m now accountable to you and everyone who will ask me, “So, how’s your new ‘true life’ going?” I want to have a good answer for you! (I’ll definitely be checking in throughout the year — here, on Facebook, and elsewhere — so I’ll have many incentives to keep up the positive results.)

Second, because I hope that this sparks some latent desire in you to stop dancing around the periphery of your own life. Perhaps you, like me, have felt a nagging at your sleeve (or, as Morpheus memorably put it in The Matrix, a “splinter in your brain”) — a desire to embrace your true calling and live in a way that feels authentic and true to your fullest, highest self. Perhaps, like me, you feel like you’ve kept your true life waiting far too long.

I imagine a scenario in which my true life is sitting in my car, engine running, waiting to take me on an adventure — but I’m not quite ready (or so I claim). I scurry between the house and the driveway, loading the trunk, packing, unpacking, repacking, but never getting in the car. (In short, dancing around the periphery.)

Now and then, my true life rolls down the window and calls out to me: “Are we gonna do this, or what?” And I always say, “Yes…but not quite yet. As soon as I’m packed. After I’ve done a bit more research. Once I’m feeling a bit more confident.” And my true life grows increasingly impatient, but still it waits for me — engine running, ready to go the moment I give the word.

So, true life, consider this “the word.”

The Secret Sits

Over the past year, I’ve frequently thought of Robert Frost’s short poem “The Secret Sits” (“We dance round in a ring and suppose, but the Secret sits in the middle and knows”). While I may not know Frost’s “Secret,” I do know there’s more to life than dancing around the periphery. Yes, I know that safety, familiarity, and comfort reside on the edges of life — away from the heat (and the heart). But I also know that wisdom, truth, beauty, fulfillment, and divine mystery reside in the center.

I know it’s possible to go through your entire life without actually living your life. And that thought terrifies me because, to a large extent, I feel like I’ve been on this path for decades — a path that merely leads round and round the periphery.

But now is the moment when I officially leave that path. I’ve wasted more than enough time on it. Now it’s time to write. It’s time to commit. It’s time to dive in. It’s time to live.

So now when my true life asks me, “Are we gonna do this, or what?” I can say yes. No ifs, whens, or buts — just yes.

…

P.S. If, like me, part of your authentic life involves writing a book, I hope you’ll join me in Your Soulful Book, a heart-centered program that provides all the tools, resources, and support you need to successfully write, publish, and market your soulful book in 2020. For information and to sign up, please visit www.yoursoulfulbook.com.

We just launched our latest collaborative book, 365 Soulful Messages: The Right Guidance at the Right Time, so I’ve been swimming in a sea of powerful messages, amazing stories, and soulful authors.

I’m so grateful to everyone who came together to make this book (the fifth and final volume of our 365 Book Series) so special, making it a #1 bestseller, and letting me share these life-changing experiences.

Although all of this book’s stories and messages are ultimately uplifting and inspiring, many of them grew out of difficult situations. This was the case with the story I contributed, which I’d like to share with you here:

…

On April 26, 2011, we found Elsie in a vacant lot near our house. After Jodi lured her over with a can of cat food, our new friend was more than happy to be carried home. A trip to the vet revealed that she had been spayed and seemed young (about one year old), healthy, and well cared for – so we were surprised that no one responded to the “Found Cat” posters we put up around the neighborhood and online.

Our tabby “foundling” quickly became an integral part of our family – a daughter, a friend, and also a teacher who modeled how to live with joy, love, and appreciation. She took pleasure in every little thing: a soft bed, a cardboard box to sit on (or in), a patch of sunlight (which she always managed to find), a few minutes of playing with a toy, and (as we already knew) a plate of canned food. Most of all, she seemed to appreciate just being around us. Because she followed Jodi wherever she went, we called her “Mama’s little duckling.”

She and I also developed a special bond. She loved sitting on my lap and kneading my stomach as I read, lying in my fuzzy guitar case as I played, and connecting each morning during our “sunshine perch” ritual, when I’d put her on top of her kitty condo, rub our heads together, and tell her how much I love her.

