[{"content":"They ask me, \u0026ldquo;When can you start?\u0026rdquo;\nThe recruiter is on the phone with me. They just offered me a new job with twice the pay, doing more specific things within my niche. After chasing the quintessential Silicon Valley dream for over three years, this opportunity surpassed multiple expectations and metrics I’d set for myself. Though I\u0026rsquo;d been in the Bay Area for a year, this new job was the realization of what I\u0026rsquo;d always sought—a job replete with perks, pay, and growth potential.\nMy journey in the Bay Area started with a challenge. My initial days were consumed in the quest for that first foot-in-the-door job, which, while not ideal and far from my Silicon Valley aspiration, still gave me a foothold in this competitive terrain. But now, with this new offer, I was truly stepping into the world I\u0026rsquo;d dreamt of.\nIntoxicated by the high of a new job, In the corner of my mind, sat something else important.\nMy first year in the Bay Area was a constant struggle. Between trying to earn enough money, while also enriching my skills, time dissolved quickly. Having to make myself marketable in one of the most competitive industries, in a pool of the most talented professionals in the world. It proved to be as stressful as it was challenging.\nI would experience dozens of interviews and many rejections within that first year. Constantly swallowing what was left of my pride. I would push further to develop myself into someone who could survive this place.\nEventually, late in that first year in San Francisco, a job offer would come in at the last minute. With only about two months left of runway to live off, my savings had dried up months ago. The money I was earning driving for Lyft(Uber) was not enough to compete with the expenses. I was living off debt. A few credit cards were maxed out, while a few others I would be forced to default on in a few weeks, if I couldn\u0026rsquo;t find more income.\nWith that first job, I was able to earn enough. I took out a loan to consolidate the credit cards. I was able to maintain a reasonable lifestyle while making monthly payments. Albeit, slowly.\nI would respond to the recruiter, \u0026ldquo;I want to start Nov 13th.\u0026rdquo;\nThis would be roughly three weeks after I put in my notice. Accounting for a two weeks notice, in addition to 1 other week with no responsibility. This extra week is leveraged to invest in my mental health. I plan to attend a 5 day meditation retreat.\nWhile working I never wanted my \u0026lsquo;vacation\u0026rsquo; time to compete with the idea of a meditation retreat. Yet, there\u0026rsquo;s an unique energy in quitting a job. Something different to be gained in the time I\u0026rsquo;m spending. Perhaps there are new revelations in my life that extend beyond just enjoying a nice beach cocktail.\nAfter exploring many options in the bay area, I\u0026rsquo;d book a weekend retreat at a community called Ananda in Nevada City, California. There they would guide me through a three day weekend. It would include vegetarian meals, a place to stay, with an option to extend extra days. I choose to stay through Tuesday which would give me a great opportunity to apply what I\u0026rsquo;d learn on my own time.\nNevada City is situated slightly into the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains. For mid November, I\u0026rsquo;d need a few items for the trip. I had little to no provisions for camping with the cold nights. Despite knowing it would be a while before I\u0026rsquo;d see much money come in from the new job, I\u0026rsquo;d go shopping.\nBuying new things which I could barely afford, adding to the debt pile. Regardless my multiple years of discipline, I found myself compromising for the opportunity. I had now this collection of items; projected with an inflated sense of value.\nOf the items I bought, most where essentials that I could get long term use out off for a variety of camping trips. Rationalizing the purchases as things that would see a lot of mileage and be taken care of. A few of these items included, long warm socks, insulated underwear, backpack, knife, and also a fancy water bottle.\nThe retreat would prove to be an incredible opportunity. By the end of the 3 day guided portion, I was glad I had two more days. Meditating for 1 to 2 hours every few hours and eating vegetarian food really put my body, mind, and soul into an unfamiliar state of peace. By Sunday I wanted to hug trees. I felt so happy and free, like I was getting closer and closer to true bliss. Something was very different in me.\nAt the end of the weekend, a community elder would approach me late that evening, asking how I liked the program. I\u0026rsquo;d express feeling the wholeness of life. My desire to hug trees and considering eating plants everyday. A weight in my being had started to lift, however I knew I was only scratching the surface.\nThis man would smile, nodding to my details. He\u0026rsquo;d wait for me to full explain myself then adding a bit that has stuck with me ever since.\nHe tells me that our minds tend to be like a glass of pond water. Over time the silt will settle to the bottom of the glass. What appears to be a clean glass of water is dirty at the bottom. If we shake the glass a bit the silt will cloud the water, making it both apparent and easier to remove the filth. However, overtime as it settles back, we forget how much junk is still laying on the bottom.\nThis really resonated so deeply with me. I could see myself before this trip. My perspective was very clear and clean, but I had not begun to accept the impact of what work was needed to be done.