I was up at 4.30 this morning and just cracked on doing what I needed to do. Halfway through editing a video, I realised I’d been working on the wrong version — the one I already edited was sitting right there in the same folder. I got pissed off. A lot of time wasted.
I eventually transferred it over, got that done, then picked up another video that felt like it took an eternity. My smoothie-making was interrupted by persistent ants — and it just mirrored something. My own antsy-ness. The subconscious showing up through repetition, through form.
And then the internet got slow, the software glitchy — trying to work through mud. Watching myself on screen while editing, I lost it. Shouting at the computer. Rage.
But behind the rage was grief.
I screamed.
And then I cried.
I just couldn’t stop. The sobs were real, breath moving somatically through me. Something deep in me said, “I can’t do this anymore.” A part of me just didn’t want to be here. Not in this form. Not doing this.
It was raw, honest. The rebel inside me said no. And so I left — Amar was coming to clean, Upul was checking the toilet ants and plugging holes. But I couldn’t stay. I got on the bike and rode to Galle, just to move.
Did some shopping, came back fresher. Got a kind message from an old business partner — I responded with truth. Told her I’m afraid when I speak up that people will leave. That’s the child in me. And I’m done hiding him. She received it well. That was healing.
I pushed to finish the video. Then had a long call with Pen — we spoke of service, truth, who walks it and who pretends. We updated parts of the website together. Blog entries were missing; we sorted that too.
The day was heavy. Emotional. Exhausting.
But full.
If I book the flight to South Africa, I can give myself two months to pour into this. Get the cleanse videos done. Refine the book. Just focus.
But there’s a shadow.
A doubt.
Why me?
I feel like a fraud some days — like today. I lost the plot. I was reactive. I cried.
But maybe that’s exactly why.
I’m not the guru on the mountaintop. I’m not floating through this in peace.
I’m trudging through the mud.
This is the real New Earth.
It’s not clean robes and quotes.
It’s rage and surrender.
It’s the human letting go.
It’s building something sacred while breaking inside.
This isn’t mine. It’s not anyone’s. It’s just the work.
And I’ll keep going until the work is done.
