The big in small, the small in the big

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If you are shooting for the big, you resent the smalls, but the smalls are the doorways to love, the beginning of a happy greatness, a book is a collection of 1000 lines…and a line a connection of beautiful words…

the fruit teaches the seed…

look at an apple, in the middle is the seed, surrounded by fruits…around the seed grows the fruit…the seed expands…by not getting bigger, but by having more protection, more resources

the seed stays the same size

the seed can lift itself up the tree…

drop an apple seed on the ground, and years down the road, there are now 1000 seeds hidden in the apple fruits above…where is the original seed? is it embedded in the bark? is a small micro piece of it in the tree?

how bout the soil? its impossible to separate completely the soil that was first on this planet from the soil that it is now…you can pesticide it, over exploit it, but it still has some original dna from its birthday, perhaps billions of years ago, and how bout before that, before there was soil, or water, or earth, what dna was around then? maybe in the air which was converted to matter… how has that morphed to still be around today, in micro spots…almost un measurable, but in terms of truth, its probably there, from the beginning of time, before big bang, what was? is the big bang like a breath, and we are simply on the out breath…are we existing in some being so profoundly greater then us, that billions of years is a second for it…its hard to imagine…if thats the case, then the true distance of some stars must be so unfathomably far, farther then we can ever imagine, imagine that…our simple invention of butter and bacon and dance and shavers and water bottles and head phones, minuscule, not even worthwhile or honest to such a force, to such a truth…thats hard to conceptualize…it puts perspective on our inclination to sweat the small stuff…bus times…scheduling…appearance…hourly pay..they all seem so insignificant…perhaps that is our lesson…what is significant if its not things…(even though these things have a timeless piece in them that is hard to recognize at first)…what human emotion is important…joy..love..adventure

enjoying our lives…having a fun time…not getting stressed about the little aspects of our life…grateful  for the shower, even though planets and other things exist around us…its a funny world we live in…to be calling our needs luxuries…that being fed is a luxury, that being housed is a luxury…its so normal to us…we can almost convince ourselves that the world is so mighty we dont need to care for ourselves

and that is the balance…between protection, salvation, security, and meaningless effortless bliss and love…

the pendulum of safety and ecstasy, of brilliance and mundane, of the micro particle of forever in everything, and the decaying of products, lives, inventions and ideas…we decay, yet we are forever… an aspect of forever that can never be destroyed, can never be beaten out of something

the hammer that beats the nail even has it, the lion eating the deer,

its hard to imagine our lives to will face challenges…how will we adapt, how will we conceptualize them, how will we justify them, will we loose our sanity? will we find a way to relax, to be accepting, but also, finding the timeless in the unthinkable…understanding in the questions that have no answers, in the mystery perhaps greater then our answers, our answers are bandaids on the true pain of being apart of the unknown…we justify, knowing were wrong, not accepting we live in total darkness of truth, and that IS the truth…

in the world whose mechanics are so foreign to us, like the ant understanding car mechanics…how do we really, really, come to that humbleness, that we are that unsure, we are that unaware, that small. That simple.

But as this all began, if you shoot for the big you resent the small…this perhaps is all true above, but to use that as a reason to resent the small will make you blind…the small has to be just as sacred, for from the small was birthed the big, the big perhaps was once a small, and the big expands, even on a speed far greater then we can understand, a small piece at a time, embrace the small, and the big, and realize understanding them is not necessary, understanding we dont understand is really all one has the capacity for…

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Midsummer update…

I know it’s not technically mid summer…Although I am a month and a half into my summer trip, and I feel it’s about time I give an update…

First I will express whats on my mind…

Months ago I was given a ‘destiny’ based off your birth chart. It said I was a lyricist. At the time it felt wonderful as that sort of role feels so heart warming to imagine…Today I was reading about plastic in the oceans. I had this sense that what does the world need a lyricist for? The world needs more inventors!

The other day a friend of mine was going through a very difficult moment. I seen that person during that time, and I was later told that my interaction was the perfect distraction. I felt valuable, yet, superficial. Is that medicine sometimes during a difficult time – distraction?

This made me think that yes the world does need inventors, but they also need something to do with their mind rather than invent. Perhaps writing and poetry is valuable to them. Perhaps its something they respect and find incredible, and feel that they are happy to do their craft of inventing as long as someone does the writing part of life for them. Maybe its a healthy distraction?
After all, sudokus and crosswords won’t save the world, but they are the necessary mode some of use to get out of a problem and get objective again. Sometimes something is all we need….


