“Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.” - Marcus Aurelius
My daily writing practice is a meditation in which I dump the thoughts in my mind onto a piece of paper – usually stream of consciousness – no looking back to make corrections; just flow. I adopt a stance of progress above perfection. I find that by doing this first thing, early in the day, straight from bed, helps me to defrag my mind, dealing with the flash-bangs and autopilot humdrum of everyday life, filing away messy or loose-hanging bits and letting whatever comes up play itself out.
I tend to write about the things I want to achieve that day, ‘the things I want to grab today’, along with a mindful scan of my body and the daily gifts, beginning always with naming and visualising the face and ‘spirit’ or energy of my immediate close family. I begin to ‘feel’ this in the fibres of my body, I see Aimee, mamma, papa, seeing them, their glows and energy, thanking God for each as they individually appear and then disappear in the 3D photo album of my mind's eye. I see my brother, my sister, De Louw, her husband, and their extended family. For they are now that inner circle. I ‘see’ Jordan and Megan as if they are my own. This is my tribe. The people who, along with the angels and cheerleaders and teachers, shaped me. These are the gardeners of our souls.
This meditation lasts for about 25-30 minutes, until I get to three pages of hand-written illegible, prescription-like text that perhaps only pharmacists are skilled enough to decrypt. This I have come to know, is a profound practice. But it takes work. Energy. Mental lifting. I’d much rather be out there running along the river.
At first I caught myself saying ‘I’d rather be running along the river, or at yoga, or spinning and that sun’s coming up soon!’, itching to get some music piping flow into my legs as the synapses start to fire. I love the energy along the river here. Living right beside the Harrods Depositary (I roll it around on my tongue for fun; harrodsdepositary harrodssuppositary, and enjoy a little boyish laugh)
I set up my approach for the glide into flow, along the Thames. It normally takes around 20-30 minutes, depending on my running fitness that week. Adding some push-ups and handstands, pulling up into trees etc. to further enhance spiking flow. My precious machine slowly begins to warm to a hum. Good tracks, some obstacles and nature, maybe a dip in the river. The icier the better for changing my state. The closer we get to the earth, and the more primal our activities, the better. Risk aversion, triggering ‘fight or flight responses’ and knowing how to, perhaps with some inversions like handstands or even just chasing lions (successfully I might add) will spike flow.
Cycling (any and all terrains), running, brisk walks, yoga, dancing and gym-play, aided by toe-tapping tunes are my favourite ways to create flow. Every now and then, there’s a black and white photo - and in it - a perfectly imperfect rose. Lush bright red with crisp little dewdrops and brilliant green stems. I think that this is the moment when synapses start to fire up, my consciousness sparks. I become selfless, tasks become effortless, the environment around me flares up with colour and richness, I lose track of time and boom, I’m in flow.
Something from above - be it consciousness, or God or a cute little alien granny with cool kit - something bigger than me at least; an 'outside-in' flow of energy provides a jolting shift. My senses sharpen. Light streams in. But it takes work, and that’s usually all before 7 or 8 am. Energy is an amazing human currency. The 'on' switch is located in the mind, for the mind is in command. It tells the body what to do. I learn to unlearn to relearn to be my own best coach. This is my armour. I do whatever it takes to get through the belly of the beast.
I watch pre-dawn rowers rehearse the final hump of the Uxbridge Boat Race, the leafy stretches from Hammersmith to Mortlake, floating on early morning light and fog.
These are my ‘Sacred Moments’. I trick my mind into offering myself the run as a reward, post-writing. That’s the second big flow-state inducing activity of my day. Alongside running or brisk walks, yoga and gym-play with toe-tapping tunes are my favourite ways to create flow.
I think that this is what it must feel like when neuroplasticity takes place; when my synapses and consciousness spark, and things begin to flow making connections to things and colours and sounds and tastes. I asked for it. My prayer became my focus.
''Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying: “Whom shall I send. And who will go for Us?”
Then I said, “Here am I! Send me.” - Isiah 6:8
It takes doing 'The Work', or the Grind or the Hustle; loading up blind belief for the rest of the day. Faith and energy. That's usually all done by 7 or 8 am. Energy is an amazing human currency. I remind myself that 'the switch' is located in my mind. The mind is in command. It tells my body what to do. I learn to unlearn to relearn to be my own best coach. This is my armour in the belly of the beast.
When this little dance works, I’m on fire. Movin’ and groovin’. I literally dance my way through the day. Humming and singing. But it takes doing ‘The Work''. Living intentionally, often hijacking the control tower to ensure the right language and thoughts are directed into the mind and body. Without this there is no flow.
I imagine myself on a beautiful thoroughbred at full tilt as it launches itself into the air, in perfect flight. For a brief moment in time, the universe is in a state of perfect harmony. Like a good marriage. Trust, loving kindness, absolutely clear communication. Grappling with and holding the tension, understanding with love and kindness, and working with themes of control. If you've ever tried to dominate a horse you're probably not into horses. I'm willing to bet my bicycle it didn't go well.
