A significant difference between us.

There is only one significant difference between you and I.

I don’t have pride.

I don’t care how you respond.

I know your response is not about me. It’s not personal.

I’m going to ask. I’ve been rejected more times than I could count. I’m not worried about the rejection. I’m more interested in the answer.

The information I get from the answer.

But I know full well that, when you ask vulnerably, the door always opens. Information leaks out. The light that comes from the crack illuminates the path forward.

And, in the very rare chance that asking doesn’t open a door - I get to learn and get wiser through the experience.

I wish I was simple. I wish. But I am just not.

I have a real love for my cats. I look at their insane simplicity with awe, as I work through complex problems in my own personal and social life.

I wish I was like them.

This was why I really loved Lillie. I sincerely loved her simplicity. I really did. I thought it was perfect. I wanted to be more like it. I wanted to be inspired by it. I wanted to learn from her how to go for simpler, more attainable goals.

How to make my own home the only world I needed to understand.

No deep conversations about a potential outside of those walls. There was nothing out there. That was too much to think about. No matter the chaos in the world, no matter the wars being fought - Lillie had her bed, her cat and her shows - And so she had her sanctuary. Which was a beautiful place to be.

We just had one difference that would burn down even the highest walls.

I understood my potential as being without borders and I had to see how much of it I could actualize. This was not confined to a home, to my city, not even to my country. It was the entire world that I needed to understand.

Each and every day, I wake up with a fire inside of me, knowing that my dreams are possible if I continue on the path I have been on.

But holy shit, this path is messy.

There’s no gravel on it. It’s not even a straight line. And it’s fucking lonely and one that no one else even sees except me. To them, I’m trudging through an endless forest, lost in the bushes and covered in thorns. Running from an imaginary ghost.

They don’t see the tiny, dark and jumbled path I found in the thorns. They don’t see that I do know where I am going - I see the light and have for some time now - It just keeps moving as I get closer to it.

That light though, as I have come to realize, is the end of this path. The end of this grand adventure I have loved living.

So, for now, I just wish for the path to get a little wider.

Wide enough to let some more people join me on it. A partner. A wife. A family of my own. One that walks that line with me, with love and sanctuary, when the sun goes down and the brisk air hits. One that reminds me that love is already there and I do not need to do anything to earn it.

But they do not try to stand in the middle of the path. For they are on their own path and I get to help provide the same love and sanctuary for them, as they travel forward.

But somedays - I wish I never even saw the path. I wish I never even looked for it. My finish line could be my bed, my cats, my shows each and every day.

But I know about the path. I know about the light.

A micro perspective on why it's important to not take things personal.

Here’s a micro perspective on how so many people struggle on such simple levels with perceived confrontation.

Imagine you go to a restaurant for dinner. The server comes up to introduce themselves to you. Now, if your mind is busy, you’re distracted or have minimal practice with social environments, you probably will just order quickly to get the social component finished with. You shouldn’t but that’s another story.

Lets say you order an ice tea and ask for Splenda with it. The server brings the ice tea but forgets the Splenda. You are frustrated (because of other things in your life lacking control but this is an easy one to vent on) but you don’t do anything about it except be mad. Your server is extremely busy, running all over the place, and you just sit there steaming. When they finally come to get the order for food, you have given in to your immaturity and anger and don’t even ask for the Splenda anymore. You drank half your ice tea and it’s fine. Okay enough to not have to ask for what you need. You would rather just tip poorly, a weak way to resolve your frustrations and punish the server for something they didn’t even mean to do.

Now, let’s say your pasta comes out with red sauce instead of white like you ordered. This is a very easy fix, if you’re paying attention, because as soon as you see it, you can just tell the server the issue and they will gladly fix it. Remember, the server is there for you and wants nothing more than to give you a good experience. They are fully aware that a good experience leads to a good tip but many also are just good people and want to ensure you enjoy your food and hospitality. If you tell the server about the sauce issue, they’ll handle it immediately and sometimes even offer something on top as an apology.

But a lot of people just can’t communicate. So now they’re frustrated over pasta sauce, one of the dumbest things that could steal away the joy of the experience, and are now resolute to just leaving a bad tip. ‘This is a bad server.’ ‘They shouldn’t even be in the business.’ Gossip. Judgement.

What they might not see is that server might have had to put their dog down just the day before. Their best friend of the last 12 years, that they are still deeply saddened by and trying to process. If you would’ve genuinely asked in the beginning how they were doing, they would have likely told you this event and you could have empathized throughout the entire experience differently. You would have likely forgiven something as small as Splenda, in the face of such tragedy. You would have probably even given a bigger tip, as a small token of love for the pain they’re experiencing. Even more importantly, you probably could have related a personal tragedy you have gone through also and been able to humanize the entire situation.

But that takes time. And that takes patience. And people are busy. Busy doing nothing. Busy checking emails from spam folders. Busy scrolling through pictures they will never remember. Looking at newborn babies on Facebook of people they might not have spoken on the phone with in 10 years. 

So why not just ignore all of the information and live a cyclical life? That everything that goes wrongly is being done to you. That everything is personal. 

