Tag Archives: Carl Ocab

Hoarding Emails (and Letting Go)

Simplify

I was getting tired of seeing 5,600+ unread mail in my mailbox.  What’s funny is I am also being bombarded with emails that say I should simplify my life.

So I did.

But it is harder than I thought.

As of press time, I still have 3,089 unread emails.  And it is growing by 50 a day.

I am confounded as to why my unread emails became that much.  I am usually overly zealous at reading what’s up in my world and everyone else’s.  Looking at my 2008 emails (Gmail has allowed me to keep them), I saw that I had read each and every one.  I do not know what happened between then and now.

Maybe it’s just that I am a sucker for enlisting for products and services.  In early 2009, I was so big on personal finance and internet marketing that I had signed up for those websites and people my mentors recommended – Schefren, Daily Wealth, Daily Crux, Morningstar, Napoleon Hill, Bob Proctor, League of Extraordinary Minds, Carl Ocab and many more other websites.  I seriously think this is the time when my emails ballooned to unimaginable and my life went from simple to crazy-exciting.

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On Showing Up and Not Letting Life Pass You By

Under the Gaze of the Burning Sun

Under the Gaze of the Burning Sun

I did not want to go to the gym today, or to the seminar, or market a product, or visit someone in that faraway place.  I just did not want to.  It seemed to be much too much.

There was light rain.  My bed had spanking new, clean, crisp white sheets.   I was in the middle, curled up, roused by the idea of just staying there, and not moving.  In my mind, it had the makings of a perfect day.

It was a Monday.

A doubt clouded my brow, I know that lethargy will come, and that if I do not get off that bed, I would miss seeing the day reflected in the eyes of the people who I would meet, new friends and old friends, miss what they have to say, miss what I would have learned from what they had to say, miss an idea or doing a good deed, putting in an investment, a day laid in waste when I could have flexed that muscle and got a few calories off, miss writing about what I have learned and expanding a thought that would form words that would form ideas that would form a story that I could live in – again – for a moment.

I rouse myself, get out of bed and go out.  Out. The idea of missing life terrifies me.

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