STOPTIME: Live in the Moment.

โœจ There Is No Shelf Life for Insight โœจ

โ€ข Lisa Hopkins, Wide Open Stages โ€ข Season 14 โ€ข Episode 9

Let us know what you enjoy about the show!

๐ŸŒฟ A reflection on creative worth, momentum, and sharing what still matters.

Have you ever created something you're proud of, only to let it fade into the background? That moment when you decide your work has passed its primeโ€”even though its value remains unchanged?

Summer mornings by the lake have become my sacred ritual. I wake with the sun, tiptoeing past sleeping pets before donning my protective "moon boots" against the morning dew and perhaps Gary the garden snake. With green tea in hand and books tucked into my basket, I step outside to breathe in gratitude for this beautiful, safe place. These solitary moments connect me with both the natural world and the wisdom of authors whose words accompany me each day.

While reflecting on my dock this morning, I realized it's been exactly one year since I published my book. Though the writing process never felt like workโ€”I sometimes miss itโ€”I've stopped promoting it, telling myself the momentum is gone. But why? Has the value of those words diminished, or am I simply afraid of how they'll be received? When we create art of any kind, we engage in a vulnerable act. Yet keeping our work hidden might actually be selfish. If I worry about what others think of my creation, that's just ego talking. I can't control whether you like my book, but I can offer it wholeheartedly, aligned with my values.

This morning brought clarity: there is no shelf life for insight. Good ideas don't expire. They remain valuable whether discovered today or years from now. I invite you to consider what you've created that deserves to be celebrated and shared again. What wisdom have you kept to yourself that others might benefit from? Join me in honoring our creations without fear of judgment, because authentic expression never goes stale.

If you are enjoying the show please subscribe, share and review! Word of mouth is incredibly impactful and your support is much appreciated!

Support the show

๐ŸŒŸโœจ๐Ÿ“š **Buy 'The Places Where There Are Spaces: Cultivating A Life of Creative Possibilities'** ๐Ÿ“šโœจ๐ŸŒŸ
Dive into a world where spontaneity leads to creativity and discover personal essays that inspire with journal space to reflect. Click the link below to grab your copy today and embark on a journey of self-discovery and unexpected joys! ๐ŸŒˆ๐Ÿ‘‡
๐Ÿ”— Purchase Your Copy Here: https://a.co/d/2UlsmYC

๐ŸŒŸ **Interested in finding out more about working with Lisa Hopkins? Want to share your feedback or be considered as a guest on the show?**
๐Ÿ”— Visit Wide Open Stages https://www.wideopenstages.com

๐Ÿ“ธ **Follow Lisa on Instagram:** @wideopenstages https://www.instagram.com/wideopenstages/

๐Ÿ’– **SUPPORT THE SHOW:** [Buy Me a Coffee] https://www.buymeacoffee.com/STOPTIME

๐ŸŽต **STOPTIME Theme Music by Philip David Stern**
๐Ÿ”— [Listen on Spotify]
https://open.spotify.com/artist/57A87Um5vok0uEtM8vWpKM?si=JOx7r1iVSbqAHezG4PjiPg

Speaker 1:

Hey there, one of my very favorite things to do in the summer is to wake up with the sun. It feels like a lifetime ago now, when I preferred dusk to dawn like the night owl coming to life as the sun started to set. But these days, if I'm lucky, when I arrive downstairs I can manage to tiptoe past my sleeping fur babies without waking them. I quietly close the pocket door behind me and slip on what look like moon boots, perfect for the morning dew. The grass is always wet at this hour and I still have just a little fear that Gary the garter snake might be sunning on the step, and somehow my funny little boots make me feel just a little safer. On the crook of my left arm I sling a basket where I keep my glasses and a couple of books I'm reading, leaving my left hand free to hold my cup of green tea. I grab my baseball cap and sunglasses, open the door and, though I do this almost every summer morning when I step into the garden, it feels like it's the first time I breathe in the gratitude of living in such a beautiful, safe place. It's a sacred, solitary ritual communing with the lake and welcoming the day, and it's here that I draw wisdom not only from the infinite nature that's all around me, but also from the wonderful authors that I read. It's a place of wonder and delight on the outside and in. Learning is such an important part of my practice, and I often highlight passages that stand out or that I'd like to revisit. I even add the initials of clients or of people in my life who I think might really benefit from hearing some of these things.

Speaker 1:

This morning, while sitting on the dock in my usual spot for reflection and gratitude, it occurred to me that it was almost exactly a year ago that I published my own book. I devoted so much time to writing my little book and getting it world ready, but never once did it feel like work. In fact, sometimes I find myself missing the process. It felt good to complete it for sure. Well, at least deem it finished enough to share, because, well, let's face it, in creative endeavors nothing is ever really done, is it Still? When I go to bed at night and see it on my bedside table, I smile inside, not because I did it, but because I can go to sleep knowing that what I produced was an honest reflection of who I am Honest, imperfect and unafraid of open-ended answers.

Speaker 1:

I sipped my green tea and looked at the books in my basket, both of which were well-worn, earmarked, initialed and underscored with yellow highlights. Like most of the books I read, these have been taken on and off the shelf and offered fresh perspectives each and every time I pick them up to reference or read again. I thought about the term shelf life life, which means the length of time for which an item remains usable, fit for consumption or saleable. One year ago, when my book was just released, I felt energized and excited about getting it out into the world, but these days, the only story I'm creating is the one in my head. These days, the only story I'm creating is the one in my head, the one that's telling me the momentum for my book is gone. But when the moment has passed, is it too late to celebrate and elevate? It? Is forward motion always linear, like the books in my basket. The value of my own book has not changed. So why, then, have I stopped promoting the work that I shared into the world one year ago? Do I believe that it's run out of gas because it isn't good enough? Have I moved on because I believe the shine has faded.

Speaker 1:

Hmm, I started to think about all the people who have read my book and shared their responses. I thought even more about all the folks who haven't had the chance to read it because, well, they don't even know it exists. Like my morning ritual, writing a book or creating art of any kind is a sacred, solitary act and it's vulnerable. But unless shared, couldn't that actually be considered selfish? If I'm worrying about what you think about me and my work, well, that's ego, isn't it? Do I want to go to sleep at night knowing that my fear of what others think is preventing me from honoring my value to share, that my fear of what others think is preventing me from honoring my value to share?

Speaker 1:

Am I holding back by not sharing the beautiful words that readers have offered me, words that might invite new readers in? Why do I hesitate to highlight those voices when I so readily share the passages that move me in other books? You know I can't control whether or not you like me or my book or anything that I say or create, but I can draw awareness around what I've done and what I want to share and I can make a wholehearted offering to you that is aligned with my values, an open invitation for you to decide, because I've decided there is no shelf life for insight. I'm Lisa Hopkins. Thanks so much for listening. Stay safe and healthy, everyone, and remember to live in the moment.

People on this episode