brain pickings

I don’t think I’ve ever looked harder at the world than I have in the last 49 days.

I sat through many hours listening to myself think,
thoughts that never quite became words,
words that died the moment I sat at my keyboard.

I’m grateful these ones survived.

I worried that I was unexceptional so I removed myself before I could be excluded.

I felt empty, the stuffing all plucked out of me.

eventually I got tired of the numbness and self negotiation that I decided I must cast my own shadow, however small;

“you are exactly where you really want to be,” I told myself, or possibly mumbled.

“Soon enough you’ll only be ashes or bones, and a name. Perhaps not even a name. But the name a mere noise or an echo.” Marcus Aurelius

I’ve written 33 pickings in the last 49 days, and I found that this process has changed me in ways I’ve never known possible.

writing now equates in my mind with doing good in the world,
in my world,
a greener, more vibrant world,
a world that has slowed down so much, that the smallest changes are now visible,
a world in which I can connect my mind to yours, through words,
words that last longer than things.
words that last longer than me,
words that I’m yet to have written.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 222 of the year, there are 145 days remaining of 2022.

as time ticks on and I grow more confident in my writing, (albeit manufactured,)
I find myself wanting to share these pickings with the people around me.

“hey look… I wrote this”
“please handle with care” is what I want to say,
“I changed that sentence 9 times, don’t skim over it”

and in that limbo state of waiting for a reaction,
I feel as if everything I had written that far would amount to nothing,
dust so fine that the slightest breeze would blow it away.

how fragile my world has become.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 221 of the year, there are 146 days remaining of 2022.

a lot of work gets done in preparation for a trail race,

aside from the physical training itself, you have to:
analyze the map and memorize it;
do a practice run to get a feel for the terrain;
prep your hydration pack, survival kit, bear whistle… the usual;
figure out accommodation and transportation;
wrap up work, pack, drive to the mountains and be rested for a 6AM start the next day.

now you’re at basecamp…

you’re excited,
you pick up your kit,
you warm up,
you share stories with other runners,
you join the group at the start line,
you wait for the countdown.

3, 2, 1… GO!

you GO!
and you go!
and you go…

and the pace settles,
and the groups break apart,
and… silence.

you’re on your own.

it’s only you and other runner’s silhouettes in the far distance,
each of you filling in the silence with your own random thoughts.

for the ones that haven’t given much thought to the world inside them,
this part’s the hardest.

just you, and the thoughts in your head step after step, minute after minute, hour after hour.

did you train for this?

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 220 of the year, there are 147 days remaining of 2022.

do you know anyone that:
goes to the gym religiously, but takes the car for a 5 minute ride;
counts their nutrients, but overindulges the first chance they get;
practices meditation, but is an angry driver;
attends church every sunday, but loves to gossip;
regularly goes on hikes, but never takes the stairs?

a little too ironic, don’t you think?

this is what happens when toxic productivity meets over compartmentalization.

I have an app on my phone where I check in with my daily(ish) habits:
wake up at 7AM
meditate
read
write
run
stretch…

there’s 15 of them in total, and I do them because they’re an integral part of my identity.

an identity that I’ve built.

(if you’ve read Atomic Habits or Tiny Habits, this won’t be a foreign concept to you.)

I’m a hiker, therefore I hike.
I’m a writer. What do writers do? they write, I write.
I want to live until I’m 89, so I eat healthily (for the most part)

no, I don’t particularly find it easier;
yes, I would also like to chill and take the elevator,
but I’m the kind of person that takes the stairs,
the decision has already been made,
I just have to do it.

yes, it’s a life of few pleasures and we must cling to the ones we have,
but much like identities, pleasures are built,
appetites are cultivated, they’re not all natural.

you can’t do an activity for which you have no identity,
so you must create it.

most days I run because I’m a runner,
other days I run for the simple pleasure of getting to check off a virtual button.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 218 of the year, there are 149 days remaining of 2022.

I’m writing this post 4 days before the race,
sitting in an air conditioned room,
with a belly joyously full of coffee and chocolate.

it’s called carb loading, look it up, it’s what professionals do,
and I am nothing, if not a professional.

by the time you read this, I will have gained 1350m altitude in 10km (give or take a few steps) with 11 more Ks to go.

I will have tripped and fallen a couple of times,
I will have drunk enough water to put down a small fire,
for a moment, I will want to cry, but the moment will pass and there will be no tears,

but most importantly,
I will have starred in awe at the beauty of the mountains, my mountains,
my hiding place, the one spot in the world that is purely my own,
that links me to the rest of nature,

I’m writing this post 4 days before the race knowing that once I cross that finish line, I will not be the same.

I will have the same body, the same mind, the same thoughts, but 5 days from now, I will be different, a little emptier.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 218 of the year, there are 149 days remaining of 2022.

in “How to Win Friends and Influence People” Dale Carnegie said
“All men have fears, but the brave put down their fears and go forward, sometimes to the death, but always to victory.”

bravery means different things for different people at different times,

and while the consequence of failure doesn’t always have to mean impending death,
online embarrassment is often felt with as much intensity,
but, your mileage may vary.

thanks to the internet,
and in the spirit of “I could do that,”
there are millions of cheap seats in the world today,
filled with people that have never tried to do what you do,
but very much feel entitled to judge.

don’t take feedback from people who have not been brave with their lives,
people that hide behind their keyboard and spew negative criticism for clappies on the internet.

dance to the beat of your own drum.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

today is day 217 of the year, there are 150 days remaining of 2022.

I’ve always had an urge to test myself, to take risks, to haunt the edge of possibilities,
particularly when it comes to my body.

my legs still hold the scars I’ve earned as a 6+ year old learning to roller blade, jump spiky fences and hang upside down from trees (I have the cast to prove it)

as time went on, these impulses became more articulate;

I picked up strength training at 16, learned about and implemented paleo and keto around the same time,

as an adult I run and hike in minimalistic footwear (socks, basically)
I try out every sport that crosses my radar, at least once,
forever powered by an urge to just… move.

I don’t know precisely what percentage of nature and nurture is responsible for this side of me, but if I had to guess, I’d say that…

in a whirlwind of pure chance, I was born in an environment that provides such safety that yesterday I went for a run in the 45th hour of a 48 hour fast, just to see if I could.

and I can, barely.

to no longer feel satisfied doing what comes easily to you,
to decide on not eating for two days,
to run out of pleasure and not of necessity,
what a privilege…

the one thought running through my head in tandem with my feet yesterday was “I chose to do this, this is a choice, I want to do this”

I don’t know what I was expecting to learn out of this experience but I had the greatest reminder of all,
gratitude,

after 48 hours, 46 minutes and 41 seconds, I decided to eat, and I could.

I’ll see you tomorrow

today is day 214 of the year, there are 153 days remaining of 2022.