Fam,
Thanks to those of you who read this, and an extra big thank you to those that financially contribute. This time, I’ve specifically formatted it with the reader in mind. It’s still a bit long, but it’s focused less on my experience and more on the lessons you can take from it.
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Before the month even started, November was the most meticulously I’d planned a month. I planned farther in advance and in more detail, day by day, just to make sure I could squeeze everything in. I still managed to mix up which island I was supposed to be on, but still, I did pretty well with visualizing a successful future…
Nov 3: finish guiding 9-week corporate course for connecting to self, others, and purpose.
Nov 4-6: Fly to LA to complete advanced breath work course. Practice seeing, exchanging, and guiding energy.
Nov 7-15: Fly to Hawai’i for a retreat hosted by the Center for Emotional Education. They said “come with your big issue”, asked what our shoe size was for snorkel gear, and what our favourite meals were.
November 16-22: Solitude in Maui, to reflect on what I learned, learning to sit with the uncomfortable emotions and thoughts that arise when we do not distract or numb ourselves.
November 24-25: Drive to Fernie to celebrate four years since the day Britt and I met. Walk the streets engaging with our five senses, buying intentional house warming gifts for close friends and little treats for each other. Cozy glasses of wine, candle light, a glass jar full of memories, and another glass jar full of dreams. Joy for the past, the present, and the future. Also, a spontaneous disappearance of my beard and comedic appearance of a dirty moustache that curves just a bit too low around the lips for comfort.
November 26-30: Keep driving deeper into the winter wonderland to spend quality time in Nelson with close friends. Laughing around the fire pit under the stars. Movie nights. Cold plunges in Kootenay lake, howling “we’re alive!” as our bodies adjusted to the icy bliss. Conversations about the nature of reality. Spending a little time with a Ouija board and a pendulum. They didn’t think the moustache was all that funny, and that I mostly pulled it off. I was confused.
Nov 30: Drive back to Calgary. Intellectually and emotionally supported by a friend who gave me space to vent much of my emotional frustration, irritation, and resentment about everything from how someone treated me a year ago to the current state of the world. His own perspectives on the personal elements and genius knowledge of world dynamics helped me feel understood on a granular level of detail.
Dec 1: Drive to Edmonton for the Christmas party of my real estate firm. Luxurious hotel, classy drinks, delicious food, velvet blazer, and two flow state conversations with two strangers about how life is going.
Dec 2: Everyone left Edmonton before I’d even woke up. My arranged ride forgot I was going with her. I simply laughed and started booking a bus. The last car to leave turned back to come get me.
Dec 3: Grandma’s 91st birthday. She wants a Chinese buffet. I enjoy the family time. A year ago today, I was curled in fetal position in a lumpy bed in a Days’ Inn, wondering if I’d made a terrible mistake by walking away from my possessions, income, loved ones, and safety net, in order to discover a deeper version of myself. This year, I was eating ginger beef, happy that my brother and sister were making fun of my weird facial hair, and looking forward to a productive December of getting ready for a big 2023. I hadn’t made a mistake after all…
From here I was planning to go back to Port Alberni, to visit family I had spent some of my most quality time with while I’d been traveling, but I ended up shelving this for later. I was exhausted, and surprised by it. In fact, I was so exhausted, that since Dec 4th, for the last week, I’ve been the sickest I can remember being. Sleeping every day, heavy cough, weak muscles, itchy dreams, and a complete betrayal of the jam-packed schedule I had for December of reading, spending time with grandma, meditating, exercise, and planning for India. The doozy was trying to get 30 podcasts recorded/edited/uploaded so that I could finally release the best of what I had created while I was on the road. It was hanging over my head, and I needed (only) five hours every day to get the project halfway done…
No luck. My body said enough. I looked back over the wild November and how it all ended up with me in bed, frustrated, confused, disappointed, and annoyed, not accomplishing much at all. After a day of that misery, it started to give way to acceptance. Ok, I am sick. High energy output it not even an option right now. Then, curiosity. How did this happen? What signs did I miss? How was I not taking care of myself properly? As we sit with the questions, the answers start to come through, like wisps of a dream, or like a pile of bricks. And the answers feel more real than the body chills and pounding head. The sickness starts to seem insignificant compared to the value of the messages coming through. And so, I’ve luxuriously languished, feeding my body supplements and oils, noting the beauty and simplicity of the healing process.