That makes it basic. And now, you can get back to your dopamine.

Do you complain? I might have a solution.

Do you complain?

I have a solution to that, though it might not be ideal because it takes more work than complaining and ignoring responsibility.

Pay attention. Go to a Denny’s and notice the dishwasher in the back, working under grueling conditions, covered in condiments and sweat. Have a conversation with that person and be genuinely curious about them and their life. You will likely notice they do not complain about their job (If they do, this is an easy thing to work around if you just talk about who they are outside of that job). 

They work in a demanding place with no natural light, get less credit than people in the front of the house get (you get tips and compliments as a direct reward for good service and hard work) and likely make the least out of everyone in that building. 

But they still show up to work, keep their head down and work their ass off.

Take a taxi ride in any big city. More often than not, your driver is going to be from a different country. Have a conversation with them about their work, about their life, about their families. Many times, they work every waking hour possible, in a faceless job, for people that are stressed and in a rush. They spend their literally entire lives, working a job that might lack fulfillment (though hopefully, not) and appreciation - Just so they can provide for their children. A lot of these people were born in extremely complicated countries, remembering times in their childhood of deep poverty and sometimes, war and death. The amount of sacrificial decisions and extremely hard work that had to perfectly come together to give them an opportunity to escape and provide for their families is beyond valiant.

And now, they sacrifice their time to help everyone in their families (and extended families) have a good life with the opportunity that was afforded to them. They are a martyr. They are a hero in their family.

When they talk about their families, this will almost always be a very positive subject. They will talk about their children and their wife with deep admiration. They will enjoy talking about those simple moments, clawed in the minutes in between jamming down food and going back to work early the next morning, where their children help them realize what they are sacrificing their life for. These people are heroes, at least in their own families, and should be revered as such. If you cannot look at a man or woman like that and be humbled and equalized, then perhaps it is time to realize that you only you can improve your perspective and quit being so immature.

Stay childlike. And how that can make your life go as smoothly as possible by being attentive.

I have always been a pretty strange guy. Wildly curious. Not knowing what the rules really are. Always curious. Always inquisitive. Always needing just a little more information than what was told to me.

I have never really meant anything by this but this does seem to frustrate people. Mainly the people that can’t really explain a certain rule or why it’s important.

I was never trying to annoy people - Well, the majority of the time at least - But to me, it was normal part of conversation to pull out a few more details to make a better educated decision. I usually tried to explain to them, as I was being fired or close to it, that this was only to help make me a better employee.

Faster. Smarter. More efficient.

This was almost always in the best interest of the job or the company.

However, especially with people in superior positions, this kind of mentality is not usually welcome. This is why I have been fired from every corporate job I have ever had.

I didn’t have a choice but to become self-employed. Entrepreneurial. Pursue creative direction and try to combine it with business. I was apparently the only person that wasn’t going to fire myself even though, there are many times when I annoy myself too.

I have always looked at the world with vivacious curiosity, seeing this game to be played and this realm of characters that could play a part in it. By interacting with the characters, I could build relationships and those people would in turn educate me through those conversations.

I’ll give an example:

I was a waiter in restaurants for 8 years. When I would get hired to a new restaurant, I would always try to make a genuine connection with the boss first. The owner of the restaurant. The GM of it. Whatever. I would get their respect and then meander from there.

Remember, it was all completely genuine. It really was and they knew that. But it also helps in every possible way.

If the owner of the restaurant liked me, I could starve off a few more complaints from the wait staff. The owner would give me give me a little extra credence if I made some mistakes and usually use our relationship to train and educate me, rather than just giving up. I would always move very quickly up the restaurant ladder because of this relationship too and I circumnavigated countless situations when I had NO experience in a certain department but was given the role because I could talk and exuded genuine confidence.

(I was given the lead/only bartender position at one of the most popular restaurants in St. Louis with absolutely no experience before. I was given my own bar, with hundreds of people to serve drinks that I didn’t know what the hell they were every single night. I was answering questions I didn’t know the answer to. It didn’t matter - I said it with confidence and everyone ate it up. The first time someone ordered a Manhattan, I thought there was Coca-Cola in it. I literally had no clue. Still, I was the lead bartender there for 4 months.)

From the owner of the restaurant, I would always make friendships with the kitchen. These were difficult ones because the front of the house and the back of the house were different worlds. From polished presentations to the gutter and grease. The kitchen was always busy doing something and there wasn’t a lot of time for candid conversation. These moments had to be clawed for, during a cigarette or while they’d chop onions, and they had to be brief. The kitchen usually isn’t a soft group, looking for existential conversations on the meaning of life. They were raw, blunt, non-emotional. They had been burned, literally and figuratively, overworked and underpaid. They were not in the kitchen to make friends with everybody - They were there to go to war with their platoon. And, almost never was the front of the house in their platoon with them. This took a lot of adapting and, again, a lot of pure authenticity to build those relationships.

Once the kitchen liked me, things flowed smoothly. They would forgive mistakes I would inevitably make, especially in the beginning, and re-fire plates with only one glare of death. They would take extra time to show me what’s in dishes, why they chose it and why it’s important. This information helped make me a lot more money with the guests because I was a lot better informed. Also, I learned how to cook myself during this process. I could ask for things and actually get a real response.

