Daily Writings on Life, Lifting, and Nutrition (eBook)
ALL profits from this book will go to buying lifting equipment and bringing affordable science based training options to the Costa Ricans, who have so graciously allowed me to be an extended stay tourist in their world.
People have been asking me to compile my writings into one place for years. I always responded cordially, “Superb idea!” And then I just kept on writing.
The truth is, I wasn’t that confident in my own writing to aggregate it all into something tangible…more real. When I look back at writing from my early twenties, I don’t want anyone to read or reread it. I have been laying words down on digital paper nearly every day for ten years, and looking back at the last year of writing, I don’t have that feeling of disgust or remorse. Instead, it feels like it is time to reward those beautifully people who have read and stuck by my garbage and decided to keep on giving me the greatest gift anyone ever can – their attention.
I will collect and uncover more data, my ideals will change, I will change, but this compilation of writings from June 30th, 2016 to September 30th, 2017 is where I was at that moment in time. It was the truth as I knew it, and I hope it can help you.
I know that the writing of it helped me, and I am immeasurably thankful that there are people out there who want to read what I write.
Authors say that they only write for themselves. This is bullshit. We write because we don’t know how to do anything else. We write because we can’t imagine not writing. We write because we hope there are humans out there as insane as we are. We are sending out messages in corked bottles from the island of crazy – population unknown.
“Writing is, for some of us, the latch that keeps the door of the pen closed, keeps those crazy ravenous dogs contained.”
-Anne Lamott – Bird by Bird
Maybe you will read these short and medium form works and think, “I can do that. I want to write!”
Then do it again.
The author of Writing Down the Bones, Natalie Goldberg, compares writing to flying a bike and the only thing that keeps you in the air is writing.
So write and write some more.
Any day I don’t write, I feel a sense of sorrow and guilt as my head hits the pillow. I tell you this as a warning because there is no going back. There is no taking the blue pill. I dread that feeling and the avoidance of it has changed my life.