Risk.

Risk is the chance that things will not work out the way that you expect or calculate. Taking a risk means that you take a chance that you might fail, knowing that there is also a chance that you might succeed spectacularly.

I’ve met people that lived life in a very small bubble. Anxiety threatened to pop the bubble at any time, and the fear of risk trapped them in a small (depressing) world. I’ve also met people who constantly threw caution to the wind and made very stupid decisions. They would say they were taking a “risk” and it didn’t work out; when in reality they were being stupid.

I try to live life right in the middle of the risk zone. Most people live life there. It’s called a comfort zone, or something I guess. A comfort zone is the level of risk you are comfortable with, and is where you live your life. Some people have large comfort zones, which borders on stupidity; and other people’s comfort zones are so small they fear going outside because there’s a chance they’ll get the plague.

When I started writing this blog I was going to talk about how much of an advocate of RISK  I am. “The higher the risk, the higher the reward” I was going to say. I was going to frame it in a way that made perfect sense. My readers would say to me, “Johnson I can see now I need to take more risks, I need to smell the roses, I need to go skydiving, I need to ask for that promotion, I need to call that girl i’ve been meaning to call”. It was going to be highly uplifting.

Hundreds of hits I would’ve gotten.

I finally would’ve been able to hire that editor I’ve So (DeSpErAtley) NeEdeD.

I’m tired of talking about it though. Everyone knows that taking risks in life is generally a good thing, as long as you’re not stupid.

I think that’s a general caveat to anything that I say: take my advice, unless you’re stupid. Then don’t. Swaddle yourself up in a little blanket and make sure to protect your head with some kind of helmet as you continue through life.

Though I’m sure if you’re literate enough to read my silly scrawled sentences then you don’t have to worry about being too stupid.

Stupid people always think they’re smart, though.

So do smart people.

So does everyone.

I once talked to someone who thought they were completely and utterly average.

They must have been brilliant.

Or maybe they were just honest.

Moral to the story? Life is a risk. You’re going to die someday. It’s not going to suck for you because you’ll be dead. The thing that’s going to suck for you is if you live your life doing exactly what you hate doing, rather than what you want to be doing.

Don’t have the time or resources to do what you want? Make a change. It’s possible, your mindset just needs to change.

Don’t know what you want to be doing with your life? Welcome to the party. If you’re in that place like many of us, the best thing to do is start expanding your comfort zone. Take more risks. Find what you love by breaking out of your boring, exhausting, silly life.

You’re literally risking your life every day anyways.

Good luck I guess.

 

Photo by Sylas Boesten on Unsplash

RUST.

Oh wow look how the time is flying. The Daily blog has not been so daily lately. Let me catch you up on my life experiences:

I saw endgame twice.

I have some friends, not a huge amount, but some. We hang out occasionally. You could say i’m frightfully popular.

I had a few ideas.

I forgot more than a few ideas I had.

So it goes.

I have a little notepad in my phone where I jot ideas down. Some of them are one word; for example: BLURRY.

That’s where my blog post BLURRY came from. I liked writing that; it was back when I wasn’t a jaded and mindless writer. I had ideas. Now all my ideas die in the microwave I call a head.

Just kidding I still have ideas; I just forget to write them down. I was thinking about how I feel like a different person than I did a month ago. So much can change in a month. You could find God, you could have a meltdown, you could change careers, or win a million dollars playing the lottery.

It’s a crazy world.

Also nothing could happen in a month. You could work from 8-5, make sure to pause at a few intervals throughout the day for meals, and do it all again the next day.

Ah, the American way.

One thing over the past month that has changed is I got hopelessly addicted to sugar, or maybe I was always addicted to sugar and just now I’ve realized it. Nonetheless, I always make sure I have a sugary fruit snack ready for when the urge comes. The problem with being addicted to sugar is I’ll probably never eat another salad again.

I like salad. That’s sad.

While I haven’t become a jaded writer, over the past month I’ve become a distracted one.  I’ve been having such fun over the past few weeks, but you know what happens after you have fun:

you feel guilty.

I’ve been feeling guilty for ignoring the blog. Not out of a sense of obligation, but out of a sincere desire to write that I’ve been ignoring. When you ignore the desires of your soul you tend to feel guilty. This isn’t good, it isn’t bad, it’s just life.

So let the guilt train roll.