If the owner and the kitchen liked you, you have a pretty strong foundation. The manager is an extension of these two (as well as the front of the house) and usually saw it was in the best interest to make some sort of alliance with you. You separated yourself immediately as someone that was not just there to get his tips, waste it at the bar and try to fuck the new hostess. You were there to pay attention, work hard and do it strategically. This intelligence was noticed though it was a very precarious line you had to dance.

You never want to be the over-confident, arrogant guy. That will kill you from all these relationships in two seconds flat. That’s regarded as ego and everyone in the restaurant fucking hates ego, even if they have to deal with it from time to time.

Just be kind. Be real.

Now, of course, make great relationships with the front of the house too. The bartender will be every bit as valuable as the kitchen but this is a real relationship outside of that too. The bartenders have stories. Real stories. They’re masters at conversation and don’t have the luxury to be the bubbly, popcorn personality that many waiters to have to channel. Most bar regulars are there to drown the sorrows and burn. down the small talk. They’re not there to get a motivational speech, even though these are great from time to time, but there to feel just a little more tethered to the world through even a distant relationship.

Bartenders are loyal and no bullshit. These are great, genuine relationships.

The waiters are great also since you will be spending so much time with them. But there is always a bit of competition and rivalry to be had, at least in my perspective. You all are playing the same field, trying to make your tips and finish your side work. Regardless of a false rivalry, this is a crucial time to make an alliance though that alliance should always be paid attention to. The other waiters are likely playing a similar game, though their reasoning could be different.

But being a waiter is being your own king, in charge of your own domain, to make as much money with it as you can. The amount of money depends on your personality, your understanding of the food, your speed, your charm. Once you understand this, I think it’s easy for most people to construct a personality that works best for them. I don’t think this is a negative thing at all - I think it’s to be expected in such a weird space - But it is something to keep in mind. If they are that good at constructing a personality to fool a table and exploit it (though again, fool them in the right way), then they are likely masters of doing that in other realms of life too.

Because of this, a lot of waiters that I’ve met seem to be very solitary personalities, outside of the confines of that restaurant. Usually, the closest they let people get to them is with their restaurant family but, outside of that and in the real world, their charming outgoing personality usually ends. They’re cat people more than dog people. They smoke a lot of weed. They drink a lot. Usually alone or with their boyfriend/girlfriend.

(This is a random side note but maybe they are solitary personalities because, each and every night, they have countless conversations and get to know people. But, when they pay their check and say their goodbyes, they never see the majority of these people again. All of that emotional energy put into genuine conversations always lead to nowhere, except for the money they were hoping to make with that table.

This seems to transactionalize conversations and relationships and might damage the belief in people really being there for them, long term.)

Now, why is all this important?

Once all of these dynamics are understood, things make a lot more objective sense and you can just observe and adapt as you need to. People seem messy and complicated but they’re really not if you’re paying attention. They really aren’t.

People tell you EVERYTHING.

But usually they don’t tell you with pure words. They speak it with their response, with their eye contact, with their body language, with their inflection. They speak it with their reaction. They speak it with their actions.

These things are unmistakable and always correct. But, interpreting these things take time and patience and most people simply do not want to do that. They would rather take the face value of what is being told to them and accept it - Even though this leads to many things that damage peoples perception. If you’re truly paying attention to how something is being said, you can weed out the truth from the lies. This is essential. You need to know when people are telling you the genuine truth so that you can be closer to them and let them be closer to you. You MUST be able to tell when someone is telling a lie, or at least not telling purely the truth, so that you can protect yourself and, more importantly, protect your perspective on the overall quality of relationships.

People that are damaged by close relationships that lied to them are absolutely destroyed and, many times, it can follow them for the rest of their life. There’s 8+ billion people in the world but people live in very small bubbles of that world so their experiences largely dictate how they think the world operates.

To be naive and simply take things at face value opens up the possibility for you and your childlike wonder to be killed. Whether this is literal or figurative, this is very fucking real and not something to take lightly. Your reality is constantly being reconstructed through our neuroplasticity and it is essential that we keep our perception of reality pure.

I am not telling you to try to live a life of rainbows and kittens. I am not even telling you to try to avoid pain.

I am telling you to live your life as real as possible. Wake up and pay the fuck attention. Stop being naive. Stop being stupid. Educate yourself. Strengthen yourself. Get yourself in shape and do the things that make you feel fulfilled. Make no mistake, the world is a dangerous place and everyone is out there playing a single-player game.

But, if you’re paying attention, you’re strong enough to make reality a very rational and very beautiful place. People cannot lie to you so you can form real relationships based on the truth. Relationships built on the truth have real depth and you can share real information with them, as they will do to you, and you both get to grow and learn how to navigate the world. There is nothing more valuable and necessary to life than this.

