Writing, Rocking Out, and Catching Trout

I slept through the profitable days of crypto yore, like I’m sure many others did too. Probably even some of you who are reading this now. And I did that in favor of mining something far less tangible than even encrypted binary money-data.

It wasn’t a conscious decision at the time. It was actually a series of decisions I’m glad I made because what I found is infinitely higher in value to me—happiness. If it seems like I’m being a bit hyperbolic, I won’t try to convince you otherwise. But since you’re already here, you might as well let me provide you with a sliver of context.

Happiness is something that, despite my sincerest efforts, eluded me for well over a decade. By my best estimates, I was in a severe depression from the age of 13 until I was nearly 30. Finding it has been a process that’s taken over half my life—and nearly took it all—but that’s a can of worms I’m still not ready to open.

But I am grateful that when things got really bad, I never had a problem pulling out a notebook and my favorite pen; or finding meditation in the rhythmical zen of fly fishing; or playing bass or guitar when the frustration and anguish linguistically incapacitated me. Those are still my three favorite things to do in the world. And they were catalytic in starting my healing process. I had no idea who I was or what I wanted. I knew abject failure. I knew disappointment, and shame. But I didn’t know myself or what I wanted out of life, or whether I wanted life at all. So I decided to just keep Writing, Rocking Out, and Catching Trout. At least if I died with a pen, fly rod or guitar in my hands, I’d die doing something I love. And that was my epiphany. Do what you love. If you love it, you’ll keep doing it, and eventually achieve a level of mastery that qualifies you to share it with others. Then they can tap into that same fulfillment and joy for themselves. If it saved my life, it’s powerful enough to save others.

I’ve always been a fairly private person, for myriad reasons. But over the past year or so, I’ve slowly warmed up to the idea of sharing some of the poetry, prose and songs inspired by these trials and tribulations (and more recently, some successes, too!). There is, of course, the catharsis one gets from emotionally unburdening, but that’s always felt more akin to an act of taking rather than giving. So I have done my best to wrap these extreme vulnerabilities in various stylistic devices, such that you might find them somewhat entertaining to read. I have already shared a portion of my work on Cent, nearly devoid of context, because I have no idea what to expect. I was just hoping to make a buck or two. But it brings tears to my eyes to feel my words resonate with someone else so deeply that they take time out of their day to tell me that. Or respond in prose also, which is a kindness so overwhelming I get dizzy and have to sit down.

In the coming days and weeks, I’ll be posting new photos of the original handwritten poems, and adding some context and anecdotes to accompany them. This little project of mine is still evolving, so I encourage anyone and all to respond with comments, critiques, and (especially) some handwritten prose of your own. Hope this beautiful day finds you well.