I had an idea recently that I thought was stupid. So I scrapped it, erased it from the notepad, and got back on the guilt train. I then forgot what the idea was, but the memory of the forgotten idea remained. When you forget an idea, no matter how stupid or small, it’s a tragedy.

Ideas may seem bad at first, but generally you’re not going to know whether or not an idea is bad until you attempt to bring life to your idea.

People don’t do that though. People have ideas and think to themselves, “ah, that idea wouldn’t work” and they wipe their little brains of the wonderful idea they had because they were too lazy to make the idea work.

I think that most people have good ideas every day. Great ideas. The best ideas. These ideas get written off and discarded like garbage 90% of the time. A person will look at their beautiful idea and think, “this has been done better by someone better” and their idea will rust.

Soon that person will just turn to rust, because all of their ideas rusted in their heads until nothing but rust was accomplished in their life.

Rust and money and want and unoriginality.

My goal with this blog was to become a better writer by writing about whatever I wanted to write about. Because good ideas are only good when someone applies them and makes something out of them.

I was feeling rusty, but when I write again, and I mean really write. When I write for me, not because I have any agenda, or because I want to get the most views, that’s when the rust starts going away.

Writing is my inspiration. It gets me all oiled up.

Okay that sounds weird.

I no longer feel all oiled up.

 

Now I just feel gross.

Photo by Sean Stratton on Unsplash

Mindset.

I am terrible at brewing coffee. Perhaps it’s my extensively complex palette; the fact that I need the coffee to be just perfect before I’m able to enjoy it to the fullest extent. I try to make it strong, it comes out too strong. I try to make it a little weaker, it tastes like dirty bean water.

I can’t win.

So now I’m on my third cup of coffee after having two disagreeable and disappointing cups, and it finally it tastes just right. My morning just isn’t complete without having a good cup of coffee. It is now 1 PM; now that I’ve actually had a decent cup of coffee, it’s time to start the day.

See, now that’s the issue for me I suppose. It is so incredibly easy to waste time when you’re not aware of what you’re doing. Today I woke up at around 9 because it’s my day off. 9 isn’t so bad. 9 is a great time to wake up. Here’s the issue though: time tends to go very fast when your only goal of the day is to drink a cup of coffee.

When you are directionless you tend to waste time, so that maybe at some point in the future you can be a person who no longer desires to waste time. I’m the person who wastes time every day until suddenly I realize that I’m wasting time. Then, after I have already wasted time, I become determined not to waste time. I repeat this ritual daily and pretend I’m a productive person.

My morning routine is filled with coffee and procrastination. I procrastinate until I’m fed up with procrastination, and then I start my day. I do this every day, seemingly forgetting that I did it yesterday, and the day before, and it was as unfulfilling yesterday as it was today.

You could call this laziness. I’m lazy in the mornings and I simply cannot seem to get my act together.

Or you could be kinder and call me a night owl, since I spend most of the morning in a daze of coffee filled grumpiness and then I slowly cascade into productivity until late into the night. This is true, that is me.

Honestly, it’s both. If I were a perfect person I wouldn’t procrastinate. I think that’s the point of self-improvement, right? You’re a person who wants to improve your imperfect self. Other people are better at being more productive throughout the day; props to them. Looking up to other people who are better than you at stuff is awesome. If you have a brain, you can do exactly what everyone else around you is doing; as long as you work hard and apply yourself.

Routine is important, schedules and tasks are important, but most importantly:

Mindset is important.

Do you have a mindset of success or a mindset of laziness today? I’ll be honest, some days I just have the wrong mindset, and that makes it harder for me to get anything worthwhile done. That’s not a big deal, though. Every day is a new opportunity for you to become better.

That’s my goal, at least.

My other goal is to be able to make the perfect cup of coffee every morning.

Photo by Sabri Tuzcu on Unsplash

 

Inspiration.

Yesterday I spent an hour staring at my computer screen wondering why I couldn’t write.

I guess that’s why I couldn’t write.

Sometimes I get up in my head about what I’m doing with my life and it makes me a bit sad. I look at the words on these pages that I’m writing and I wonder if it’s ever actually inspired by anything. Or if it’s just me mindlessly monologuing to no end.

That mindset was a bad one I think. I spent all day yesterday waiting for a sense of inspiration because I didn’t just want to sit down and write nothing. Writing nothing is the start to writing something inspired, though.

