It isn’t laziness, it’s how you’re seeing it Ever notice how you can finish a whole series in a weekend… but the business you said you’d start is still in your notes The YouTube channel is still a banner and a username The offer is still a Google Doc with three headings and a vibe It is not that we can’t finish. We finish all the time. We finish what we don’t turn into a thing. A film is a stream while you are in it. A meal is an unfolding. Even great gym sessions or deep conversations… they carry themselves because you are not standing outside judging them as trophies. But the second the mind labels a big project as a thing to finish… it gets heavy. Now there is a you over here and a thing over there. A gap to cross. A standard to meet. An image to protect. A future to fear. That gap is friction. Friction breeds delay. Delay breeds stories. Stories breed more delay. What's crazy is… it isn’t that the project that is hard, it is that the identity tied to it is hard. The business is no longer a series of human moves, it is proof that you are worthy. The channel is not just a posting habit, it is a judgment on whether people rate you. The offer is not a page, it is your self esteem in font size 16. So we orbit it like a sponge to water Because if it never ships, never leaves the dock, it can never be judged. This is where presence cuts through, not as a technique, but as a different way of seeing. Presence removes the thingness. When we rest as what we are, the project stops being an object we push, and becomes a scene we enter. There is no performer to protect, so the stakes drop. No imaginary audience to impress, so attention returns. No gap to cross, so the next obvious move is… obvious. Make the banner. Record the messy first video. Publish the page that is 70 percent baked. Email the first ten people. Not heroic. Not sexy. Just the momentum that shows up when no one is negotiating with the moment. Everything we want to finish is also us.

You were programmed to forget who you are. Not by some conspiracy or evil agenda. But by design. By the very nature of this human experience. Think about it like this: Imagine you're an actor who needs to play a character so convincingly that even you believe it's real. The only way to do that is to temporarily forget you're acting. To forget you're infinite consciousness and fully believe you're this limited human with problems, fears, and desires. This is what happened when you came into this world. You forgot you were the divine consciousness itself. You forgot you were the creative power of the universe. You forgot you were already everything you think you're seeking. And you started believing you were just this small, separate person who needs to work hard, struggle, and earn your way to happiness. But here's the thing: The forgetting was necessary. Because how else could infinite consciousness experience limitation? How else could the eternal experience time? How else could the perfect experience growth and transformation? You had to forget in order to have the full human experience. But now, something inside you is stirring. That feeling that something's missing. That sense that there's more to life than this. That knowing that you're capable of so much more. That's not dissatisfaction. That's remembering. Your true nature is calling you home. The scriptures say it clearly: "The kingdom of heaven is within you." Not symbolically. Literally. You don't need a connection with God because you ARE God experiencing life through human form. You don't need to find your purpose because you ARE the purpose - consciousness exploring itself. You don't need to become enlightened because enlightenment is what you are when you stop pretending to be limited.

You will hurt people no matter who you are. I used to think if I was just kind enough, spiritual enough, conscious enough, I could avoid hurting anyone. If I chose my words carefully. If I was always understanding. If I never said no to anyone. If I kept my opinions to myself. But here's what I discovered: Our existence alone will trigger someone. Our success will make someone feel inadequate. Our happiness will remind someone of their sadness. Our confidence will make someone feel insecure. Our authenticity will make someone feel fake. Even our kindness will be seen as weakness by some. Even our love will be rejected by others. Even our help will be resented by people who aren't ready for it. This isn't because we're bad people. It's because everyone is walking around with their own wounds, their own stories, their own unhealed parts. And sometimes, just by being ourselves, we accidentally poke those wounds. I remember when I first started talking about nonduality and presence. Some people loved it. Others thought I was being pretentious. Some said I was helping them. Others said I was confusing them. Same message. Same intention. Completely different reactions. Because it was never really about me. It was about what my words triggered in them. And here's the thing - I could have watered down my message to avoid triggering anyone. I could have stayed quiet. I could have played it safe. I could have tried to please everyone. But then I wouldn't have been able to help the people who were ready to hear what I had to share. We think hurting people is always bad. But sometimes, the truth hurts. Sometimes, growth hurts. Sometimes, awakening hurts. The alternative is staying comfortable in illusion. So we have a choice. We can try to avoid hurting anyone and end up helping no one. Or we can accept that our truth will trigger some people and trust that it will also liberate others. But here's where presence changes everything. When we operate from presence, we're not trying to be authentic.