Sadly, on February 10, 2019, she suffered a massive stroke and passed away shortly thereafter – with Jodi and I petting her head and telling her how much we love her…forever.

Shocked and devastated, we wanted to hold on to our memories of her, which we decided to write down. We had many notebooks (which we use in our business), so we got to take our pick from a number of possibilities. We considered one that was covered in hearts (fitting because of how much we love her) and one with a butterfly on the front (also fitting, albeit bittersweet, given her recent transition). But the one we decided to use felt just right because of the three simple words on the cover, which perfectly encapsulate Elsie’s ongoing message for us: “Enjoy every moment.”

…

P.S. If you’d like to read 364 other stories of loving guidance, soulful signs, and inspiring messages, please visit www.365soulfulmessages.com to learn all about our new book and the 35+ bonus gifts you’ll receive if you order now (meditations, ebooks, videos, and more – all contributed by the co-authors).

Also, if you’d like to read more by authors on our blog tour, you can check out these posts from yesterday and today (and come back tomorrow for the ones scheduled for 11/21):

• Jodi Chapman – http://www.jodichapman.com
• Mimi Quick – http://www.mimiquick.com
• Lore Raymond – www.LoreRaymond.com
• Chanin Zellner – www.thelightvessel.com
• Mohamed Rachadi – www.morachadi.com

• Janet Nestor – http://www.mindfulpathways.com
• Karen Stillman – https://www.facebook.com/karen.kieke

• Debbie Labinski – www.debbielabinski.com
• Joy Resor – https://joyonyourshoulders.com
• Melissa Monroe – www.melissa-monroe.com

…

I hope you’ll order the book for yourself and/or others (it makes a great holiday gift!) — and, above all, that you’ll feel uplifted, inspired, and on the lookout for the soulful messages in your own life!

Around Halloween, you have to be careful flipping through the channels, or you might end up unexpectedly landing on a horror movie — no fun at all…unless you like to be scared.

I don’t.

I hate it. Which is why I’ve only watched a handful of horror movies in my entire life — a few when I was a kid (usually at a friend’s house on Halloween) and once when I got dragged to the theater for The Blair Witch Project — and none at all for the last 20 years.

Fortunately, I don’t remember much from this small sampling, but there is one horror movie that has stuck in my mind for over two decades: Cube, a low-budget 1997 Canadian film that follows six people trapped inside a giant cube with thousands of rooms. (Some people might consider it more of a psychological thriller or simply sci-fi, but by my tame standards, it definitely qualifies as horror.)

If you share my horror for horror, don’t worry — this post doesn’t go into any gory details (although it does contain a spoiler). But I do want to explore one scene that still scares me on a deep level:

At the end of the film, several characters manage to find the exit to this nightmarish 3D labyrinth — quite a feat, given that the rooms frequently move (sort of like a giant, hollowed-out Rubik’s cube being turned by an invisible hand). However, one of the characters hesitates in front of the exit; another one encourages him to get out while they have the chance. Suffice to say, neither of them makes it out. (One does though: the movie ends with him stepping into the bright light of the world beyond the cube).

So, why does this scene scare me so much? It’s not because I ever expect to be in a life-or-death situation where time is of the essence (such as having mere moments to jump from a sinking ship onto a lifeboat — or escape from a giant mechanical cube) but because it resonates with a psychological truth I feel on a deep level: Open windows don’t stay open forever.

It reminds me of an old Zen saying (or “gatha“):

Let me respectfully remind you,
Life and death are of supreme importance.
Time swiftly passes by, and opportunity is lost.
Each of us should strive to awaken…
Awaken! Take heed. Do not squander your life.

I first heard these words after a meditation session at Zen Mountain Monastery in Mt. Tremper, NY. It sent chills down my spine (and still does), especially the line “Time swiftly passes by, and opportunity is lost.”

Yes, I know the feel-good aphorisms: “One door closes, and another one opens. God never closes a door without opening a window. It’s never too late to pursue your dreams.” But sometimes it is too late to pursue certain dreams (e.g., a teenage gymnast probably can’t set aside her Olympic ambitions until middle age). Life changes. The cube moves. Doors close. Yes, new ones open — but certain doors remain closed forever. Certain once-in-a-lifetime opportunities truly are once in a lifetime.