I wonder if the greatest writers of our time had days like these. Days where they didn’t have good ideas. Days where they didn’t think they were good writers. Days where they wanted to give up and stare at a wall in hopelessness.

They probably did have days like that sometimes. . .

I think the truth is sometimes inspiration just isn’t there. Sometimes you may just feel like garbage. I don’t think that’s an excuse to not try, though. I didn’t end up writing yesterday because I felt sorry for myself. I was still capable of putting some coherent sentences together; I just didn’t feel like it.

Inspiration is tricky that way. It’s not going to appear unless you work really hard for it. Obviously through history there have been some amazingly talented and inspired writers. But who’s to say that their creative masterpieces were always inspired from the get-go?

I’m sure that Tolkien had days where he didn’t feel like writing. I Bet he still sat down and wrote nonetheless.

I think that’s the difference. The great writers write no matter what. They dedicate every shred of time they have to their passion, even when they don’t feel passionate about it. They see where the words on the page take them even if they don’t have a clue where they’re going. They become inspired through action.

The more time you dedicate to your passion, the more inspired it will become. You can’t have inspiration without discipline. You will most likely fail more than once before you create something you’re truly proud of.

As they say, “Rome wasn’t built in a day”. You can’t give up because you feel bad. Everyone feels bad. Push through it. Make something you’re proud of.

The only thing stopping you from becoming great is yourself.

Trust.

I bought a coffee machine.

No more do I have to drive to Starbucks for their sub-par espresso. No more do I only have to be satisfied with only one cup of coffee through the day. Now I have all the power. I can make all the coffee I want. I can make reality whatever I want.

I’m thinking about writing a blog in praise of this coffee machine and all the pleasant joys it brings me. I’ll be like every other mom out there. Coffee is my drug. Here’s a photo of me with my mug and my pug. If you talk to me before I get my coffee, beware, I’m grumpy. You know, stuff white girls who love Starbucks say.

Coffee is my inspiration.

I was thinking today about my book that I haven’t written yet. I was thinking about the character’s that don’t actually exist yet and about what will define the theme of the book. I was thinking about trust. Trust is such an interesting element of life. Everyone views it a little differently I think.

Most people probably consider themselves trustworthy. Yet a lot of people have dealt with close friends or family destroying their trust. I’ve met many people in life who were so betrayed by others that it was really hard for them to trust new people.

I think we’ve all had people in our lives disappoint us. And even though we may not be able to admit it, we’ve all disappointed someone else in one way or another. This is why trust is such an interesting and difficult thing to grasp. It’s something that sounds so black and white: If someone is trustworthy, that means that they follow through with what they say. That you can “trust” them to get the job done, and to commit to their words and actions.

This is completely true. Trust is pretty black and white. The thing that isn’t black and white is the human element. People who are trustworthy with some things may not be trustworthy with others. You may think that you are entirely trustworthy, but you may not be able to easily trust in other people. Your bitterness for someone’s past actions may keep you from ever trusting in them again, no matter how small amount of trust they ask from you. Perhaps you don’t even trust in yourself to do the right thing based off of your own past actions.

People have a way of complicating things that we wish could be simple. I think it should be simple, and I try to apply that simplicity to my life on a daily basis.

If you’re in the business of self improvement, here’s how I think you should apply trust.

Be a trusting person.

I have talked to so many people through the years who talked about how “strong” they were. How they rely solely on themselves because other people let them down. How trust is for weak people and blah blah blah. That’s stupid. That’s nonsense. That’s silliness. It’s childish. It’s moronic. I am passionately against that mindset and I think it creates weak self pitying cry-babies.

Trust is for strong people.

A strong person should be the most trusting person you meet. They should be so trusting and believing that sometimes people think that they are a tad naive. Why? Because trust is a leaders strength. People who trust in others may sometimes get disappointed, but more often than not trust leads people to perform better, because someone believed that they could accomplish what they said they would do.

I like to think of myself as a trusting person. I consider the inner cynic that I have inside to be a partial weakness. Being cynical and cautious about people is not a good way to live life. It is much better to trust in someone and to be disappointed than to never trust at all.

Now I said trust to the point where people think you’re a tad naive. I’m not saying actually be naive. If someone you put trust in failed you, and they have no remorse for their actions, you should be a bit more cautious putting your trust in them again. I’m not saying be bitter or unforgiving towards them, but just learn from what has happened. The best example I have for this is this: If your girlfriend breaks your heart, maybe don’t give them your heart again. You can still be friends, or you know, “friendly” I guess.

