Limits.

Binging Friends is a heck of a way to spend a few weeks.

I’m not saying that’s what I’ve been doing, but it does indeed sound like a heck of away to spend a few weeks.

What have you been accomplishing recently? I don’t feel like I’ve been up to very much. It’s been relaxing and frustrating. I told myself this blog is for me, but what do I want to talk about? That’s what’s been on my mind a bit I think.

This is an avenue for me to work on my writing and expose my thoughts; though every time I’ve thought about the blog for the past few weeks I just sort of shifted it out of my mind. Its been a little fly buzzing around my ears that I just keep swatting away. Every day the subtle desire comes to write about something, but it gets nudged aside.

That gentle nudge has been bothering me lately. How easy it is to cap a passion that should be boiling inside me. How boring I am. How pointless I feel when I throw away my pen over a badly written sentence or two.

I look at someone else, someone who is not me. I think about their purpose, their dreams. Shakespeare was a focused man. His pen bent to his will, the only thing he broke was his back and his discipline for his passion. His passion was relentless. His genius was ever-flowing. Kurt Vonnegut wrote thousands of words only to dash them against the wall because it didn’t sound right. He woke to write his passion, if the only thing he had was a broken pencil and scattered scraps of paper he would still write something worth reading.

Where is that passion? Where is that meaning in myself? In yourself? Where is the passion in life, that fire, that purpose of being? These people you idolize into these genius figures of single mind and purpose, why can’t I just be like them?

Well, life isn’t fair I guess. We’re dealt a hand that we must play. We have opportunities to grow and improve, and that’s our choice.

I feel we limit ourselves by comparing ourselves to others who are better than us. There’s a mental battle I’m constantly dealing with when I try to write creatively. I tend to look at the negative aspect of how “it’s all been done before, so what could I possibly create?”

A subtle downside to this amazing and comfortable life we live in is that if you lack a singular purpose, you’ll probably be fine. You can live your entire life striving for nothing really in particular, and you’ll be fine. I don’t want to be fine. I want to accomplish something. The struggle, the battle is what boils that passion in our souls.

What do you want?

Are you limiting yourself by scattering your focus?

When I don’t work on what I’m passionate about, I feel empty inside. Yet I still have no problem putting it aside when there’s something easy I can distract myself with.

It’s hard to be single minded when there’s so much opportunity to be distracted. Whether that’s with friends or work or stress, it’s easy. The hard thing is focusing on what you want to accomplish, even when it’s not expedient.

Are you putting yourself down because someone else has accomplished more than you currently hope to accomplish?

Are you avoiding your passion because you fear it won’t be good enough?

I want to encourage you in your purpose today. No matter how high and lofty your goals are, as long as you remain disciplined and focused, you can do it. Stop putting off that desire within you. Don’t devalue your passion because your not as good as your idols.

If it’s your passion, stop limiting yourself.

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.

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

Boredom.

Yesterday at work I was confronted with a situation that I have not experienced for quite some time. I was staring at the ceiling, waiting patiently for the caffeine to kick in so I could stop suffering from droopy eyes in front of my customers, and I realized: I was bored. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I was horribly and fantastically bored. I tried to consider more about the interesting situation I had found myself in. Helpless, I looked for work to do, and found none. I tried to help my co-workers with their work, yet they were as bored and aimless as I was.

Resigned to my fate, I ate a few bread-sticks.

In life we don’t have very many opportunities to be bored any more. At least for me, I always have something that I’m able to focus on if I have some free time. If I even have an ounce of time where I’m not focused on something I could just pop open my phone and have a world of information and entertainment available to me.

As a culture, we are constantly filling up our schedules with stuff in order to avoid a dull moment. We make ourselves rush and hurry from work to play again and again in the subtle avoidance of the horror of having a moment alone with our own thoughts. I can attest that on my busiest days, where I didn’t bother to give myself some time to breath, my brain didn’t really wake up until I was getting ready to go to bed. In that brief moment of time where I rested my head on my pillow, my brain finally got some time to explode in thought.

I hate it when that happens. It keeps me from sleep.

I am an advocate of boredom.

Let’s talk about your brain for a second. Your brain is a greedy information consuming monster. It will ingest as much as you possibly have the desire to give it. It loves entertainment. That’s what it wants. If your heart craves blood, your brain craves information. In the modern world your brain can be entertained for years on end; till your bones become weak and your skin melts into a blubbery mass. As long as your brain consumes, it’s happy letting your teeth turn to dust in your mouth as you swallow bread-sticks whole.

