Green light says Go ( challenge)

The BIG push means being able to develop and sustain momentum toward your goal; it is the process of actively replacing excuses with winning habits, the ultimate excuses blockers. Moreover, it is being willing to go to the wall for what you want or believe in, to push beyond your previous mental and physical limits, no matter what it takes.” – Lorii Myers

There are people who do this in daily life. Redefine their selves, challenge their boundaries and conquer their fears. It is not an illusion. They are masters at taking on a habbit . Breaking down a bad one and building so much momentum, it takes them to a higher place. I have not reached there yet. I’m a writer with a belly I have to loose and a flood of manuscript, but yet I keep going. Why? Because theres things that I have finished, there’s goals that I have to illuminate, and testify too . Claim this week as your becoming. If you have a mental negative habbit, if your mind is consumed with doubt. Testify , even if it’s just for a moment. Write a list of all the positive things you have accomplished and stick it on the fridge, your shopping list. This will be your affirmation, to counter any argument. The mind is like a courtroom, spirit is the defender, when your mind puts you on trial, claim your own space,speak it out loudly into the universe. This is where I stand, here is what I’ve done. List your habbits,good ones. And write another list, get a journal and be ready to break down your bad ones, you will slip up, lots of times. Set a reminder on your phone. And enjoy the process, so it engages all of you. Reward yourself at the end of every two weeks,month or so,for a job well done. Maybe it’s the completion of a chapter, a blog post, or even a newsletter, but when the light is on green, you must go.

The narrative for freedom

There is a word missing in all this chaos, I have seen it, fire in the flames,stench of alcohol on its breath,it’s courage in ruins. Once it had wings,before it could fly and yet this broken winged bird,sits on the edge of the world,watching from its window sill. Poor little bird, trapped in its tower, cometh the man, cometh the hour, who will rescue you now. Yet there is a word that danced on the tongue, when time was so fleeting, when right knew no wrong, there was a word, as I glance upon my jailer, the diary of my question mark self. How do we find our freedom from here, seek the abundance in all the despair, tie up the laces, and pick up the run , gather the thread so the cobweb is spun, how do we find our freedom from here, caught in a narrative,of someone else’s,pain and despair.

The courage to be consistent

Discipline is a sturdy word. Yet i would say, go for practice, go for consistency, take a chunk out of the big dream and break it down. Shrink it in your minds eye until its nothing but a nugget. Dreams can be scary things, at times foreboding. There’s a change of habit involved, that word we detest so much sacrifice, and sometimes we even loose people. Yet what if in the long run, you gain so much more? What if that belief you had, is not just talk anymore, you can look at your reflection in the mirror with pride and say you know what if I was picking a team, id pick me. Id pick me as first draft, striker, ace, wild card, id trust me, id invest in me, my words actually mean something.

Someone once called me a hypocrite. Life makes hypocrites of us all, you find yourself contradicting decisions you make, second guessing yourselves, challenging a mind that was once glue. Yet all of a sudden each thought is banana skin, you slip in and out of it. Let me let you in on a secret, such is life. It is the evolution of the self. With every big dream we take on, we shed a little bit of our old skin, we become fragmented leaving pieces of ourselves in translation. Love yourself, don’t loose yourself in the war to be successful. My friend it is a war. You will combat with those who are familiar with the you that is part of their safe zone, you will be resented at times for stepping apart from the crowd, yet to move with distinction, you must step outside of the prison of a small mind. You must learn to forgive yourself, some of the errors you will make in the area of consistency, and you must accept that who you become tomorrow is a product of what you did today. Time is the most expensive thing to waste. It is non negotiable, and cannot be bartered.

A motive for motivation

 I didn’t see the devil coming until he shook my hand. I was thick in my own fears, nestled in quick sand, too terrified to live. I was a fragmented self, and my vision was skewed. It is easy to be lost in the confusion of pain, trapping yourself in your minds confusion.

Yet you must arise from this slumber and awaken yourself to a life that wants to claim you. Otherwise you will not spot the Jekyl that comes at you, dressed in disguise. A wolf covered in wool, smiling with a narrative of lies, convincing you that you are loosing a fight, when you haven’t even stepped into the ring. You must trick the mind and shame the devil, with truth, action, courage, and self belief. Some people grimace through pain so much, they convince the world they are smiling. You must mentally go to war, with any Jekyl that tries to steal your strength, your motivation, your self belief. Do not embrace toxicity with a smile, create a hub of warmth for your mind, learning is the bridge to many things, faith helps give access, it is not your lot to simply give up.

