Adventure – It’s what’s for breakfast, every day!

Woke up this morning to a beautiful sunrise. I made a simple, but beautiful and nutritious breakfast (4 farm fresh eggs, scrambled and a green smoothie with, pretty much, everything in it.) I showered, shaved, got dressed, filled my pockets with my EDC (Every Day Carry). I turned on the Sonos and set it up to play the “A Dotted Line” album from Nickel Creek. If you don’t already listen to Nickel Creek, well, you might just want to check them out.

So, the first song, “The Rest of My Life” came on, and Sara Watkins started singing, and, I realized, I’m on that adventure again. I mean, nothing particularly exciting planned for today, just some work, and some thinking, and I might even have to pay a couple of bills. But, it’s an adventure. The whole thing is an adventure.

What is your perspective on strife, on struggle? Does it make you weary? Do you dread some of the things you do? Do you despise most of them? Or do you wake up each morning thinking, “BRING IT!”. What will this day hold? Who will I meet? What will I learn? What will I witness, see, participate in? That’s mine. Every fucking morning, I wake up, and can’t believe I get to do it again. Are there things fucked up in this world? You BET!

There are bitter assholes walking around everywhere looking to make things burn because of their own jacked up perspective. They don’t consider themselves witnesses, or participants, I suppose, but, rather, as victims. (That might be the most commas I’ve ever included in a single sentence.)  You can try to help them see the real perspective: that they are actually a prion compared to the rest of the universe, which doesn’t give a shit about them, and that’s OK. Seriously, all we are is a lowly sentient creature, who, by the grace of our intelligence, can contemplate our own death.



Don’t get caught up in it, dude. It’s just life. You are a witness. If you die today, it doesn’t really matter; grab what you can this morning, though. Don’t fill your body with a bunch of junk and turn your life over to the mobs, the masses, your boss, your wife, your kids, or anyone else. Your life is yours. Its purpose is itself. So, get some really great coffee. Live a place you love. Take a moment to savor your child. (He’s not really yours, but, you can think of it that way, if you must. He, like you, is his own life; his own choices; his own witness). This life is amazingly beautiful, be it for 10 minutes or 120 years. The breathing is the key. The living is the key. Find your bliss, man. Find it quickly.

I’m off. Thanks for listening.


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