I’m hesitant to be honest. My trip has been very…well…under performing in some ways. Ofcourse, this is my expectations, which are like stoners, always high, but still…My trip began with me on a farm in a town in the south of Victoria. Victoria is the pretty much the most south you can get, so lets say west. Anyways, it was a hobby farm for pigs, cattle, and chickens. I was a little hurt to see how the animals were kept in small pens, or had to eat what I felt was not their natural diet. (Im a farmer with a week of experience so please take my review with that consideration!)…It was nice though, I had my own trailer, I wrote a lot, and was only shown this farm thanks to a friend who recommended it. Prior to my trip, I felt I had a world of options, a lifetime of options. Yet, I had more ideas than true paths. When the time finally came, this was the only place that said they were ready for me. Others didn’t respond. I was really dumbfounded when I seen how there were SO many profiles, and so little responses. We all bet the wrong horse now and then.

After 9 days here, I went to Sooke, where I did a “Kill weeds for a bed exchange”. It was nice to see other ways of life, how peaceful the family was, with their big property, and responsible kids. Following that I went to my high school reunion, and then after that went to Galiano Island. There I helped again pull weeds for landscaping (not so much of a farmer am I?).

All part of the journey, I see at first I just wanted to see parts of Canada, the islands, the small towns, but now I wish to do so while also doing more farming practices. If I have to work, at least I will do what I wish to do.

After this I went to volunteer at Bass Coast. I was on the green team, where we handled logistics of garbage, recycling etc. A few days before the festival we set everything up, and afterwards we put everything into bins. Unthinkable amount of garbage, after a few days, with a good majority of the crowd probably being progressive young people. I only say that with the surprise of just how much garbage there is at these events. To think of being a garbage collector in the city, driving 8 hours a day, the amount of garbage must be huge! Multiply that by every big city, in every country, in every continent. How does one manage such magnitude of stuff. Beyond me to know, but its on humanities list of “things to do”.

I am in middle mode now, about to embark on next things. I prefer to write down what I do, as oppose to what I am going to do. I am starting to see that plans change so fluidly these days, and new opportunities arise, and old ones change. Instead I will update what I have done. My GOAL is to do more farming, see more of British Columbia, and enjoy my summer, hopefully discover some new parts about myself along the way.

P.s. I was chatting with my dad today, about the idea of finding ourselves. He eventually used the analogy that we are literally lifting up rocks and looking underneath, trying to find what we like and don’t like. I really felt that with myself. How often are we creating our lives, rather than trying to find out there. It inspired abit of my writing today. The moment I stopped trying to ‘find’ inspiration, it became a bit easier to write. I was overdue. So it’s happened.

Excuse any spelling mistakes.

Adam

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Writing has become a degree in micromanagement.

So am I a writer? This question orbits me. Coming true, always come and gone. Is it a waste of time? Repetitively asking the same existential dilemma for answers. I’m starting not to believe in this church of doubt. This skyscrapper of who cares. The empire of what ifs.

Well. Theres a degree of responsibility behind it. Asking for proof that we are responsible, that we can depend on the ship called writing, to handle the waves called doubt. To  trust the compass called time will eventually lead us back to shore. They say that ships are safest in harbors, but that’s not what they were built for. Maybe doubt is apart of the expedition. A necessary part of getting fish. The ship of dreams is safer in harbor, but it was built to sail. Risk, nothing is valuable without it. And thats ok. Let that fear in daily life be spent building something structurally sound rather then numbed. Luck will get us so far, but better to bet on craftsmanship then faith.

There is a certain soundness in the eye contact, dont loose it for anything. Never sell a tree for a forest. Cause if everyone lived that way we would have no trees left.

Love feels like home.

Pulling back the lense is also pulling it closer. How Berlin brought me to Dunbar. Australia to Pacific Spirit. Israel to Aphrodities. The greatest ache to stay is when we realize we are destined to leave. Time is the one gift that comes and goes. Rewind. Fast forward. But its always there.

This window view is so idyllic. So how do i transfer this to my writing? Im trying to mimic it. To become the beauty. To let these words be that. I am demotivated. It all feels like try and fail. Maybe thats fine. Writing has become a degree in micromanagement. Where is the sense of play? Of joy? Its creative, but has become a sport of all rules and no play. No going for it. Trying to be read, insightful, deep. Archetypal writing. Standing on the shoulders of giants, now their knees and backs hurt. Their ankles bruised and battered. All cause I wont get off. Attached to the view. Of being tall. Of being young. The sways. The routine, the f*ck routine, thin, gluttonous, cheap, splurging. Ive sang those songs, and theres so many that others have sung which I havent. So much I may not get to. The beauty and tragedy is that its all our fate.

