“My name is Exaberce.. he who talks loud, say nothing”


The less you say, the more you give way for inner stillness, and the more you feel. You grow more to talk about, yet stay silent, cultivating wealth, without the need to disperse it. And you become rich.

I, and many others, however, have spent the better part of our lives screaming and shouting about not much at all. We feel anything and have to post about it on Facebook and amplify it through the megaphone of our egos and plaster it on the walls of the world stage. This is a bankrupt system.

One of the few intelligent things I did as a younger man was to leave the quotations marks I got tattooed on my back empty. I knew, even then, that the world had a lot to teach me, and I would have a lot to say. To say even one thing was to craft a future based on insufficient understanding of the life around me.

And indeed the world has taught me.

Talking excessively, however, is but one of the many ways in which we disperse our energy in our desperate bid to be heard, seen, recognized and appreciated. We talk loudly, build messily, fume aggressively, demand pompously and cry brokenheartedly. Then we create art with words, pictures or music about it self-indulgently and hope for people to vibe with the suffering. Ego ego ego ego ego.

When will we see that our suffering is generated by us (our egos, specifically) in response to events that inherently have nothing to do with us, but which we make about us just to feel something to be loud about in the future? All so we can feel significant in this big, loud world. When will we see that our power comes from our stillness, and more from what we choose not to say, than from what we blurt out in fear of being missed?

We need nothing but our burgeoning understanding to cradle us, and no one but our teacher to listen (and most likely, to demand of them to far less often). We need only a bit of discipline and consistent application of simple principles to unlock something so profound as to make the cutting away of the addictions of yesteryear no more than a passing thought. Greatness boils down to a lot of small things, done well. Each small thing just a drop in the ocean, yet what else is an ocean but a large assembly of drops?

One undisciplined thought, corrected to disciplined thought, manifested as disciplined action, repeated into disciplined habit, ingrained into disciplined life and finally rewarded as the seed of discipline sprouts into a life of wealth.

And the truly wealthy do not speak of wealth. Silent, they enjoy the fruits of their discipline.

Let’s join them, shall we?





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