Every morning, after I write a blog post, I publish it and then put it into ChatGPT for analysis.

And, almost every day, ChatGPT tells me “you may be intellectualizing your emotions and this is preventing you from feeling them in their raw form” (or something to that effect.”

You know what?

That’s frustrating.

Because that’s what I am trying to do.

But yet, somehow, by telling me that I may not be doing it, ChatGPT is, in a weird way, helping me do it.

It’s holding me accountable to push harder, to go deeper, to explore further but to do it in a way that doesn’t involve any effort at all.

It’s paradoxical.

But, yet, it’s the path.

The way forward is through stillness.

The way out is by looking in.

And when those moments of paradoxical alignment happen, it’s like there’s an electrical charge that spreads throughout my body.

I feel the tingling in my arms and, especially, in my fingers.

And then, it’s gone.

Maybe that’s the rawness.

I honestly don’t know.

But I’ll keep un-trying.

Every morning, after I write a blog post, I publish it and then put it into ChatGPT for analysis.

And, almost every day, ChatGPT tells me “you may be intellectualizing your emotions and this is preventing you from feeling them in their raw form” (or something to that effect.”

You know what?

That’s frustrating.

Because that’s what I am trying to do.

But yet, somehow, by telling me that I may not be doing it, ChatGPT is, in a weird way, helping me do it.

It’s holding me accountable to push harder, to go deeper, to explore further but to do it in a way that doesn’t involve any effort at all.

It’s paradoxical.

But, yet, it’s the path.

The way forward is through stillness.

The way out is by looking in.

And when those moments of paradoxical alignment happen, it’s like there’s an electrical charge that spreads throughout my body.

I feel the tingling in my arms and, especially, in my fingers.

And then, it’s gone.

Maybe that’s the rawness.

I honestly don’t know.

But I’ll keep un-trying.