This email shares 10 things I learned from the last month, in all its highs and lows. If any of it resonates with you, or you’d like to explore how some of these ideas land in your own life, feel free to book something with me here.
Breath work
Neuro-emotional coaching
Conflict/hard conversation preparation
Reconnect to purpose
Guided reflection
Fabricated fun falls flat.
I had a convertible sports car, a hotel room twenty feet from the beach, and woke up to palm trees, good coffee, and day after day of endless possibilities. And, to be honest, it wasn’t a liberation from much at all. I was still thinking thoughts charged with indecision, irritation, frustration, resentment, and loneliness. When I sat on the beach and did nothing, I felt like I should be doing something more adventurous; when I was adventuring, I kept reminding myself that this was supposed to be restful. Creating an external environment that encourages enjoyment will wither against the internal reality of your emotional experience. Even so, it is a powerful game of awareness to sit in paradise and notice all the ways in which your mind takes you away from the present. It may not be the vacation I’d hoped for, but I came back with a clear list of everything that was still getting in my way. It’s a lot easier to get out of the traps when you know they are there.
Planning your life in advance and in detail is only as strong of a strategy as you are willing to modify it as you go.
Manifestors will tell you to get really specific about what you want, but their real magic is helping you generating an emotional response to that outcome, and then moving forward while embodying that emotion now. I see a lot of people fixate on the future, trading their enjoyment of the present in hopes of enjoying the outcome later on. What started out as that embodying feeling of joy can slowly turn to worry and doubt, and as they feel those emotions, they work harder to get closer to the goal. Suddenly they are repelling their dreams because they can’t even accept their current reality. Success isn’t an external achievement that comes one day. It’s our ability to show up to each moment with awareness of how we are feeling and honouring the beauty of that moment. Even when - especially when - life around us isn’t reflecting back what we expected. Our plan isn’t broken, it’s just ready for a revisit, a new ingredient, a modification, or maybe just a rest. What’s the rush? We can only make friends with the future by first making friends with the present.
Kick the crutches for a couple weeks, see what it’s like to walk on your own feet.
While I was in Hawaii, I cut out cannabis, sugar, alcohol, orgasms, scrolling, and, barely consumed any meat. Basically, anything that distracted from or numbed out the here and now. I don’t think any of those things are inherently bad, but I wanted to know what my natural neurochemistry was like without all these modulators. It’s pretty powerful to sit on a beach, watching the waves roll along the shore, gazing at sea turtles and dolphins and noticing the quality of the thoughts that pull you back into your head. I didn’t resist them. I just wrote them down, as if I was listening to them, rather than identifying as the one thinking them. It wasn’t a long list, but they spent a lot of time looping. By the end of the week in paradise, I had the list of hell that still lives in my head. It definitely proved to be an uncomfortable experience, but the information I received shows me exactly where there is work to do. We find deep, unshakeable happiness by loosening our dependency on fast and fleeting external happiness. But we can only make that transition with compassion. We are not here to wage war on ourselves.
We all need spaces to vent our emotions without judgement.
I want to say all the things my resentment tells me. I want to spew the worry and doubt. I want to judge and criticize, complain and cling. And this is all useful, if we can create the right space to do so.
know you’re doing it. Be aware that these are just the stories your emotions tell, rather than an affirmation of your identity. Let it out by choice, rather than because you can’t take it any more. Bring compassion and consciousness to the experience.
ask for permission from the right people. Not everyone knows how to be with uncomfortable emotions and the irrationality and chaos that the human mind creates from that state. And those who do know how to support you need to be ready to do so. Did you check to see if they have the capacity for you to unload? Are they capable of knowing it’s not their job to pick up all the pieces or make sense of it?
don’t talk yourself out of the feelings half way through. If you’re stuck in resentment, keep pushing on it until you find it all. If you are feeling jealousy, imagine what the worst thing is that could happen and how it would crush you. Most people let a tiny bit of emotion come out and then the second they feel a sense of being heard, they start saying “buy anyways, i’m sure it’ll all work out.” Nope. Keep going.