I guess what I mean is don’t be self-destructive and say that you’re “trusting”.

Be a trustworthy person.

Being trustworthy is difficult and easy at the same time. No matter how much you try to be trustworthy in life, there is always someone that will consider you to be the opposite, and that’s okay. That’s life. People are going to think what they’re going to think about you. The important thing is for you to consistently become better, so that you can look back and see that you are a better person now than you have ever been.

In terms of trust, there’s only one thing that you should actively focus on doing ALL THE TIME.

Say what you mean.

Sugarcoating, white lies, actual lies, people pleasing, communication issues, these are all things that you need to avoid in life. Don’t avoid saying the truth because you’re afraid of how people are going to react. Don’t say something simply because you think that’s what someone else wants to hear.

I think that people who consider themselves good at “reading between the lines” are morons. A trusting person listens to what other people say, and believes them. You should be the type of person that is worth believing when you speak. That means you speak the truth. That means you try to make yourself as understandable as possible. That means communicating effectively and following through on your promises.

If you’re saying what you mean, you’re not making empty promises. If you say you’re going to do something that means you’re going to do it. You should treat your words with the weight that they should have. If your words are meaningless and wanton, then people are going to treat you as if your trust is meaningless and wanton. They won’t trust in you.

If you want to be trustworthy and trusting, that’s what you should do. You should listen to what other people are saying, and trust that they are not intentionally lying to you. Then you should act that way in turn. 

You’d be surprised how honest people are when you actually treat them that way.

People are worth trusting in. You’re worth trusting in. God is worth trusting in.

Coffee is worth trusting in.

Photo by McKenna Phillips on Unsplash

BOOK REVIEW. SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE.

BOOK REVIEW. SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE.

I just finished Slaughterhouse-five for the second time. What a rush. What a book. What a writer.

Slaughterhouse-five pulls you in and doesn’t let you go. The book is charming, full of wit and dark humor. The book is sad, full of war and death. So it goes.

This book is about Dresden getting bombed into a trillion little pieces. It’s about the cruelty of war. It’s about the mind of a broken man.

It’s about getting abducted by aliens and put into a zoo on Tralfamadore.

I’m going to say the same thing I say before every book review: I’m a blogger, not a literary critic. I read this book. I think it’s good. Here’s why:

After putting down Slaughterhouse 5 I immediately picked up Our Mutual Friend By Charles Dickens.  I was immediately bored to tears. It’s not Chuck’s fault; Chuck is a genius. It’s Vonnegut’s fault. Vonnegut is also a genius.

Vonnegut’s writing is a unique style called Postmodernism. The way I would describe it is that the story is disjointed and nonlinear. It jumps around different points of the story, and it is connected by the writing style. Even though something completely different may be happening in the next paragraph, it doesn’t feel out of place, because the paragraphs are connected by the way the author is writing. You never feel like you’re lost while reading it, and you never feel like the moments where you transition from different points in the story are jarring. Everything feels natural and entertaining.

The story still feels as though it progresses, even though it’s being told in this strange manner. It has a beginning, a middle, a climax, and an end. Even though you know exactly what’s going to happen throughout the story, you have a insatiable desire to keep reading. Vonnegut crafts his paragraphs in such a sharp rhythmic way that it is such a pleasure to read.

There are moments where you will be on the verge of tears, or laughing out loud. The story is grounded, yet at the same time it is fantastic and strange. It takes you from these surreal scenes of a boy who is hardly a man taken prisoner by the Germans in the war, to scenes with the same character being abducted by a spaceship decades later. Literally, these two story points happen paragraphs apart, and it flows perfectly.

I’m sure this book isn’t for everyone, though.

I gave one of my sister’s another book called Breakfast for Champions by Vonnegut once.

She didn’t like it.

I was furious.

Vonnegut isn’t for everyone. I guess everything isn’t for everyone. Some people don’t like chocolate. Some people don’t like summer. Some people don’t like the smell of the ocean.

So if you’re one of those crazy people, maybe don’t read Slaughterhouse-five.

In a more serious tone though, this book is violently sad and darkly humorous. If you can’t stand harsh language or serious tones (like war. Like World War 2)  then maybe it’s a better idea to stick with something a bit more light-hearted. Like The Princess Bride.