Okay I feel like I got a bit dark there. What I mean is that every day it’s important to let yourself be, well, bored. Just because your brain is entertained, and you may be a “busy bee” doesn’t mean that you’re growing. It just means you’re busy. I can be busy taking tables and watching Marvel movies constantly till Endgame hits in my free time.

Doesn’t mean it’s good for me.

Boredom is a catalyst for deeper thought. Having time where you are able to just focus on thinking whatever your brain wants to think about is what boredom is for. Being able to entertain yourself by just thinking, or by focusing on something you’ve been brushing aside, that’s what boredom is for. Some of your greatest moments of inspiration will probably come from a moment where you are utterly, helplessly, fantastically bored.

I’m not saying that it’s good to be bored all the time. Or to be bored at your job. I think that if you’re bored all the time, you probably need to tighten up your schedule a bit. And if you are bored at your job all the time, maybe you need to reconsider why you’re at your job. Is it a means to an end? Or are you wasting your time doing something that isn’t beneficial to your life?

Make sure you get yourself good and bored sometimes. Have an old fashioned date with your brain. Sit back and relax, think about nothing, and see where it takes you.

Just put down your phone when I’m talking to you, gosh I’m not that boring of a storyteller, Phil you ingrate.

Photo by Tonny Tran on Unsplash

Staples.

*Book Update* The lead character’s name will be Dale. That is all.

Today’s been good. I’ve started a new book, I’ve gone to church, I made some chicken. Staples of a good day: books, church, chicken. Though, I’m starting to suspect I cooked the chicken improperly because my stomach is aching. I also fell asleep in church. . .

The book is great though!

Certain things you do in life might be staples for you. You might eat ice cream every Friday in celebration for the weekend. Maybe you have a show that you like to watch on Thursdays. Maybe on Tuesday’s you take psychedelics and dance in the moonlight. . .

Just don’t catch a cold.

Routine is great for finding your staples in life. My friends and I like to play games on Sunday night. We sit in circles, roll dice, talk, you know, game stuff. That’s a staple I enjoy. I also enjoy actual staples. They’re useful.

Wait am I talking about staples or rituals? Or both? I think game night is a ritual, and chicken is a staple. I’ve figured it out people. I’m also leaving all the above in for reference. So now we can all know the difference between staples and rituals. We’re all learning. Together.

Let’s talk about staples

I’m going to give you some staples for a good life. We’re back to lists ladies and gentlemen. It’s gonna be a fun one.

 

     1. Books.

Did you think I was finished talking about books? No. Because when all the other staples fail you, when your chicken is bad and your ice cream is melted, books will still be there for you.

I seriously cannot stress enough how important reading is. Reading makes you smarter. It lets you look at worlds unknown and learn things that you might not have ever learned before. It’s like magic. You read some words on paper in a pattern that someone else made up, and you learn things about people and about yourself. It’s just magic.

I especially think it’s good to read fiction. Non-fiction is good too; all those self help books and history books and autobiographies and such and such and such. . . Fiction, though, that’s where the world of reading really opens up. Fiction allows you to temporarily experience someone else’s life. It broadens your perspective on life.

Books are like friends. The more time you spend together, the more you become like them. If you read smart books, you become smarter. It’s just like that.

Plus, if you read dumb books you’ll still be smarter than the person who doesn’t read at all.

So that’s something.

Second staple: You think I’m going to say chicken, and I would say chicken. Chicken is great.

The last chicken I ate made me feel bad. I’m done with chicken. I’m going straight beef from now on. I don’t care how bad for me it is. Never again will I eat chicken. I know it’s my fault for either not cooking it properly or by not checking the date to see if it was expired, but it’s not my fault. It’s the chickens fault.

     

     2. Coffee

That’s right. Coffee can’t poison you. Nobody’s ever said to themselves, “I think i had some bad coffee today. It’s making me sick”. Nope. Coffee will never let you down that easy. It always gives you that little boost you need, and if you didn’t get it on the first cup you can easily have another! And another after that!

Creativity runs on coffee. In my mind, people who don’t drink caffeine and have normally functioning brains are amazing to me. Their either demi-gods or superhumans. I just know I’m not one of them.

Thus, coffee is a staple. It’s a wonderful addiction and I think everyone should be part of it, and enjoy it.

Most coffee drinkers have that opinion. I think we’re almost cult-like, actually.

The Cult of Coffee.

Good lists come in threes so here is the final staple for a good life.

