Huck Finn Wisdom

Well, it happened again. I have procrastinated. I didn’t stop writing all together but, I succumbed to my inner voice and second-guessed my abilities. Then, I decided against being creative for fear of what others might think. But, I’m here once again and i’m ready to ramble. I just reread The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and fell back in love with Mark twain’s ability to describe exactly how we as human beings think in the most simplistic yet detailed way. He sums up my feelings lately here:

“But that’s always the way; it don’t make no difference whether you do right or wrong, a person’s conscience ain’t got no sense, and just goes for him anyway. If I had a yaller dog that didn’t know no more than a person’s conscience does I would pison him. It takes up more room than all the rest of a person’s insides, and yet ain’t no good, nohow. Tom Sayer He says the same.”

Such an honest look at the games we play in our heads. I play this constant game with my conscience that I’m sure many others deal with as well. Also, I’ve learned that many people don’t. I’ve written about this before but a few years ago I read an article about a study that details how some people don’t have that '“inner dialogue” that narrates their daily lives and helps to reason and make sense of the world. This was fascinating to me because I can’t think of life in any other way. And I wonder if these people are witheld from a certain level of fear, anxiety, happiness, and love. Or, are those feelings just different to them? That’s a thought for another time.

So, I was rereading this book, doing a 14-day Stoic journey course, attempting to grow my business, and generally feeling productive. I felt as though I had a renewed sense of hope for the future. Until, things fell apart, seemingly all at once. I received news of a friend’s illness, my business had a setback, my career aspirations seemed fruitless, the world was crumbling, and I felt rundown. In an instant I was back in that hole that I continually dig for myself. I always forget to prepare myself for adversity or at least I never see it coming.

There was an NPR podcast I listened to that quoted Zen master Shunryo Suzuki who said, “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the experts there are few.” I think this quote can be interpreted as both pessimistic and optimistic. The former, in which we are naive at the beginning and feel that anything is possible only to be hurt when we realise that the world can be a cruel place that can hold you back from your full potential. I’m a realist but I prefer the latter better in that we must constantly think like a beginner at all of life’s wonders and possibilities because once we think we have mastered something, we fail to see anything more than what we think we already know. You might have to read that twice.

We should all strive to see life more often from a “beginner’s” eyes because then we will understand that there are many ways in which life can play out. It’s easy to settle for one way and it’s easy to feel sorry for yourself, but sometimes you need to go back to basics in order to see the bigger picture, outside of yourself. One of the most wonderful passages in Meditations is where Marcus Aurelius looks at his own troubles with worry and fear. “Today, I escaped my anxiety,” he writes, “or rather, I discarded it, for it is within me.” It’s a beginners way of looking at the things that distract us and it opens our minds to all of life’s possibilities.

A New Year

2023. Happy new year. It only took me 5 months and 5 days of procrastination to come back to this. I’ve been staring at my All Pints Considered bookmark on my bookmark bar every day since and then sheepishly switching to Youtube or back down to my phone mindlessly scrolling Instagram. It all comes into perspective when you put a timestamp on it. But, I’m here now. I’ve built up enough strength and determination to put words on screen. I’ve taken the first step! So, let’s get into it.

Yesterday, I rode my bike into town to return a coat I bought in early December from Penneys off of O’Connell Street, hoping it was still returnable. Luckily, unbeknownst to me, they extended their return policy for Christmas and I got my €30 back. Next, I rode over to the AIB on Capel Street to deposit a larger sum of cash which then proceeded to get eaten by the machine. This prompted me to have to fill out an incident form and wait until Monday wherein I was told I might receive the money in my account. Unfazed, I walked down the street and strolled through the Turkish shop looking for nothing in particular. I often meander through shops thinking of all the things I would buy if I wanted to and to get a bit of creative motivation. Feeling gluttonous I cycled over to Di Fontaines for a big New York slice of pepperoni with jalapeños. But, while locking up my bike a used copy of a Farside book in the Oxfam window caught my eye and drew me in to have a look. I scoffed at the price, €8, but the woman assured me that if I scanned the barcode I would surely find it for more than that. It was a collector’s item, after all. I entertained her, and bought the Farside book along with a book of short-story fiction called “The Decameron Project.” The total being over €10 entitled me to a free pair of sunglasses, which she graciously offered to become my personal stylist to pick out the pair that suited me best. Two books and a pair of sunglasses later I found myself enjoying my pizza while listening to the book “The More of Less” Finding the Life You Want Under Everything You Own. I was trying out the whole Blinkist phenomenon. Not sure if I’m a fan. I decided to ride over to another, better AIB branch to get some of my other affairs in order before finally stopping at the Asian Market to get probably the most integral item of my journey, Lao Gan Ma crispy chilli oil. My crack, if you will. With my little Osprey daypack full to the brim, I cycled home.

This is a menial but magical journey I would’ve maybe taken for granted over 3 years earlier. Things like riding my bike anywhere I wanted to, shopping in stores, browsing charity shops, eating indoors, and shaking someone’s hand. The basics of being that just stopped for more than 2 years. I don’t want to dwell on it too much but it’s definitely good for me to think about it deeply on an infrequent level, in order to jump-start that “don’t wait” procrastinating attitude.

The book I bought, “The Decameron Project: 29 Stories from the Pandemic” plays off of a book by the same title (“The Decameron”) written in the 14th century by 10 young people quarantined from the black plague in Florence, Italy. In the Introduction Rivka Galchen does a good job of setting the scene and explains the lessons learned by those young people nearly 700 years earlier:

“… having laughed and cried and imagined new rules for living altogether, they were then able to finally see the present, and think of the future. The novelle of their days away made the novelle of their world, at least briefly, vivid again.”

It’s a testament to how powerful and resilient we are as humans if we choose to be. But, it shouldn’t take a plague or pandemic to push us to be creative. It’s something we should discover, new, each and every day. Galchen goes on to finish the Introduction with a little stoic wisdom that I very much appreciated:

“Memento mori - remember that you must die - is a worthy and necessary message for ordinary times when you might forget. Memento vivere - remember that you must live - is the message of The Decameron.”

After reading “The Decameron Project” I am definitely going to read its predecessor “The Decameron” to remind myself that I must continue to create when times feel tough or monotonous. After all, we don’t need a large catastrophic life event to become resilient but it sure does help us appreciate the lives we live under ordinary circumstances. Wake up each day, if you are fortunate enough to do so, and find that zest for life but, let death’s ominous shadow follow you, pushing you to live every day to its fullest potential.

Sharing is Caring

Who cares!? Well, I do but, not as deeply when it’s something that is unworthy of taking a place in my mind. I’ve said it before that when I learned to ‘not sweat the small stuff,’ life got a little bit sweeter. I am now at a point where I get so turned off when someone else gets so caught up in something so trivial. It honestly eats away at me watching from the outside.

I think oftentimes we forget that we are able to pick and choose what we put our effort into. We blindly let our sentiments get the best of us and this brings us down a rabbit hole of unnecessary emotional effort and wasted time. Two lines I recently read in a medium story perfectly sum up how to combat this from a stoic point of view:

Acting Independently of other people’s opinions is one of the basic tenets of stoicism.

To achieve the good life, what we need to do is conform to what is virtuous and not to what others think.