Fortunately, most of these situations are not a matter of literal life and death, as it was in Cube. Oftentimes, however, it is a matter of life and death for a dream. When you miss these opportunities, dreams die. Or, worse yet, they don’t die — they remain dreams, forever trapped inside you instead of breaking out into external reality (like the lone escaper of the cube). They haunt you — worse than any horror movie could do.

So, rather than simply losing sleep over this grim closing scene, I choose to see it as a motivational cautionary tale — reminding me (in the words of Steve Winwood’s 1980 ditty), “While you see a chance, take it.” Yes, there will be other chances in your life — perhaps even more chances to pursue this particular opportunity.

But perhaps not.

So, please don’t find yourself near the end of your life (or at any point in your life), looking back with regret over chances not taken, opportunities not pursued while you had the chance, desirable doors that closed before you walked through them. If you’re feeling called to pursue a dream and you have the opportunity to do so, please do it — now, while the window is open.

Live.

It’s one thing to pay lip service to the warm-fuzzy aphorism “When the world gives you lemons, make lemonade”; it’s quite another to put this sentiment into action, but that’s what our local library did last month. Here’s what happened–and what I took away from it:

The Lemons

Last month, someone smashed eight windows in our local public library. I happened to go to the library later that day and saw the broken windows as well as glass all over the sidewalk, which made it dangerous to walk into the library. There was also glass inside the library, forcing them to close off several aisles–including my favorite nonfiction area with all the positive psychology books, which is what I’d gone to the library hoping to check out!

Later that day, the library staff put up some plywood, which was an eyesore, but at least it protected the library from the cold and rain. A few weeks later, they closed the library for a day and replaced the windows.

Crimes like this almost never happen in our quiet little town, which is populated mainly by beach-loving retirees, so I was shocked, saddened, and  perplexed by the vandalism–especially when I learned that it  wasn’t the work of a teenage troublemaker but an adult. Although I consider myself a fairly creative person, I simply couldn’t imagine why anyone would turn their destructive wrath against–of all places–the public library.

(I later learned that the vandal was a disgruntled patron who’d been banned from the library for inappropriate behavior, so they broke the windows as revenge–thereby proving that the library had been correct in their judgment.)

Anyway, on to the positive side of the story:

The Lemonade

While waiting for the windows to be repaired, the community wanted to cover the broken windows not just with plywood but also with something uplifting. So the library set up a selection of pens, paints, crayons, and other markers next to eight large panels (the size of the windows), each with a question for people to respond to, such as:

• What makes you laugh?
• What is your favorite book, character, or author?
• What do you love about where you live?
• What do you want to share with the world?

Community members of all ages soon filled these panels with uplifting pictures and words. For instance, here are a few responses to the last question:

• Hope
• Love
• Animals are awesome!
• Don’t judge somebody just because they’re small.
• I’m already sharing my amazing kids who contribute so much to their community.
• That wonderful feeling of peace when the first thought of the day is “Thank you.”
• Purple is the best color ever!

The panels stayed up for several weeks–filling with more and more positive pictures and uplifting artwork–until the new windows were installed.

The Takeaway

It may sound trite, but this experience really did remind me that even an act of senseless destruction can lead to something extremely positive. I know that, unfortunately, there will always be idiots–whether it’s a small group of hate-filled extremists or a single deranged individual carrying out a personal vendetta. And yes, they can cause damage. They can create a dangerous environment. And they can even cause a temporary shut-down of positive services (such as a library providing free books, art, and education).

But in the end, positivity wins. Hope wins. Goodness wins. Laughter and joy and learning and growth and art and creativity win. Love wins.

In this case (and many other cases), the spirit of positivity didn’t just balance out the destruction–it overwhelmed it! One act of destruction led to hundreds of positive messages seen by thousands of people. And this is the spirit that’s going to live on–long after the windows are replaced and the messages are moved. This is what prevails. This is what lasts. And, ultimately, this is what matters.

