30/250 Illusions of other weeks

and the hassle of being present

This week appeared to be hell-bent on disappearing.

Not in the OMG I HAVE NO TIME LEFT way. But in the it never existed way.

I don’t know about you, but I tend to have an intuitive grasp of time. Since the battery on my watch died, I’ve relied much more on my gut feel about the pace of the day, and have rediscovered my own rhythm - and am able tell you the time to within a few minutes.

Except for this week.

Apparently there is an inexorable magnetism pulling my consciousness into next week. On Wednesday evening I was heard to exclaim, THAT’S BRILLIANT! as I realised that the breakfast I thought was Thursday is actually next week.

The same thing happened today, when I realised that a Saturday brunch isn’t for another week!

Perhaps it’s because the entire nation of Australia has its mind on the 18th of May because of the federal election. Wouldn’t it be something if the intense focus, thinking, writing, reading about that date is causing time to slip for the rest of us?

You know, the kind of thing where it slides out of your grip as soon as you stop paying attention. Days disappearing like slippery ropes, which takes an immense effort to haul back to the right place… only to disappear again when you take your eyes off them.

It’s been a strange week of weird effort, ineffective effort, and some bright, shining moments of stunning, blinding brilliance.

In any case, I’m writing this to you while listening to some frankly amazing music by Canadian genius Devin Townsend - I’ll share it with you; here you go:

… and tempted to fall out of the week already, while wishing my business was already in the state where I was producing my own work and not writing for others.

Ultimately, that’s my goal. It’s a long goal. But if you don’t have a destination in mind, you’ll drive around pointlessly, chewing up petrol, eating shitty food from roadhouses, pissing your money away, only to realise you’re 500 metres from your house.

In PIXIE NEWS this week, the final ever Sunday Letter is going out to subscribers on Sunday.

That was the first publication that Brutal Pixie began producing, and has been consistent, going out almost every Sunday for the past almost-six years. A combination of commentary and fascinating reading, it built a furiously loyal readership.

But it’s time to put her away. And it’s happening because, honestly, I’ve stopped caring what other people do.

The question became: Why do I hate doing this Sunday Letter so much?

The response was: I no longer give a fuck about curating things for other people.

Seriously, if you were actually interested in the nuances of human communication, you’d be Googling stuff anyway. Right? And if you wanted to hear what floats my boat, you’d be - well, on the Next Five Years list. ;)

See what I did there?

For the past two months we’ve had our best consecutive sales months on record. Our business health is the highest it has been for nearly two years. And I have a sign above my computer that says, Shameless: Fearless.

It’s in this spirit that this week I’ve started planning my return to publishing in the music industry, with a game-changing publication. It’s early days, I’m not sharing anything about it in public until I’ve done the modelling, but it is ENORMOUSLY exciting. (And not core business, Leticia; breathe, mate!).

As Brutal Pixie works her way to her sixth birthday, I’ve discovered freedom in some things, even inside a crazy week. Most of that is in stopping caring about what other people do, and in valuing my own perspective and knowledge more than at any other time in my life.

The devil is in the detail.

And possibly in the Pixie’s back-seat, giving directions.

We shall see.