WORK/THOUGHTS

My mind floated,

already fighting tomorrow's battles,

peace came,

when I accepted today.

A quote by the 13th-century poet <n>Rūmī</n>.

"Do you want to brainstorm or for me to just listen?"

On advice to young founders:

"Make something you yourself want. Turn off the filter that it has to be a startup idea initially, or you'll lop off the outliers. When you've thought of something, start building, and get a version 1 in front of your friends as soon as you can.



\- Paul G

<n>Egyptian hieroglyphs</n> translating to 'I make my journey'.

I am not interested in shortcuts
never been &amp; never will



I rather upfront the pain
so I can earn the wisdom

in full price
no discounts



i don’t believe
there’s any other way



don’t show me these fake threads
they never took the exam

they are cheating
with their answers





the lessons are not theirs
they are copying others



-   by blank resident

<n>resurrection</n>, a poem from the book <n>Black Liturgies</n>.

Instead of constantly asking people if they are okay,

create an environment where they thrive.

Warm bowl sits in hand,

liquid meditation fills,

The emptiness remaining

Busy days,

leave room for no thinking,

the inner world awaits,

glistening with answers

To live in the future,

you may never appreciate

the sweetness

of the passing moment

the fruit will rot

The poem <n>Your Task</n>, attributed to <n>Rumi</n>.

Poem <n>Old Souls</n> by <n>Nikita Gill</n>.

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.



It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.



It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon.



I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.



I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.



I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.



It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true.



I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.



If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.



I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.



I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, ‘Yes.’



It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.

I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.



It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.



It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.



I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.