My 4 minute mile.

I feel like I got alot to say right now. I think this story will be a collection of alot of ‘long story shorts’ sort of thing.

Im listening to an audiobook, that I was recommended at a party. In it the author talks about dreams. Its a marketing book, and it talks about how people want to believe. To believe in a better future. It talked about the 4 minute mile. That we all have our 4 minute mile. That things thats impossible, that were trying to prove everyone wrong on. Or we know someone who has done that 4 minute mile, and its proof that our dreams are valid and possible.

Theres a time where I imagine my 4 minute mile as being able to just travel endlessly. To be able to write whatever I want when I am in these places. That my writing truly inspires people, to believe they can do the same. That they can wander the world, see the amazing things it has. I recently looked at a travel writer interview online. I felt like even though it almost sounds like that – I felt like I wanted something different. And knowing clearly what the ‘different’ thing is has made it hard to label what exactly my ‘dream’ is. I want to travel and write but not be a travel writer. Ironic.

I was thinking about alot of peoples dream of traveling. Traveling Europe for example. I took 9 months and did that. I did the South of Spain, Bars in Berlin, Copenhagen bike rides, Netherlands canal walks, Budapest nights, Aushwitz realities, Paris mornings. Did I live that dream? Did I taste that romanticism I once craved? In some ways I did.

Am I that example for someone? Is that story above someones 4 minute mile? Its strange to think. I do recall, I left with that wind in my sales, that story inside. When I left Vancouver and flew to Europe I remember thinking “Wow, so this is what its like to make a dream your number one priority”. There was something so sweet and tender about being able to think that. It was strangely unromantic and depressing at times, and thats the rose and the thorn sort of reality of life, but I did see the rose, I did smell the flowers.

I wonder, I ask. Is that new 4 minute mile of mine really possible? Is it too vague, not helpful enough. To just write and travel. Not write ‘Top 5 of this location’ stories, or ‘Must try of that new place’ blog. I feel like the closer I get to the ‘dream’ feeling, the less helpful I think it is to other people. But maybe that is a dream on its own, to want something with no even exchange of it helping. Maybe living it, experiencing it, is the fullest expression of that gift.

I still reflect, what will it take to be that. Will one day I write something, that will ‘spread’. That my friends who read it will give it to their friends and say ‘I know this guy, you gotta check it out’. Will I make a campaign about getting my friends to each pay 10$, and maybe I can get 1000 people to do it and that will fund the trip and the book/writing that will follow. Can I get all those 1000 people to tell one more person. Do I deserve that? Well, that is the dream. That the people who love me and know me and believe in me find it worthwhile to pay that $10. To say, F*ck ya go travel the world, have your best life, we support you, we want to see you shine. Ya, thats my dream…

And it doesnt seem far fetch. I willingly pay 10-15$ for an author I truly love. Its a sacrifice of love. Im just astounded by their content. I yearn for that. And sure, Im not technically as good or as competent as many other writers, and I dont think that will be my strong point. But I think my clarity of what I do want could be it. And its hard to admit, because well, it can feel so far fetch. So…gluttonous and selfish, to just have shameless wants. But I want this. Thats my 4 minute mile.

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Missed opportunities – Found opportunities.

Reflecting this morning. Im wondering how much my now, my vision of the future, is connected to missed opportunities of the past. I reflect on dreams, ideals I set for myself, projects I wish I went further on and completed. I wonder, if I viewed the past more objectively, if I had no wishes for anything to change or be different, would it impact how I would show up today? Are the things I still am trying to prove to myself? Would I describe who I am the same.

Do we unconsciously try to relive old highs, validate old promises. In some ways the past is a great fuel. It can be very motivating and inspiring. But find that balance. Are parts of our past still less far back then we imagine.  Is some past still living itself out today.

How do these forces show up in our lives? Body pains, unconscious drives, subtle influences. In the Artist Way book, the author described missed creative opportunities as miscarriages. Ideas and hopes that never got to see their full potential, their light of day.

