Ironically, even when it seems to put a relationship at risk, I’ve found that setting boundaries generally improves it. Sometimes, the person falls out of my life, but even more surprising is when they come back in, after reflecting on the exchange and stating they’re ready to honor the boundary.

On a related note, I think it’s important to respect myself as much as others. That way, if they need me, I can bring my best, most capable self to the occasion.

After a while, I realized when I allow myself to be empty and still, I don’t stay that way–well-being inevitably follows, and inspiration follows that well-being.

As I began to accept the idea that well-being is my default state, I also began to accept the related premise that this same well-being alchemizes thoughts and emotions into something positive and productive. I like to think of it as a gentler Mr. Wolf from Pulp Fiction–he’s on the motherfucker. I might take some cues here and there, but for the most part, I’ll try and let him run the show.

The true self, I believe, is not a series of narratives that run through my mind, reiterating who I was, who I am, who I’ll be, and/or why any of those narratives aren’t valid or real.

It’s a wordless transcendence that becomes apparent when all the narratives quiet and still.

Perhaps abundance is not defined by resources, but through unrealized possibilities. Maybe there’s always a way to pull a benefit out of unpleasantness, defying odds, expectations, and ironclad beliefs.

I’ve swung from denying negativity, to accepting to it, to allowing it (allowing it, in my opinion, is different from acceptance in that it doesn’t immediately assign it a fixed quality or quantification, which is what usually happens when I accept. Allowance just lets it be, without intellectual categorization).

Allowing it, in my experience, expands my internal space and room to focus. At a certain point I can reframe it as I please–it’s a part of me, but it isn’t all of me. I don’t have to identify with it using my entire being, to the point where it consumes me with stress and pessimism.

As soon as we’re born, we’re pushed and pulled by countless conditions, originating from biology, society, and circumstance. For much of my life, I viewed this in a resentful light, as a series of obligations I never asked for. Then, after I railed against the world for several decades, I began to play with the idea that maybe I HAD asked for this, through some nameless piece of myself that defied quantification. So I began to view my life as an immersive game, one that eventually had to end.

Maybe I asked for this, maybe I didn’t. All I know is it’s way more fun when I frame it as a game, than a bunch of mandatory busy work or duties or obligations, shored up by various forms of negative reinforcement.