I sat outside on my deck last night and did something that was extremely satisfying. I was alone, the moon was on the rise. I will tell you that I felt very good both physically and emotionally, before, during, and after my activity, but I’m not going to tell you what it was I was doing. I could have been smoking pot and listening to the teenagers laughing and flirting at the marina. I could have been eating a bucket of ice cream. I could have been doing nothing more than writing this post, or I could have been doing something far more decadent than indulging in dairy. I want you to imagine what it was I was doing. I suspect that some of your thoughts will truly have to do with figuring out my business, but I also think that your thoughts may be about you, and what you would have been doing, or what you would have wanted to be doing, or what you wanted me to be doing. Create something, imagine—and then really, what I was doing becomes your story, your imagination at work, not mine.


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