We get caught up. Reading back to the first paragraph I can see that I am still caught up in telling you that some things that others do or think still eats away at me. The fact that I can realize it, point it out, and then work it out is the breakthrough. I just want everyone else to realize it too. I’m not one to impose my beliefs on any person but instead, I share what’s helped me and hear their feedback to make for a meaningful and educational conversation.

The fact is though, that we are going to interact with those individuals who don’t care about anything at all; Good, bad, emotional, or meaningless. Those who don’t put any effort or all of their effort into anything that presents itself to them. I envy and also deplore these people at the same time. This school of thinking (absurdist or nihilist maybe?) has always intrigued me and I think I have much more to learn about it from a psychological standpoint.

Most people understand that we must coexist with individuals whose beliefs differ from our own. Not everyone understands we must tolerate and except those people as well. It’s so easy and so difficult at the same time because we all value our own opinions so much.

For today and hopefully every day I will continue to put my emotional effort into the things that I deem worthy. But, at the same time, I need to try to understand that what’s important to me might not be as important to the person I’m engaging with. I need to continue on my stoic journey but simultaneously be genuinely sensitive to those who don’t prescribe to that same journey.

Ups and Downs

I was just writing in my journal that I hadn’t written in a while. I almost always start like that. I apologise to myself for my own procrastination. But, it’s good to acknowledge it and remind myself when procrastination takes over. It allows me to get out of it knowing that by writing in the first place I am well on my way to becoming productive again. I recently came across a quote from Rumi, a 13th-century Persian poet: “Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.”

I oftentimes get so caught up with thinking too far into the future about hypothetical situations and events that are undoubtedly out of my control. Yet, they play over and over in my mind as if I will surely live them. I know that I should focus on the things I can change and live in the moment, yet my mind continues to wander. It’s a neverending cat and mouse game I play with myself. My spirits are up when I get the good news and the future looks bright ahead and they’re down when I get the bad news and the hereafter looks grim. As I continue to accept that I should focus on the “here and now” and on improving myself, the rest should follow.

Rather timely, I just received the Daily Stoic newsletter from Ryan Holiday and today’s advice is that “It’s Ok to Stumble.” He goes on to quote Marcus Aurelius:

“When jarred, unavoidably, by circumstance, revert at once to yourself, and don’t lose the rhythm more than you can help. You’ll have a better grasp of the harmony if you keep on going back to it.

It’s the same message that has stood the test of time because, it’s proven. We create these crazy non-existent scenarios that live outside of ourselves when all we have to do is look within. Only then can we recognize peace and refocus on the journey ahead in order to deal with life’s ups and downs.

A Good Idea

“Sometimes you need to come up with and then try one idea to get to the real idea” is what Guy Raz explains in an NPR episode of How I Built This. He touches on how many successful entrepreneurial endeavours start in one place but end somewhere totally different.

How true that statement is. Upon finishing a Creative and Cultural Entrepreneurship Post Grad Certificate at Trinity College this year I started pursuing an idea. The idea was to build an Electronic Medical Record plug-in that extracts clinical data to recommend clinical trials to the people who might need them most. Great idea, isn’t it?… I found out that most of the world’s top companies already have a stake in this idea and further, use AI and Blockchain technology to fine-tune and secure it. I thought it better not to dance with the professionals but instead pivot.

Keeping that idea still close to my heart I looked to solve another solution, this time locally. I saw that scheduling doctor visits online as well as purchasing discounted medicine for delivery were almost non-existent in Ireland. This has much to do with regulation but, I don’t want to dive into that. I also threw in a private insurance aggregator proponent. Thus, SupDoc.ie was born. I registered the business, launched the website too early, and began the data entry… for a few weeks. After entering and failing multiple investment competitions, accelerators, and continuously doubting myself, I have hit a roadblock. I am financially and mentally stuck with where to go next.

Well, the only option is to find a job. You know, to pay the bills. I am still convinced I have something important to bring to the world and know that negative feedback can knock me down a bit but I have perseverance. Things will ebb and flow as they have and I will bob and weave along with it. It’s exciting and frustrating all at the same time. I’ve found that an important part of the ideation and implementation process is talking about your idea and processes. Not only to get feedback but to get new ideas as well as some emotional support. You’ll go crazy otherwise.

I’m not against utilising my past experience and skills to work for a company in a position that I may love. I just thought this time it would be different and I would be creating that position within my own company. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not the end. I just need to continue the search for the “real idea” and anyone is welcome to join me.

The Night I Met Rick Steves

I grew up without cable television so public access TV has always been a big part of my life. I was being primed by Sesame Street, Arthur, One Saturday Morning, the Price is Right, Sally, Judge Judy, Jerry Springer and Wild Chicago while almost everyone else was flipping on their black cable boxes to watch Nickelodeon, Cartoon Network, and HBO. I remember the first time I went over to my best friends house across the street and realised he had cartoons on TV… at night! That blew my mind. It was ok though because I loved my Chicago public access channels and endlessly flipping through the cycle 2, 5, 7, 9, 11, 20, 26, 38, etc. until I found something worth watching. Also, I still had access to those cable shows across the street whenever I needed the stimulation. But, there was always one show on WTTW channel 11 that, just like their slogan, was a “Window To The World” for me. That show was Rick Steves Europe.

For those of you who don’t know, Rick Steves, as I knew him, was a middle-aged nerdy white guy from the US who travelled around Europe befriending locals while teaching you everything you needed to know about history, culture, and travel tips for every destination he went to. Other than school textbooks, stories of people travelling out of the country, and my Irish grandparents this was my first exposure to the outside world and where my fascination with travelling began. There was a real calming effect that Rick’s show had on me. The way he always had a little smile on his face and how he spoke directly to you, the viewer. All of his advice and examples would fit perfectly foreseeable problems the American tourist might have. Think, always wear a money belt, it’s better to buy a day public transit pass than single-use, and don’t get scammed. I found all of this exhilarating and comforting at the same time. I remember slowly drifting off to sleep while Rick Steve’s Europe played in the background sending me into dreams of far off places and adventures. This is when I knew I would have to one day meet the man that I now credit majorly with my get up and do it attitude.

Fast forward over a decade and many travel adventures to different parts of the world later as I found myself working for a cable television network back in Chicago. Since studying abroad in Italy and then graduating college a few years earlier, life was back to “normal.” I was going through the motions. That is until a coworker of mine got wind of my completely platonic infatuation with Rick Steves. She proceeded to surprise me a few weeks later with a post-work field trip to the PBS WTTW channel 11 studios in Albany Park near where I grew up. She had a friend working there and would later move on to work there herself. I would not only be visiting the studios where Rick Steve’s Europe was produced; I would be meeting the man himself. To think that all of those years had passed and I had no idea that Rick Steves was often so close to me… I was stunned with excitement.

The caveat was that I had to volunteer to answer phones for the telethon for a few hours before I got to meet him. You see, the Public Broadcasting Service is fully funded by private large donors and “viewers like you,” the public. After each episode, Rick would come on screen live and ask for donations to continue to support his show as well as all of the other informational and educational shows on the network. I was finally one of those volunteers answering phones in the background that I saw for so many years. The night was long and uneventful until we were finally off air. My coworker grabbed me and led me to where Rick was speaking with producers and getting ready to leave. He turned around and I froze up. I just said “hello” and let my coworker do all of the talking. Then I mustered up enough courage to ask for a picture and a coveted signature on one of his pamphlets. I then turned to him ready to share all of my memories of watching him on TV as a kid and nothing came out. He gave me a friendly “nice to meet you” and turned back around. I looked at my coworker and we began our journey to the exit.

