Fire By Sea

You want something to happen, so you manifest it. I don’t mean you take some prescribed steps from point A to B, but you intend it to happen. Cast your order into the Universe.

Then things start to happen. Serendipity. Fate. Chance. Coincidence. Synchronicity. Meant to be.

The trick is you can’t directly focus on your want. The focus has to be on the happening. There’s a difference there. Want draws attention just to the self. The happening casts out pure intent on the process.

Something to think about as I enter these next two critical years of life. The ones that are supposed to propel me into another phase.

The ocean is teeming with life and life force. After I come out from surfing I’ve lost most of my excessive water weight and I feel like I’ve been injected with totally healthy, positive, natural vibes.

There is something about being immersed in deep blue liquid that moves and beneath you contains the bulk of the Earth’s surface mass — all connected, of course. The origin of life, too.

That’s why surfing is so appealing, actually. It’s not just the riding of a board on a wave — it’s the whole package. Being in the ocean actually regenerates and heals and nurtures. (6/28)

It starts when I wake up: very groggy, too tired, nausea to the core and mentally very worn down.

Am I sick or do I need a vacation, or both?

There are a lot of things I know I could be doing to improve my health (a sound diet is simply not enough), such as yoga, more stretching, time outdoors in the sun, riding the bike, positive thinking.

I noticed the decline after I came back from China. That experience was traumatic enough, but then I had to deal with some delicate money-work issues, followed by even more stressful (albeit hopefully more rewarding) work issues.

All I know is I better be better by 2012.

We’re going to Honolulu — a pretty good place to be if you like being warm, surfing, nightlife, shopping and basically getting away from small rural towns.

I hope to will accomplish the following: I want to get back in touch with my core, with who I am and what I represent. Being here around certain peoples and their money has diluted my clarity and vision (so much in fact that I forgot for a long while my 2010 3 words: greatness, action, independence).

Basically I’m best served writing and editing. I MUST at all costs keep this steady, fill the well with words and practice. Writing will set me free.

There’s greatness and there’s Greatness.

The former is the fun, the awesomeness, the good times — the day to day seeking of pleasure and comforts.

But Greatness — that’s much harder to achieve, let alone aspire to. It requires temperance — a focus that goes way beyond the day-to-day, week-to-week survival and comforts.

In fact, Greatness is abstract. You’re trying to achieve something you’ll never hold in your hands (exception: children, loves, loved ones). You’re trying to go from vision to reality even though you accept that can’t ever truly happen.

I like both greatnesses. When you shoot for the Big one, the small comes in tow — or at least in my experience. (6/25)

When I was a bartender at this certain restaurant, I served a wine called Echelon. I never thought much about that word, but as I enter this phase in my life it has a significant meaning.

Echelon means higher level. The mere sound of it sounds higher, doesn’t it?

So here I sit on the balcony of my Four Seasons Resort room, feeling the promise of echelon. Not necessarily right now, but a sign of things to come. Echelon. Elevation. Rising from the place I’ve been for years, trying to always reach that elusive plateau.

Yesterday I sat next to Michael Dell. That’s echelon.

I just listened to a session on blogging by the other CB — excellent as usual, but what’s the takeaway?

Stop the perfectionist writing, for starters. I’m not in college anymore, this isn’t writing for Morgan Blair.  It’s conversation with value. Get that: Conversation with value.

As such, WF should be not about making the sale, but about how your words and content can help you help you make true, deep and lasting connections with people, on a human level. Building communities through voice, words, tone, style.

Are you being human? Are you comfortable with what you’re writing. Does is make you feel alive and genuine? Can you converse without self-serving intentions? (6/22)

In Alaska, the solstice is always a big, bittersweet deal.

I never knew much about it growing up because I spent all my summers in Hawaii. But later in life, the solstice was the highest point you could reach in an Alaska summer: maximum daylight until the switch turned and daylight started to decrease.

Here in Hawaii, solstice is not such a big deal at all. Yay, it’s summer,we say…why does it seem to start so late? Sure it’s light late but nothing like good ‘ol AK.

I guess when you live in a place where light is not such a big deal (you take it for granted), it’s not too jarring when you hit the peak light cycle of the year.

All in all, I love summer. It’s my favorite season by far. But that’s for another post.

Summer has always been a time of respite from the hellish demands, pressure and misery of the rest of the year. As a kid, I hated the abuse I had to endure in the school year under the rooftop of a very highly dysfunctional family.

But every year, come June 15, I’d fly by myself to Hawaii for a summer full of exclusive love and attention and spoiling. Even the plane ride there was a big deal — I got to get on a plane knowing that no matter what shit I put up with or would have to put up with later, I was safe and sound for exactly 60 days.

I remember arriving in Hilo excited to be free, to do the things I wanted to do without ever feeling like a low life animal.

That’s just a tiny glimpse of why I love summer. I plan to write more about this as this summer progresses. (6/22)