When do you call it quits? When do you decide to move on to something new? When do you decide not to do something for the rest of your life - when you stop long enough to question it?
It's no big secret that the talented and successful among us are often the people with persistence. It might be part luck, it might be part looks, but from what I've learned it's always constantly hard work well worth it. The blessing and curse for me has always been the secrets in the cracks. Life is too short to commit to something of a hobby for years, and I often find myself always wandering, searching for something that might not come.
I'm in a transition state again. I admit I like my job. Never thought I'd say that. My schedule has become more relaxed and, at the same time, delivered new responsibilities for mentoring and growing. I can afford rent outside of my parent's house and enough to hit the town for some burgers and fries, or a possible trip to Japan in October. I've decided on a bittersweet hiatus from jiu-jitsu, sacrificing a part of my identity to find some new time, income and exploration.
Writing is next on the chopping block. It took some time to finally piece together my thoughts for this one. It's been almost eighty weeks since I began this adventure and I'm curious enough to question it again. Is it an obligation? Is it worthwhile? Am I phoning it in? Am I nuts?
Grasping for something to write about besides my personal schedule changes, I remembered a text my buddy, Rob, sent me. He said my writing reminded him of Maria Popova' Brain Pickings. We're both fans of collecting idea from books and crafting our own spin on them, and when I went looking through her work, I stumbled on a bit about Henry David Thoreau's journal. Popova said it better than I could she described Thoreau in his journal, admonishing "against the cult of the quote as a vehicle for self-expression, and argues instead for finding one’s own voice".
I think it's a load of shit. Thoreau's brain would have popped if he knew the Internet. The astounding wave of voices we can experience in this world makes collecting our identity that much more powerful and confusing. The challenge has always been to navigate through the woods, machete in hand, carving your own path.
Forgive me, Thoreau - Ram Dass said it best: "Everything in your life is there as a vehicle for your transformation. Use it!"
I realized this is practice. This is me working out my ideas aloud. It is not my best work, and I think that's why when a curveball comes screaming by and I'm awake on a Wednesday afternoon with nothing written yet, I feel like a failure. I'm reminded this is not my job and I've always wanted it to be and it's still not for all the reasons I think I know. The doubts are always there and even more so on a self-imposed deadline.
Architect and visionary Richard Buckminster Fuller said, “I’m not a genius. I’m just a tremendous bundle of experience.” Eighty newsletters is plenty. Now what does the experience tell me? Where does my vehicle want to drive me? What does my voice say?
On to the next one...
Until next time...
I explode into space.