The Iceberg

(Originally written September 2019)

An iceberg isn’t always as obvious as you would think, despite the litany of Titanic jokes that exist.

(Pardon an unrelated side note: I’m pretty sure I am the only one, but I really hate that goddamn movie. Always have. Not only because of that eardrum exploding Celine Dion song. But that doesn’t help. Okay, I’m done, on to the actual post.)

Chatting up a friend recently and the following well-intended yet stinging comment was made. Okay, it’s not exactly verbatim but you’ll get the idea:

“Rich, you are incredibly talented. You have people lining up all the time that want to help you, you meditate, you leap, you do everything “right”. You have amazing ideas. Yet, nothing ever takes off for you, no matter what you try.”


Shit. Current state of affairs is not exactly ideal. I’m stuck here in MA for the foreseeable future, because I have no other options. But I’m here, grateful for it yet frustrated because I expected current life would be different. Scrambling to patch together enough writing jobs to get back on the road. Right now, that’s not really happening (see first paragraph), so I’m stuck driving again. It has moments where I can connect with people but mostly it’s an energy drain to me. Definitely not feeding the soul very much. But seeing as the soul feeders appear to be running like hell from me, I still have to not die. So…yeah. It’s enough to keep me fed, and the bills paid, but otherwise keep me stuck. That’s about it. Kicking the can down the street.

It’s almost impossible to not think about the bottom line, to not stress and not be fucking miserable right now. I know what I want, I know where I want to be, I fucking deserve it, and yet I’m not allowed to have it.


I’ve been simmering in this soup since I’ve been back. I’ve been doing a LOT of sitting in it. Often at the beach, or in the woods. About 2 hours plus a day. It’s not exactly helping to shut up the “You’re a bum!” crowd. Yeah, I know. It doesn’t matter.


I keep coming back to this point where lack of money derails me. Whether I am working or not. Whether I am paid well or not. No matter what it is that I offer the world, I keep coming back here. Even if I think I have created enough of a buffer to keep me safe, something goes wrong. It’s like I keep creating my own version of the French Maginot Line, only to have the Germans repeatedly going around it (I come from a family of war history buffs, some of it inevitably sinks in).

I came back to my thoughts. Well, if you read the above your response is “No shit, Sherlock!” I know. I’ve been playing in this pee-filled pool for awhile. I kept trying to fight with them, deny them, ignore them, do the fake positive “Everything is Awesome” bullshit. All that shit does is cause anxiety. Resistance causes anxiety.

You ever see people that keep flipping around in their sleep, like they’re constantly fighting invisible ninjas? Yes, of course you have! Well, they likely are fighting with something. I was, almost 24/7. All that happens is frustration, anger, pain, bitterness. Eventually that morphs into exhaustion, apathy, disinterest in life, no energy to even get out of bed and shower or make breakfast. We also know this shit as depression. If all I’m doing is alternating between anxiety and depression, nothing is getting fixed and all that’s possible is maybe survival. Rinse, then repeat cycle.

Okay, maybe it’s better to get to know the beast and learn where it came from. As I meditated, journaled, and all that good jazz, I was able to process that these blocks (that I knew were always there from assorted points of childhood) which I thought were separate little annoying pains in the ass were actually connected in this monstrous iceberg sized beast. Most of it was underwater, subconscious, so I couldn’t possibly see it while I blindly kept swinging at invisible ninjas. Invisible ninjas are all above ground. Or so I hear. So the exercise was futile.

So many flashback moments built up that they compressed, so hard they possibly produced oil. Revisiting the feelings of rejection, inconvenience, and other assorted feels. I had the lesson hardwired so deeply and internally that my stuff was to always be last, unless I was a “selfish asshole, like all other men”. There’s a lot more than that, but I really don’t care to drag this out over seven pages. However, that little synopsis should show how that’s a little bit of a weight to carry.

I’ve just been sitting with the iceberg, just holding sunlight on it. I don’t know what else to do. I’m having varied levels of success with it so far. When I can do this, it feels like the iceberg melts enough that I can see possibilities and be at peace with everything. When I get lost in the shit and the light slides off, I crash into the iceberg pretty hard.

I’m learning once I simply observe the spiraling thoughts, and let them be without any sort of attachment, then the light shines back on them. They do their thing and they don’t attach. They move on. The thoughts are like a bunch of little ants on the ground, running around and doing their thing. Black and red antennae waving. If you just observe and let them just act like ants, there’s no issue. But when you start poking around in the colony then they start climbing up into your socks and shorts and life becomes real miserable real quick. Hell, they STILL creepy crawly after they’re removed! So yeah, don’t poke the ants.


When I can do that, I feel my energy and my sense of wonder come back. I feel a little cocky instead of just wanting to hide. I feel ideas coming through again, and I don’t stress the results as much. I don’t feel as angry. I believe that the stuff will work out as it needs to, that I’ll fall into my purpose and passion again. It’s been happening in spurts.

I was listening to Kyle Cease’s Hay House live in Zuckerland yesterday and I heard him say clearly that (again, not verbatim but you’ll get the idea) the crap is going to keep coming back until peace is found with it being there. AKA if you want to be financially abundant you have to be okay with being flat broke. I’ve heard similar approximately 96,329 times, give or take a couple. Time number 96,330 was the first instance where this shit finally clicked. By “finally clicked”, I of course meant the first time I allowed myself to hear it openly in terms of my own shit.


I’m not fully there, or even halfway there (but certainly living on a prayer), but I’m slowly seeing the iceberg start to melt down to something significantly more manageable. Funny enough, I’m looking at a couple of possibilities for gigs in the coming weeks. I’m beginning to accept what is the present moment. Twenty gigs come at me this week? Awesome! Only crickets and tumbleweeds? I can hack it. I have to remember to release the thoughts at times still, but now I know to and that’s a big thing. It’s a process. This is still a big ol’ iceberg and will take a lot of steady long duration work.

Even content writing or creating visualizations for audios aren’t a long term thing for me, but in the moment that stuff feels light and fun. I’m loving the hell out of repeating other people’s stories back to them, and how they respond to how I do so. It really feels good when people see themselves the way I can see them so easily. I can tell you from experience, it is really damn hard to see yourself as you fully are. That sometimes the warts we think we see in the mirror are actually what people NEED to see. What make someone stick out to a client and say “YES, YOU!!!!”

The best sellers and worldwide speaking tours will come in their own time, when I’m ready. They’re coming though. Even if it looks delusional from here, I still believe. No one else has to, but I do. It’s when I don’t that it’s time to really worry.



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Rich Levesque

Writer. Guide. Mentor. Visionary. Voice. Presence. Geeks out over MCU, Star Wars, baseball, and randomness. Question everything except your worth.