🐥The Paradox of Now #39

The Paralysis of Now

Hi people!

Some may think what I am about to do is hypocritical.

That I have gone against many of the things I have spoken about right here. But the truth is, I have said many things in this newsletter, and I am sure some of them have already contradicted each other.

I never claimed to live perfectly by the ideas and reflections I wrote about. I only ever promised to be honest in the moment. And right now, honesty means change.

From today, The Paradox of Now will no longer appear every Friday at 2pm.

I do not yet know if that means bi-weekly, monthly, sporadically, or never again. What I do know is that I will not leave those of you who have been loyal readers in the dark.

Soon, I will move from this platform to Substack, a space where many writers I admire now live and one that feels like a better home for whatever comes next. If you would like to keep reading my work and see how The Paradox of Now evolves, you can follow me here.

But before I move forward, I want to share why I have made this decision.

It has been coming for a while and was made after a long conversation with my parents. So much of what I have written here has been inspired by them. Many of the lessons in these newsletters are theirs, quietly passed down through the way they live.

But now, some things in my life have to give.

This newsletter has given me so much. It has shaped my identity, given me accountability, purpose, and moments of flow that reminded me what it feels like to be fully alive.

Yet right now, this path no longer feels right.

I feel stuck in a state of inertia. My life needs to be simplified and reduced to make room for something new. I need time for serendipity again.

Time for small and spontaneous joys.

Somewhere along the way, I began sacrificing my happiness in the present for a version of happiness in an uncertain future. Delayed gratification only makes sense if you remember to experience gratification at all.

There is a time to build and strive, but there must also be time to sit in the quiet, to enjoy the nothingness, and to simply exist.

I have forgotten how to do that recently.

Letting go of this newsletter is not easy. It has felt like a living thing, something I have nurtured that in turn has nurtured me. But deep thinking has been both a gift and a curse.

At times, writing weekly became an echo chamber I felt pressured to live up to, rather than a playground to create from.

So I am seeking balance.

Life rarely gives it willingly, but it moves in seasons. This is my change of season.

Writing weekly takes time and heart. I have always wanted to create something meaningful for you, but right now I cannot give it the care it deserves. If I cannot give my best, I would rather pause than dilute what this has stood for.

I am standing at a crossroads where I am questioning whether this is the life I want to lead forever.

And the simple answer is no.

I have worked hard this year. Harder than I ever have. But sometimes working hard at everything leaves little room for anything. Some things have to give, and this, for now, is one of them.

Writing The Paradox of Now has been one of the most rewarding things I have ever done. People have written to me in moments of despair, isolation, pain and suffering saying the words on these very pages have helped them in times of need.

Others have cried, laughed, or simply felt a little more understood.

That is more than I ever hoped for.

I am not pretending I have a large audience. This has never been about the many. It has always been for the few who needed to read the right words at the right time. For those who wanted to find the others.

And I think, for the most part, that is exactly what we did.

This project is one of the proudest things I have ever created. When I scroll through old issues of The Paradox of Now, I feel emotional every time.

Writing is where I find flow, and flow, for me, is where life feels most like life.

When I began, I told myself I would commit to a year. That I would show up consistently and see where it led.

It is strange and painful to now stop at #39. Not a clean number. Not even a satisfying round #50.

But maybe that is fitting. Life rarely ends neatly. It drifts, pauses, transforms and maybe that is the real beauty of it.

This feels like the right decision in this moment, even if it is painful.

I have always written with good intentions, with vulnerability, and to remind you that you are not alone in how you feel. To help you, and me, understand the world a little more.

All of it has been to improve our small corners of the world.

There are no perfect words for this kind of ending. But I do not believe it is goodbye. I think it is simply a “see you soon”.

I’m just not sure in what capacity and how this may look.

From me and Haiku, thank you.

Thank you for being patient, loyal, supportive, and open. Thank you for giving this project the chance to exist and to breathe. Thank you for letting it grow into something that became far more than I expected.

The Paradox of Now will always mean the world to me. It may be my proudest failure. A phrase I use with affection, not defeat.

If you would like to see what comes next, please follow me on Substack.

And if this really is the end, let it end with the lessons that have carried us through every issue:

When you are lost, remember that action is the way forward.

Aim so small that you cannot miss.

And above all, keep improving your small corner of the world.

Because one day, all of this will fade. This project. These words. Even us.

And that is the paradox…

To create.

To love.

To let go.

Knowing it was all for nothing and yet it meant everything.

And that’s what makes it worth it.

🐥 Haiku’s Haiku 🐥

Haiku has always been the fan favourite. It has always been about him. About introspection, play, fun and understanding, even when it didn’t feel like it.

Finding the balance between reflection and play is the impossible game we will always keep playing.

A final reminder to choose play and fun whenever you can.

That is what Haiku has always been and you can see he is ‘playing’ with his pet stick insect below.

🌴 Palm Tree Euphoria 🌴

I wasn’t sure whether to end this newsletter with this section. Part of me thought it might distract from the main message.

But then I remembered why The Paradox of Now exists. To share the weird, the wonderful, and the deeply human moments that make life what it is.

I’ve got so many stories that may now never see the light of day, but here’s one final thought experiment for you.

And if you could, could you do the same if they sneezed?

If you’re better at guessing sneezes than laughs, maybe it’s time to admit something uncomfortable.

You might not be as funny as you think and instead they’re just allergic to you.

Have a good hard think about that next time you look in the kitchen mirror.

See you soon Dashing Ducks! 🐥

P.S. if this strange little thought experiment made you smile, forward it to a fellow duckling who could probably recognise your laugh too.

Word of beak is how we help improve our small corner of the world.

The Paradox of Now: Substack