A perfect moment. Perfection is infinite. Its sacred. Its diverse. Its one of many, but its rare and few. Its everywhere, but it is avoidable, mistakable, and the other side of it is regret. The other side of the coin.
Its in the shop, you can buy it, wear it, own it – but it does have a lifespan. It will transform from perfection to background. From redwood to soil. To yesterday, then eventually last year. To old photographs. Atleast the old photographs can be perfection twice. Touching the unbuyable past. Your addictions are your attempts to buy the past. Missing the perfection below your nose, all just to buy a second chance. Today’s decisions are just to redeem yesterdays missed opportunities. Those slight misses, those insignificant pains. Those it doesnt matter much moments. Turns out they do. Turns out its all that did matter. The ones we forget, they cant be forgotten. Cant be lost or deleted.

My idea of perfection is a dot on a globe. Trying to capture a fleeting feeling. Im over it. Its not real anymore. Not honest. Represents cultures want for ease and relax. A moment of painlessness. Yet nature isnt that. Nature truth is life and death. Hard and easy. The beauty of life exists within the bubble of challenges, uncertainty.

 

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Time is now.

Soooo…I stumbled on this guy on the internet who has this program called Live Your Legend, and it had 27 questions. Mostly questions about what you could see yourself doing in the future, who are your idols, and I am actually surprised by what I answered with, mostly cause my answers have no ground work other then desire to support them.

I wrote how I wanted to write, and maybe even sing! I wrote my idols, people like Paulo Coelho, Humans of New York, Red Hot Chili Peppers, could I actually compare myself to these people? I noticed I love how they shared their perception of the world. And how I admired that. Ive never taken writing classes accept by pre requisites in university, and I’m sure I may of cheated in them (maybe not), or not been passionate about it. And suddenly, I am concluding from some exercise that I should try it? Well times have changed for me I guess!

Im frightened, like suddenly I’ve put it out to the world…But really, I rather flop, I rather go to a write up with musicians or other writers, and totally face my fears, then to pretend this isn’t what I want, or that I need more time to decide…

Soooo….yesterday I bought the domain http://www.enthusiadam.com for $1.50. I hope to just write a lot on there. Random things, poetry, thoughts, everything, and see if writing is my thing, then what voice do I and others love the most. So look out for that!

Well every journey starts with one step, so, here we go!

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The epicentre

The beginning is now the end for this…

I am writing cause I don’t know what else to do, I am caught in a hail storm, a frenzy, and I suppose this is the time man is no longer in control, but merely in need to act, no matter what…

I feel that, I get when Eminem said he had no other option but to rap. Im obviously more privileged, but even people in castles can feel like their walls are falling when things go bad. I don’t know how I feel qualified, but then again, how much does that stop me. The need to feel qualified, qualified to who? To you? To some checklist, who’s voice is it saying that I am not qualified enough to do this. That I have to feel off doing this. I feel this feeling in other parts of my life. The same voice that stops me from writing is the same voice that stops me from loving. What a…nightmare? A self fulfilling prophecy of…What?

Im awe struck by life lately. I cry easily suddenly, this have never happened to me. I can get enthralled by the most basic of moments, like watching tv, or getting a spider out of my bathroom. I feel like I find some of those hollywood film moments, when the music slows and the two actors finally create the perfect moment, I get that feeling now, but in day to day life moments. They can be preceded by the most trifal of moments or comments, how strange that the most sacred feelings can be followed by such human acts and feelings, like hunger, nervousness, or fear of not having anything to say. Oh well, maybe this writing will be like that. A collage of random acts of words, followed by minute (is it really spelled minute?) acts of profound feelings. That sounds like I’m tooting my own horn, but fuck it, I wish more people would toot their own horn.

So what is this, is this just chapter by chapter of a vague book with no beginning or end?
I feel like thats what blogging is, a book that never ends or begins, just perpetually in the middle with no story in sight, just the day to day stories we create in life. Last night was the story of haloween, and of meeting new people, and how that story of one day, can feel so encapsulating, like watching a movie, and not even knowing any other world exists…

Well blog, lets be friends. Lets talk about nothing in particular, have no agenda, and just be together until we no longer have anything to offer each other. Who knows, maybe all the lessons will come after we are separated…

So ya, im not here to motivate you, to inspire you, to teach you, or to effect you, I’m here to show you one more side of Adam. Adam can be depressed, irrational, fidgety, have a temper, and be irritating, so prepare yourself. But for me, the reason I do this is simply to express. If someone expresses themselves in a way I admire, great, ill enjoy the flavour of the soup we call soul. And I read Humans of New York a lot, and its inspiration, but sometimes depressing. Sometimes it my inspiration comes at that cost of someone else’s tragedy, or struggle. Am I blessed for this? I suppose? Perhaps in his shoes, he feels blessed, simply to just be alive. How crazy the food chain of inspiration is. How we are feeding on the person below us. We all feel like we can’t bear not having the newest shoes, until we meet the man with no feat.