This book is immensely difficult for me to describe. So I apologize if this review has confused you at all. All I mean to say is that this is one of the most entertaining books I’ve ever read. It’s a little over two hundred pages long, and you could get a copy for under ten bucks.

Get this book. Read it. Let me know if I was right to say it’s one of the most entertaining books you’ll ever read.

Because it’s one of the most entertaining books you’ll ever read.

“If you’re ever in Cody. Wyoming, just ask for wild bob.”

The Melody Man.

Today I sat in a chair for a couple hours and listened to someone speak. I wasn’t listening to what they were saying. Instead I was imagining a story where people who couldn’t sleep would go to a huge auditorium. They would spend lots of money, if not their whole savings to go to this place. This place would only be open at night. It would have soft velvet cushions. There would be warm milk or hot chocolate in the cup holder.
The people would sit down and listen to a man on stage. The man’s job was to make them fall asleep. He was very good at it. His voice was melodic and it dripped with honey. Every word he said tickled the ears of the sleepy audience. He said nothing. He said it well. He said it with enthusiasm.
The people would do their best to pay attention. They wanted their money’s worth. They would tune their ears, and sit up in their chairs. They wanted to know what the melody man was saying. They wanted to glean from this charming speaker.
The more they paid attention, though, the more out focus the man became. The more they listened the harder it was for them to focus. The man was trying so hard now to get his point across, but his point was always out of his own grasp. The man didn’t mind that though. His voice was flowing silk; he liked the sound of it.
The audience drifted on the river of silk into a sweet sleep.
The insomniacs would snore.
The talking man would continue talking until every single person was asleep.
Then he would talk some more.
*
*
*
Needless to say I wasn’t paying attention to the speaker tonight.
He made me sleepy.

Smile.

Today I woke up with a face set in marble. I was a liquid man who melted into his clothes and glided into his car. The traffic was behind me as the windows blended the scenery into a blurry green. My eyes were glazed over with sleep, a stoic demeanor had gripped my limbs and face and mouth; I was a stone.

My car slowed and the scenery became a still life. I slid through the drive through of Starbucks, as I do some days when I don’t want to chisel my face into a smile. With a coffee in hand and liquid gold warming my cold insides, I began to thaw.

Sometimes I spend the entire day thawing out. Sometimes I wake up warm and cheerful, other days I don’t thaw at all.

Some days I’m a carbonite man.

I felt like a carbonite man today. In other words, I was grumpy. I was brooding. I didn’t want to talk. When Jeff talked to me about how nice the weather was today I just stared at him, “sure” I said.

I’m not sure if Jeff likes me anymore.

Coffee may be able to warm your frozen heart and cheer you up a bit, but it is a crutch. The solution to your grumpiness doesn’t come from your feelings. It comes from your actions. My grumpiness went away today when I chose to “turn my frown upside down’ and smiled.

Smiles are amazing. If I could give you some advice, something that is just for you, not for anyone else, I’d say you should smile more. Smiling isn’t really about other people; sure, when you smile you seem friendlier and I think people like others who smile more frequently. That’s not what it’s about, though. It’s not about presenting yourself as happy to others so that they can like you more. It’s about you being happy around others.

Being happy is way better than being a chunk of marble.

I’ve learned recently that I don’t smile for others. It’s selfish, I know. I smile for myself. I smile because when I smile it makes me feel happier inside. It makes me feel kinder. It makes me feel like the type of friend that I want to be for others.

It is strictly for myself.

The reason why it’s for myself is because others are going to interpret your smile however they want. They might not peg you as genuine. They might not like your dimples. Maybe your happiness makes them uncomfortable. Honestly, there’s a lot of reasons. People work in different ways, it’s totally okay.

My point here is that when you want to feel good you should smile. Smile because you’re presenting your best self to the world. Smile because you are genuine, not because you are trying to be something you’re not. Break that brooding habit for yourself.

It’s a discipline, just like everything else in life.

You have a beautiful smile.

Your frown is kinda gross though, like,  eww. 

Photo by Caju Gomes on Unsplash

Naps.

Today I went to Starbucks (as I always do in my free time) to write. It was so cold I had wished I had a sweater. I also ordered a cold drink in my thoughtlessness. I was colder than a skinny penguin.

