"(...) Imagine you’ve got a hosepipe that’s twisted and you’re trying to water a garden. No water comes out. If you don’t untwist the hosepipe, the garden eventually wilts and dies, right? Now your secrets act like a twist in the hosepipe that allows aliveness to flow through your life. And unless we untwist the hosepipe by exposing ourselves and sharing our secrets, will always live with some form of a garden that’s wilting, some form of numbness.
(...) The dictionary defines aliveness as having life, living, not dead or lifeless. It’s that feeling you get when you go up to somebody you really really really like and you ask them on a first date. (...) we’ve become so good at looking outside of ourselves to get off fix of aliveness, that we’ve forgotten we can self-generate it in any moment."