Moving on.

I could have stayed there.

At least theoretically.

I could have kept on doing what I had been doing.

Forever and ever.

Doing what I knew how to do pretty well.

Nice and safe and predictable and successful.

I could have been a copywriter, still.

A creative director.

A 3P coach.

A non-dual teacher.

A cynical twitter master.

Or a singer, even.

I could have.

But I didn’t.

Because one day life took that away from me.

One day I simply lost interest.

And had to move on.

Just like I lost interest in being an alcoholic.

A depressed dad.

An anxious lost and lonely person.

One day it stopped.

And I moved on.

Now what?

What’s next?

We’ll see.

How unpredictable.

How alive.

How amazing.

Knowing that I’ll land somewhere else and be excited again.

Old thing out, new thing in.

A conscious drifter.

Nothing is impossible.




(Photo by @tuzbro, for Unsplash)

The one life.

The one life.