Even though I didn’t get to have a full-blown conversation with one of my childhood idols, I did get to see him in person. That was proof that he existed and that everything that I had seen him do really happened. I truly felt like a kid again. I had a newfound sense of wonderment and motivation. That stayed with me for the next year or so as I went on wild adventures across the US, Canada, the UAE, Dominican Republic and Japan before making the decision to move to Ireland in October of 2016. And here I am now living a life that I only imagined as a kid. Not filled with riches and material goods but lasting memories and endless adventure. Nothing will stop me.

I’ll leave you with the simple but resounding words of Rick Steves, “Keep on travelin’.”

Found Notebook Entry - November 29, 2012

Below is a journal entry I found in a random notebook filled with ideas, inventions, comedy skits, and lists. I posted this on Instagram almost a month ago and forget to reflect on it here because life took hold of me. Here is the journal entry from November 29, 2012:

“I really need to start doing something different. Something I love. I have let too many opportunities slip through my fingers. Get off your ass and do something. Make yourself useful. Make your time useful. Move away. Move out of your comfort zone. Meet new people. Learn new things. Life is short and is only what you make it. It starts right now. This is the perfect time. DO SOMETHING.”

The reason why I am reflecting on this now is that I, once again, find myself in a rut. I’m in the process of building a business that I continue to question, I am applying for jobs that I don’t necessarily want, and I’m slowly draining my bank account. It’s not that I am nervous or sad. I’m just feeling unfulfilled. I am in that limbo period where I’ve put some effort in and now waiting for anything either positive or negative to surface. I fill my day being both productive and unproductive and being pulled by the many projects I’ve laid out for myself. It’s exhausting just thinking about it.

But, today I was reminded of the memento mori in my Daily Stoic newsletter. It goes on to say that, “We meditate on our mortality so we can use this incredible asset we have been given. So we take nothing for granted. So we are present…” Too many times I lose myself in wandering thoughts and forget to focus toward the goal in order to bring myself back to the present. I think some people go their whole lives without ever focusing and coming back to the present… Seneca had a lot to say about death. One of his quotes brought me back to reality today. He says, “This is our big mistake: to think we look forward to death. Most of death is already gone. Whatever time has passed is owned by death.” It’s important to remember that life will end and to think deeply about it to remind ourselves to live the life worth living now. Do what you need to do because every day is fleeting.

That is where I am ending my day, applying the lessons of my recently discovered old thoughts written down, a realization of where I am now, and a respect for death that will one day come for me and all things around me. Using all of this to focus on my goals in front of me and forge on with everything I’ve got.

Coffee Thoughts

I was waiting in line for a coffee the other day and a man asked the barista if they had an extra mask lying around as he forgot one as he left the house. I began rooting around in my bag to see if I had an extra but, no luck. I told him to try the cheap convenient store next door as the pharmacy would charge an arm and a leg. He was genuinely thankful and began a conversation asking where I was from and how long I had been there before falling on the most mundane and banal question of all, “So, how have you been getting on with the whole pandemic?” I knew right there that I didn’t want to talk much more and I would rather grab my coffee and so I responded, “Actually, very well. I’ve been staying very busy” before waving him off. That was a sincere response to his question. I had travelled when it was permitted, began and finished a post-grad, and started and stopped two jobs, all while staying as active as possible. It wasn’t for a moment later that I thought that maybe the only reason he was asking was that he hadn’t taken the last year and a half as well as I had and he had no one to talk about his possible frustrations with. He had no one to open up to and was genuinely looking for a friend.

Whether there is any truth in that context I don’t know but, I think It’s these moments that most people consider unimportant but which I think should at least be explored. We get too caught up in discussing ourselves and forget to ask questions back. Whether or not you actually care about the person across from you it’s always good to get some insight as to what’s going on in their world. You could make their day or at the very least learn something that will help you in the end. I am here analysing a 1 minute and 30-second conversation I had with a guy that I will probably never see again but I think it’s making me just a little better. If I didn’t write it down I might forget it. So, go out and talk to people and never forget to listen back. It’s easy to boast and lament but it takes patience and understanding to listen to someone else’s happiness and struggles.

The Chautauqua

“He returned to his Midwest, picked up a practical degree in journalism, married, lived in Nevada and Mexico, did odd jobs, worked as a journalist, a science writer, and an industrial-advertising writer. He fathered two children, bought a farm and a riding horse and two cars and was starting to put on middle-aged weight. His pursuit of what has been called the ghost of reason had been given up. That’s extremely important to understand. He had given up.”

The above is an excerpt from Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Rober M. Pirsig. The quote sums up the life of Phaedrus after giving up his quest for reason. I know many people who are perfectly content with living the life described above, but I don’t think I could ever be. It’s too dull and uninspired. Motionless. A means to an end. We fill each void with simple pleasures to hold our attention for a short while in order to distract us from the real beauty around us. I am definitely guilty of temporarily putting aside reason to focus on social media, material possessions, artificial love, and the like, but seem to always come back as I inherently know that that is what matters most. I believe it makes you stronger as a person to continue to search for meaning and connect the dots even if you never find the end. As long as clarity and deep understanding come out of that search I know I have gained something meaningful.

A few pages later the narrator explains to the people around him the importance of maintaining peace of mind and the amount of control we have to create or hinder it:

“ ‘Peace of mind isn’t at all superficial, really,’ I expound. ‘It’s the whole thing. That which produces it is good maintenance; that which disturbs it is poor maintenance. What we call workability of the machine is just an objectification of this peace of mind. The ultimate test’s always your own serenity. If you don’t have this when you start and maintain it while you’re working you’re likely to build your personal problems right into the machine itself.’ “

I think what he is trying to explain here and throughout the book is that we must continuously reflect and fine-tune our minds so that we have favourable and healthy outcomes in life. If we fall into non-self-reflection we tend to sink into bad habits and the drabness of routine, as it still maintains neutral results. We forget to think about ourselves and also the impact we have on others as well as the world around us. At the end of the day, it is all the more exciting to search within yourself. The narrator points out:

“…Mental reflection is so much more interesting than TV it’s a shame more people don’t switch over to it. They probably think what they hear is unimportant but it never is.”

It’s easy to continuously absorb information from the world around us without ever reflecting, creating, and learning from that information. It’s a shame because there is so much that can come from a stroll, a car ride, or reading that we would otherwise find “unimportant”. I feel as though I’ve always been hyperaware of the world around me but more recently have decided to try to learn from the seemingly “unimportant”. I think the more you focus the easier it is to find major connections that will ignite creativity and excitement in your life. We are hardwired to dismiss an idea right away because it doesn’t fit our ideals or beliefs but I think it’s important to read into those ideas because we’ll always be better off knowing why the other side thinks the way they do. You can still hold on to your ideal and your beliefs as long as you’ve exhausted all other alternatives after having explored them.

I hope my thirst for reason never ceases because then I will know that I have truly given up…

Shut Up and Write!

I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. I had a rough weekend. Work is getting tough. I started school. I’m just not in the mood. I don’t know what to write about…

These are just some of the excuses I’ve had for myself as to why I haven’t written on the blog. I do find it compelling for readers to have something interesting to read about in order to fill some literal void in their day, but for me, the rambling thoughts of a stranger sometimes pull me into their mind and let me swim around for a few minutes. What if you could see what someone was thinking? well, you literally can, literarily. These are my thoughts, written down.

