My new book is released tomorrow. I really want you to buy it. (here)
But how do I say that?
Doubts snarl my hands up in a ball and keep from writing you all.
Doing what I committed, getting the pre-sales.

I was supposed to send you something every day for the last month.

Supposed to’s are a silent killer.

Why do I want you to buy it?
Oh, you want theTruth?
It feels good.
To help.

“I am worthy!”

Validation for what? Worthy of what?…
Effort. Focus. Existence. Perseverance. Brilliance?

Moments of pride are quickly remedied by knowing the truth; soon my precious work will be in the bargain bin of every retailer in America for a buck thirty-eight.

I hate my ego. It’s embarrassing. Like a giant pimple on your wedding day. finalcover
My relationship with ego is precarious.
Hate it, honor it.
Direct it, use it.
Dampen it. Support it.
Push it down.
Give it space.

Eventually, I found a middle ground with ego:
Honor and hold accountable.
At the very same time.

In last night’s meditation the chatter starts screaming; Who will find the errors first? What will they think of me? How many will we sell? Did I misspeak so severely I’ve caused harm? I hate every word. I love this, did I write this? It’s beautiful. It’s so ugly. I am so proud. I am horrified. Tell everyone. Don’t tell anyone. Reveal everything. Say nothing. Run. Hide. Stand up. Take your seat. Own it.

1 AM: check pre-sale dashboard.
1:04 AM: check again.
1:09 AM: Refresh.
2 AM: why did you ever do this?

6 AM at the Starbucks:
“He strikes me as a little arrogant.”

“He’s dealing with his shit like everybody else, but then you get past that, and he’s really a good person.”

Stop listening to others talking about you Lewke, ain’t that none of your business.

For a guy who mostly writes not about Jesus, I land on this:
Matthew 5:16 says, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works.

I wish it said all people. My endless judgment, even towards Jesus, reveals itself again.

Onward. Only one more day!