Some things can't be grasped.
They grasp you.
“Collecting the dots. Then connecting them. And then sharing the connections with those around you. This is how a creative human works. Collecting, connecting, sharing.” ~ Amanda Palmer
I’ve been collecting, connecting and sharing dots my entire life, and a little over a year ago the most crucial ones lit up all at once—like stars suddenly resolving into a constellation.
The resultant “Three Truths Nobody Tells You”—the shift from scripted survival to responsive creation—became glaringly clear to me, and many who’ve participated in the group discussions have told me that it feels intuitively right to them.
However, I continue to hear that the concepts are extremely difficult to live. And so I often wonder why that is and, more importantly, what to do about it (if you have ideas, let me know).
Why is a bit easier for me to imagine. Picture someone fighting the current their whole life—getting stronger, getting better at fighting it—never once asking where the river wants to go. This new way of perceiving and attending to life asks for something this conditioning was never built for. It asks us to stop swimming and look at the water.
And there are some things that simply cannot be forced into understanding. No matter how hard you think, how much you read, how relentlessly you conceptualize. Instead, through deep reflection and novel experiences, they just... click. And then life grasps you.
Here’s what I mean. Read this:
A newspaper is better than a magazine. A seashore is a better place than the street. At first it is better to run than to walk. You may have to try several times. It takes some skill but it is easy to learn. Even young children can enjoy it. Once successful, complications are minimal. Birds seldom get too close. Rain, however, soaks in very fast. Too many people doing the same thing can also cause problems. One needs lots of room. If there are no complications it can be very peaceful. A rock will serve as an anchor. If things break loose from it, however, you will not get a second chance.
It doesn’t make sense, does it? It seems random. Purposeless. You can feel yourself reaching for meaning that won’t quite come—turning the words over, looking for the seam. That reaching, that low hum of frustration just before something resolves—that’s the feeling. Hold it.
Because once “it” reveals itself, once it grasps you, everything shifts in an instant. Not gradually. All at once. And you’ll never be confused by it again.
It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been in the dark. When the light comes on, it comes on completely. And what was opaque becomes obvious, and simple, and alive.
Like flying a paper kite against the dancing summer sky.
(Go back and read it again.)
P.S. I’ll be reaching out shortly to schedule additional Zoom conversations with subscribers. If something in this piece landed for you—or didn’t—bring it. Connecting the dots is easier when we do it together.
Stay passionate!
Yay more zoom! Looking forward to it.