     

     3. Music.

If coffee is my lifeblood, music is my heart. It pumps inspiration to my brain every day. There’s nothing like a good song to lift me up, and nothing like a sad song when I want to feel just the right kind of sad.

I’ll listen to anything, and I hope you do too. Music is like books in a way. They both make you think, and they both inspire you in different ways.

Sure, maybe you only listen to the same two bands from the nineties. You like what you like, and nothing can change that. I mean, that’s cool. You’re a different person after all.

I’ll think you’re a robot, though.

 

And you probably like Ska, too.
You monster.

Photo by Mel Baylon on Unsplash

FEAR. (and cats.)

Chicken is in the crockpot. I think my mind is also in the crockpot. It’s certainly not where it’s supposed to be.

I discovered myself staring at the wall earlier, completely unaware of what I was thinking about. Maybe I’m tired. Maybe the cat drugged me. Who knows.

I mean I’m not saying the cat’s evil, I’m just saying that all cats are inherently evil and self serving. If I leave it alone for two seconds it bites all my books up and gets hair all over my clothes. I think he knows too. He knows just how to torture me and push my buttons. So would I put it past him to do something even worse? Dastardly, even? No.

He is a cat, though, so I probably shouldn’t be paranoid.

I wonder if some people are paranoid about that kind of stuff. Like, “The cats are out to kill me” kinda thing. . . Probably. I should write a paper on them. Maybe be journalistic for once and try to interview someone who thinks cats are hidden mini assassins who are trying to take over the world.

That’s a great idea for a story.

Someday, just wait: CATSASSINS By JOHNSON DUNN.

I’ve gone off track, haven’t I?

No, I haven’t. There never was a track. This is the track. The crazy track. Where I talk about Catsassins and how my brain is melting into pudding.

Do you have anything you’re irrationally afraid of? I’ve always been afraid of roller-coasters. Nothing activates fight or flee in me quite like those wooden monsters. Ever since I was a kid they’ve always been rather traumatizing to me. I always knew they weren’t unsafe. I just don’t like the feeling.

Maybe I wouldn’t call it a fear. Maybe the logical side of me would call it a distaste. I don’t like roller-coasters, so why would I torture myself by going on one?  

Then again, I’ve had conversations with people about their irrational fears, and I wasn’t able to give them that grace. Some were afraid of insects, or fog, or the sea. . . I mean sure, there’s dangers in life. A spider might jump on you and bite your face off. The sea might drag you down to oblivion. Fog might envelop you where you can’t see and you jog neatly off a cliff. Those actually don’t sound very irrational do they?

Well they are.  

Caution would say that if you don’t know how to swim well, don’t go in the deep end. You absolutely should be afraid of treading water if you can’t swim well, but this is an easily fixable problem: learn how to swim.

The same with the other two. Sure, being afraid of spiders has it’s practical cases; you won’t frolic through spider infested fields asking all the black widows to crawl into your ears if you’re afraid of them. But again, if you’re not a moron you know that as a human, you can crush an insignificant insect with your shoe. Spiders can’t bite through your shoe.

I think the example I’m trying to give here is that fear has a purpose in life. It’s to tell you when things are ACTUALLY dangerous for you. That is it’s only purpose. Irrational fears are dumb. If you can rationalize a solution to your fear, then it’s probably not a great fear.

I still hate roller-coasters though. So I’m a hypocrite I guess. Sue me.  

Don’t live your life in a box because you’re afraid of what’s outside it.

*

*

Catsassins will strike anywhere anyways.

They’re coming for you.

They call them “The Fluffy Death”.

You won’t be able to scream, you’ll be choking on a hairball.

 

 

Shoes.

I’m supposed to be going to bed right now. Remember when you were a kid and you hated bed time? I used to sneak to the landing of the stairs and listen to my dad talk with my older sisters late at night (Ten was late for me back then). I was always so jealous they got to stay up. Now I’m jealous of seven-year-old Johnson; he got to go to bed early.

It’s not even that I can’t go to bed right now. I’m an adult, I go to bed whenever I want. “whenever I want” means I torture myself with being awake late into the night because I want to write the blog. You always have to choose in life I guess. Today’s choice is sleep or torture.

Life is pain, I guess.

Well hopefully this isn’t torture for you. If reading this was torture I’d wonder why you’re still here.

Then again, you might have stopped reading a while ago.

I think I’m most inspired when I’m close to sleep. When my eyes are just on the edge of shutting and I can barely see the screen of my laptop, that’s when the magic happens.