So many snapshots of a sustainable, healthy, and positive future lost because my train of thought moves to something happening on the street. World altering Inventions and ideas gone as I step on a bus, tap my card, and start my podcast. If I could just press a button and record my greatest thoughts I would’ve solved most of the world’s problems by now. Did you know some people don’t have an internal monologue? I’ve wondered if that means they don’t have a waking conscience? I don’t know what I would do without my internal self. Always there to tell me to go for it or hold back. Internally laughing at my own jokes. Providing a moral compass so that for the most part I know what is right and what is wrong. I’d be so different without it. Your conscience must make the man, not the clothes. Some people don’t know how to outwardly express themselves and they shouldn’t be judged on not having that ability.

I think wondering if something will ever end is the wrong way to go about it. Being present and not necessarily optimistic, but for a brief second nihilistic, is a good way of looking at things right now. I can’t really think of one word to explain this feeling at the moment. Maybe I haven’t taken as much as I thought from my brief bouts of philosophical reading. That’s part of the fun though, trying your best to put into written words the thoughts you may not be able to articulate by talking or never verbalising at all. Then we can go back and try to make sense of it all in order to push forward with our ‘great ideas.’

I often sit back and think of everything that has brought me to the present and it’s a great feeling to revisit all of those times in order to really appreciate where you are. There’s so much work that was put into the single moment that is now. So much that culminates to every moment that will ever be. Experience and reflect, experience and reflect. That’s a fun way to traverse this world. The odd time you have to throw in the ‘let go’ but don’t get too cocky. Come back to stasis. Maybe not stasis, but come back to a place even if it is many years down the road.

All this is, is just an articulated glimpse into a few random thoughts pulled back together and formed into written word, well, typed... It feels good. It feels right. Your conscience and all of your thoughts throughout the day are secrets to everyone else and sometimes it feels great to share them with another person. A release. In order for me to realize that over and over sometimes I have to tell myself to just, ‘shut up and write!’

There's Mark!

If you haven’t already I would recommend you read my post titled “Where’s Mark?” before you read this. It wouldn’t make much sense otherwise…

About two weeks back I wrote about the man, now known as Mark, living next to the Clanbrassil bridge and the ominous letter I found in his place. For days afterwards I ran past that bridge time and again to see if there was any update on the whiteboard either from himself or maybe a friend. The same message was scrawled onto it, it then became slowly waterlogged, and then the whiteboard was gone altogether. Like many things once seemingly so significant, I slowly began to forget. It’s not that it was no longer important or meaningful; it’s just that more aspects of existence got in the way. Life ‘went on’ whether or not I had known it.

That was until a friend of mine sent me a screenshot of a Reddit post asking if this was the guy I was talking about in my most recent post. Sure enough, it was and I was so excited to hear that Mark was safe and sound. He wasn’t in a cottage in the country but supposedly placed in an apartment with help from the Dublin Simon Community and he was delighted to get off of the streets. My once drab feelings turned into ones of relief and contentment. Sometimes the power on the internet, and Reddit for that matter, can work for the good of humankind. This was definitely one of those times.

Now that I know the man I once thought might be dead was now very much alive, I think it only appropriate to try and reach out. I want to see why so many people were concerned and why so many others responded with such kind words about the mystery man. He must hold a special place in a lot of people’s hearts. And as I said before, I just might learn something. So now it’s up to me to use the power of the internet and the power of Reddit to at least attempt to speak with Mark. From all accounts, he is a very lovely man who just fell on very hard times.

Where's Mark?

It was a rough weekend so I decided to go on an evening run last night around 7 pm. I needed to clear the cobwebs and get a jumpstart on the week. I wanted to be as productive as possible for a Sunday. Better planned than done… After a 3-hour procrastination session, I put on my headphones, started a podcast, and began jogging towards the Grand Canal. I decided to run West along the water just far enough to break a sweat and then I would turn around and head home. Not my usual route because I wanted something different; just a little more stimulating. I started listening to the most recent David Chowe episode of The Joe Rogan Experience as a very light and refreshing mist fell across my face. The beautiful yet dirty canal to my right, cars whizzing by me on the road to my left, and couples walking along taking in the last of the freedom from the weekend. I let the endorphins flood my brain and my thoughts began to wander.

I got to Harold’s Cross bridge and decided that this was far enough for that day before turning around. I crossed over and walked for only a moment before I noticed a whiteboard adorning a tree next to a tent where belongings were strewn about the grass next to a tent near the bridge. Scrawled across the whiteboard was a crude drawing of what looked like a cottage somewhere, I imagined, in the Irish countryside and ‘I wish’ written above it. Underneath on the whiteboard, it read something to the tune of, “I have no money but am willing to part with this drawing for a fishing rod.” I stopped, thinking for a minute about this request because I am someone who enjoys fishing very much and has attempted to fish the canal for the elusive pike that I’ve heard so much about. I stepped off of the footpath towards the tent half deciding what I wanted to do. I hesitated and thought it best to leave the tenant alone for now. I switched my podcast back on and started running East down the canal back home.

The whole way home I thought about my fishing pole at home and whether or not I would be willing to give it to a stranger as a kind gesture. But alas, the fishing pole I had wasn’t mine to give away. I was only holding onto it longterm for a friend. So, when I got home after my run I looked for a cheap pole online that might be easy to transport for a modern-day vagabond. I was about to click purchase but like so many decisions before I would wait another day. I planned to walk by the next day to see if anyone had fulfilled the request. I also thought that a good trade for a new fishing pole might be to have an interview with the stranger to begin my long put off podcast of meeting and interviewing interesting people. Off I went to sleep with a loose plan in place for the morning and some inspiration.

I woke well-rested and ready to run to the gym. The stranger’s tent was on the way. Off I went with the same routine and the second half of my podcast ready to go. It was an overcast morning that was starting to brighten up. I ran down along the canal to the bridge and crossed before turning to find a new note scribbled on the whiteboard that read,

“To all who knew me thank you for your support, and friendship, I am humbled. Mark”

I didn’t understand at first and looked to my right to see the tent and all of the stranger’s belongings gone except for 3 chairs backed up against the wall. Then I began to wonder. Was this a goodbye for good type of note? Was the stranger I now knew to be Mark, maybe, dead? A weird feeling came over me and I saw an older woman also reading the sign with a concerned look on her face. Maybe she knew him. I looked once more where his tent was, now an oval patch of dead grass, and decided to turn around and continue running. Maybe I was overthinking it. Or maybe not.

I didn’t know this man but I did feel for him. He could have been a terrible person or he could’ve been an absolutely wonderful soul. I don’t think I will ever know because I never got to speak to him. I don’t know if I ever will. I regret not calling to him when he may have been sitting in his tent the day before. Just to get a glimpse into his life and maybe learn a few things. I’ve noticed these days that people are more apprehensive to speak to each other, stranger or not. Given the current circumstances, it’s difficult but definitely still possible to reach out. But, I saw this trend happening well before this pandemic, with myself included. Seeing that sign today was a reminder to me that everyone is worth having a chat with and I am going to try to speak up more instead of asking ‘what if?’ after the fact. If I am overthinking all of this then I do hope Mark’s wish was realised and that he is sitting safe and sound in his countryside cottage.