Happy New Year!

I hope you had a wonderful time celebrating the end of 2018 and the start of 2019!

Even though 2019 has just arrived, I’m already thinking about 2020…and it’s all Cat Deeley’s fault!

You see, last year I watched her show, This Time Next Year, in which people declared their intentions for what they wanted to accomplish over the course of the year…and immediately revealed whether or not they reached these goals.

In the show’s first segment, Cat interviewed them about their current life and what they’d like to be different in a year. Then the resolution-makers walked backstage and, mere moments later (for the TV audience), reemerged after a year had gone by (for them) — an apparent miracle of time travel (which I assume was an illusion created by filming the show’s first half and second half a year apart — although, with technology being what it is these days, you never know)! 😉

Regardless of the time-travel “miracle” (or post-production illusion), the real miracle was the transformation that so many of the participants made in their lives — from overcoming major physical challenges to gaining confidence and independence thanks to the help of a seeing-eye dog.

And, as the show’s producers undoubtedly intended, these transformations got me thinking about my own life, asking:

• Where do I want to be this time next year?
• What do I want my life to look like and feel like in a year?
• How do I want to be different?

When I imagine being on this show, I see myself emerging from the “Next Year”  entrance holding two books that I’ve written: one recently published book plus a completed manuscript of a new one.

More than the tangible results of the year, however, I see (and feel) myself radiating health, happiness, ease, and confidence. I’m smiling authentically, speaking and listening from the heart, and connecting meaningfully with others. I’m living in the moment, comfortable in my life. I’m appreciating what is and feeling eager for what’s to come.

(I’ve also got a healthy glow thanks to spending lots of time at the beach!) 🙂

Yes, it’s nice to imagine myself glowing with vitality while holding my two new books, but honestly, if I’ve got the inner part of the equation, the rest is gravy.

How about you? What would you say if you were on this show? If Cat Deeley asked you to describe your life right now — as well as the life you’d like to be living this time next year — what would you tell her? And, if all went well, how do you imagine yourself during the “Next Year” portion of the show? What would you tell Cat about your situation in early 2020? What’s different about your life? What have you accomplished? How do you look and feel? What is it like to be future-you living this future-life?

When you imagine this best-case scenario, see if you can visualize it in your mind’s eye and experience the emotions right now. And then ask yourself these questions:

• How did I do it?
• How did I get from where I was at the beginning of 2019 to this great place where I am right “now” (in early 2020, that is)?
• Who helped me in this journey of transformation?
• What steps did I take?
• What made the biggest difference?
• What was the first step I took to begin this transformation?

And then, after you’ve taken some time to bask in the joy of your triumphant transformation, go and take that first step.

If you read this post’s title quickly, you might think it asked that common question: “What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?” And yes, in spite of being a cliché, this would have been a good question to ask. Like its spin-offs (e.g., “What would you do if you had a million dollars?” or “…if money were no object?”), it removes obstacles such as doubt, insecurity, or external limitations.

So, what would you do if success were guaranteed? Write a book? Start a business? Run for office? Pursue a career in art, music, dancing, or some other passion? Start a foundation to help animals, the environment, or homeless people?

The point of this hypothetical question, obviously, is to think about what you really want to do — without triggering the all-too-common reaction of immediately arguing for your limitations (namely, launching into all the reasons why you can’t pursue — or can’t reach –your dreams). When you put aside those excuses, doubts, and limitations, all that’s left is passion, love, and success.

But that’s not the way the world works.

In the real world, there’s almost never a guarantee of success. Almost everything you can imagine doing carries a degree of risk. And although it’s not always the case, it often feels like the greater the risk, the greater the potential reward.

When you think realistically about what you might want to do, you need to factor in the very real risks. So a more realistic question might be: “What would you do if you knew you could fail?”

In other words, what do you feel so passionate about that it would be worth taking a risk in order to pursue it? What matters so much to you that you’re willing to face the very real chance of failure — because the possibility of success compels you to at least try?