Your Millionaire mindset

From talks about property, digital marketing, investments, there are countless ways and opportunities to build capital and acquire your first million. What you need though are to cultivate the mindset and the habits of becoming a millionaire. To think with a mind that will spot opportunities and create access. It is important to have a wealth mindset. Read more books about capital and finance, about creative ways to access more capital, and how to manage the income you have coming in. Funnily enough some people make a fortune in income but due to bad money management, their finances simply decrease and no surplus value is added. Watch videos, listen to podcasts and engage with people who know about finance, read blogs, and if you need advice…ask. Just know that this journey will be riddled with challenges.

Diversions in a dream

The truth about any dream is that you will have to face challenges. Face fears, and other peoples razor sharp tongue. It is a step at a time, a goal at a time. You can’t eat the sandwich without taking a bite at a time, you must not overwhelm yourself, you are transporting your dream from another reality. From the subconscious mind you are trying to make it real, shaping it, carving it, these things take work and take time.

Impossible is nothing

Impossible is the biggest lie under the sun. From the cars, the homes, the architecture, the workplace, and even the lifestyle. Once upon man would merely hunt for food after stepping beyond the sanctuary of his cave, now there is a structure to our days. Now there is capital, transactions, bankers, the digital world, and a constantly shifting and evolving society. No two seconds are the same. We barely ponder this as we disappear into routine after routine, for some schedules that define the future that we will have.

What is my statement here? That there will be a time where the things you want to accomplish appear so formidable, they appear to be opposing structures in your mind, you must take heart. Rome was not built in a day. Every journey begins with a nervous step. For the swimmer who basks languidly in a pool of blue, once upon they would paddle flapping their arms with both agitation and fear scared of drowning. There will be risks with every journey, whispers so loud they could make the world deaf, yet you must remember why you started. Who you are, and why you will finish. List your reasons for accomplishing your goals, visualise what it will feel like when you accomplish your goal, and invest your time in putting the work in.

Once Upon:Short story excerpt by Otatade Okojie

It was an ancient thought which arose him from a dusky sleep, the fear of living a life less satisfied, unfulfilled, dreamer with itching Bones. As Alex Rossi glared at the blue scape of Ocean his eyes dotting the fish which jumped out like ballerina’s a thought crossed his mind. Once upon a time, he had been a beast of a man, a flyer who made life itself afraid. He had been a champion of a man who set sturdy goals leaving not even the spine of them to Marvel at, yet the loss of his dearest had deconstructed it all. What makes up the foundations of a fortress of a man, this lion, this Kingsman, when his heart is in the other realm. It was that doctor and her lazy tone, the one with the Midnight hair, and the chestnut brown eyes framed by astute bookish glasses. “Suicide,” she had said, the word he wished was smoke in the air. There were days where the ache of longing made him glare at the cocktail of medicines on his desk, when he’d lay in bed for hours wishing he was curled up to her long aristocratic frame. Wishing he could watch her move like a shadow cat across the room once again, her thick Afro hair, her dimpled brown eyes, and the calm of her smile. When had she stopped smiling, when had he stopped listening, and how did she keep that secret for so long? He would take care of it, he would take care of all Sylvia’s messes, he shook himself out of the stupor, he would be great in memory of her and turn her foundation into something spectacular. The guilt had eaten him for years, of his affairs, her affairs, the projects they should have been fixing but when two broken glass people come together it can be a puzzle with missing pieces. Alex pulled the hood over his head from the white sweatshirt. Opened his yellow flask and just as he reached to take a sip of the iced tea he’d packed, he felt it then. The frame of a gun, pressing against the back of his head, and a silky voice transport him back to another reality. “Hello Alex,” she spoke , her Russian accent polished, the quiver in her voice barely audible,”Remember me?”

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Lovers lane ( short story excerpt)

We die day by day, selves slewn, no detective. I have been slaughtered by
Love ridiculed by its side effect, it is a poisonous lover and yet I remain enchanted. Enthralled. Who could love this, I used to say, this flawed, distorted self, who would claim this as their belonging, be on an Island with this self. I say, it is a dangerous thing to love, to need, to awaken something like fire deep in the recesses of your mind. To be swallowed whole by it, drowning in the saliva of its words, yet thirsty still. There are people out there, mother warns in love with being in love. People out there who are tempest, and literature, who are fragmented now because they realised something was missing. They were missing a love. How do I love thee, let me count the ways, damaged through history, for the rest of our days, I find myself lonesome, and longing without you, I find myself turning many shades of blue. It was a poem I rehearsed in drama class, one that Eleanore Toms wrote in Lit. I think to myself, how scary it is to love like this. My prescription? Avoid the lovers lane

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