Yes, the world is a dangerous place but you are strong enough to bend it in your favor. You can build alliances. Relationships. Partnerships. While everyone is asleep, you can be the first one awake to make that day your own. You rightfully view anger and braun as insecurity so you’re able to stay calm in the face of it. You’re not as reactive. You’re in shape so your mind is clear, your thoughts able to flow to an end when they need to. As well as a clear mind, your physical aptitude allows you real self-confidence because you had to suffer to get it. You will need this genuine self-confidence if you’re going to try to get what you want.

This confidence speaks to people immediately and tells them to listen to you. That you have something to say. And, if nothing else, it tells people to just get out of your way and let you do what you need to do.

It also gets people to open up to you because they trust you and tell you the truth.

So, whether in a restaurant or in the world, build real and genuine relationships. Tell them the truth. Be good to them and follow up with them when they share something significant. Make no mistake - A real relationship must have every action supporting it being viewed as genuine. It doesn’t take much to put a crack into relationships and they never fully recover from that crack.

It is only by being strong that you can truly be kind. That you can truly be compassionate.

Be yourself. Be strong. Pay attention. Be genuine. Be good to the world.

Some of my personal heroes.

Some of the people I am most inspired by are the ones that are already at the gym when I get there at 7am. They’re already drenched in sweat, intensity in their eyes, in their own world of dedication. They’re my hero’s. They’re the ones that inspire me the most in my mornings. 

Because you’ll never see all of the decisions and disciplines that went into place to make sure they’re there at that time. The personal battles they had to face to set their alarm for 6am, get out of bed and be there - for absolutely no reason. There was invitations they may have had to decline. TV shows they chose not to watch. Beers they didn’t drink. 

All of the hedonistic pleasures that were available to them. All to suffer first thing in the morning, for no one but themselves. 

How the hell did I end up with this beautiful life?

I am not really sure what is going on.

I’m 35 years old with so much life still ahead of me, but really feeling like I already have accomplished what I wanted to.

I started with absolutely nothing - from the bottom of the fringes that I could find to be in a life where, now, I have everything I could want. From homeless to a beautiful home that I wouldn’t trade for the world.

Everything except a wife and family of my own but even that, I know that will be there when I am ready to.

I really just feel like I understand it all. Maybe that’s true or maybe that’s ignorance - I don’t know yet. But I do know that that is not necessarily a good thing. Once you know so much, you now need to discipline and refine yourself down to actually make the most out of that knowledge. Use it. Or it just spins around your mind like blender, allowing some to get out but some to stay clumped on the edges, with all of its nutrients going to waste.

Maybe I just waste some of this potential because it is truly so wild to me. Why, the more I am myself and do what I want, the more things seem to fall into place. The better the relationships get. The world bends in my favor, every single day.

And I don’t know why. I’m really not sure why I deserve it.

People get out of my way and they listen to what I have to say when I really want to. In fact, they listen to it so much that they use that information to better themselves because of it. Which changes all of the people around them. 

So how about for that?

Use what you have to help the world get what they deserve. Enjoy the ride. Take time for yourself. But be kind to you, and to the world, along the way. Remember grandma saying when you were very young ‘Let the world in on what you have to say’.

And I know that. I know that I have something that will make the world a more beautiful place. Even if it’s burning down with pitchforks getting thrown, you don’t see that.

You really don’t. 

The universe has given you everything to use your gift to illuminate the world and enjoy the ride.

If nothing else, you have the money to take your dad out to lunch and spend real time with him, which has to be paradise on earth to me.

The mountains really are important. Grandeur and awe are essential, at least to humility if nothing else.

Theres something in your body that responds positively to being in the mountains. Even the darkest, most foreboding mountains can strangely make you feel like you’re right at home. You feel connected to it. You want to be in it and stay there, no matter how sore or dirty you get.

It feels more naturally to be there, than any city in the whole entire world.

A way to check in on yourself.

A really good way to check in on how you’re doing (rationally) is look at your physical shape.

Be honest with it.

How often do you go to the gym or exercise? How do you feel? How are you sleeping?

If you show me someone that is in very good shape, I will feel better about trusting their direction and usually assume that person has their life somewhat in shape. It just takes too many responsible decisions involving routine, work ethic, diet and focus to be in very good shape.

(And yes - There are always exceptions to any rule)

I think it goes all the way back to looking at the person who leads you into battle. Do you want someone out of shape? No - Because they likely are also not prepared, mentally, emotionally or physically, for the war that life can bring.

A very special weekend chasing down an errand for the devil. Conquering a fear. Burning even brighter as I did.

Early September.

I wake up on a normal morning and drink my coffee. Read my book. Ponder what spontaneity I can get myself into for the day. I plan on playing Pickleball so I get some natural energy going.

I’m playing really well. Focused. Energetic. I had a wedding consult in 45 minutes and had to soak up every bit of action before the call to have my clarity.

I make the call and the bride-to-be tells me her wedding is going to be in Leavenworth - Deep in the mountains in the Northwest. I immediately think of Index, a rock climbing Mecca in the rainforest, just an hour outside of that. I think about the camping under the trees, the via ferrata routes that’s are insanely exposed and dangerous, I think about the climbs to be had. Especially Cunning Stunt, the climb that nearly ripped my soul of out of my body with fear just a few months before. 

