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Tag: Personal Stories

I Got My First Ever Tattoo Today…

…Permanently inking onto my body three images that symbolically represent three deeply meaningful concepts to me. They are:

1) A tree with exposed roots: symbolically reminding me that the branches of happiness can only ever reach as high as the roots of sadness go deep. It’s a reminder that down is often the means to higher up. And that inner work—work that looks at the darker, heavier, maybe less desirable emotions—is often the means to the lighter, warmer, maybe more desirable emotions.

2) A reading warrior: symbolically representing mind/body balance. That the ultimate virtue—the path that’ll lead to the greatest realization of our potential—is the harmonistic continued development of both mind and body. That one without the other leads to more throttling than gains.

…And more pointedly, that mental readiness for battle (literal and metaphorical) is just as important as physical readiness.

3) An enso circle shaped as a sun in the background: symbolically representing the deep connection between presence and warmth. The enso itself is traditionally drawn in a single brushstroke as an expression of the moment and is a reminder for me to always come back to the here and now. Because it’s here, and only here, that we can each ever truly express the warmth that we were born to share.

…And why not just make this my phone screensaver or framed picture in my house? …I guess, for me, it’s because it shows a different level of seriousness. It demonstrates my resolve. It shows a level of determination to live by these principles that a picture or a screensaver doesn’t quite match.

Misfit Inspiration

When I finally agreed to play basketball with a new group of guys—I was nervous.

I hadn’t ever played basketball on a team and had no formal training or experience. I rarely watched games or any kind of tutorial video.

All I had was what I learned playing pick-up ball in driveways and parks at various times throughout my life and a pretty solid fitness baseline.

What I saw when I first showed up was a group of guys who were organized and experienced. They were calling picks and plays and communicating things that sounded like a different language to me—and they were all good.

But, of everybody on the court playing, one guy stood out to me.

He was shorter, didn’t have the cleanest technique, and wasn’t the most talented—but he played like he belonged. And later, I came to find out he was one of the group organizers who had been playing for years and years with this squad.

Of everybody on that court, he was the one who inspired me the most. Not the most skilled player; not the best shooter; and not the player who could dunk—but, the player who I could relate to the most.

This was a really important lesson for me. You don’t have to be the best in the game to inspire and you don’t have to be the most talented to play. And even if you don’t look the part—it’s acting the part that makes all the difference.

So to the people out there who are doing things despite mismatching societal norms—thank you. Y’all are far more inspiring than you might ever know.

Celebrating 13 Years of MoveMe

13 Years ago TODAY, I uploaded my first quote to MoveMeQuotes.com.

Since then I’ve hand-picked, personally typed, and shared:

✓ 6,682 Quotes
✓ 4,287 Picture Quotes
✓ 638 Blogs (Lists, Stories, Excerpts, etc)
✓ 99 Books Quoted From
✓ 49 Poems

All tagged, indexed, and organized to help people easily find what they need to keep moving forward in their lives.

The lesson, in this case, isn’t found inside the 11,755 resources I’ve published and shared over the past 13 years, though. It’s found, instead, on that magical day when I went from zero to one.

…On the day when I went from don’t have a quote website to have a quote website.

…On the day when I could’ve easily said, “What’s the point—there are hundreds of quote websites with thousands of published quotes already…” but, found a way to silence my inner critic and made a point to do it anyway.

…On the day when I could’ve easily been overwhelmed by the millions of options that came with website creation including: hosting, domain name, security, theme, plug-ins, SEO, speed, font families, colors, tag lines, copyright, tagging, categories, logo, etc, etc, etc… Not to mention the millions of options that came with choosing where the hell to start when it came to posting individual quotes… and just picked things that made sense at the time.

THIS is the lesson: the starting... the beginning of something that’ll grow with you, somewhere manageable, and in whatever way works for now.

…And trusting in yourself to figure out the rest along the way. 🙂

Zero isn’t a foundation that anything can be built on…

…But one? One is an excellent place to start.

Happy birthday, MoveMe!

The Noise of Paradise

The 50k run I completed last week was composed of four laps in and around Burning Man city.

The absolute hardest moment of the run happened when I was completing my third lap.

Just as I turned the corner and the checkpoint/finish line came into sight, I saw a group of around 50+ people celebrating, cheering, and lounging after having completed the run.

…They finished an entire lap ahead of me.

…And I had an entire lap to go.

