lifepath

Everything is made up

It happened again last week.

I was standing near the coffee counter after a long workshop day. One of the participants lingered back. Mid-career. Sharp mind. Good instincts. He spoke softly, almost apologetically, about a project he’d been postponing for years. A startup idea. A book. A change he could feel in his bones but hadn’t yet acted on.

He listed the usual reasons. Timing. Family. Market. Readiness.

I listened. I always do.

Then, without much thought, I said what I often say in these moments.

“Everything’s made up. And nothing matters.”

He laughed.

They always laugh.

Not because it’s funny.

But because it lands somewhere uncomfortable. Because part of them recognizes the truth before the mind rushes in to negotiate.

Waiting with Folded Wings

“He’ll join in five minutes,” the coordinator whispered, eyes fixed on her phone.

The room was already full. Forty chairs. Forty expectant faces. My slides were ready. My microphone was clipped. Five minutes stretched into ten. Someone in the front row adjusted his notebook. A woman near the aisle checked her watch. I stood there, holding a marker I didn’t need, rehearsing an opening I suddenly didn’t believe in.

I’ve done this hundreds of times. Boardrooms in different cities. Workshops with ambitious teams. Executive rooms where the air smells faintly of carpet cleaner and authority. Normally, I move easily into those spaces. I know how to carry the room. I know how to make people lean forward.

That morning, I couldn’t.

4

The Space Between Pain and Suffering

It was a small moment, almost forgettable.

I was sitting alone in my car outside a familiar café, engine off, phone in my hand, watching people drift past the windshield. Office-goers with hurried steps. A young couple arguing softly. An older man waiting patiently for someone who seemed late. I wasn’t waiting for anyone. I had arrived early for a meeting and decided not to rush inside.

I stayed.

There is something honest about these in-between minutes. They don’t demand productivity. They don’t carry expectations. They simply exist.

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