Hey wonderful human,
Have you ever asked the universe for something and you receive it, but not in the way you envisioned it?
I asked for stillness and God answered.
But the package that arrived was covered in dirt, thorns, and sweat.
It didn’t give me the clean, meditative, blissed-out stillness I thought the doctor was ordering.
It actually gave me the real thing.
I’m writing this with love in my heart, a beat down body, unknown of anything beyond these words, and gratitude for the dense green jungle in front of me.
My body is sore, my left hand is aching as a thorn went through it a few hours ago, I’ve been beaten down by the Hawaiian sun, my body aches in parts that I’ve never ached before, and I’m good :)
It’s August 4th, 2025.
I find myself living in the Ohana Guest house of an incredible mentor of mine that I’d never met in person before until I arrived here.
I just had his two little boys come curiously over into my space.
A second later one tried to playfully bite me. The other childishly threatened to throw my shoes into the neighbor’s yard.
They came in like bowling balls. I wasn’t ready.
I tried to think of “What would love do in this moment?”
But my mind was too tired to process any of that.
After the boys felt sufficient in their investigation and showing who’s boss, they left with one of my shoes in the bushes and a few head-scratching insults behind them.
I was in a daze.
I was humbled.
I am continuing to be humbled out here.
My days are simple yet more exhausting than ever.
I wake with the birds as light starts to shine across the island.
I then spend my days split between laptop work in the early hours and then farming under the Hawaiian sun.
Why I choose to work outside at the hottest hours of the day? Not really sure.
When I lace up my shoes and put on my gloves, for the next several hours, I get beat up, dirty, sweaty, and pushed around by the strength of mother nature.
The weeds grow deep in the ground and require my entire might to pull up, I’ve sawed off overgrown palm trees that I dragged down the long hill to the scrap yard, I’ve gotten poked, scratched and cut in all parts of my body.
As I finish my work I gingerly melt into the pool and wash away the day’s work.
I retire back into my little cabana and look in the mirror at a red tomato staring back at me.
I open the fridge and eat some food I prepared the night before, shower off any last jungle remains, lay down on the yoga mat in my room to stretch but end up falling asleep, I wake up to the rustling of leaves and chirping of birds, I then pick up my book and start reading.
The rest of the night I either coach and do what I love which is help others to create lives they love or I take a drive through Maui. I turn on the Wayne Dyer Podcast and listen quietly as he speaks to callers from his once home in Maui. I am calmed by his voice and in no need of any lessons.
I then cook dinner and watch the sun go down.
By 8:30 pm I am fully exhausted.
The first few nights I tried to stay up only to find myself waking up an hour later in the pitch black with my computer and notes all over me.
I no longer fight my 8:30 pm bedtime.
This routine and life is like walking into the Wizard of Oz. I’ve been picked up and dropped off in a land that I don’t recognize, doing things I’ve never done before.
Every day, I have an entirely new blank canvas that I watch get painted throughout the day by the farm work that meets me on the other side.
When I came here I was caught up in a story that goes like this: I feel guidance to do a thing or go somewhere and once I do or go to that place I expect there to be a learning or an event that transforms my life.
For the last few days, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I wanted to experience the moment that would help me realize exactly why I came here.
I wanted to validate the efforts I had taken up to this point. To show it was not all for naught.
Well Ben Brummell, this is the stillness you asked for.
But I’m being challenged to see stillness in a whole new light.
A stillness that isn’t passive meditative bliss.
Rather a stillness that comes from being so physically present, so engaged with the raw reality in front of me — the pulling weeds, getting sunburned, being bodied by two kids — that my constant chattering mind, the one that is always doing inner work and expecting a big event that transforms my life, has simply gotten exhausted and shut up.
The heart of it all is this…
We all ask for things. For abundance, for love, for peace. For stillness.
But are we willing to receive them when they show up in a package we don't recognize?
When abundance looks like exhaustion and stillness feels like being humbled?
That’s the whole thing right there.
With all of my love and a huge bear hug,
Double B