Trade in caring what others think of you in exchange for how others are feeling about themselves.
Every morning in Hawaii, I woke up and did a half hour breath work session on the beach. People saw me, with my arms sweeping in the air, pumping my fists, sighing deeply with hands on my chest and stomach, arching my spine. Every morning, I thought “oh my god, everyone must think I’m so weird.” I felt embarrassment, but I didn’t stop, because I quickly reminded myself of the truth. If they were judging me for feeling good, for clearing my mind, for regulating my nervous system back to a state of genius, for healing my damn body, then they were judging themselves for virtually everything they did, and that was going to keep them in a permanent state of misery and insecurity. I didn’t need their approval. They needed my compassion.
Sometimes people we love will feel expansive to be around. Other times they will feel grounding.
In between adventures, I had a quiet night with Britt. We went out to the restaurant we met at, and enjoyed our favourite dishes on the menu. Britt and I observed a pattern lately that I was always getting energized elsewhere and then collapsing back into her arms, ready for peace and simplicity. Everywhere I go, I’m learning new ideas, meeting people, pushing on the fringes of my current reality. It’s always a challenge and there’s always intensity to everything. When Britt and I spend our most quality time together, it’s the other end of the pendulum. We are connecting with each other through connecting with the five senses. Good food. Slow walks. Visiting our favourite trees. Incense burning. Wine. Candlelight. Sometimes I am off worrying and imagining, and she tends the physical environment to lure me back. Sometimes, when she is worrying, I know the five senses are the best way to bring her mind back into balance. It’s a game of regulation, and we’re both on the same team. Our relationships will fluctuate - sometimes they will feel energizing and expansive, and other times they will be where we can return to the foundations of ourselves and meet each other there. I’m enjoying the grounding presence, because it wasn’t always like this. We’ve worked hard to become more regulated when we are together, and all the deepest joy and excitement has always come to us by starting from this place of peace.
“Not enough time” or “not enough money” is never the issue
Two of the most common excuses we use in life. When the founders of the Center For Emotional Education asked each of us to bring our Big Issue to Hawai’i, I chose to focus on my relationship with money, and the lingering feelings of scarcity I have around it. We had six days to work on the issue, but by day three, I realized there wasn’t six days worth of problems around money that needed to be solved. Not enough money? Money is just energy that flows from and towards us, like wind, like love, like inspiration. It’s not the point or result, it’s a byproduct of a process. Not enough time? What on earth does that even mean? Our lives can change in an instant, so our metric of the value of time is relative. The deeper you reflect on time, the more meaningless it becomes. The only reason we think about money and time like we do is because our hyper-materialist capitalist economy has most of us hired into the reality that we give up a certain about of our time in exchange for a certain amount of money. It’s not because that’s rational, it’s because it really helps businesses make money. It’s simply a system for organizing capital and distributing resources. Money isn’t the point and time doesn’t exist. We always have exactly the amount of money and right amount of time to learn the lesson that is right in front of us. Instead, ask yourself what this is really about: not enough love or connection? Not enough focus or clarity? Not enough purpose or vision? not enough vitality or safety? These are things we can work with, because now the game switched from blaming reality to empowering your internal exploration. I ended up realizing that for me, I was confusing the craving for money with the desire for more purpose and connection to others… and that my purpose is very much tied to connecting with others.
Getting sick is our bodies saying, “can we talk?”
People don’t get sick because they breathed in a virus, or because they were exposed to a contagion. They get sick because their body could not defend against the virus, fungi, bacteria, and contagions that are always present in the air we breathe. We get sick because our bodies are not running optimally. By the time we’re sick, it’s because we aren’t listening to, or aware of, a need our body has. Quality food. Ample rest. Plenty of water. Less sugar. More laughter. Playful movement. Human connection. New ideas. Emotional release and the subsequent embrace of the higher quality thoughts. Our worry about getting sick, sickens us. Our fear of physical failure welcomes disaster, because our minds love to be right. After a week in bed, of listening to my body and reflecting on this wild month, I’m strangely happy that I got sick. On Maui, I was constantly wondering whether I should rest or be productive, lounge or adventure. Now, in my grandma’s empty bedroom at the end of the hall, my body told me with full certainty what it needed, and stripped me of the choice to rebel. The goal, moving forward, is to be able to tune in earlier, to become more sensitive to what the body needs, so that I move in the direction that all our bodies want to go: physical strength, energetic enthusiasm, and passionate clarity.