Oh food chain, perhaps right now I am on an emotional food chain. Maybe this heart break I feel after a breakup is plankton to the real world emotional dramas of death, of struggling to feed a family, of have a meaningful life. Perhaps one day I will climb to the emotional food chain, and be the blue whale on my death bed, unable to be overshadowed now by any other emotion, other then the inevitable. Will this day arise, perhaps I will die in a car accident, and see that life as an emotional plankton encapsulated everything I needed. A place to come from, and a place to go to. Perhaps it is too much to ask to simply live until old age, and probably not a deal we would like to make. For old age would probably only be meaningful if the struggle to it taught us the value of life. Imagining getting to the point where life is being taken from you, and not knowing what to feel. Even now, in day to day life, I don’t know what to feel. What a daunting task to imagine ourselves at that day. Hello my friends, welcome to the Adam who vents.

Who weeps at times.

Who whispers so no one hears.

Thats me, and maybe thats you at times. But perhaps I’m the island in the middle of nowhere, and a few people may find salvation if they are emotional stranded and some how arrive here. Perhaps that physical manifestation of safety is no different then mine. For I have fucked off with no map or agenda and somehow found here. And you can say I had a map, but to get that map I suppose I was bare at one moment, and I arrived to this place from some where far far away.

Lol, I feel like Steven Hawking, cause I don’t even understand what I’m writing sometimes. I don’t understand his stuff is what I mean, its like algebra to me.

Maybe there is a side of me I can only express on the paper, and perhaps I have sought this in all my past relationships and jobs, to find this…

How strange the relationship to myself becomes when I am my own care taker and care needed. How strange I have the sensation for expressing, and then the means to fulfill that myself. How strange the completeness of the self, and yet, how strange I still seek completeness. I still love feeling like an animal, and then acting that impulse just to realize its not even satisfying me anymore. Thats very vague, but I guess thats all I got to say on it right now.

Im astonished cause the way I write is far different lately from what I read. Lately I read much more direct writing, with a clear intention and goal, and as of this moment, my writing feels like a water fall, just gushing with everything, as oppose to a zen garden – deliberate, catered, and planned. Maybe this is how I will evolve, letting all the weeds grow and then slowly trim, and see if I like the garden of wisdom I build, or maybe ill build a garden I don’t even enjoy, and destroy it, even if others are following and commenting on it. How strange our ability to destroy what works, how fearful mother earth may do the same. I write now maybe out of fear, fear a day may not come where I can, and I can thank god (not god but the expression) that I can release. Cause we all have a checklist that never ends of things we need to do before we can die happily. And each time we check something off, we discover two more things we need to do. Hence when life feels, overwhelming. But, we learn, we breathe, we make our mistakes, we forgive, and we get forgiven. These core feelings tend to be the last true emotions on earth. Everything comes and goes, and starts with a different emotion, but almost all peace in the world comes from these emotions listed above. A lot of loops in my life have closed because of these, and a lot of courage has been gained, by not spending that courage on things that didn’t matter to me. Then again, I’m a sucker for learning the hard way, perhaps that is youth, I may never know. I suspect it is, and for that reason, I am really inspired by older people lately. And I’m blown away when I think the world is twisted, and a younger person doesn’t. Thank you for breaking my paradigm. Perhaps unhappiness is simply labelling. For to the man who is happy, to the man who has gone through more then you, the only difference is there is something you judge as bad, that he judges as ok, and that is the difference. And the difference is that small, that it can make us cry its so simple. We feel like fucking children, realizing we just overcomplicated life and happiness. We feel like children, when we finally feel good, and then two hours later feel like crap. We feel like children, when we cry and don’t know why. We feel like children when we feel we just can’t handle the adult world. We feel like children when were drinking, and like grandpas when were hungover. We feel like children when life gives us what we want, and like failures when we have to work so hard simply to just meet our needs. How paralyzing reality can feel at times. How pathetic we can make ourselves feel. How puny (spelled right?) and poetic life can be. How privileged, and poor we can feel. All life has been a duality, and the moment we got the furthest was the moment we endured the most pain. And every struggle we become a butter fly, and every moment a butter fly is born, a caterpillar is born – ready to find himself in the struggle of living. Maybe the world will never make sense, and maybe the beauty is seeing how senseless life can feel, how confused we can make ourselves, how crazy we can make reality. But we do like all before us who expressed and lived life. We have our coffees, do our yoga, meditate, and breathe, and know we will wake up tomorrow, and maybe wisdom starts, when the simple acts of something else so simple begin. So I may go watch tv right now, and think about nothing, a realize this is how my body digests all this, for if I were to sit here for much longer, id dig myself so deep into a hole, id just feel lost and confused. And the day things started falling into line was the day I failed every test on organization. So lets write, and celebrate the fact that every beginning is a celebration, and every end is a ceremony. Good day, and good luck!