History Repeated

I am currently reading “Sophie’s World” by Jostein Gaarder and it has reawakened the philosophical wonderment that I first experienced in high school. I remember I had an Ethics teacher who had to leave unexpectedly early on maternity leave and a substitute teacher was called in to take her place on the very short notice. He looked at the lesson plans and figured that our young minds needed to be exposed to some completely different, not so cookie-cutter, material. We needed a multisided story about life that some might not otherwise be exposed to sitting in a Jesuit classroom. We needed to learn about Camus and Freud and Nietzche. About Plato’s allegory of the cave. We needed to think for ourselves and about ourselves. I remember that I had the feeling that someone was finally exposing the personal questions I had about the meaning of life, existence, and purpose. Some students dismissed that class but these questions and more have stuck with me. I have once again found myself falling down that so-called rabbit hole.

There’s a lot in this book to take in and that is worthy of repeating but alas I cannot write it all. I am also only up to the Baroque period and have a lot more to rediscover about late and modern day philosophy. One excerpt stuck out to me due in part to the state of the world at the moment. The narrator is speaking to the main character, a 14-year old girl, he is giving a long philosophical history lesson to via letters and later in-person meetings. He is finished speaking about antiquity and explains that almost one thousand years have passed since the days of the early Greek philosophers. Next would be the Christian Middle Ages, which also lasted for about a thousand years. He states:

The German poet Goethe once said that ‘he who cannot draw on three thousand years is living from hand to mouth.’ I don’t want you to end up in such a sad state. I will do what I can to acquaint you with your historical roots. It is the only way to become a human being. It is the only way to become more than a naked ape. It is the only way to avoid floating in a vacuum.

I thought that this excerpt was so powerful and a great message to all people who choose not to learn from what has come before them before shouting their opinions from the rooftops. You might have heard the quote, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it” by the writer and philosopher George Santayana. This is so widely accepted yet so many people fail or choose not to learn from those who came before them.

Early Greek philosophers reasoned using nothing more than the thoughts in their heads and the experiences with the society around them. Philosophy has evolved over thousands of years but we should not forget those roots and all that has been learned since then. Sir Francis Bacon’s quote, “ipsa scientia protestas est” or “knowledge itself is power” is what I believe will make the world a better place. A focus on education and open dialogue will do wonders for close-minded fear-mongering people. You are an individual who shares this world with everyone around you.

What if we lived in a world made up of people with an insatiable desire for knowledge?

Siberian Tinder - Part 2

I woke sometime around 11 am the next morning and my head was pounding. I got up and looked out of the window to find a complete white-out. It was the 10th of May and there was a full-on blizzard happening outside. It was so beautiful and peaceful that all I wanted to do was go back to sleep. Check-out was supposed to be 10 am but I didn’t think anyone was checking in to my room after I left… I walked down to the manger’s room and knocked on her door. A minute or two later, she stumbled to the door and looked worse off than me after her 2-day bender. I asked her if I could stay and sleep in for a few hours which she graciously affirmed would be fine. I trudged back up the stairs to my room, took one more look out of the window at the picturesque scene around me, before snuggling up in my bed and falling back asleep.

I woke up again not much better off than before but decided I was overstaying my welcome and that I had a long journey back into Irkutsk. I once again packed my backpack to the brim and of course, accidentally left behind some things. It seemed to happen every time but was a blessing because months later I realized I didn’t need as much as I thought, to get by. I could do with a lot less and so could everyone else for that matter. I slung my pack over my shoulder and sauntered down the stairs, head aching. I was greeted by the manager who called me a taxi to bring me down to the lakeside road to catch my people-mover back into town. We gave our awkward hungover goodbyes and I was off down the bumpy dirt road. A few minutes later I was at an out of order ATM wondering how I was going to pay the taxi driver. I walked back and explained the situation and she gave me a ‘no problem!’ which really goes a long way when you are strapped for cash travelling solo in a foreign land. I waited until my people-mover arrived seemingly out of nowhere and I packed in once again for my 1.5-hour journey back to Irkutsk.

I returned back to the market where I originally departed and did a quick sweep to see if there were any hidden gems. I am a bit of ‘trash is treasure’ type of person and saw a lot of gems that I decided wouldn’t be smart to collect carry on with me. Luckily, the hostel I was to stay in that night was only a 20-minute walk from the market. It was a perfect amount of time to browse Tinder which was a normal time-killer to me on this trip. I matched with a few girls by the time I made it to my hostel. I walked up a flight of stairs and was greeted by a warm common room with some soft jazz playing in the background and was soon led to my shared room. I introduced myself to the two Australian girls staying in the bunk opposite mine and made my bed for the night. I learned that the two girls were doing a similar trip to mine, just in the opposite direction. They had already been travelling for a few months and had some great stories to tell and advice to give me for my journey ahead. We decided we would have a few drinks later in the common room to swap info. I laid back in bed and continued my tinder journey.

A short text conversation later Nadya agreed to meet for a drink and some food and I asked her to recommend a place. Funny enough she recommended a ‘traditional’ Irish pub called Harat’s not too far away from the hostel. It was just like that song by the High Kings, “…’Cause wherever you go around the world you’ll find an Irish pub.” In fact, when Googling back on Harat’s I found out there were around 10 within a few miles of each other in Irkutsk… And it was true that almost every city I went to in the world I found some version of an Irish pub. But, I digress. I took a much-needed shower and did myself up as best I could. I was just hoping for a bit of company as it could get lonely on my own. I walked over to the pub and decided to try the Guinness before Nadya arrived. It was shocking, but still better than no Guinness at all.

Nadya arrived and we had a great time discussing both our backgrounds and how crazy it was that our paths had crossed. The advent of the internet had done crazy things for global social interaction. She told me about life in Irkutsk and that she hadn’t done any travel outside of Russia so was very keen on hearing my take on other parts of the world. It was very informal, which was a nice change from other dates I had been on. We ate our mediocre meals and decided on a few more pints, half pints for her, as the conversation started flowing. Before long she let me know that she had to leave soon because there was a party she had to attend. I probed a little further hoping to get an invite into a traditional Siberian home for the festivities. Well, it turned out the party was a birthday for her 5-year-old son. This came as a surprise to me because there was no mention of a child in her life but it didn’t make any difference because I learned a lot from her and enjoyed the company while I had it. We went our separate ways, never to speak again, but happy to have connected in the first place.

As it started to get dark I took a leisurely stroll to the supermarket where I grabbed a few bags of chips and a few beers before heading back to my hostel. When I returned, the two Australian girls and the hostel manager were enjoying a bottle of wine and some good conversation which I was invited into. I remember the conversation taking a turn at one point and the focus became America and its ideals. I felt that was a constant topic throughout my travels and it was so interesting to see how people from other parts of the world thought about the place where I grew up. Sometimes it was good but most often people disagreed with certain American values. But, what I thought most important and reassuring was when people understood you as an individual not solely connected to the person running your country or to how the media portrays life where you come from. It’s encouraging when they have an interest in learning who you are and what good can get done from having a conversation. As you can guess, the conversation got pretty deep and it was a good ending to my short time in Irkutsk. I called it a night and was already packed and ready to leave early the next morning.

