"move fast, break things" via

Disclaimer: I have no idea where this is going to go.

It's been quiet here. Even Grammarly has slid into my DMs, pointing out how little I've written. I've got a dozen concepts, intros, outlines, and ideas collecting digital dust, but I haven't been able to commit any time to them.

Correction, I haven't been willing to.

I want to blame work, the economy, my kids' schedules, and competing hobbies for it.

Blame: Assign responsibility or fault

That's the wrong word. As always, it was a choice—a series of choices, in fact—to commit my energy to other things and people.

Choosing Joy

I try to practice an abbreviated version of ethical hedonism (these days)—embracing joy and avoiding pain. Writing brings joy but also a bit of stress—stress that doesn't always result in long-tail pleasure, unlike exercise. The difficulty or even pain one endures to train one's body can result in floods of endorphins and joy and pride in what one's body can do. But writing doesn't always have that payoff.

So I chose to golf more, play chess, have sushi dates and play Scrabble with my wife, survive three-hour Uno No Mercy matches with my family, and binge re-watch HBO's The Wire. I chose to actively, avoid writing.

That avoidance has been nagging me. Choosing joy and only joy has actually resulted in resentment and guilt. I told myself, I would do something, and I have not done it.

So now, I'm writing this rambling mess.

Stream of Consciousness

I speak to think and often write as I speak if you've made it this far; thanks for tolerating my word vomit, which aligns well with the title of this piece.

Kinetic: relating to or resulting from motion

It occurred to me that I prefer to live in a state of near-constant motion. This isn't news, but I wasn't fully aware of how this preference has manifested itself in my life. My best vacation memories are moments of stillness, often resulting in me falling asleep outside. These are moments of rest and quiet gratitude during otherwise feverish physical activity.

I fondly remember falling asleep on the deck of the Norwegian Sky in the middle of the Bahamas after last-minute babysitter arrangements and flight purchases; with my head resting on a rock, my feet by the fire, in the middle of Green Ridge State Forest after motorcycling through West Virginia and Western Maryland; day drunk on a beach chair in Key West after jet skiing around the island; and even briefly, with my arms crossed sitting on a cliff along the Pacific Coast Highway during an impromptu motorcycle trip.

The more I move, the happier I am, the more centered I feel, and the more likely I'll eventually find myself in a state of found zen, where I stop, appreciate the moment, and sometimes fall asleep.

This morning, I sat in the living room after walking the dog, and there was nothing I had to do. My family was still asleep, so I left and ran a small errand I'd been putting off. In doing so, when I received that aforementioned notification from Grammerly, no joy-laden activity was distracting me from the one I'd been most avoiding.

Write something dammit!


And so I have.

Hopefully, this exercise will result in renewed motivation to do what I say I will do. Use these brief moments to calm my rabid mind and find something of value within it.