\nThe tiny room I stayed in had a tiny shelf with a small collection of spiritual books. One of these books was disproportionately larger than the rest. It was Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramhansa Yogananda. I had been reading this book during the week. But after sitting idol flipping pages, I downloaded the audio version so I could walk, listen and hike.\nThe compound of Ananda had many miles of trials in all directions, which ran through the hills of the Sierra Nevadas. The mid November weather was brisk but not freezing. The sun would provide adequate warmth when trails broke through the trees.\nMy last afternoon at this location would be spent by myself hiking and listening to the Autobiography. I\u0026rsquo;d explore some 5 to 6 miles of trails. A distance that took me almost 3 hours one way. After reaching a certain duration I felt it best to turn around. Wanting to make it back in time for dinner. I\u0026rsquo;d sit down to meditate, drink water, eat a snack, and then begin my trek back to the compound.\nWith only a few thousand feet left from the compound entrance, I hear the dinner bell in the distance. I was tired, hot, and sweaty despite the cool autumn mountain air. Thirsty, I would reach to the side of my pack for my water bottle, but would discover it missing. I turn around to look behind me. Nothing. I dig through my backpack hoping I forgot where I stored it. But I already knew. It was missing, and I didn\u0026rsquo;t know where I\u0026rsquo;d lost it.\nI could feel an anger begin to swell inside me. A responsibility to the new expenses I could already barely afford now weighed heavy within my in ability to keep my shit together. I knew I had lost this item at some point on the trail behind me. But did I lose it 2 hours ago or 2 minutes ago. I had no idea. Perhaps someone will find it and return it, but also I knew it probably wouldn\u0026rsquo;t be found until days after I left.\nI decided to do the thing I wanted the least. I turned around. I decided to walk back out of the compound in hopes I could find my gear. Turning around I disappear back into the head of the trail I started earlier that day.\nAs the sound of the dinner bell fades away the further I went into the woods, a frustration in my mind grew louder. I\u0026rsquo;d feel a bit blame, watered with the bitter taste of overextending my finances. Not being accountable enough to hold the few things I\u0026rsquo;d invested in the future of my adventures.\nThe anger and resentment took a shape and weight of its own. To the point where I felt a deep sadness creep in. An inability to hold the boundaries of these thoughts. I found myself beginning to cry.\nQuickly followed by more guilt, more anger, now all directed to this vulnerability. Thinking to myself, I call myself out for wanting to cry over losing a water bottle.\nI\u0026rsquo;d come so far this week with the frequent meditation. Discovering a calmness I\u0026rsquo;d only dreamed possible. Yet now this small set back has me feeling more emotional than what felt mature for my time in life.\nMentally, I\u0026rsquo;d juggle between forcing gratitude for what I had and where i was. For a moment, it worked. I\u0026rsquo;d feel a natural peace, but It wouldn\u0026rsquo;t last long. Moments later I\u0026rsquo;d feel the deep urge to cry again, and once again it would be pushed down. Locked away to be ignored in a manor that years of conditioning created to deal with \u0026lsquo;weak\u0026rsquo; emotions.\nThen a new awareness was brought to the forefront. I observed not the physical emotion I was hiding from, but the amount of energy I was consuming to suppress it.\nSomething changed in me once again. I identified an opportunity to let go. To rethink what it was that this experience was trying to teach me.\nA moment passes, I feel once again the urge to cry. I stop in the midst of a narrow path of trees. This time I let go of the energy being spent to contain and hide.\nI begin to cry.\nThen, I begin to sob.\nTime would stop at this point, I doubt it was more than a few minutes, but it felt like weeks. I would no longer comprehend why I was I those woods, or what I was searching for. As tears filled my face, I\u0026rsquo;d start bawling. As if I was in those woods to bury a family pet, and perhaps I was there to bury something.\nImages of many moments in my life flipped through my mind. Like life flashing before my eyes, but full of many painful moments. Times where friends took advantage of me, times I burnt bridges, painful lessons of my youth, and failings of relationships. These scenes where numerous, confusing, conflicting, and also painful. I crumple to the ground due to the weight of the emotions pouring out.\nAfter sometime of this, I would regain my breath. I stopped having what I\u0026rsquo;d assume was partly a panic attack. Spitting the salty tears that had reached my lips and wiping away the ones still in my eyes. I can now see again.\nI look up at the tree line straddling the path. On a branch hanging from a tree a short distance away, I see my water bottle.\nComing through this narrow part of the path, It must have gotten snagged, and removed from the side of my pack. What should have been a feeling of relief was replaced with with another familiar urge to cry. I didn\u0026rsquo;t fight it.\nI surrendered.\nI\u0026rsquo;d go right back into funeral grade tears. Another eternity of time, and rounds of more flash backs would come up. Eventually I would collect myself, replacing the guilt and blame with gratitude. The sadness would still come back in waves, but they were never as intense. I would relinquish all efforts to stifle these releases. Now able to just feel the sadness without it crippling me emotionally.\nI get up. I grab the water bottle off the tree and turn back to the compound hopping get a bit to eat.