I tiptoed out early as to not disturb anyone’s sound sleep. I found it very annoying when people would leave early without having packed the night before causing a huge commotion to those sleeping around them. The hostel manager pointed me to my bus stop and before I knew it I was back at the dingy train station reading the old flip schedule for my platform. I grabbed another 3-in-1 instant coffee from the small shop and headed to platform 3. 30 minutes later a new Chinese train line arrived. I would be riding in “1st Class” for the next three days through the remainder of Siberia, through Mongolia, to my final destination in Beijing, China and another 4 months of travel.

Siberian Tinder - Part 1

We exited the train into Irkutsk Station after 6 days journey on the train from Moscow to Irkutsk. My two bunkmates and I were still very much friends but there was a hint on both sides that we could use the time away from each other. We walked through a long tunnel underneath the tracks to the main station waiting area which consisted of those old flip arrival/departure boards, a small shop, and a lot of old and worn out people waiting. Waiting maybe for a train or maybe nothing at all. It didn’t seem that a whole lot was going on in one of the largest cities in Siberia. Looks can be deceiving though. The next day, 9 May 2019, was Victory Day and there would be military marches and the like all over town. I only had a few days until my next train to Mongolia so thought it wise to get to where I really wanted to go; Listvyanka and Lake Baikal. The deepest freshwater lake in the world and the only home to freshwater seals.

My bunkmates and I gave our sincerest goodbyes and promises of meeting up again. Unfortunately, that didn’t end up happening and I sure did miss the fun we had together. I went to the small shop in the station and got a coffee, well the Siberian version of coffee which is instant 3-in-1 coffee, milk powder, and sugar. That was a common theme throughout my time in Siberia. I don’t think coffee beans can make it that far or there isn’t really a market for it. Having a coffee cup tattooed on my leg you would think I would make a better effort to search for it. But, I think I had different motives then.

I remember getting money from a dodgy ATM in the train station and headed out to the street to figure out how I would get to Lake Baikal. No one spoke English so it was on to the Naver App (the Russian equivalent of Google Maps at the time) to see if I could find the easiest transport. It was telling me to take the 19 bus to the city centre and then walk a while to another bus. I looked around and there were no real signs pointing to a no. 19 bus or any other transport for that matter. So I followed the map to a nearby street and waited. I saw a bus come by and down the road, a random person waved it down and boarded in the middle of the street. Monkey see monkey do. I waited a while, a little concerned that my bus would never come until there it was in all its wet and pollution stained glory. I waved frantically and by a miracle, the bus driver stopped. I boarded, showed him my phone, he mumbled, and I took a seat. As soon as I saw how the next person who boarded paid, I followed suit. Now I was a local. Well, not quite but felt as if I had accomplished something.

I sat there a bit weary but also excited to get to my destination. It was only about a 10-minute ride until I started seeing signs of life as well as the infamous Irkutsk wooden houses that I read about in my bunkmate’s guidebook. It felt as if I had gone back in time and that life was just a little slower here. I arrived at what felt like my stop and threw the driver a quick ‘spasiba’ before exiting the bus with my packed-to-the-gills backpack. It was a short look around and then off to a market where I would find my next mode of transport.

It was still very early so not much in the way of restaurants and shops were open. I was starving for something other than instant coffee, instant noodles, and bread with meat which was my diet for the last 6 days. I couldn’t forget about my daily dose of vodka and beer in the dining cart with all my new Russian friends who I know I would never see again. If I had I am almost sure that neither I nor them would recognize each other.

I arrived as the market was just starting to come to life. The vendors’ best fruits and vegetables were being showcased in the front and there were a few older folks selling Soviet Era trinkets. A time that many Russians missed dearly. I could only take a short stroll because I needed to find out where my bus was departing from. Again, there were no signs. Just local people familiar with how to get where engrained in their daily routine. I noticed some people getting in and out of people mover vans and decided to investigate. Not much to my surprise after showing some drivers the Russian translation for Lake Baikal it was confirmed that I was in the right area. My driver gave me the ‘just wait’ gesture with his hands equivalent to a pass-interference call from the ref in American Football. I waited and after the driver smoked a few cigarettes and chatted enough to his fellow comrades he signaled for all of the people who were now congregated outside of the van to get going. We all jammed into this old van and off on a 1.5 hour journey to my destination.

After what felt like days I finally arrived at what I believed to be my stop. The massive lake in front of me kind of gave it away. I walked away from the lake up a steep dirt road in search of my hostel and in need of a short nap until I did some exploring. Finally, amongst many rundown houses and amidst the forest, I found my large log-built cabin of a hostel. It was surrounded by many other cabins and a vast amount of land. I walked in and set my stuff down, back aching. It looked like no one was staying in the whole compound. I was a little out of season.

A few minutes later a distraught younger Asian-looking woman came out of the room next to the entrance and asked me who I was. I explained who I was and that I was booked in to stay the night there. Just as I finished my introduction an older looking Asian woman came from upstairs and started yelling to the woman in Russian. They both guided me up to the kitchen and offered me a cup of coffee. Me, having no idea what was going on, graciously accepted the warm hospitality but in the back of my mind, I just wanted to lay down and be alone. The younger woman sat down with me and poured out her whole life story to me. The reason why she was so distraught was that she had her birthday party the night before and there was an excessive amount of drinking and the police were called due to a robbery.

So, it turns out amidst her party her ex-boyfriend, who she is not on good terms with, showed up unexpectedly. They put their differences aside for a few hours but when he left she noticed that money equivalent to $5,000 had been taken from the hostel safe. She called the police who showed up and did a full investigation including fingerprinting and interrogating. But, the ex-boyfriend was nowhere to be found. What made matters worse was that the “hostel” did not have a permit to operate for accommodation so upon lying they would not take the investigation any further. There was even more to the story about that night but I don’t think this post warrants those crude events. She explained to me that she dated an Englishman many moons ago and they had a child who then lived with him in London. She was born and raised in a small mining town in Northeastern Siberia where she explained I should never go. I was completely overwhelmed and waiting for some more information on the availability of my room. That’s when the older woman who I soon found out to be her mother grabbed my arm and showed me to my four-bed room. I assumed no one else would be staying. I then explained that I would be taking a rest but the young woman was keen to show me around when I awoke.

After a short but incredible nap, I went out to the kitchen and cooked the last of my instant ramen noodles leftover from the train. I needed a bit of fuel if I was going to get my second wind. That’s when the young woman appeared once more and prodded me about what I wanted to do. I told her I wanted to hike but she explained that it was far too late to begin a hike and it would take a while to get to the trailhead. I thought about it and said I would like to jump into the famous lake. She seemed a little shocked and then said I could do Banya near the lake which is a Russian sauna. Having done no research of my own and having no plan and limited time I decided to take her advice.

A 30-minute walk down to the road next to the lake we met a man waiting for us. I paid him half of the money I would owe him and then we went to go get beer as is a must during Banya. When we came back he was gone and she led me across the road towards the lake. We went down a flight of stairs to a metal-looking shed and opened the door into what looked like an 80s-esque porn set with a dried-up ceramic fountain in the middle and Christmas lights adorning the ceilings. When I first gazed to my left I couldn’t believe the views out onto the lake. That view alone made it all worth it. I sat in awe as she told me to undress and put on my sauna hat. I opted to wear a swimsuit as I didn’t know what was customary. Probably the only time have in my world sauna experience outside of America…

The man we met earlier was shoveling wood into a furnace in the next room and showed me what to do and what not to do before opening a large metal door that dropped straight into Lake Baikal and it’s freezing April waters. I spotted ice sheets in the distance. He motioned to go into the extremely hot sauna and then into the frigid water back and forth until I felt I achieved what I had come there to do. I cracked open an ice-cold Siberian tallboy and started my hot and cold repetitions. The sauna was the hottest I have ever remembered being in and the lake was so refreshing right after that I don’t think I was able to experience it’s truly frigid temperatures. It was a perfect balance only realized after done about 30 times and 5 beers later. By the end of it, I was ready to go.

