What is it, in your core, that gives you joy?

Because when you find that, it will override pretty much everything else.

It’s early. No one is awake. But me–and Pepper.

Just out of my meditation and want to get it out of my head and onto paper (or the keyboard).

I’m playing (that’s what people refer to as “working”) on my next book: Dare. The current subtitle gives you an idea of where I’m going: Dare to Do (Something) Different: Then Define, Develop, Discuss, and Distribute to Dominate Those Who Didn’t Dare Do.

Because, you know, I’m about to write out part of my meditation which is, one of my most personal experiences.

I dare to share.

NOTE: I also “dare to share” because it helps it sink in, it prolongs and deepens the memory. It was a good one this morning.

What is it, in your core, that gives you joy?

A dear friend of mine is going through a rough patch. He has tinnitus and it’s acting up something wicked.

I don’t know so much about tinnitus other than it’s a ringing in your ears. All I can imagine is after a rock concert or when sometimes you just have a ringing in your ears (that lasts a minute) but it doesn’t go away. And, I assume, it’s louder than what I’ve experienced, which, granted, isn’t much.

In my meditations, I might call/invite some people. Others just show up. I had my friend there and I had a few other people on my mind: my dad and my son.

1. My dad because he needs to write the foreword to my latest book (“Where I (Already) Am“).
2. My son because we made some real progress on his book yesterday (still working on the title, but it has to do with “how to make (and keep) friends when you’re a teenage boy.”

My son really likes this friend and was concerned that he was distraught. My son approached him, sort of scanned him, and said that he needed a good friend and shifted (or transferred or sent … hey, it’s a meditation, not a user’s manual!) some love from his body to that of my friend.

“Here, that will make it better,” my son said (or something like that). I can’t always “hear” exact words, it’s more like subtitles I get to read.

He gave my friend a deep hug.

My dad came up to my friend next and before he did anything, asked, “What is it, in your core, that gives you joy?”

“Find that and it will drown out the lower frequency of the tinnitus.”

That was it.

No big explanation, no fireworks or waving of the arms. No body scans and transference of pixie dust.

Just that.

So that was my morning.

So the question is out there:

What is it, in your core, that gives you joy?