Losing track is a bad feeling. Itās like watching a train crash in slow motion. I sit as a passive observer to my own life, helpless as the wheels of progress slowly peel off the tracks of discipline and the body of the train endears itself to the ground, thrashing into oblivion, barreling off the proper path in a magnificent twirling motion, throwing those within through the air like the pulp in freshly pressed, pulp-filled orange juice shaken to properly distribute the contents. Read More...
Itās been shocking to find out how much Iāve been doing wrong. Iāve been spending the past 3 days of the weekend working with abandon, and trying to avoid distraction as much as possible, but Iāve still been far less successful than I hoped Iād be.
I made a big list last Friday (the 13th!) and followed that through Friday and the weekend. My approach was the Jocko Willink turbo mode method - make a big list, on paper, and cross the items off the list as you finish them. Read More...
Itās a quarter to one (AM) as I write this. Iāve been undergoing a fascinating transformation lately. While I have, of course, encountered stumbling blocks and often find myself recessing into the crevices of my old mind in the hope that Iāll find some comfort there. Itās a kind of lust after the peace that skeletons encounter - and that analysis isnāt too far off - the recesses of my mind are filled to the rafters with skeletons I thought Iād buried. Read More...