…As in I had to deliberately choose to go back out into the heat, windstorms, and longgggg stretches of uninhabited desert WITH the agony of already wrecked ankles and knees when what was right in front of me looked nothing short of paradise.

…I seriously considered stopping.

….I seriously questioned my life decisions.

…I seriously wanted nothing more than to collapse and complain and lounge.

…But, something inside me told me to just keep moving.

To slowly, slowly, move away from that finish line—my checkpoint—and let the noise of paradise fade into the background… until it subtilely disappeared.

And not long thereafter, it did.

…And I was back in it.

…Undistracted by the sounds of other people’s victories and the visions of other people’s reward. I no longer had other people’s voices in my head nor did I have their relieved faces in my sight. I was free from the temptations of comfort that were trying to pull me more and more forcibly back towards its favorite zone.

…And I was running my own race again.

This was the key decision—the crux point—that got me through.

This was the moment I actually finished the race.

Ultra

I ran my first ever ultramarathon at Burning Man this past week.

…And let me tell you: I had zero intentions of running an ultramarathon at Burning Man this past week.

It all started when I met Justin—an ultramarathon runner in my camp.

Justin is a crazy son-of-a-gun who completed a 120k run at one point in his life, but presents in the most calm, cool, collected—un-crazy sort of way.

It was Sunday when we both were getting to know each other after having invested a significant amount of energy into building our 30 person camp that I discovered his intention.

“So, what are you up to tomorrow?”

“Probably just taking it easy. I’m running the ultra on Tuesday.”

…He said about as nonchalantly as you or I might’ve if we were going to the drug store to buy sunscreen.

“…You’re running the 50k?!”

“…In the desert?!”

“…With these dust storms and heat?”

Justin:“Yeahhhh.”

…He replied calmly to each objection without a hint of worry in sight.

“I’ve run a marathon before, but that’s my max.”

I continued as I then proceeded to list all of the reasons why 26.2 miles was my limit.

And as he listened to each rational thought—posture relaxed, legs crossed, gaze soft—I felt a contrasting rigidity form as I drew myself into a box of limitations.

And when I finished he said plainly:“Yeahhhh, well if you’ve run a marathon before, a 50k is just a few miles more.”

“…And it’s not like you have to go fast.” He continued.

“…You can take your time.”

“…If you don’t finish, you don’t finish.”

“…And if you do… well…”

“…Then you do.“

Petting Mushrooms

…Oh, and one more thing I noticed from the kid I wrote about yesterday.

After our final interaction and after having walked a few sidewalk blocks away, I glanced back over my shoulder and saw him squatted in his front lawn petting a mushroom.

It was so small that his tiny, three year old hand could have held and crushed five or six of them together with ease.

But, there he was—petting that baby mushroom and giving it a level of undivided attention and care that I’m only used to giving my highest level tasks.

And if I’m being honest, while I was on that walk, I’m pretty sure what I spent most of my time thinking about was my highest level tasks. I didn’t notice the mushroom or the million other present-moment miracles on my path because I wasn’t all the way there.

I was somewhere else. As is often the case with so many of us in life.

Will petting mushrooms add a ton of value to my life?

…That’s the wrong question.

How can I get myself into a space where I’m able to notice, with full present awareness, what’s right in front of my eyes—like that three year old child?

Now that’s a question worth chewing on.

P.s. I’m going back to Burning Man this year! If any of you lovely readers will be, too, shoot me a reply! I’d love to try an arrange some meetups.

Curiosity and Response

There’s a little boy who lives down the street from me, 3 years old maybe, who runs up to me every time I walk my dog past his house.

“Hi” he’ll yell excitedly as he runs up to us—carefully staying outside the range of the leash as he’s still apprehensive of my dog.

“What are you doing? What’s your dog’s name? Where are you going?”

Are the three questions he asks in quick succession each time.

“Walking my dog. Stella. Back towards home.”

Is how I’ll quickly reply.

He’s always just as excited to find out as he was the last time he asked.

What I love about this little boy—and with many kids at this age—is that magical mix of courage and curiosity.

There is zero hesitation in his excited yell. There is no gap between his curiosity and his response. And there’s no self-consciousness or self-limiting beliefs that keep him reserved and quiet as a spectator in the background.

How… I wondered to myself as Stella and I continued home… do I unlearn my way back to such a pure and valuable state?

How… I wonder now as I write this for you to read… can we unlearn our way back to such a pure and valuable state as a society?

P.s. In case you missed it, you can read the best of what I posted to MoveMe Quotes last week, here.