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Writer's pictureGerry Visca

F@$K the HOWS!


"What if it doesn't work out?"

A colleague recently uttered those words to me one frosty December afternoon. That phrase conjured an avalanche of emotions. It sparked a myriad of memories of a life lived by a single driving philosophy:

I Don't Know What the Hell I'm Doing ... but I Know Why!

Being a young father to ending my marriage . . . I never knew what the hell I was doing.

Leaving architecture to become an entrepreneur . . . I never knew what the hell I was doing.


No matter what creation surfaced from my soul: writing books, novels, movie screenplays, hosting retreats in Tuscany or inspiring audiences in Istanbul, Berlin and Madrid . . . I never knew what the hell I was doing . . . but I knew why; to help people listen to the only sound that matters . . . the whisper of their soul.


It's why I exist; to creatively inspire people and their ideas to action . . . to help them look up and notice the miracles that are passing them by - the life they are meant to live.


I'm not a wealthy man but I live a rich life.

I don't have a million followers but I surround myself with a few beautiful souls.

I don't live in a mansion but I found the way to create Heaven on Earth.

If life has taught me anything it's about loving the whole ride . . .

the ebb and flow,

the love and loss,

the wins and losses . . . all of it is a gift I deeply treasure.


I decided long ago what I wanted most.

I got clear on who I desire to be and why I'm here.

I simplified my life and life became simply better.


I no longer live for line 155 on my tax return . . . who gives a rat's ass!

I no longer give my life energy to bankers in Armani suits.

I live a life of independence, personal freedom and creative expression. I write and create soul-stirring books because it's in me to express.


I don't give a shit that 155 publishing agents turned me down . . . again.

I'm still here,

writing,

publishing,

creating,

loving who I am . . . inspiring others with the gifts I've been given.


I'm not here to preach from a mountain top . . . who needs that?

I won't tell you what to do, how to think or where to live. It's your life - the precious gift that you've been given and before you know it, we'll both be fertilizing tulips on the mountain side. I don't know how much time I have left. It's all been a hell of a ride.

I'm in overtime.

I have a few more souls to stir.

I don't know what the hell I'm doing and I never will. Life is a school for the soul and I'm just gett'n started.


I don't know if it will all work out and that's OK, cause I know why and that's always been good enough for me.




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