Senko eats from his bowl, but he would much rather eat from my hand.

I boiled some eggs this morning, cut one of them up, and put it down for him. He had some. He appeared to like it. Then he licked his hand and jumped up to where I was eating my own eggs.

He came alive because, as is always the case, I was eating it. He loves to eat what I eat.

He seems to like the taste more, even though it's the same egg.

He’d decided in his little tabby cat head that the egg in my hand was the better egg, and from then on it WAS.

His experience of that egg changed, while the egg sat there being exactly what it had always been.

The same damn egg.

Weird huh.

We do the same thing though, with far more elaborate thinking behind it and often worse consequences.

One person can sit through a thunderstorm, cowering under the covers, gently sobbing. Another person can be in the same storm, arms outstretched, savouring every falling drop.

Nothing in the facts moves. The layer we put over the facts moves, and we can live in that layer, rather than in the facts.

I spent most of my twenties living a life that looked decent on paper and often felt heavy. I kept trying to fix the facts. I moved countries, changed my work, and changed who I spent my time with. But the heaviness still appeared.

Learning how I related to my own thoughts finally shifted it. (Nothing about my circumstances improved that year. How I related to my thinking did.)

This was when I became more optimistic, more creative and more sociable.

I put the whole method behind this into a guided, written course called Untethered Mind.

Over 200 people have been through it, and you can get the core of it in an afternoon.

Have a look here.

Peace and boiled eggs,

Alex