Grateful for the simple things. Being able to stick your tongue out of your mouth in Lion’s breath. There was a moment when I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do this again. When I was doing the 'magic carpet' bit of our yoga teacher training, I became known for a few things:
Lion's breath (sticking your tongue out like the All Blacks performing the haka, using breath to build fierce grace, an anchor in times of fight and flight, literally visualising All Blacks, their posture and faces, hanging upside down in downward dog, eyes closed. I'd call for a 'Fuck Yes'' and I'd get a response.
The third one would normally lift the room. Themes of Ubuntu and becoming 'Unfuckwithable', building resilience, humble grit, holding the tension, playing right to the edge. I spent a few years working in busy London yoga studio's, on what they call Karma memberships which allows free yoga in return for doing voluntary shifts as a 'community connector'. You serve by sweeping floors and rolling up mats. Helping with whatever needs to be done. The 'downward-dogs body'. I loved it. I did a 6-9 am shift and got to connect with so many interesting people; lawyers, doctors, actors, founders, consultants, politicians, teachers, and many more - some of whom might be reading this now -each looking for a moment of respite from the flash-bangs in their day. Or perhaps just to fire up their flow. Straddling the tightrope between over-achievement and burn-out. I'm so very grateful for that chapter in my life.
After the moped street attack in March this year whilst out on the bike I was unable to eat solids for about 7-8 weeks. In fact, I was told that due to the surgical procedure, that there would be a chance that I wouldn't be able to speak like I used to.
There's a large nerve running along the lower jaw bone all the way up to the ear. The Max Fax surgeons spent 4 hours reconstructing my lower jaw inserting titanium plates in through 2 cm incisions in my lower cheek. I remember that little belly of the beast moment.
Lying in surgery, looking up at these angels, reassuring me, comforting me. Breathe, I told myself as breathing tubes ran through my nose and throat. My last moments, before the anaesthesia kicked in, was talking to the English accented Indian and Pakistani surgeons about cricket.
They picked up an accent and as these things go, talk turned to South African cricket. My fear of what might come next was instantly replaced by an irrational response to the visual images in my head. Maybe it was the morphine, or ketamine or whatever, but I saw (no, felt) green and gold then drifted off into the most comfortable sleep of my life. There’s a visceral wokeness in what a day can do for you. Always ‘for’ you, not ‘to’ you. It took a long time to learn that powerful reframe.
''Abandon all attachment to the results of action and attain supreme peace.'' - Bhavagad Ghita
Chaos and order swivel around us like an electromagnetic compass on a phone; always-on, ever present, 24 hours a day. For a Founding CEO in a scaling global software company the implications of ‘slipping’ from this discipline, the day-to-day routines that bring flow and wellness, can lead to extremes. We live in a world of abundance. We truly do. The Uber’s and Slack’s now allow us precious meetings with Sydney, Hong Kong, London, New York, perhaps even L.A. in one day. Add to this mix disruption; the political ‘cirque de soleil’ we woke up to some years ago. The words Brexit, Backstop, No deal are now etching into our collective DNA, violently beaten into us on a daily basis by political forces and the media does what they do, they compete to report the media, and so the cycle goes as we hurtle towards the dizzying frenzy. This produces spectrums of behaviours and brutal conditions. Those closest to us are often the one's to suffer most. This storm has devastating impact well beyond the eye of the needle.
Protecting the sacred space in my day; to connect with myself, then others, to emote, to be human. This is much more than winning and losing. (I hear the voice of Al Pacino in my head) I would much rather lose a game knowing the process is getting better, than to win without being able to know how and why. How will it feel when eventually we do lose, as we take on more Goliaths, and don't know how to climb out of the pit.
Process, discipline, rituals, building day-to-day experiences that nourish heart, mind and gut health, connecting and cheering one another on, celebrating the things we have in common.
I now find myself asking, often. How do we move past this brief uncomfortable moment, to a place where we are able to provide lift and thrust to those around us? How do we help one another become better versions of ourselves? Daily OS upgrades. To connect, belong, to feel safe, to be well, to thrive.
My path onto the mat began with a setback. The kind where your world stops. If you’re lucky you get to move through life events via orderly life-stage transitions. Maybe even in one country. Living the human condition, and a life of abundance and love, comes with inevitable loss and suffering. In fact, according to the greats, this is where the work begins.
The past is our definition. We may strive, with good reason to escape it but we will escape it only by adding something better to it.”
– Wendell Berry
We lose friends, parents, loved ones, perhaps a job or even worse, a sense of purpose and direction. If you’re lucky you get through this one step or one millimetre or one second whatever it takes, at a time. You just keep on keeping on. Hoping you only ever have to face one of these existential threats at a time – you end up looking back, grateful for the nudge, or lesson or perhaps just a sign, a little spark. The red rose that helps you connect-the-dots and weave a story that makes sense of the utter bat-shit crazy inexplicable things; the stuff that, no matter how much work we put in - we are never really meant to fully understand, let alone reconcile. We adopt a posture of acceptance and move on.
The magical thing about it all is that we’re always one step, one event, one day, one decision, one yes, one spark away from shifting the odds and stacking the cards in our favour. Edging along the spectrum. We learn to accept, to be brave, to have faith, and to do what we can with what we have. And to do so audaciously.
The sacred space is where it begins.
“It may be that when we no longer know which way to go that we have come to our real journey. The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings. -Wendell Berry
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