How to Be Here: A Guide to Creating a Life Worth Living

When you are bored, restless, longing for something more, unfulfilled, feeling like you've settled, haunted by the sense of being trapped in your own life, these are the deep waters of your soul speaking to you, telling you something is wrong, something is missing, something needs to change.

Find your rituals, develop your routines, create those practices that ground and center you. Stick to them, don't apologize for them, treat them, even the small things, like they're big things.

If you feel stuck in your life, like it’s passing you by, like there’s something way better for you somewhere out there and you’re missing it, try this—try throwing yourself into the small things and repeating to yourself: This is where I start.

Far too often, we don't start because we can't get our minds around the entire thing. We don't take the first step because we can't figure out the seventeenth step. But you don't have to know the seventeenth step. You only have to know the first step. Because the first number is always 1. Start with 1.

It's important to embrace several truths about yourself and those around you, beginning with this one: who you AREN'T isn't interesting.

It's the voices in your head that speak doubt and insecurity and fear and anxiety. Like a tape that's jammed on "repeat," these destructive messages will drain an extraordinary amount of your energies if you aren't clear and focused and grounded.

There is a difference between details and clutter. Clutter is the books on your shelf that you’re never going to read, the stacked-up papers that have been untouched for months, the endless flotsam and jetsam in your car, your closet, your garage, your kitchen, your bedroom, and your office. Clutter is all those clothes that you haven’t worn in years filling all those shelves and drawers. Clutter is all those possessions you’ve got piled in the garage just in case you might need them someday. Even though it’s been seven years since you first made those piles and haven’t looked in them since. Details are those pictures that remind you why you do what you do. Details are those books that are filled with underlining and notes. Or the books that you actually will read. Details are those few items of clothing that you actually do wear. Details are those objects you use regularly that help you do better whatever it is you do. Details are the tools of your craft. Details remind you who you are, where you’ve been, and what your path is.

Decide now that you will not spend your precious energy speculating about someone else's life and how it compares with yours.

When we don't throw ourselves completely into it and we hold back our best efforts because of what happened in the past, we are letting the past decide the future.

How we respond to what happens to us - especially the painful, excruciating things that we never wanted and we have no control over - is a creative act.

If you are working on something, about to deliver it, moments from opening the doors, an hour from everybody arriving, a week from the release date, two minutes from getting the results back, and you have butterflies in your stomach, be grateful. You are in a wonderful place. Nerves are God's gift to you, reminding you that your life is not passing you by. Make friends with the butterflies. Welcome when they come, revel in them, enjoy them, and if they go away, do whatever it takes to put yourself in a position where they return. Better to have a stomach full of butterflies than to feel like your life is passing you by.

Whenever you create anything, you take a risk. And that includes your life. It may work out, it may not. It may be well received, it may not be. . . . It's always a risk to take action. It might not work, it might blow up in your face, you might lose money, you might fail. No one may get it. But that's not the only risk. There's another risk: the risk of not trying it. How is not trying a risk? You risk settling and continuing in the same direction in the same way, wondering about other paths and possibilities, believing that this is as good as it gets while discontent gnaws away at your soul.

There are always two risks: the risk of trying something new, and the risk of not trying. You risk settling and continuing in the same way, wondering about other paths and possibilities, believing that this is as good as it gets while discontent gnaws away at your soul.

No one has ever done this before. No one has ever been you before. This exact interrelated web of people and events and places and memories and desire and love that is your life hasn't ever existed in the history of the Universe. Welcome to a truly unique phenomenon. Welcome to your life. I want you to be here. Welcome to here.

Are you breathing? Are you here? Did you just take a breath? Are you about to take another? Do you have a habit of regularly doing this? Gift. Gift. Gift. Whatever else has happened in your life—failure, pain, heartache, abuse, loss—the first thing that can be said about you is that you have received a gift. Often

What would it look like for you to approach tomorrow with a sense of honor and privilege, believing that you have work to do in the world, that it matters, that it's needed, that you have a path and you're working your craft?

Boredom, cynicism, and despair are spiritual diseases because they disconnect us from the most primal truth about ourselves - that we are here.

You just took a breath. You're about to take another. Inhale, then exhale, then another inhale. In and out. There's a rhythm to your breathing. It's the same with nature.

At any moment in the day, you can only do one thing at a time. And the more intentional you are about knowing what your 1 is, the more present you will be.

Craft is when you meet up with someone else who's serious about her craft and you talk for hours about the subtle nuances and acquired wisdom of the work. Craft is when you realize you're building muscles and habits that are helping you do better whatever it is you do. Craft is when you have a deep respect for the form and shape and content of what you're doing. Craft is when you're humbled because you know that no matter how many years you get to do this, there will always be room to learn and grow.

Be honest about your joy.

Selling your house, giving away possessions, working multiple jobs for a period of time, going back to school and moving in with friends or relatives, sharing a car with your partner and riding your bike more, investing all your savings in a new venture, living on the other side of the world for a year— your friends may not understand, your co-workers may not get it, your extended family may think you’ve lost your mind— that’s okay. Better to receive some odd looks and have a few people roll their eyes than spend your days wondering, What if I did that . . . ? Take that step. Make that leap. Try that new thing. If it helps clarify your ikigai, if it gets you up in the morning, if it’s good for you and the world, do it.

We rob ourselves of immeasurable joy when we compare what we do know about ourselves with what we don’t know about someone else.

Better to have a stomach full of butterflies than to feel like your life is passing you by.

You explore the possibilities because you can't steer a parked car.

When we spent a day being fully present, we quickly discovered how much of the rest of our lives we weren’t fully present.

We want a little risk in our lives because it keeps things interesting. It wakes us up, it gives us a sense that we’re alive and breathing and doing something with our lives.

The truth is, you want risk. Not too much that it overwhelms you, but some. You want some risk in your life. Risk is where the life is.

Whoever you are and whatever work you do, no one has ever lived your life with your particular challenges and possibilities.

Suffering and loss have this extraordinary capacity to alert and awaken us to the gift that life is.