Throughout my many years of living a fast-paced, juggling-balancing life, I discovered that one of the things that brought me a sense of serenity was finding a creative outlet: exploring new places and capturing beautiful moments. I looked forward to finding that sunset, the sunrise, or donkeys rolling in the sand, the sunlight shimmering in a puddle of water, or really anything. I simply found pure joy in capturing all sorts of things. It gave me a chance to stop, pause, and truly appreciate the natural beauty of life—something I often overlooked amid many other distractions.
Interestingly, despite it being my fun go-to activity, photography and adventures suddenly became something beyond a pause. Soon enough, I started earning money from one photo, then another, and another. It wasn’t just a front cover photo anymore; it became a contract, and some money was flowing in. My beautiful, carefree time and hobby turned into something I could monetize—something that needed to be done, another finish line to cross.
The once-fun spontaneity vanished, becoming another measured, fast-paced task to complete: a course to take, a workshop to certify in, a digital course to learn from, a quote to send to a client, a collection to be made. How and when did I cross the line from leisure relaxation to fast pace doing and doing?
How often do we become so focused on doing so much, constantly navigating or just doing and doing, that life becomes an exhausting train ride from one stop to the next? At times, it felt like a race—a relentless pursuit with strenuous hours and days that demanded more than the hours in a day. At what point in our lives do we cross over to the other side of needing the adrenaline rush and why do we choose to make it so?
For me, it certainly has been a choice made over and over again in different stages of my life. My insight here is simple. It is in the face of our choices, every single time. It has been my choice. Simplicity and just being vs the pattern hypnosis adrenaline rush of achievement. Often the rush and grind has been the hypnotic choice I have made over and again.
So, when I start feeling like a juggler on a spinning disk, I remind myself to pause—not a measured pause with deadlines and ‘have-tos,’ but a pause that includes a moment of giggling, delightful joy, to do something spontaneous, and to deeply know that I am perfectly okay right here, right now. There’s no spinning wheel or anything to juggle, control, press, or push against. There is no juggling button or any form of hypnosis—just me, my inhale, my exhale, and a smile.