I really wanted this wedding now, to get paid a few thousand dollars to go and do what I would’ve happily done for free anyways. I could use an excuse to get out there in the fall time also. I offered her to cover the travel cost for free to incentivize her and she booked me.

I head out to Index a few days before the wedding with Daniel Lynch, a good guy and phenomenal climber. There’s very few people on the planet that I can spend a few days with on the rock and next to a fire with but Lynch has the conversational style that I appreciate so it makes it easy. He was simple and I liked that a lot. He just wanted to smoke his cigarettes, do his brutal climbs and challenge himself as much as possible. He exuded a quiet confidence and spoke of things that he was proud of, sharing a refreshing and vulnerable perspective on the hard work he’s put in.

I wish more people showed themselves this rational amount of respect.

By the time I get there, Lynch has already been there for a couple hours and already found the wall, and a climber named Long to belay him until I arrived. I ate an edible a couple hours previously that is still crushing me so I feel ready to climb and stir up some fear. They’re just coming down from a sand-bagged 11c, one that I could never do, let alone warm up on, but I give it a go and fail halfway through.

I come down, they work on another route and then Long tells me he wants me to get on Cunning Stunt while they take a break. I’m not ready for this climb yet. It’s been in my head for months now as a very real reminder of what hell must actually feel like. A symbolic fear lodged into my head as the one that almost took me out and made me question my entire existence up to that point. A fear that made me logically tell myself that ‘Maybe I can give up climbing for now. The fear is too much.’ 

As I am telling myself all of this, Lynch hands me the rope and all those thoughts drift away in the moment. Long enough to get my to stupidly tie the knot, attach the rope and feel the rock. 

The moment I touch that cold, black granite - I am transported back to a few months ago, when my life was so incredibly different. The last time I felt that rock and looked up at this climb, I was stuck in a perilous situation with love. I was in a relationship with a very sweet girl, someone I loved, but logically and clearly knew that we were just not a long term match. I had been toiling on the decision of breaking up with her for months now, many months, and it had locked me into a holding pattern where my soul continued to slowly die. I kept choosing to ignore the inevitable for just one more night of falling asleep next to her. One more kiss. One more adventure with her. With each one though, my mind reminded me mercilessly that I was simply putting off what had to be done. When I did this climb last, the soul-draining fear woke me up and reminded me that I might be able to embrace the pain of that breakup and survive it. That maybe, there was enough in me to do the right thing, cry my way through the hurt and come out, someday, in the light on the other side. I came back from that climb awakened and ready to embrace something I had put off for far too long at that point. 

We broke up. I immediately knew it was the right thing. I cried but somehow, came through on the other side without a single ounce of regret. 

So now, to be back at that wall and feel that rock, I was reminded of the growth that has happened since. I was here now to finish it. Finish the climb that woke up and reminded me that so much of fear is merely a mirage. I worked my way up the wall like a dance, remembering every move it took to get to the crux and prepare to go into hell for a minute. 

When I got to the crux, it was like seeing an old lover. One that was brutally toxic and had badly damaged you but, when you looked into their eyes again and smelled their perfume, you only remembered the easy parts of it. I felt the holds and knew what I had to do. I vividly remembered that, once I moved my foot up to the next step, that there was no coming back without falling. It was a clear, crucial commitment to following it through to the end, to somehow getting that bolt clipped in while vulnerably hanging over the abyss. I remembered that the bolt was sketchy to be able to clip, which is why I wasn’t able to get it last time. It required you to walk your way up a flake that had no feet to use at all, hang out 100+ feet over the valley, get one hand on the bolt and then - the most terrifying part of all - somehow pull the rope up to get it through that sketchy bolt as you hung. If you were to fall during that clip in, with the rope strung out, it was a big one. One that surely was magnified significantly in the deep fears I had associated with the climb. The fall would have likely been 20-30 feet but, in my mind, it was a fall to a certain agonizing death. I just could not afford to do it, in my mind, if I wanted to live.

I got myself up to the step. I committed myself and moved quickly. I got to the flake and walked my hands up it, auto-piloting it as I overdosed on adrenaline. The world shut off in blackness and there was no noise. No birds. Not even sunshine other than the light I needed to see the next hold. I got to the spot that I had dreaded for so long - The one where I had to look up at this piece of shit bolt and commit myself even further, just at the hopes at somehow getting out of this alive. Still, at this point, I didn’t plan on actually finishing it. I couldn’t even conceive that. But, as I looked at the bolt, I wondered if I could just touch it. I did and then quickly told myself that, if I could touch it, I could likely get the draw in it, which I tried next. The draw went in and I breathed for a moment. Then, I knew that, if I could get the draw in, I could likely get the rope in and somehow claw my way out of this quickly approaching abyss. Stupidly, I just went for it. I pulled the rope through, knowing full well that there was no turning back anymore. I had fucked up and gotten myself so committed that this was either only going to be glory or death - There was no safe route left anymore. No one could rescue me.

The rope touched the draw but I was panicking far too much to get it in. It’s funny how, the worse you need to get a clip in, the worse you usually do with actually getting it to clip. Your hands are shaking with adrenaline. You know exactly how fucked and exposed you are. So you fuck it up if you can’t calm down.