If you really want to follow that dream of devoting your life to creative expression, politics, entrepreneurial ventures, or philanthropy, you’ll do it anyway, even though you know that the dream might not come true.

(For instance, Jodi and I just started watching a TV series called Inside Jokes, which follows aspiring stand-up comedians auditioning for the Just for Laughs festival. As they pursue their dreams, they know all too well that they might fail. [In fact, the vast majority of aspiring comics don’t make it big in this world.] Yet they love what they do so much that they’re willing to risk it for the chance of spending their life sharing their thoughts, expressing their true selves, and making people laugh.)

So it’s great to consider what dreams and ambitions you’d pursue if success were guaranteed, but it’s more realistic to consider the possibility of failure and see what you’d still pursue anyway.

But now let’s take these hypothetical questions one step further by asking a question at the pessimistic end of the spectrum: “What would you do if you knew you WOULD fail?”

This might seem like a negative question, bound to lead you into depressing territory: thoughts of failure, shattered dreams, and a wasted life. But I think that just the opposite is true: This question encourages you to think of something you love so much that you’d do it no matter what — not simply because you might “make it big” but because the activity itself is inherently rewarding. This question encourages you to pursue the things that make life worthwhile, the things that feel as essential as breathing, the things that you never want to live without. It encourages you to do what you love.

So, think about this question for yourself: What would you do even if you knew you’d never “succeed” (at least not by society’s definition)? What brings the most joy into your life? What makes you feel the most alive, the most fully you? What are you passionate about…not because it might lead to something “bigger and better,” but because the activity itself is a life-affirming expression of your true self?

The good news is that when you pursue what you love, you’ve got a much better chance of making it big in terms of worldly success. But the even better news is that when you pursue what you love, regardless of the risks involved, you have the innate joy, satisfaction, and fulfillment of knowing that you’re living your calling — no matter where it does or doesn’t lead you. This way, even if you “fail” at your calling, you’ll be living a full, rich, authentic life.

And that is true success.

The two most powerful magic words I know aren’t open sesame, presto chango, or even por favor. They’re two words that have the power to open your heart and mind to limitless possibilities and innovations: what if.

Just like Ali Baba used open sesame to reveal treasure by opening what had appeared to be solid rock, what if has the power to crack open seemingly impassable (or impossible) obstacles, revealing the treasure within them.

And just like magicians might say presto chango to change one thing into another, what if can transform a roadblock into an opportunity.

For instance, if you encounter a roadblock in your business, you can approach it in several ways: You could try to power your way through it, like drilling through solid rock. You could simply throw your hands up in defeat and give up altogether. Or you could say what if… 

• “What if there were another way of looking at this?”
• “What if I could connect with someone who could help me move beyond this?”
• “What if this challenge turns out to be a blessing in disguise?”
• “What if this ‘obstacle’ is actually keeping me safe or pointing the way toward a better solution?”

The same holds true for creative blocks, personal challenges, or almost any difficulty you might face. Instead of saying, “I don’t know what to do.” You could ask yourself, “What if I did know the answer?” or “What if I tried a different approach?”

You can also use these words to ease your way into far-fetched affirmations. For instance, if positive affirmations such as “I am a powerful creator of unlimited abundance” or “I feel absolutely amazing in every way” feel too pie-in-the-sky for you (in other words, you feel like you’re lying to yourself when you say them), you could rephrase them starting with what if: “What if I could create more abundance in my life?” or “What if I could start to feel even a little bit better today?”

And when it comes to writing, nothing’s more powerful than these words (often called “The Magic What-If”), which form the beginning of almost every great premise:

• What if a girl from Kansas were transported to a magical land?
• What if a prince and a pauper switched places?
• What if teenagers from feuding families fell in love?

You’d be amazed at what wisdom you reveal within yourself when you simply open to the possibilities these two seemingly simple words can point you toward. However, like so many other magic words, when misused, what if has the power to cause immense suffering. When you look back at your life and think “What if…” about missed opportunities, these words can fill you with unbearable regret:

• “What if I’d pursued my big dream instead of playing it safe?”
• “What if I’d jumped at that opportunity while I had the chance?”
• “What if I’d dared to reach beyond my comfort zone?”
• “What if I’d answered my true calling?”
• “What if I’d said yes?”

