An avid journaler, I get myself new journals every 3-4 months. I have two traditions when I buy my journals: first, I buy them intuitively after sensing them, and once I get them, I reflect on their covers in the first few pages and write about my hopes and intentions for that journaling season. This is a story about my most recent journal, The Hummingbird. I bought it last month, July 2026.

While reflecting on the cover of the journal, something strange happened that awakened a reaction within me that I usually would not get: “What in the bullshit..?”, subliminally telling me that I have identified with a pity party when shown alternatives that are more conducive to my intentions. I wasn’t receptive to solutions; I wanted to feel sorry for myself.

This piece is about that inner critic, and how if we are not aware of it, it can ruin a really good thing. It can ruin really beautiful insights. It can ruin inspiration and action. As you read, you will see how a simple moment of reflection almost became a downward spiral, and I will discuss what it took to get me out of there.

Hummingbirds are extraordinary

I grew up in Curaçao, near the coast of South America, where we have different types of birds—including hummingbirds. I always found their speed fascinating; how they flutter their wings was always something that I admired. In Papiamentu, my native language, we call the hummingbird a blenchi. There is even a children’s song about it, “Blenchi ta Chupa Flor” (hummingbird sucks [on the] flowers). Living now for over a decade in Europe, I don’t see hummingbirds as often anymore. So seeing a painting of one surrounded by flowers as a journal cover grabbed my attention. I’m not sure if that’s what propelled me to buy this new journal, but I’m glad I did. Because as soon as I opened it, I was channeling. But I wasn’t able to reflect on the cover until the second entry, on the 28th of July.

I started to reflect on the cover of the new journal in my second paragraph:

This journal has a hummingbird on its cover. The bird is surrounded by several flowers—showing the abundance from many sources that are available at his disposal. Just looked up more information about hummingbirds; such interesting creatures. A fun, interesting fact is how they can move in any direction they want to—including moving backwards for a second if needed. I also like how they contribute to the pollination process simply by existing and abundantly feeding themselves. They are moreover one of the lightest birds—at least in the Americas. To be light, flexible, abundant, and resourceful like the hummingbird is quite a blessing.

Fifty minutes had passed, and all I had written was two paragraphs (the first one shorter than the one I just shared). So I pushed through at 11:30, and it took me another thirty minutes to write three sentences. By 12:03 I was feeling frustrated with myself. In that frustration, I started writing about allllll the other things that weren’t going as planned or intended. I nagged about my inconsistency following through with my intentions and complained about how I wasn’t challenging myself enough. I got more overwhelmed and wanted to give up on my day. My partner reminded me that I still had an entire day to go and could still get a lot done, should I want to. I wrote that down too.

Here is where things got interesting. And weird. I turned the page and started “streaming” an insight that I, the frustrated one, wasn’t in the headspace to muster:

“To be light, flexible, abundant, and resourceful like the hummingbird…” is not something that you cannot be. Be like a hummingbird.

Back, forth, left, right, up, and down—all the directions are available to me. And a variety of flowers filled with nectar at my disposal to fill me, to feed me. Carrying my own weight is easy—as I don’t take on more on me than what I have to. My presence is a gift. I come bearing gifts to every flower I visit. We exchange the sweets of Life for more of Life—the deal of a lifetime. Never static, I change my mind whenever I taste the need for variety, for fulfillment, for stimulation. I pursue my interests until I have extracted what I need out of them—leaving fulfilled and them filled.

That was so poetic and beautifully aligned with the facts I had read about hummingbirds🥹, but I didn’t wanna hear it:

So this is the part where I can hear, “What in the bullshit..?”

To my surprise, the response I received on my own reaction showed me why that reaction was my first reaction in the first place. I was able to observe that reaction for what it was, and not let it take control by mocking the encouragement I had received. So this came out:

And I get it. I don’t wanna hear it. I’d rather feel sorry for myself. I’d rather give myself enough reasons to quit the day than embodying more of the hummingbird archetype. Dare I even write in the archetypal language of the bird, I’m faced with “Bullshit”—as if we don’t speak the language of nature. As if we can’t find ourselves even in rocks. So yeah, “what in the bullshit..?” is the perfect response for someone who wants to feel sorry for themselves—because how dare he find his mirror in a bird when he’s so much more complicated than that, right?

The “poor me” narrative gives comfort but lacks accountability. It doesn’t encourage taking responsibility for how we experience and create reality—instead, it makes us victims to circumstances and even our own decisions. “Poor me, I didn’t wake up at the time I wanted to wake up and nothing is going according to plan so I’m gonna have a shitty day” is such bullshit. Thát is the bullshit.

This was the moment of lucidity. It demanded brutal honesty about what was happening, and how I was advocating for my limitations. I was defending self-pity. But was it serving me?

Can humans be like hummingbirds?

As ludicrous as “Be like a hummingbird” sounded, it was the most enlightened perspective I was channeling in that moment, bringing me much insight, reminding me that I too can be light in my heart, unburdening myself from that which is weighing me down; I too can embody flexibility, go seemingly backwards, take a left turn, hover in the same space, and move on to the next when I’m ready; I too can be resourceful and come bearing gifts as I show up; I too can exist abundantly, with a diverse range of interests that feed my soul, nourish my mind, challenge my body, and stimulate growth.

You see, the reason “Be like a hummingbird” came to me was because a part of me was able to see myself in this bird. Yet another part of me was too invested in my suffering to pay attention to that piece of insight, that higher consciousness. It felt more invested in the past and all that has been going wrong up to that point than in the Presence it takes to see the opportunity to be like a hummingbird right there and then. Yet the Presence was strong enough to see even that, allow it to be, and keep guiding me to a different place.

By the time I became Lucid, when the mind was quiet enough, and all that was left was this Presence, I reminded myself that indeed, I can fuck up and still turn things around. And just like that, something had shifted in me, and I was able to encourage myself and believe in myself again.

This insight came accompanied by a piece of wisdom I’ll leave you with:

Let’s keep trying. Over and over again. Because if we don’t give things a try, can we really say we tried? I believe that trying on itself is the reward, or at the very least holds many gifts for us.

As I keep growing, I’m realizing that the promise of a destination is an illusion that may or may not become a reality, but the present moment holds all the opportunities.

All we are asked to do is try.

Show up, and keep showing up…

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Let’s go Beyond…

This post is part of a larger story, my own journey. Whenever I write in my journals, I’m having very intimate writing sessions. To honor the intimate, delicate, and personal nature of these entries, I am cautious of how I share them.

If you haven’t already, subscribe to access the complete raw journal entry that inspired this post as it was handwritten and learn more from my most intimate thoughts. As a paid Member, you will get access to:

• Intimate images of the raw complete journal entry—allowing you to witness me sitting with myself, experiencing a challenging moment, finding inspiration, and reflecting on my own behavior as written in my own words;
• An audio file of me reading the journal entry that inspired this post from beginning to end;
• Commentary and reflections on the writing experience as I read, and how I dealt with my inner critic and regulated my emotions;
• Concluding thoughts, going Beyond.

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