I drop the rope, further cementing that this is likely not going to turn out well. I could always down climb to the last bolt, I lied to myself, as I knew I didn’t even have the strength to do that. My muscles were starting to give in, my strength melting away as I put 100% into just holding myself onto the wall. Soon, the adrenaline would run dry and I would slip off the rock, into hell, as I tumbled down that rock.

I couldn’t do that. I was just too terrified to.

I picked up the rope again and tried to breathe just to get it done. It was a messy process, holding myself on the rock with one hand as I fumbled and panicked with the other. I tried again and couldn’t get it. The bit the rope with my teeth, feeling like a Vietnam vet that had been shot in the leg and was trying to offset the agony, and tried to put it up one more time. I only had the strength for one more attempt, literally, and didn’t feel very optimistic with it because of how the rest had gone. 

I got it against the gate and all I had to do was push it through. I did somehow. It clicked. Holy shit. I was safe. I was going to survive this hell. I truly never thought I was going to feel that feeling.

I asked Daniel to take for a moment so I could stand there and breathe for the first time in minutes. The second he did, and I was able to let go of that wall, I started crying immediately. A release from an overwhelming tidal wave of emotion. One that lasted less than a minute but could’ve filled three lifetimes with it’s power.

I finished the route and came down. I sat there and stared at the wall for an hour, as Daniel and Long projected on a difficult climb next to it. I was numb and in a bit of disbelief that it had happened - But that was buttressed among a strong feeling of contentment. I can’t believe I had done it. It was symbolic of where my life was.

We camped for the next couple nights and climbed everything we could. Lynch didn’t even care about eating - He would jam some granola into his mouth when he had a fleeting moment in between climbs. We were there to climb everything we could and make sure we left with no regrets. With no energy left in our bodies. Guaranteeing that, at the end, we would drink the best beer of our life, knowing we had done it.

Lynch had to leave the next night to drive back to Coeur d’ Alene. The crazy fuck had a training class to teach at 9 a.m. and now, it was 9 p.m. and he still had a 5-hour drive ahead. Through the mountains, in the night time. Regardless, he sat as long as he could to enjoy one more beer and one more crazy conversation with climbers before setting back off to the real world.

I smoked a joint and sat by the fire before crashing for the night. I woke up rested and peaceful, dirt under my fingernails and BO that I didn’t even notice anymore, and deconstructed my tent to head back to the real world myself. Today, I had an engagement session with my good friend Weston and his girl Carly and then a wedding at 3 p.m. I badly needed a shower but I was worried I had dirt bagged it too long that asking to cleanse my dirt in their bathroom was not fair, even to the kindest of hearts. Thankfully, Weston offered me instead and I gladly accepted, having that shower not just wash off the dirt but also bring me back into a light sense of normalcy that I would need for the rest of the day. 

I came out of the shower and now, was glad to hug Weston and Carly and meet her friend Amber, who had flown up to spend some time with her. 

It was 11 in the morning but they were nervous to get their photographs taken so they took some shots to quiet off the inhibitions. A little more delaying. A couple more checks in the mirror. A couple more thoughts about their clothes and hats. Then we were off.

As always, I don’t plan anything out with the shoots so we aimlessly wandered through the streets of Leavenworth, a beautiful German town that was alive with drinking and singing already. We found moment after moment, much to Carleys dismay, where I would set up beautiful pictures around the unsuspecting strangers in the town. In one scene, we passed a plant store that had a claw foot bathtub right in the entrance. I knew I wanted to put them in the tub for a gorgeous picture so I asked the employee that worked there and she agreed. They sat on thin cardboard, in a bathtub filled with dirt, and shined with pure love, as the spontaneous moment was just too strange to be able to overthink it. 

We photographed in a park. On a bridge. Lively conversation throughout. And then I had to go to my wedding.

I drove through the mountains and got lost on a back road, having my GPS take me to the wrong address. I called the bride and she didn’t answer. I was late and all I could do was sit there and wait. Finally, a lady came out of one of the mountain homes and told me where to go - Getting me there just 10 minutes behind.

I met everybody, including Alisha, the beautiful bride for the day, and we were off. I got to know everybody personally, learn their names and stories, and the genuine emotion just poured out as we all became comfortable with one another. The lighting was just too good and lent itself to a dramatic, striking setting for the bride to put on her wedding dress, with her mom tearing up as she finished the final buttons on the back. Within minutes of first saying hello, they handed me $10k rings and jewelry and blindly trusted a stranger as I took them outside to photograph them in the nature. That’s how quickly genuine trust can be earned, or destroyed. Allow people to feel it deeply just based on your personality, your eye contact, your heart.

We finished at their home and went to a park I suggested, though barely knew, for the first look. Douglas, the groom, called me and pleaded with me to pick a different spot. It was too dusty and barren he said. ‘I don’t care - You just have to trust me’ was my blunt response, knowing that we didn’t have the luxury of time to ponder on if there was a better spot. They did trust me and as I walked towards the dusty bowl, really not knowing how this was going to turn out, I noticed a small meadow to the left with a trail that cut through it. That was our salvation. That was our Shangri La.