My body did feel much better after almost a week on a train without much movement. It was straight to the liquor store, in a cab that would only be taking us a mile at most, to buy some more beer. I was soon talked into purchasing a whole lot of vodka because, why not, I was in the heart of Siberia. What else was there to do. When we got back to the house, night began to fall and there wasn’t much else to do besides drink vodka and listen to music. Two other young women joined us making it four and there was a very large language barrier between all of us. But, that didn’t stop everyone speaking the universal language of dance, which I spoke fluently. There came a point where my memory faded but I did make it to my room for more very much needed sleep before the adventure would continue the next day.

Redundant Dreams

At the start of this year I was in a funk and looking for a job. Well, not necessarily a funk but a sort of state of career limbo. I had just come off of one of the best travel highs of my life, went back to Chicago, then back to Dublin to look for a job for a grueling three months. All of a sudden it clicks. It all finally falls into place and I’m offered a new job just as the social and economic structure of our world begins to deteriorate. But, I was still holding on to that hope of my new job bringing me some financial stability. And it turns out that this job is great and the people are even better. Maybe this was more than just money in my pocket. It was something I could build from.

Alas, reality hit once again and now I am told that I am redundant - no longer needed or useful; superfluous. I hate that word. It makes you feel exactly what it means. Now I am feeling a real impact of everything that’s going on in the world around me. I think a lot of people are. Despite all of this my creative juices are flowing once again and despite what’s coming I feel less anxious than I thought I would.

I am, by nature, a dreamer. I can’t help but imagine ideal situations and states of mind no matter how far out of reach. Some of these dreams I choose to act on and I may fail to reach them. Others I let sit idly by procrastinating until the right time reveals itself to me in order to put into place. Either way I think it’s these utopias, fantasies, adventures, and dreams that allow me to have hope that things can and will be better than they currently are.

I’ve been slowly disconnecting myself again from that 9 to 5 mentality and trying to focus on what makes me feel good, comfortable, and excited. Ideally, I would like to marry the two worlds of work and play and create a fulfilling life built around things I truly care about and look forward to doing every day regardless of what’s going on internally or externally. I finally started to organise my notes, ideas, and rambles into one document which I think will eventually lead to something amazing and reveal my underlying motivator.

I found this note I wrote to myself on the night before Christmas Eve sitting in a hostel in Vienna waiting for my connecting flight the next morning:

“Is it strange that something that brings me the most peace and joy is traveling and ending up in a city completely alone not knowing a single soul? The process of getting on a flight and digging deep into my book, writing, watching movies. Then getting off in a foreign land and figuring out how to get to your hostel at the darkest hours of the night brings me pure unobstructed peace.”

Those are the type of moments when my mind wanders and creates and there is so much hope for everything. Absolutely anything is possible. And it still is despite the changes we are seeing all around us. This is the perfect time to come up with solutions to current or foreseeable problems. They don’t have to be life-changing, just different.

The lesson I am trying to teach myself is to never stop dreaming. These “random” dreams, thoughts, and ideas when organised make a lot of sense to me. I just need to dig a little bit deeper to turn those dreams into reality.

I'll Take That!

“Make them give you the thing that you want to take,” is what I heard from a podcast I was listening to on a run the other day. I wish I could give credit where credit is due but I can’t seem to remember which podcast it came from… Though this statement might seem harsh I think it is our subliminal reality on the way we get what we want from others. Well, maybe not everyone. Most salespeople and charmers anyways.

A young child can persuade with sadness or guilt, an attractive woman with her beauty, and through sympathy for an elderly or sickly person. These can be unconscious instances or fueled by ulterior motives. In both instances it is the recipe for getting what you desire. I think it is something that, once recognized and put into practice, can open a lot of doors in business and relationships. I have not mastered either so who knows if my theory works. What I do know is that I am going to test my theory out as any good amateur scientist would do.

Where Do I Start?

Oh, where do I start? Where are we? Where are you? Let’s take a second to relax. One breath in through the nose. Hold it. Then out of the mouth. That’s literally all you need to do to make it just a little easier. The world is still turning and life will go on. That’s a fact. I wrote the previous lines last Saturday night after a full day of drinking. It might have been a reminder to myself but it is also a good reminder to many of us right now. Turn off the radio and TV for a while, put down your phone, and try to make the best of this time.

I rode through town yesterday specifically to pick up fishing tackle as I’ve taken up the new activity of fishing in the Grand Canal. Just one of many new hobbies. I made sure to keep my distance from the people around me but was intent on taking notice of everything happening around me. I think it will be important to remember the look and feel of these days for the betterment of our future selves. It was weird seeing so many shops closed and so few people walking the streets. A few music stores, bike shops, hardware stores, and the bait and tackle shop had their doors open. Very niche shops but in my opinion important. The grocery stores and chemists were open of course and some restaurants were providing takeaway and delivery only.

During stressful or uncertain times our basic need for food and medicine must be met but I think it’s easy to forget about the so-called non-essential needs that need some of the most attention. Mainly, our mental health. Music, hobbies, building, and exercising are all parts of life that I think we take for granted and that not only help take our minds off of our current situation but also allows us to release our creativity that might otherwise remain dormant. Communicate with your loved ones regularly any way that you can. It’s amazing what a check-in can do for you.

This is, no doubt, going to have major health and economic outcomes in the short-term and long-term which I could dig very deep into but which I won’t. That’s not the purpose of this post. I assume everyone has already been down that rabbit hole anyways with the extensive amount of content being fed to us on a minute-by-minute basis. As I’ve stated before I have a love for science fiction and specifically apocalyptic themes. I can’t help but flip through my brain catalogue as to what book this situation loosely reminds me of. One that came to mind was “Alas, Babylon” by Pat Frank. It takes place in an apocalyptic America in a small town in Florida during and after a nuclear attack from the Soviets. The point I want to make from this book was that the situation was extremely chaotic at first but people banded together in order to overcome the situation. It took time and energy. It’s a fictitious story and situation but, we can learn from it and take it into real life.

Certain businesses will close and others will be hit tremendously. The ones who will survive will find new ways of doing business. They will adapt, pivot, and move on. We as human beings will do the same. This is a huge learning experience for the world and all we can try to do is go forward. It will get worse before it gets better and it’s only human to be worried and scared but, it’s how we deal with those feelings that will allow us to move onward and upward. Stay positive.

Finding My Self

Sometimes I forget how to speak. Not like I become mute or anything. Just that I forget how to be my true self. The self that I always want to be, but sometimes don’t have the confidence to be. It seems to happen to me in waves and at random times throughout my life. Yes, we are ever-changing and maturing but I think there is an underlying ‘self’ that most of us have that sticks with us throughout our lifetimes. I just seem to forget it or bury it away at times. I understand what hides it and what might control it, but it is easier said than done to find it and bring it back. I was visiting a friend in London this weekend, we were catching up, and I explained to him that my last 2 weeks were pretty amazing and the world seemed a lot brighter. A few days earlier I had figured out why I was feeling this way as it came to mind that I was taking chances, letting my anxiety go, and saying ‘fuck it.’ I was letting the worries of life melt off of me. It was an epiphany that I have come to realize before but since then have forgotten. It’s something I constantly forget.

