The full collection of explorations.
My dog plays with her toys until she gets bored.
And then she could care less about them.
It’s only when I take one of them away that she suddenly cares again.
And cares a whole lot.
We are so much the same.
We don’t really care about what we have until it’s gone.
If only we could enjoy what we have like it was already taken, maybe we wouldn’t have to get things taken before we could truly enjoy.
I had the privilege of being interviewed by Arthur Dias on his YouTube Show: From The King’s Pen.
In it, Arthur navigates the conversation around my journey as a martial artist and how I went from apprentice to master, takes a closer look at how I dealt with challenges and built discipline along the way, and how my battles with impostor syndrome shaped me into who I am.
It’s a 55 minute conversation and you can listen on YouTube or by playing below. Enjoy!
We were born needing care and we'll die needing care. But, let's not forget that what happens in between shouldn't be no care. For not needing care doesn't mean care is not needed. When more people who care show up living feels infinitely less unfair.
Starting a stopped body is hard.
Keeping a body in motion is easier.
Even if that motion is heading in the wrong direction.
Redirecting is easier than starting.
Which is why you should start even without knowing which direction is the perfect direction to head. You can always turn the steering wheel as you go. It’s really no big deal.
Just do what’s hard, start your damn engine, and get going already.
When you stop the intake of information you give your mind the space it needs to process the information it has already taken in.
Never stopping the influx of information is like continuing to open new tabs on new tabs on new tabs in your browser.
Soon, the clutter overwhelms the machine and everything gets throttled. And, resultantly, you get frustrated, angry, and/or upset.
Rather than getting emotional at your computer—try closing yourself off to all inputs.
Stop opening new tabs. Stop watching videos. Stop having conversations. Stop reading books and articles. Stop listening to podcasts. Just, stop it all.
At least for a period of time. And at least once a day.
Just, let it all—settle.
In more cases than not, what your mind needs isn’t more information; what it needs is more space to process the excessive information it has already consumed.
In short, what you need is to plan more nothing into your days.
Life isn’t only a byproduct of what you do—it’s a byproduct of how you do what you do.
Take writing as an example. A book isn’t only a byproduct of the words that are used.
It’s a byproduct of how those words are arranged; how they are grammatically formatted; and how well they work together to communicate ideas.
If you took all of the words within War And Peace, for example, and rearranged them, changed the grammar, and disregarded the context—one of the all-time greats will be completely lost.
Same exact words. Completely different byproduct.
And so it is with life, too. What you do matters—yes. Just like what words you pick when writing a book matters. But, you can’t ignore the how.
How are you doing what you’re doing? Are you present or elsewhere? Do you care or are you only pretending to care? Are you pacing yourself or sprinting? Are you being true to who you are or are you putting up a front? Are your priorities really straight or are they actually backwards? Are you acting selfishly or selflessly?
The bottom line? Actions matter. But, don’t forget that intent colors actions with signals that are easily perceived by those whom the actions affect.
Asking questions doesn’t make you a fool; it’s you refusing to become a fool.
Seeking a coach isn’t a sign of incompetence; it’s you refusing to become incompetent.
Talking to a therapist isn’t an admission of poor mental health; it’s you refusing to let your mental health get to a poor state.
Asking for help isn’t you giving up, it’s you refusing to give up.