The photographs were gorgeous, with the sun coming through the pines and shining on the golden, tall grass. The groom cried as the bride wrapped around his back, holding her hands as the tension built up. He turned around to see her and the whole world shut off again - It was just them two, in a moment they had anticipated for a long time, and I was just a fly on the wall to show them what it looked like. I took some beautiful shots and then left them to themselves to make out and be passionate before coming back into the group.

We headed to the wedding and got there with a quickly fading sunlight. A very real time clock that kept us accountable to our itinerary, knowing that there was no way we could get these big family photos without it. We got the shots. The ceremony was gorgeous. I had a deep, philosophical conversation with the pastor minutes before Alisha walked down the aisle. I snuck big glasses of red wine from the bartender named Hannah. I saw a black gentleman holding his newborn baby, sitting in a corner by himself, and got a gorgeous shot of him glowing on his baby with admiration. The music started and never stopped, except for the quick speeches, which were lively with a lot of audience participation. I ate everything that came close to me. Stuffed meatballs from the waiters with black ties. Salmon with ginger and cucumbers. A never ending charcuterie board. More red wine. More laughter. More candid photographs.

Did I mention I get paid a lot of money to do this? I have no idea why but I am grateful. 

The reception kicked off with Abba, telling us all quickly how energetic this night was going to be. The whole wedding sung every word, with the DJ sometimes turning the music down so we could belt out the best parts of the song. There was as much energy in that one room that there is in a football stadium, packed with 100,000 fans. I was floating. Guests begged me to put the camera down and just dance with them. I kept my camera on but danced regardless, bouncing throughout the room to notice every moment I could.

My time ended with them and I danced for another 30 minutes, making sure the night dragged on as long as I could make it. Another glass of red wine. One more song. Okay, one more song after that.

When I finally left, I said goodbye to the bride and groom, who already felt like we were long time friends. We hugged, we both shared a lot of appreciation and I was off. Walking back to my car, under the blinding Milky Way above me, surrounded by the dark, ominous mountains that make me feel right at home. 

I just couldn’t fucking believe that this is my job. I would have done all of this for free (or just for the red wine, at least).

-

Fuck that. I booked a room in Leavenworth. I wasn’t ready to leave, just yet, and go back to reality.

I've broken a lot of rules but...

Ive broken a lot of rules in my life. And still continue to do so. But the most important one I broke, the most important of all, was the one that told me I had to live a normal life. That I had to have a routine. A career. A white picket fence.

I never believed that rule.

Why I stepped away from all social media.

This is a personal decision (obviously). I am not judging what anyone else does with their time - To be honest, I don’t have the time or desire to do that. I have enough things I am trying to figure out in my own life right now.

Second, I have deleted all social media off of my phone (which I barely used as it was). I will still keep Facebook on my home computer for the time-being because I enjoy using it for long writing and sharing photographs. I just will not being checking it every day.

I have always thought Instagram was really boring but holy shit, TikTok was way too good. It became the perfect distraction anytime I hit a hard moment. Between TikTok, checking emails, responding to text messages, etc. - I barely had any time left in my day and, with that time, my mind was not clear. It was clouded with all this dopamine and stimulus I had been jamming into it throughout the day. I had even started to check my phone in bed - Which made my sleep worse - Which is a very dangerous thing to do with mental health. When my sleep quality declined, things started to fall with it and I knew I had to do something right away. When I was checking my phone a lot, my entire life went on auto-pilot all the time. At a red light? Respond to some text messages. Having a cup of coffee? Watch TikTok for an hour. About to go to bed? Check emails one more time.

I stopped writing entirely when I was like this. I didn’t have the clarity and did not have the patience to do anything. Everything was instant gratification. I was high on these drugs of dopamine and stimulus and, like all addictions, things started to get damaged in my life. I started to rush conversations more. I started to forget to check on others when I hadn’t heard from them in a while. I felt like my life was automated and I absolutely hated it - Even though, I didn’t want to stop taking the drugs and do what it took to get my attention back. 

One other really important thing happened. 

When I was born, I was born with a hole in my heart. It’s actually pretty common and I had a mitral valve prolapse and heart murmur from it. We watched it closely when I was a child but, when I was around 12-13 years old, my cardiologist told me ‘This heart issue is not going to be a problem. Go out and live a normal life with it and don’t worry about it.’

Fast forward 20 years later and, last month, I went to see my general doctor. She was asking some questions and randomly asked me ‘When was the last time you got an echocardiogram?’ 

I told her how my doctor had said not to worry about my heart so it had been over 20 years since I had. She quietly said ‘Maybe you should get one just because it’s been so long.’ 

I am self-employed (though have health insurance) so I juggled around if it was worth the high cost of getting one done. I finally decided it was and went to get it checked out. About a week later, the doctor called me and said ‘Your heart has gotten worse. You have mitral valve regurgitation and it is going to require surgery on your heart soon. If you don’t get the surgery, your heart will keep expanding and lead to heart failure.’