Used in this context, the magic of what if turns into the heartbreak of if only.

Even in these moments of regret-filled reflections, however, you can pivot these magic words to help you open to wondrous possibilities. For instance, you could ask yourself:

• “What if there’s still time to pursue that dream?”
• “What if it’s all working out in divine timing?”
• “What if that window of opportunity hasn’t fully closed yet?”
• “What if that window of opportunity did close…but another better one is now open?”
• “What if those years weren’t ‘wasted’ after all, but were the perfect amount of time I needed to gain wisdom, experience, and the desire to move forward?”

No matter what your dreams may be, what obstacles you may face, or what regrets you may feel, these two little words — what if — can help you bring more magic into your life. You might not fully believe it, but what if you did?

…

P.S. If one of your dreams is to write a book that inspires — but you’ve felt overwhelmed by all the challenges involved — Your Soulful Book can help you avoid regret (of looking back, years from now, thinking, “What if I HAD written that book?”) and embrace positive possibilities (“What if I DO write my book this year?”)!

This heart-centered program (created by me and my wife, Jodi Chapman) provides all the tools, resources, and community/one-on-one support you need to successfully write, publish, and market your book.

To learn all about this program and take the next step toward your dream of holding your very own book — and sharing it with the world — please visit www.yoursoulfulbook.com.

I like to think of myself as a reasonably intelligent guy, but today I did something that was just plain stupid. It didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t a good thing to do. And my timing was absolutely terrible.

In retrospect, I can see that it was stupid. What makes it even worse, though, is that I realized that it was stupid before I started doing it — and even while I was doing it — yet I kept on doing it anyway.

Just to set the scene: this is one of the busiest times of the year for me. I’m launching two major programs in the next few weeks. I have to prepare to teach a brand-new class two days from now, followed by a completely different brand-new class the day after that. I also have to finish a workbook and film an instructional video. Plus, I have to reply to several people via Facebook and email regarding setting up video conferences and one-on-one sessions about their own projects. And I haven’t been getting a ton of sleep.

The good news is that I’m fairly organized; so when I walked into my office this morning, I knew exactly what I needed to do. What I actually did, however, was something completely different:

I wrote.

More specifically: I worked on my book — a passion project that’s completely unrelated to my upcoming classes, launches, and video sessions.

I know, I know — it doesn’t make any sense. With everything going on, the responsible thing would have been to get straight to work, going through each task in order of priority, based on how time-sensitive it is. Maybe if I had any extra time at the end of the day, I could have written. Or, better yet, simply relax, unwind, and recharge for the busy day I’ll have tomorrow. That would’ve been the smart thing to do.

Like I said, I knew all this before I sat down to write. And as I flipped through my notes and typed the first few sentences, I realized that there was still time to turn back — there was still time to do the smart, logical, responsible thing and get right to the pressing business of the day. But instead, I did the stupid thing: I kept writing. And writing. And writing.

(And then, when I finally finished the section I was working on, instead of getting straight to work, I doubled down on the stupidity by writing this post!) 😜

Why would I do something so stupid? Am I just a dumb guy? Irresponsible? A flake? Although you might get different answers depending on who you ask, I like to think that this isn’t the case. I think that what made me sit down to write (and keep writing for several hours) was a higher intelligence: call it the whispers of the soul, the heart, or my true self — but there was something urging me to follow that calling to write, no matter how little sense it made, no matter how unproductive it may have made me, no matter how “stupid” it may have been.

And what I found was that, rather than leaving me drained, depleted, scattered, or stressed, it energized me. It made me more focused and motivated to keep moving forward with my work tasks. It left me feeling satisfied, full, and happy. And above all, it just felt right.

Yes, taking time to write may have seemed stupid, but I’m glad I did it. And I’d do it again. (And hopefully, I will — again and again and again.)