Normally I feel good in cold environments. I think it gets the creative blood pumping. Not today. Today as I shivered in Starbucks the only thought on my mind was how fast I could get back home.

When I got home, however, another problem occurred. I was warm. I was relaxed. I was snuggled up in a blanket attempting to write a paragraph of my book. I would write a word and slump down in my seat. I’d write a sentence and lurch into a comfier position.

When I had a full paragraph I was practically tucked neatly into bed.

The odds were stacked against me, I drifted into sleep. I wonder if that’s why Stephen King did so much coke in the 80’s. He just couldn’t keep himself awake. I think that’s a bit of an extreme route to take though Steve. Just have a cup of coffee, take a nap, don’t do a line of coke on your notepad.

Perhaps that’s just me though. My time of productivity is crammed in between dinner and bedtime. There’s a solid couple hours where I’m inspired to write and I don’t care if it’s garbage or not. That’s discipline, right? You just write when it feels right and you don’t care whether or not it’s good.

Discipline.

I think the cat is a bad influence on me. It sleeps all day, and has spurts of radioactive energy at night. I’d like to say I’m not like that, but here I am at 11:30 typing like a madman.

If your tired it’s okay to take a nap honestly. It’s also just as important to finish your days strong. If you are setting out to accomplish a goal today, you should make sure it gets done. While it’s okay to give yourself time, and relax, it’s also a good thing to hold yourself accountable.

You will always be obligated to yourself. Sure, don’t destroy yourself with pressure, but also don’t destroy yourself with laziness. Self destructive tendencies come in a myriad of forms. Life is a balancing act after all, isn’t it?

Just like a cat. You have to balance your naps, and the moments where you run around screeching with fury.

Who knew cat’s would inspire me so much.

Their eyes are just so wise.

Life always comes back to discipline. If you want to accomplish your dreams, you have to perform the balancing act.

Set your thermostat, grab your notebook, drink some coffee, then take a nap.

 

Photo by freestocks.org on Unsplash

Lost in Walmart.

Late this evening I strolled into the mirrored daylight of a Super Walmart. Somewhere among the endless rows of stuff settled in a frozen corner of the place was the chicken I needed. While I walked to grab the chicken I reminisced; I thought back to when I was a kid running around K-Mart. K-Mart was a store filled with endless aisles of mystery to explore every time I went. This Super Walmart was easily eight times larger than our good old K-Mart back home. I wonder if kids explore it with the same wonder and curiosity that I explored that ancient decrepit K-Mart.

I wonder how many kids are lost in a Super Walmart right now. I still remember the day I got lost in my K-Mart; I had to walk up to a stranger and ask them where my mommy was. Now Walmart’s are so massive you never have to see anyone. A kid could walk for hours before he even finds a stranger to ask, “where is my mommy?”

Sometimes I think about what it would be like to experience life again through the eyes of a small child. I wonder if it’s really any different from when I was a kid. It’s probably not that different. Kids are kids. I’m sure a thousand years ago there was a market somewhere where a young mother was trading her sheepskin fleece for some food, and her little boy got lost.

Maybe he got distracted by all of the wonderful things that he could ask his mom for. Maybe she’d have a little money to buy him a top carved of wood, or some marbles, or some other thing kids back then played with. I mean they had toys, right?  Maybe they just banged rocks together for fun. Kids nowadays bang rocks together for fun too, I’ve seen it.

That little boy would have to find a stranger to help him find his mommy too. Thank God for all those strangers, reuniting little kids with their mommy’s every day.

Maybe kids in the next hundred years won’t have this problem. Maybe they won’t have to walk into a Walmart because all of their groceries are delivered to them by drones. Kids won’t ever need to be helped by strangers again. I mean, it’s probably safer that way anyways, right? That’s what life is: The pursuit of safety.

Those kids will bang rocks together too.

There’s something amazing about the lens that kids see the world through. It’s all a first experience for them. For a kid, Walmart isn’t just a store, it’s an adventure. Life is a game to them. They don’t have to deal with the responsibilities of adulthood. Or the emotions and heartbreaks of growing up.

They just have firsts and adventures.

I think that’s something we need to learn from kids. Don’t lose that little part of yourself that wants to go out and have an adventure. Go get lost. Go have a new experience. Go bang rocks together.

Keep that childlike part of you.

It’s in there somewhere.

 

Photo by Fabio Bracht on Unsplash