When I was in fourth, or maybe fifth, grade, my parents got an exercise bike. This was around the time I vowed to dedicate my young existence to the pursuit of perfectionism. I figured perfection was the ultimate life hack. I figured if I could make myself perfect,...
When I started my unlikely–somewhat ironic–career as a professional speaker with a speech impediment, one of my primary goals was making millions of dollars, FAST. Looking back on this time, my primary motivation wasn’t joy, but a desire to: PROVE I could...
AS MANY self-help books as I’ve read, as many yoga classes as I’ve taken, as many hours as I’ve meditated, as many inspirational conferences as I’ve been to, as many Imperfect Best talks that I’ve given, I have a vicious secret. I still, routinely, choose to see the...
I bought a meditation cushion called a Zafu years ago. To this day, it’s sitting in the trunk of my car. I’ve tried meditating while sitting on it in the past but found it distractingly uncomfortable. One could argue that breathing through this discomfort is part...
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