I see this in a few places in my past. For one not finishing university. At the time I left, I didnt have much emotional investment to finishing. I didnt feel much long term thinking or and reflect back now feeling I had little support network, even if I wanted to keep going. I just see how today it would have been nice to have it. However when I really think of the things I missed, its other personal ones.

I remember how much I wanted to do music. I would stay up nightly and write song lyrics. I had recording equipment. I emotionally invested so much hope and time. Its ironic, suddenly I just had an internal shift, and I wasnt inspired to show up anymore. Im not sure how to describe it. I still feel abit of an “I wish” feeling towards it all. I wish I went all the way. I wish I tried to go further and see what would come of it. I wonder if I stayed until it started getting too vulnerable, personal.

There\s a point of creating something and sharing it, and in between those two places I fell off.

It certainly is one area where I do see the missed opportunity feeling. The creative ‘dream’ that was never experienced. Its ironic as even nowadays I go in and out of motivation towards it. I sometimes want the idea of achieving it, expressing it, showing up, but rarely find the work or process as enjoyable as I imagine it to be. I can use that as a backwards rationalization. How can this be the road to my dream, if it feels so…boring sometimes. Uninteresting. I think there is a bit of shame, loss of pride in letting go. Feeling dependent to the dream of yesterday – even when it doesnt light you up anymore.

I get it with travel too. After going to so many places, meeting so many people, I was just so inspired by all the places to see. Places I visited for a few days that I told myself I would love to come back for a few weeks. Home towns of people, villages in Europe, there was just so much inspiration. Yet, it all feels so vague again. Travel feels more like a reward. I yearn to have a relationship to travel where it feels much more sustainable, and long lasting. I find nowadays it feels like work random jobs, save for travel. I can feel that was my pattern and lifestyle for many years. Yet I find myself feeling unstable just doing that lifestyle. I yearn for some mastery within my work, but feel self conscious when I dont know how to create it. Meanwhile, the days are passing by, and those places I dreamed of seeing are slowly becoming less and less realistic.

The bucket list is filling up quicker then its emptying

The dreamer. I can feel that archetype. The one who wants so much, but does not want to work for it. For me I say I do want to work for it, but only when it feels perfect, optimized, the ‘best’ way. Is that a great excuse! Maybe actually doing it imperfectly will be the motivation to change, to refine something, as itll be saving you hours in your week for example. Yet from here, the ‘best’ way just feels so vague, invisible, in existent. I really do interact with that right now. How to truly come to a developed place where Im not perpetually dreaming, rather uniting those desires with reality instead. To find a path, where it feels I can accomplish those dreams in realistic long lasting enjoyable ways. Where I feel I am actually pursuing them, rather then parked in those idealism or nothing moving forward sort of approach. Travel for years or never at all sort of predicament. I see we dream in absolutes. This is all I want. This is who I am. I am this. To have more stability, and flexibility in that would feel nice. A dream can feel like its all I want, without addressing what I need.

This topic can go on forever. It expands to so many different key parts of life. But I will end it here, to feel accomplished that I finished a post 🙂

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Lesson learned from trying to give blood.

Im reading my old journals, purging them. The page im on now is recent, maybe 4 months ago, when I tried to donate blood.

I remember I felt so proud of the fact. I hadnt slept too well that night before so I was alittle light headed. I remember the woman working there saying “If your feeling faint promise you will tell us right?”

I responded yes. The lesson I learned is how fully transparent am I? Would I have also said “Im feeling really inspired, and may push myself alittle bit past that point just to see if I can do it”. Would she want to hear that?

I did feel abit faint (low iron), so we had to end the blood donating, but it did really teach me a lesson. If I was feeling faint, will I really say it? It feels so obvious to say yes, but in the moment I felt a sense of invincibility, capacity to overcome obstacles. And perhaps just pride.

If things arnt going as planned, do we admit it. Do we sell that part of reality and the truth? Dunno, but it made me realize the forces within that may hold me back from admitting defeat, over estimating myself, or being wrong. How natural it is to cover those up. Good lesson to have.