So, what to write about? God, I don’t know. I guess I’m a man without a purpose right now, huh? Just kind of shuffling my thoughts out there onto paper. Though, I do have one thought I’d love to run by you.

Shoes.

Yeah, shoes. Do you like your shoes? I don’t. I hate them. I think they’re the bane of my entire existence.

I’m not talking about my normal “day-to-day” shoes. Those are great! I’m talking about my work shoes. The black leather dungeons that I send my feet to for punishment. I worked a double shift at my job yesterday in those moccasins. I mean I wish they were moccasins. Anything would have been better than Wal-Mart’s soul crushing sole crushers.

After only an hour of standing on my feet I felt like hell itself had perfectly aligned the soles of these shoes for maximum punishment. If Dante was writing this, he’d say the first level of hell is where they make these shoes. 

Now a reasonable person might say that I shouldn’t complain. That I should just buy another pair of shoes and be done with this. I am not a reasonable person at the moment, though. Those shoes took the decency out of me. If I sound extra passionate in this blog it’s because I am. Right now I have an animalistic desire to survive. To survive putting on those shoes day after day. To defeat them. To make them my slave. I could just buy a different pair, I could do a lot of things.  But right now, this very minute, I own the pain.

The shoes will not win.

Plus the pair I ordered online won’t arrive for another week.

Sometimes your shoes are out to get you. There’s no real logic to it either. Is it the amount of padding? Is it the heel to toe ratio? Is it the material? What is it about those shoes that makes my feet melt into pain and blisters?

The cat is eating my backpack. I better stop him before he chokes on a zipper.

Don’t buy cheap shoes.

Don’t eat backpacks.

 

Photo by Manki Kim on Unsplash

 

 

 

 

Spring.

So I walked outside this morning and was startled to find a mountain of dried pollen on my car.

Oh right, it’s that time of year.

 

♫Nose is always runny, I sneeze, eyes are itchy,

There’s Benadryl in my system already, mom’s spaghetti.♫

 

Spring is here.

Color has finally returned to the world! It’s been spring for a couple weeks, but I feel as if I only noticed a change today. It’s nice. I’m also sneezing a lot more. Not nice.

Spring is the season where the world wakes up from it’s winter slumber. The birds sing, the trees and flowers begin to bloom, everything is green and beautiful. It’s the season of growth and energy.

Spring not only is the season of growth, it’s the season of NEW.

New beginnings, new goals, new toys! Spring isn’t a season of reflection, it’s a season of ACTION! Make that change you’ve been desiring to make now! Everything else around you is changing, why not? You may be sneezing all over like a snot-helicopter, but there’s a new energy all around! Take this season as an opportunity to try something new.

Not sure what kind of new things to try? Here’s a few:

Listen to a different type of music.

Maybe you haven’t even found your favorite band yet. Maybe you’ll love Ska if you give it a real good chance. I’ve given Ska a real good chance.

I don’t like it.

Read a new author, maybe even a genre you aren’t familiar with.

I’m currently reading Princess Bride. It’s an adventure of high fantasy and true love. Keep it fresh with the books you read. You can always get something good out of a book, even if you don’t like it very much.

Basically, just do something you’re not super comfortable with.

How else do you grow if you don’t expand into new areas?

Thinking about doing new things, I’ve decided. I’m going to write a book. I’ve settled it. It’s happening. I’m starting now. Let’s do this. Spring is here, why not.

You know what else spring is about? Spring is about cleaning.

I think it’s about cleaning because there’s pollen from about a quadrillion flowers on my car, and on everything else in my life. I think back in the old days people got tired of trudging through molten pools of pollen, so they invented spring cleaning.

I’ve noticed a serious difference in my attitude and happiness when I have a clean environment. My car is a dumpster right now, though. I’ll update you on the quality of my life once I’ve spring cleaned it.

Spring is about change

There’s a bright light in the air, and an energy that only spring has. There’s something so special about the world we live in. It’s easy to ignore it when you’re busy, but the world has things to say if you listen.

Gosh, I sound like a hippy trying to convince you to become in tune with the rhythm energy of the world or something.

In every season there’s a change and a shift. Change is good in life. If you want to learn something from the seasons, maybe just learn that one small fact. Change is good. Sometimes the best thing you can do in your life is change it up just a little bit.

Try something new, clean your car, get a plant.

I’ve always wanted a desk cactus.

Like, here’s my desk cactus everybody. I only water it once a month. He’s so happy, look at him, all prickly and stuff.

Photo by Anisur Rahman on Unsplash