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How can I get to the point where I’m fully accessing myself?

I want to use all of me. I want to soak up everything around me like a sponge and wring it out.

How can I access all of me?

How can I stop playing small?

How can I stop selling myself short?

How can I have my cake and eat it too?

How can I determine what I really want versus what I think I should want?

How can I be happy with what I produce without comparing it to what others produce?

How can I learn to take breaks while never giving up?

How can I, how can I, how can I?

How can I help others while helping myself?

How can I help myself in a way that also helps others?

How can I, how can I, how can I?

I want to access all of me. I want no more limitation. I want to read all the books. I want to write all the books. I want to be where I already am, in my heart.

I want to erase the separation between myself and my dreams and take the quantum leap that begins in my being, knowing, feeling, trusting that I have what it takes, then taking the seed of that courage and growing it into something much mightier.

The roots take hold in the soil of my being, cradling my heart, riveting me in place. My soul looks out from its cage waiting for the moment.

I want to access all of me. I want to jump off the ledge. I’m ready to make my ascent. I’m ready to descend as well, if that’s what it takes. I’m ready to move. I’m ready to morph. I’m ready to feel my depth. All of it. The hot ice of my own conviction, magnified by my love for myself, melts me. Brings me ever closer to access. My evolution, asymptotic.

How much longer can I patrol my own prison cell, key in hand, and pay my own screams no mind?

How much longer can I ignore the bigger mission?

How much longer can I refuse to access or acknowledge myself. How much longer can I play at 40%? How is it possible that I know what 40% feels like, but don’t know what 100% feels like? Percentages are relative. Maybe I’ve only felt 5%.

And wouldn’t that be scary? To know that I’ve felt burnt out, exhausted, hurt, scared, discouraged, tired and tried — but that my gas tank has still been full this whole time?

Where do you go when the only place to go is up, but you’re scared of heights? Do you pretend that you’re happy where you are? Or do you evolve?

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to look down from the summit of my potential.

Is all this for nothing?

Do these words encourage anybody but myself?

Do they even encourage me?

More of my philosophy on business and life can be read on my regularly irregular newsletter.

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