by Paulo Coelho
Short riffs on work, life, and the patterns that shape both.
It’s Saturday. I’m darting through the shopping centre like it’s a game. Dodging trolleys. Sliding past people. Half-smiling at my own speed.
Then I’m back in the car, watching others rush across crossings with that same fixed stare. Everyone chasing something invisible.
We say we’re short on time, but most of the rush comes from clocks we set ourselves.
Maybe it’s not the world that’s moving too fast. Maybe we’re forgetting to slow down.
I watched the clock hit 1pm and felt that drop in my stomach.
The big task I planned to finish by now is still open.
A project I care about. A deadline I set.
The pressure hit hard.
It’s wild how fast the mind turns a late milestone into a judgement.
Not just "I’m behind."
More like "I’m failing."
That slide into frustration happens before you even notice it.
But a personal deadline isn’t a verdict.
It’s a marker on a path you chose.
You can shift it without breaking anything.
You can slow down without losing the work.
The task is still the task.
The day is still wide open.
You’re not failing. You’re adjusting.
Three rosellas perched beside me today.
Close enough to hear the tiny crack of their seeds.
Leaves drifted down in slow spirals.
Kookaburras called across the river.
Currawongs and magpies answered like they were all in on something.
I always thought I paid attention to nature.
Turns out I was only skimming the surface.
Something in me softened.
The noise in my head backed off.
The world around me stepped forward.
Maybe presence isn’t about trying harder.
Maybe it’s about finally being still enough to notice.
The mower hums. Grass folds.
Each row a quiet act of order.
It isn’t about the lawn. It’s about attention.
Effort you can see. Care you can measure.
Maybe pride lives here.
In the small things we shape.
I was deep in my head on a long drive. Worry looping about the change coming.
Then the road started sending visitors.
A kangaroo. A koala. A baby deer.
Each one a symbol I didn’t recognise until later.
The kangaroo spoke of forward movement and strength.
The koala of calm and connection to nature.
The fawn of new beginnings.
The worry subsided.
My perspective shifted.
The universe nudging me.
I’m on the right road.
Pride can make you stubborn. You keep tinkering, thinking you’ll figure it out.
Hours pass. Nothing moves.
Then you ask someone who’s done it before, and in two sentences they solve it.
It’s not a sign you’re less capable. It’s a shortcut to learn faster.
Expertise exists so we don’t all have to make the same mistakes.
Let people help you grow.
Last night I saw a number plate: 2CE6LL.
I read it as to see all.
Lately I’ve been questioning my purpose. Wondering what I’m meant to do.
But maybe it’s not about doing at all.
Maybe my purpose is to see… completely.
To notice the small patterns, the connected movements, the way everything ripples through everything else.
We’re not separate from the wave. We are the wave, learning to see itself.
The more I pay attention, the more the universe feels less like a puzzle and more like a mirror.
When spiritual awareness is alive in you, life hits softer.
Not because the storms stop.
Because you know you’re part of something bigger.
It’s not about belief or ritual.
It’s the quiet sense of belonging.
When that fades, the world feels cold and sharp.
When it returns, you can face anything.
Every child arrives with a spark of spiritual awareness. One third of it is built in. The rest depends on what the world nurtures.
But we trained it out. We built systems that reward logic and suppress wonder. Classrooms that shape sharp minds but quiet souls.
Now we call the result progress while people grow more anxious, lonely and unsure of themselves.
Maybe the next evolution of education is remembering what we already knew.
Some days, things just fall into place.
The parking spot. The timing. The right words.
It feels like the universe reached out and nudged the pieces into line.
No noise. No drama. Just flow.
But it’s easy to miss when you’re rushing.
The quiet help often goes unnoticed.
You just happened to be paying attention.