So, I asked myself what are the things that bring my ‘self’ back to me and how can I constantly live with that courage that often seems to fade away when hard times arise. I’ve been doing a lot of interviews lately. A lot of interviews… I prep well in advance for the roles that I know I am suited for; ones where I might have the experience and the skill set that is laid out in the job description. I read up on the type of people the company might like, past interviews and what the right answers to their questions might be, and take the ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ mentality to heart. I over-prep for the phone call or the interview and when the time comes and I start talking I can hear the bullshit coming out of my mouth, just as if I was a completely different person. I might be chipper, or serious, maybe smooth. It all depends on the person I am talking to. But, at the end of the day I am not me. I am not being genuine to the interviewer or to myself. Many people have told me, and I used to agree, that sometimes you have to be that fake person in order to get ahead. That you have to tell white lies, pump up your CV, and put on a different face. But, I’ve realized that if you’ve put in the hard work and the time in the past and you are truly interested in the job ahead then you shouldn’t need to put on the facade.

It was last Wednesday over a pint with a friend that I cracked that code. I was talking about things I was truly interested in. I was doing little impersonations and cracking myself up. I was just being my old weird self. I was relaxed and in the moment. I hadn’t felt that way in a while. Then, I talked about work and the interview process and how I was so anxious and that nothing was coming out of it in my favor. My friend simply said, ‘be honest.’ She reminded me to be real and to be open about my shortcomings, setbacks, and gaps in my CV in order to paint a picture of what kind of professional I am and where I want to go. I should, quite simply, be myself. It was a straightforward, yet transforming conversation that kick started something inside of me. I took that into my next phone call and the pressure was lifted. I was an open book ready to sell my true self.

I’ve come up with two attributes that stand out to this rediscovered self-realization. One is confidence and the other is not giving a fuck. Having unwavering confidence in everything you do unlocks this special power inside of you that allows you to do anything you want. A lot of foreign people I have met have said that this is an American attribute, which I don’t doubt is partly true. It is having that deep belief you can reach a goal whether or not you have the means at that moment to get there. Others might think your ambitions are absolutely impossible but, if you truly believe it then you will make it happen one way or another. But, you must also remember that your dream is still just a dream until you decide to act on it.

I was authentically inspired by the book ‘The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck’ by Mark Manson and that is definitely where the second attribute stems from. That book was the push I needed to take my 6-month backpacking trip and I am forever grateful for having that experience. But, I think it was only until recently that I really understood the power of not sweating the small stuff, or most stuff for that matter. I often found my mind racing and my thoughts wandering. This would result in procrastination which would then lead into under-performance because I would be spreading myself so thin. What I learned is to care less about the things I can’t change and to focus on the things that I can (a little serenity prayer nod there). This holds true for more than just the constant worries of daily life. I found it extremely empowering to not get caught up in everyone else’s opinions about you and about the world around you. Someone will always say don’t do that, that’s not right, or you’re wrong. There is so much opinion floating around, especially in the age of social media, that it’s easy to get caught up in what other people think. Who the fuck cares… you do you. Learn from the mistakes that come out of your failures and form your own opinion uninhibited by anyone else.

My Notes, An Interpretation - Mondo Cane

For as long as I can remember I’ve always jotted down the things that popped into my head that I felt needed saving for later. Anything from a possible invention to a street scene I found emotionally moving. It went into my idea notepad during the early days and then into the notes section of my phone since about 2012. Some, I can remember very clearly, maybe even the time and place, while others I have fun trying to decipher as to why I would write it down. I thought it might be interesting to sift through the 424 notes on my phone and the rest of my idea notepad in order to relive those times and ideas. Not only to make sense of what I wrote but also to come away with something that will benefit me moving forward. Since I don’t have my idea notepad with me in Ireland let’s start with the very first note in my phone dated 5/26/12.

Exactly like ‘Mondo Cane’ but how human adaptions mimic animal adaptions. Within touristy areas.

This is definitely a weird one to start with but at the same time, get fucking used to it! My life revolves around weirdness. If you haven’t seen ‘Mondo Cane,’ please find it on the internet, watch it, and come back to this post. My friend Billy introduced me to this documentary most likely in 2007 or 2008. He was introduced to it by his father who had first come about the film around its advent in 1963. Our dads were very similar in many ways and I think they have had a hand in both of our creative life endeavours. But, I digress. Mondo cane literally translates into English as ‘doggish world’ which is a fitting title for a documentary that portrays ritual scenes from across the globe which seem bizarre to Western standards but then at the same time shows Western rituals that probably seem bizarre to the rest of the world. This film shocked its viewers at the time it came out in the ‘60s and still blew the minds of two 15-year-old kids who were introduced to it in the early 2000s. It’s not to say I hadn’t seen anything like it before but it really made me think. Enough so that I am writing about it still to this day.

I think it was back in May of 2012 when I went to visit my friend Rich in Beijing where he was studying for his final year of college. I remember getting off of the plane in Beijing Airport after almost 22 hours of travel and then waiting in an hour-long taxi rank to eventually arrive on campus at Rich’s dorm defeated but ready for anything. Rich’s first words as I ran into him in the stairwell were, “Where the fuck have you been, are you ready to go out?” Which I dutifully replied, “Yes.” When I came to from a brownout hours later I was nice and drunk with a tinge of jet-lag queueing to see Mao Zedong’s body in Tiananmen Square at 5 am. Through some misinterpretation on Rich’s end we eventually found out that it might take the full day to get to see the venerable Chairman Mao. So, being hungry and tired, we left our place in line and headed home. I finally got my much-needed rest before the mayhem continued the next day.

Sometime over the next 14 days was when I wrote the note. I believe I was observing foreigners in the Sanlitun area of Beijing sniffing, poking, and prodding as they walked past clubs, food stalls, and elderly beggars that often times lined the streets. They were timid yet curious and used their senses to justify this new world around them. I thought this seemingly reminiscent of zoo animals being brought into a new enclosure for the first time unsure as to how to cope with the new feelings that came with a new setting. I remember thinking how funny it was to see people naturally revert back to their primal instincts when presented with the unknown. That was the moment when I thought back to ‘Mondo Cane’ and the way they portrayed the human race holding these seemingly obscure traditions dear to themselves sometimes for the only sake of it being, well, a tradition. We are all just intelligent animals going through life using our inherited survival skills to live while at the same time pondering why we are intelligent enough to be able to think so deeply about the meaning of everything.

Before I start to babble I want to focus on the connections made from that note. I remember it well sitting in the front room of Billy’s parent’s house in Roger’s Park popping that DVD into the player no doubt stoned as teenagers often were. Then probably 8 years later I found myself in China watching street scenes with a similar thought in my mind. Now to present day where I’m sitting in front of my laptop in Ireland creating something because of those sequence of events. Creativity for me stems from connecting those dots and then branching into something new. Hopefully, these notes bring back amazing once-forgotten memories that allow me to create something out of what most people consider nothing and lead you, the reader, down an endless entertaining rabbit hole.