…

How about you? Have you been called to do anything “soulfully stupid” lately? Something that your heart and soul is urging you to act on…even if your logical, practical mind doesn’t think it makes sense? What would happen if for a little while today — even just for an hour or so — you gave yourself permission to be a bit “stupid”?

P.S. If you’ve ever thought about writing a book that inspires people, I hope you’ll check out these free writing tools that my wife, Jodi, and I created to help you realize this dream: two helpful workbooks + a video series, “5 Essential Keys to Writing, Publishing, and Marketing Your Soulful Book.”

Please click here to learn more, watch the videos, and download the free workbooks.

I just read the words “Idle time is the devil’s workshop” for about the thousandth time, but it just now struck me how cynical, fear-based, and diametrically opposed to my own worldview this proverb is. Maybe it’s because I recently took almost a week off — five days filled (or not filled) with lots of idle time…and no sign of the devil!

Those days off were wonderful. My wife and I relaxed, took afternoon naps, went to the beach, explored a nearby town we’d never visited, played tennis (for the first time in about 16 years!), went on a real date, ate yummy food, played board games, saw the new documentary about Mr. Rogers (Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, which is so good that it merits at least an entire blog post of its own — for now, I’ll just say: go see it!), spent an afternoon doing volunteer work, discussed long-range dreams, and enjoyed in-the-moment experiences.

I also spent some time on my own, during which I finished reading a novel and started another (both by Paul Auster, whose novels I’ve been consuming voraciously of late), finished reading a nonfiction book (The One Thing by Gary Keller with Jay Papasan — which feels like a life-changer for me) and started another (Daniel Goleman’s Focus — so far, so good), and watched the All-Star game (which turned out to be one for the ages — complete with classic match-ups, a ninth-inning game-tying home-run, and extra-inning heroics). I also spent a lot of time lying in the hammock, watching the clouds, daydreaming, and doing a whole lot of nothing!

In other words, I was largely idle. And it was absolutely idyllic.

I emerged from my “staycation” feeling rested and renewed. I got inspiration for creative projects. I also enjoyed the idle time while I was in the midst of it. And during all that idle time, I somehow managed to stay out of trouble. I never had to fight the urge to do anything mean or hurtful. I never felt the devil working within me. If anything, I experienced the exact opposite: angels of joy inspiring my mind with creativity and filling my heart with love and appreciation.

I know I’m not alone in this type of experience. In small chunks of downtime or during extended vacations, millions of people all around the world enjoy the soul-refreshing experience of idle time each and every day. And our lives and our world are enriched because of it.

These experiences run exactly counter to the “devil’s workshop” proverb, which assumes that people are inherently bad and that, left to our own devices, we’d get up to all sorts of devilish mischief. From this perspective, if our hands aren’t restrained (literally by manacles or figuratively by constant work and busyness) we’ll end up hurting others.

How cynical! How ludicrous! And how patently untrue!

The way I see it, idle time merely allows your true self to flow to the forefront of your life. And because I believe that most people are inherently good, I believe that idle time provides a space for that goodness to emerge. To use the Abraham-Hicks analogy, our true self is like a cork in water: unless you’re doing something to actively keep it down (such as running yourself ragged through overwork or lowering your vibration by complaining), the cork will rise to the top.

This doesn’t mean that we should spend the rest of our lives in a hammock — never working, never taking action, never taking out the garbage. A full, joyful life includes all sorts of inspired action — such as creative endeavors, traveling, working, learning, and giving back to others. (There are also many things that, like it or not, ya just gotta do — such as taking out the garbage.)

But a happy, healthy, balanced life also includes plenty of idle time — time to rest your body, recharge your soul, let your “cork” float up, take stock of your life, and simply enjoy the present moment. Rest assured, idle time is nothing to fear. As long as you are a good person (and you ARE!), leisure time will allow your true self to shine brighter than ever. It will inspire you to live an even richer life. It will make your loved ones happier, and it will make the world a better place.

So I hope that sometime soon (and on an ongoing, regular basis) you allow yourself some time to step away from it all. Time in which your hands aren’t busy. Time in which you invite your angels into your heart and mind — and let them play.