It was probably amplified that this was during covid and I wanted to feel like a contributing good person. Forces that be ~

 

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Reverence [Poetry]

You made the light bulb

engine

wheel

Saturn

Jupiter

sun

ant

grass

sand

you

me

7 billion of us

every neuron of chicken

every thought that ever was

every desire and love

heartbreak and death

youve been there

youve been there when dinosaurs were

when earth was just a baby

and generations of planets before

who made you?

whats your solar system

My little creativity, you keep in the same folder as all the greats, dinosaurs, miracles, anything ive ever wanted.

 

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Paris [Poetry] [Time in Europe]

Trains, morbid

Cement is gorgeous

Cafes, packed

with stomach cramps

Rubbing nose

people see so much but no one notices

catacombs

beer afterwords, and just let it go

even the s*x

is back and forth

Eiffel and a Canon

Leather coat

museum route, walk it out

hand in hand

gave each other a hand

make my point

breaking point

What a thrill

So good on paper

Poetry and life

Market with the artist

and history on the street

so many dreams

what to be like

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The seed grows roots before it grows fruits [Poetry] [Jericho Beach Summer 2020]

 

Full gusts of wind

Moon, full at noon

Scavengers, thrill seekers

Goliath in the distance

Dogs

so many peoples best friend

Seagulls soar

Trees surround

And the sand far and wide

Today, this is my Camino

All of ours.

Mountain churches

Parks for villages

Under rated stones

Like shrubs

Attract beauty

the blue sky

blotched clouds

The mild sun

Behind me the city, cars, civilization.

Infront the birds gawk

 

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Is the grass greener?

I had a chat with a friend today about this. Feels like the question of our times. Why are other people, places, cities, etc. always so dang good at watering their grass? What water do they use, how do they get so much sunlight…

We talked about is it all an illusion, is that idea supposed to teach us, remind us, warn us, that the grass we are currently on is actually the green grass, we just arnt watering it enough?

I wonder. I was thinking…Lets say someone says this about their job, oh its better out there. And they quit that day, and the next day find a better job, was it all green grass thinking? No, that was a legitimate right move.

Now. If I do this whole green grass gambit all over again, but change, and its a huge failure, a forseeable one. And I change after that to new green grass, and its a failure too. Well, probably worth an argument that its not out there.

Or if your unwilling to change, but decide to torture yourself with these green grass thoughts, then yes, dont bother. If thats your move, then your grass if fine. The grass is only green elsewhere when you are fully committed, strategic, and ready to go. Until then, your grass if fine.

Its a reminder. Green grass does exist. But if your not going to chase it and instead complain, or if you impulsively act without thinking, then no. Dont go for green grass. Your grass if fine. Water it.

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Accountability vs Anonymity

This concept came up today in something i was reading. That we have far too much anonymity in our culture and thus too little accountability. Interesting concept. We all crave freedom, its our modern-day day religion. But is freedom code for anonymity. To be able to do what we want without consequence. Do we all want to be a king or a god, above the law? Are we subconsciously saying that?

 

Do you believe freedom is routine?

That discipline is liberation?

 

Are these contradictions on the surface? How can commitment be freedom. How can predictability be creative.

 

Yet times in my life these routine structures have felt so satisfying.

 

I remember after traveling i condemned routine. Called it limited. Safe. Joyless. Exercise too, was something i avoided heavily. Yet these days those structures i once resented give me huge empowerment, efficiency, and i feel optimized. Excitement. Its highly ironic the intensity i have changed in that sense. Really profound.

Anywho. How can we be more accountable. Our hardest moments can be when we are most alone, pulled out of an accountable environment. Its true that you can be accountable to yourself but what about your blind spots? How can you see what you dont even know is happening?

 

Accountability requires community, it thrives on it. Anonymity thrives on isolation. Accountability requires action.  Follow through. Dependability.

Does anonymity?

Food for thought.

 

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