On Readiness vs Aliveness
|
When you are able to trust yourself to take risks and move through the unknown in the belief that you will be able to manage whatever challenges arise, then you are able to navigate the space of generative discomfort.
But I don’t think that generative discomfort is the only thing that happens in that overlap between self-trust and risk-taking. I think that Aliveness also happens there.
Think about the times when you have felt most alive. Has there not been an element of both self-trust and risk-taking in those moments? A way in which you gave yourself permission to believe that you could do the kinda scary thing, and then you did it, and it felt so enlivening?
Sometimes we get so caught up in the fear of doing something new, that we forget how alive it can make us feel.
So maybe the question that we ask shouldn’t be: Am I ready?
But rather: Am I ready to feel more alive?
*
When I think about the energy of self-trust and risk-taking coming together, I think about that moment when summer becomes fall. When you go outside, after so many months of feeling warm, and there’s that first little nip in the air. You’re the tiniest bit chilled, but it feels invigorating because it’s new. You’re in that magical space in-between, where one season is falling away and a new season is coming in and it’s so enlivening — to stand on the cusp.
—
What cusp are you standing on?
What wants to emerge?
What feels alive?
Share this newsletter |
LINK ABOUT IT
“Slowing down is about lingering in the places we are not used to. Seeking out new questions. Becoming accountable to more than what rests on the surface. Seeking roots. Slowing down is taking care of ghosts, hugging monsters, sharing silence, embracing the weird.”
—Bayo Akomolafe, A Slower Urgency
“People are hungry for an approach that doesn’t treat our fellow citizens as enemies but rather treats our fellow citizens as neighbors, even if we disagree with them — an approach that’s filled with grace.”
—Sarah McBride, Ezra Klein Show
✨
How can I find love? “You don’t find love. You give it.”
David Hockney, collage, and the return to awkwardness
47 quotes to inspire your creative practice
Rick Rubin’s “The way of code”
Ways to Work with Me:
Book a 1-1 alchemy coaching session
Book a 1-1 radiant energy journey
Take RESET, my self-guided course on heart-centered productivity
Shout-Outs:
The artwork is: Yaroslav Shkriblyek, who is based in Ivano-Frankivsk, Ukraine.
Link ideas from: Shira Erlichman and Sebene Selassie.
Subscribe to this newsletter |
Website: jkg.co
Copyright © 2025 Hurry Slowly LLC, All rights reserved.
Mailing Address:
PO Box 172, Bearsville, NY 12409
Want to change how you receive these emails?
You can update your profile or unsubscribe from this list.
Every few weeks, I share provocative ideas about culture, consciousness, and creativity, alongside beautiful artwork, in my newsletter. I also host the Hurry Slowly podcast, teach online courses, and practice energy work. Learn more at: www.jkg.co
Artwork by Juan Er. Hi Friends- When I think about what connects all of the work I've done over the past 25+ years, the word that comes to mind is context — a continued effort toward sense-making in a world that is becoming evermore fragmented and chaotic. So that's what I wrote about this week, the power of context when it feels like things are falling apart. I hope it offers you some solace — or better yet — a few ideas on how to help yourself (and those around you) feel just a little bit...
Artwork by Seb NIARK1 FERAUT. Hi Friends- I hope you are finding joy where you can this week. I am appreciating the little things: The first blue bird I have seen in my yard in six years; the view of the tall pines from my desk; this mug of hojicha tea, a gift from someone special. I am learning that part of the way that I deal with chaos is to try to come up with new metaphors to understand what I, and we, are experiencing. To use a linguistic frame to make something that feels difficult...
Photograph by David Drbal. Hi Friends- Last week I turned 48. To celebrate, I hosted a potluck and an inordinate amount of my dearest friends showed up to support me, connect with each other, eat beautiful food, and dance. The next day, we woke up, grazed on delicious leftovers, and attended my upstate town’s small but absolutely radiant Pride Parade. The weekend felt like a dense, rich infusion of love and community. Immersed in what was unfolding, I took a break from the news for a few...