Do less
When we are feeling overwhelm, uncertainty, frustration, confusion, impatience, or any related emotion, it’s easy to tell ourselves that if we could just do more, we would feel differently. It’s a beautiful trap for a hyper-productive mind. When I was caught debating whether I should be adventurous or sit quietly and do nothing, I started gravitating towards doing nothing. Perhaps I’d read a little, but otherwise I’d just breathe, stretch, and, a highlight, feed crumbs of crackers to a pigeon on my balcony. Sometimes, it would feel like I was wasting time. My physiology would constantly pull my awareness to things I really should be doing. But I’m not interested in operating from that mindset. For me, rest is rebellion, and doing less is a protest against the addiction to productivity. If you’re not feeling your best, do less. Feel more. Meet your basic needs. Define success in a way that leaves you feeling better, thinking clearer, and doing the bare minimum to make the largest internal shift. Then, whatever you do next, it’ll feel more effortless anyways.
Cold plunges are genius
Kootenay Lake wasn’t frozen over, but there was ice along some of its edges. The thermostat was -10 celsius (26 F), and the water couldn’t have been warmer than 6 degrees (39 F). The first challenge is verbalizing to everyone around you that you’re going to do it, because if you say you’re going to do it, you better damn well follow through. The minute you utter the words, though, it gets easier, because everyone around you jumps in and says “I’m in!” Hard things are easier when we aren’t going through it alone. We changed into swimsuits, walked across the snowy beach, and paused for only one second at the water’s edge. Then, you specifically turn off your thinking mind, because thoughts will only try to talk you out of what happens next. Start walking in, and don’t slow down because it’s cold. Keep walking. The rocks hurt a bit on the feet, but the shock to your whole body distracts from that small pain. Matt starts the timer. We howl at the clouds. Snowflakes fall on our faces. The first thirty seconds are murder - your body acts like it’s going to die, your ego is dying, your very existence is not entirely material. You can scream if you need to, but you’ll also find its just as entertaining to take long, deep breaths, and soak in the silence of the sensation. Suddenly, as if on a timer, your body relaxes. Your breathing slows. The entire emotional landscape changes. Peace. Bliss. Intensity. Sure, it’s still cold, but it’s not as cold as it just was, so you think you might be able to make it another thirty seconds at least. Matt calls out the time. “One minute.” Everyone cheers each other on. Now your body hits a new level. You can definitely do this. You are doing it. This is it! I become silent. I focus on relaxing my shoulders, untensing my neck and jaw, and uncurling my fingers. The more I relax my body and mind here, the more relaxed I will be in any environment. “Two minutes!” At this point, we are just showing off. It feels easy. We are connected to our inner strength. Our bodies are celebrating. Yes, we are still consumed by the physical frigidity, but we are beyond resisting it. We are basking in the challenge. “Three minutes!” yells Matt, and I run giggling back into the house to warm up by the fireplace before enjoy a hot shower. My skin is red and covered in goosebumps. For the rest of the day, I feel a glow in my body that is me being aware of the strength that exists in my body and the power we can have over our minds.
Longer than I expected, but hope you find something here that inspires or clarifies. The trick was, writing this felt effortless, because I started by being willing to do only what felt good. If you’d like to explore anything with me that’s going on in your life, I’m available to guide some reflection!
Also, click below to listen to the latest episode of my podcast…
Cravings & Connections: The sweet and sour story of a childhood sugar addiction. Unlearning the lies taught to American soldiers. Learning to engage with the five senses to create emotional safety. The promise of a new friend. A father grieves at the bar on Christmas Eve.
Love you,
-Shua
Keep learning and sharing brother. Glad to see your posts again ✌️❤️