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    #146 Shadow Artistry

    Shadow writer – someone who holds a secret desire, maybe even an irresistible urge to write but is afraid of being criticized – so their words never even make it on the page.

    Shadow runner – someone who’d love to run a marathon but doesn’t believe they could train consistently enough to make it happen – so their legs never even take them on a single run.

    Shadow singer – someone who loves singing but believes nobody will like their voice anyway – so their song never even reaches past the shower cabin.

    Shadow entrepreneur – someone who has a big life-changing vision, but keeps it hidden out of fear of being ridiculed, dismissed, or ignored – so their ideas never even make it out of hiding.


    Where are you staying in the shadow of your own self-denial?

    Which daily Tiny Trust Builders could help you to step out of that shadow – and do what you always wanted to do?

    It’s time.

    (If this resonates, you might want to read The Artist’s Way)

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    #352 You’re ready to take the first step

    You don’t have to feel ready to be a successful writer to pick up a pen or open a document and write today.

    In fact, you’ll probably never feel ready to be a successful writer unless you write today.

    This means, strangely enough, that despite how you feel in this very moment, you are entirely ready.

    Ready to take the first step.

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    #32 Before I learned not to listen

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would stand
    seemingly still
    but secretly swaying
    swallowed up by a willow tree
    and its play with the wind

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would hold my head against the rind
    reach
    reconnect with an old friend
    the way it has always felt best
    cheek pressed to chest

    Before I learned not to listen
    a breeze in the leaves
    rustling ruminating
    would sound like raindrops in my ears
    making my eyes answer
    with a torrent of tears

    Before I learned not to listen
    a rolling thunder
    thumping like a beating heart
    would rumble from my cheek to my ear
    replacing my fear
    with a memory I used to held dear
    we were never really apart

    Before I learned not to listen
    before the lust for language
    reduced what I could see
    and sense within
    I would allow the whispers of the wordless world
    speak to me like kin

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would accept
    that once upon a time
    I remembered your name
    and once upon a time we both knew
    we were one and all the same

    Lukas Van Vyve

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