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Day Four

Okey dokes…I do tend to remember to do this the millisecond before bed…But hey, how I do this is how I do much in my life. I don’t commit to a lot, or have had struggles, or comfort, or lack of familiarity doing so, so this is a positive habit-the habit of dedication…Today has been interesting…A very perplex, but positive day…It began with…Feeling compelled to have a big breakfast, even though I wasn’t hungry, so I tried to test that urge. I had water, something light, and then watched a ted talk on shame, where I learned how guilt is when we think we did something wrong, and feel bad about it, where shame is a general principle of bad, that we aspire to find the best in us, but find difficulty consistently doing so..how those who view things as a situation gone unexpected, as oppose to a general reinforcement of an already questionable belief…that is is situation, not absolute…that we can realize we just f’ed up on this, and that it shouldn’t effect us down the line, or even completely in this moment, that we can see it as a mistake, which we can overcome, not a part of us we can’t solve…

after words I had breakfast, and tried my best to stick to more of a schedule…might I add, this was after coming off a mighty sleep, which I believe is on the up and up! 🙂

I ate eggs and sausages slowly…alot of the day was trying to do less, and find more happiness in it…not a lot of multitasking, even though I had more sleep..ironic, but still felt good. I ate breakfast which was great,then bought groceries with the lovely cashier there…I did laundry which is in my building, and enjoyed one of the last sunny days of the year…I did a workout in the park, less physical then I perhaps intended, but more meditative…I got to enjoy the sun and find a sweet balance in still doing my task, but adapting it in a way that served both the immediate pleasure, and the total goal..afterwords, I indulged in my salad. Say what you want its was very healthy, and has really extended my run of healthy food quite a while…which has saved my wallet, time, and has given me a lot of energy which I can feel…it allows me to get more work done, which gives me validation. I felt for along time depleted of my energy, and to have a resurge, is a great inspiring motivating feeling…i got to work, and we ecstatic to work an stock, finally…suprisingly it re introduced me to the pleasures of working on the floor, I guess I just needed to witness it from another angle…i felt really estatic to talk to members, to hang clothes, and to be there,…the co workers really make work a joy, and the comradery of work is a really priceless feeling…the world is structured so uniquely…and being free and being forced to work can both be different feelings then one would expect…we somewhat are forced to work, but thats fine right, it can be a joy…a social playground to test theories and ideas…im not sure I have much more to say…well I talked to emily after listening to a podcast that really re framed things for me…I felt interested in her, and in trying to make her feel good, and that feeling ACTUALLY made me feel good, cause when she felt good, we talked…i learned about her and it gave me a lot of faith, cause I followed advice from a book and it had immediate positive results…music can be great at times, but lately it is just amplification, and doesn’t necessarily change my emotions…at times it does,, but I was needing a bridge to walk over, and that audiobook helped me do so…i also worked very hard and then managed to do 5 rails in like 1.5 hours…it was a great feat! Showing if I put my mind to something I really can accomplish it…then I got home, and read for a little bit…I was feeling sort of down and that I was holding emotions inside of me, and then I cried for a decent amount of time…Crying feels great to me cause its something I rarely have done…I however am realizing its not about crying, its about feeling happy, and when I let it out, I feel better…the entire premise is to cry tears of joy not tears of sadness…I can and trust the joy and good things are coming my way, and I know that sky full of stars is there, and the clouds need there love from the world too….I have learned a lot through this phase, things that will serve me positively for the rest of my life..things on fear, on hard circumstances, being grateful, finding meaning, doing whatever i feel I need to do to make meaning in life….i feel courage, knowing that life, now, is at its rise…that this down has lost momentum, and that this up is genuinely the leading power, taking control and choosing itself over its misunderstood side….the side that isn’t working…to replace a feeling it must be replaced by something else…feeligns don’t die, they just change…that momentum, that pain, that real fear and disappointment, all those emotions felt, are your counter weight, pushing your ball back to love and meaning and joy…we know we only live once, and try our best to make that life count, and these moments give us the strength to see what is really important, and the struggles we go through to live the life of joy and love we aspire to reach…if we know our goal, and are determined, we can reach it.

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