(Not to worry anyone - I have already gotten two opinions from some of the best cardiologists in the country. We are scheduling the surgery to be in the next 12-months - It’s a very low risk surgery and, if all goes well, my heart will be completely fine afterwards. It’s only a 7-day recovery time also)

This was a big wake up call to me. I have a beautiful life and have always lived it to the fullest in every way I could. I have been reminded a few times that I am not invincible but this was a slap-in-the-face reminder that life can be short. I looked at my phone and saw that my screen time was about 3 hours a day and decided that was insane. That means, in just 7 days, I was spending almost an ENTIRE DAY using my phone. I didn’t want to do that anymore. I wanted to do the hard work - Fight to salvage my clarity - And go back to being the person I loved being before all of this technology.

Because I really like who I was before all of this complexity in life. I used to get in my car and literally drive until I ran out of gas and had no money left. I would spend weeks in beautiful parks with no agenda, would camp on beaches in Mexico with no rush, would immerse myself in towns and fall in love with communities of people that would let me dance in their shoes for a minute. I would listen to my favorite songs with my sunroof open, under the blinding bright Milky Way, and drive through the mountains. No one knew where I was. I had no phone. No laptop. Absolutely nothing mattered other than that one moment I was in there. There was no other part of the world because I had nothing that could steal my attention and take me somewhere else.

While I am sure I had moments, I don’t remember ever having trouble sleeping. I don’t remember moments of depression, where I felt like I wasn’t doing enough or felt like I had to be somewhere else. I

So, I will continue to write to share some of the things that led me to this point now. But again, this is a personal decision and something I have wanted to do for quite some time. And I really do hope to inspire others to reevaluate their routines and the ‘insanely busy’ lifestyle so many people force themselves into these days. I hope to inspire people to step back for long enough to remember where they’re heading - And make sure that’s where they want to be. I hope I inspire just one person to write a little bit more, draw a little more intimately, have a longer conversation with no rushing at all and just dream a little bit bigger than technology allows us to.  

I hope to show you all just what you can do if you fight to save the precious time we all have available to us. That every minute we can save really does matter. That clarity really is crucial towards a balanced life. That imagination is one of the purest ways we can all step back from the real world and make every day feel like it’s just a dream.

Love you all.

Being successful is as easy as finding yourself.

Step one - Grow up. Swallow your pride. Work really fucking hard.

Step two - Write a book that no one will ever read. Write in it every single day.

Step three - Take care of your physical and mental health ruthlessly. Kill anything and anyone that threatens it. Go to the fucking gym. But not to be ripped and pick up girls. To develop true self confidence and discipline. This is absolutely essential and you cannot conquer dreams without this.

Step four - Find peace with dying. Then let go of the wheel.

Step five - Spend as much time as you can by yourself. Learn to love who you are. 

Step six - Fail mercilessly. Fail as often as you can. In that process, stop giving a fuck.

Step seven - Make rejection your truest and most sincere friend. Learn to love it’s honesty more than any person could ever give you.

It's Beautiful Out There.

What a wonderful world we live in.

No Plans. Just Searching For Beauty.

You will be simply amazed at the things you see when you explore without plans. When you allow all of the moments that happen by random chance, you will see the world from a much grander perspective.

Paying Attention While Traveling.

When you travel, you are truly awake and vividly paying attention to everything that is around you. Your mind is completely open and your eyes just survey the foreign landscapes with intense curiosity of what you might see around every new corner.

There is no stronger feeling of being alive, in my opinion, and it's what we are meant to do while we have the health and freedom to do so.

This One Photograph Sums Up This Entire Trip.

This one photograph sums up the meaning of this trip.

Never Stop Educating Yourself.

It does not matter how much you have, you can always educate yourself. You can always better yourself.

Pay Attention.

Happiness is relative.

How I Ended Up In Carnivale.

One of my favorite stories so far.

While leaving Budapest, I had planned to go to Ljubljana, Slovenia and spend some time in a place I knew nothing about. I was running out of my hostel to make the train and miraculously ran into a friend just outside (thank you!) who asked me where I was headed. When I told him, he informed me I was headed to the wrong train station. He quickly told me where to go, I hopped on several trams to get there quickly but I still ended up missing the train by 7 minutes.

As I sat there for a second, I saw there was a train going to Wien, Austria. I hopped on it and got out there to see where other trains were going. I found one going to Ljubljana so I hopped on that one. But, after an hour or two, I noticed on the screen in the train that it was ending in Venice, Italy. I was desperate for some warmer climates so I decided to just stay on.

I booked a hostel on the way and showed up later at night, only to realize my hostel was on an island that you could only get to by boat (I knew very little about Venice at this point!). I spent the night on the mainland then took a boat to this island the next day to stay at one of the most beautiful hostels of this trip.

The next day, I noticed the prices went up significantly. When I asked why, I was told I had arrived at the beginning of one of the largest Carnival celebrations in the world. A dream situation for candid photographs.

I ended up spending 4 nights there, meeting friends that will surely always be in my life (Miss ya!) and getting some of my best photographs of the trip.

These things only happen when I throw myself into pure spontaneous travel. It sounds cliche but I really do always end up where I am supposed to be.

(P.S. There's only one way to start Carnival and that's with a nice dip in 45 degree water!)