\nI enter the dinning hall, and the first person I see is the elder I\u0026rsquo;d talked to days ago. Despite my efforts to calm down and relax myself, it was written all over my red face and bloodshot eyes. The amount of emotions on my mind could not be ignored or hidden.\nAs soon as the elder saw me the first words out of his mouth were, \u0026ldquo;You shook the glass really hard\u0026rdquo;.\nThose world shocked me like a lighting bolt to my heart. All the silt collected from my years of life that I had trained myself to ignore because I constantly wanted to see the glass as clear and pristine. Many times through out my life I would observe the filth and gunk, but wold develop emotional habits which would ensure it was forced to settle to the bottom.\nI\u0026rsquo;d cry heavy again. Once again burying another beloved pet into its shallow grave by myself.\nThis older man would give me a hug and tell me it\u0026rsquo;s OK to be sad, and it\u0026rsquo;s OK to grow.\nI find myself everyday exploring many different trails through the foothills of my own life. Completing these routes bring up various challenges along the way. I\u0026rsquo;ve learned refusal to accept the difficult aspects of these challenges doesn\u0026rsquo;t do me any favors. It\u0026rsquo;s rare these days for me to completely breakdown and cry like I did that day in the woods. Only has Ayahuasca or other deeper meditative states brought up such revelations through emotions.\nI think much of this is due to the fact I don\u0026rsquo;t hide from day to day emotional releases anymore. I try to embody compassion for the human experience I\u0026rsquo;m living. I know it\u0026rsquo;s easier on my soul to not fight what it wants to remove. Allowing the energy to pass through me and not feel like I\u0026rsquo;m less of a man because of it. Contrarily, I\u0026rsquo;m now able to navigate my logic with fewer emotional blocks. Enabling me to better navigate a head space where my true strength can manifest all the complexities of our world.\n","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/2022/07/01/bottle-of-water-a-story-of-forgotten-trauma/","summary":"\u003cp\u003eThey ask me, \u0026ldquo;When can you start?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe recruiter is on the phone with me. They just offered me a new job with twice the pay, doing more specific things within my niche. After chasing the quintessential Silicon Valley dream for over three years, this opportunity surpassed multiple expectations and metrics I’d set for myself. Though I\u0026rsquo;d been in the Bay Area for a year, this new job was the realization of what I\u0026rsquo;d always sought—a job replete with perks, pay, and growth potential.\u003c/p\u003e","title":"Bottle of Water -  A Story of Forgotten Trauma"},{"content":"Walking to work. My office for the next few weeks is a co-working space in Laureles, Medellín. The sky is blue and sunlight cuts between the branches that line the old streets. I\u0026rsquo;m excited about this new level of my adventure. This is my first international nomad experience. My commute is full of savoring the new environment after months of anticipation.\nThe newness of Colombia is as enriching as it is complicated. I quickly notice my lack of familiarity with basics of life. Social strategies my autopilot would have utilize are worthless. Simple things, like what the currency looks like, what ATMs will allow me to withdraw money, or where to find groceries have become time consuming uses of my mental energy. To top it off, I still know very little of the language.\nAs a blond haired blue eye man in this city, I know there is no amount of hiding the truth. I\u0026rsquo;m not from here. I am a gringo, and no amount of preparation will change that or allow me to blend in. Despite the obvious aspects of myself which I can not change, I try to understand and adapt as much as I can to appear less lost.\nI avoid typical tourist behaviors for Medellín which make it obvious I don\u0026rsquo;t know the norms. Such as wearing jeans over wearing shorts. Avoiding sandals, despite how warm it gets.\nDeep in the recess of my mind, I try to project an attitude and perspective that I\u0026rsquo;ve done this before. I project the idea that I\u0026rsquo;m experienced with this place. That I know where I am and where I\u0026rsquo;m going.\nOver the years of growth, one of the most important lessons was understanding eye contact. Locking eyes with strangers communicates a lot of importance in an instant that is hard or slow to logically convey. Colombia is one of those places where this skill has been so crucial. The people here have a reputation for starring. Unfazed by western conventions of this coming across as rude or violating.\nAs my walk continues, I make an effort to maintain my practice of locking eyes with the strangers I pass. Taking note of the non-verbal exchange I experience. Reading their subtle mannerisms and expressions. The message I would initially get is something along the lines of,\n\u0026ldquo;What are you doing here?\u0026rdquo;, echoed with confusion and curiosity throughout their face. One could construe this as a sense of apprehension or displeasure. I start to wonder if I\u0026rsquo;ll ever feel accepted here, as doubt consumes me. Encounters like this would happen multiple times a day. As the days went by, I knew I was missing something. Something human that would further the connections I knew I was missing.\nIt wouldn\u0026rsquo;t take me long to recognize an opportunity to add some fundamental elements to my Spanish. I would learn that a generic greeting was as simple as,\n\u0026ldquo;Buenas\u0026rdquo;.\nA condensed form of \u0026ldquo;Buenas Dias\u0026rdquo; or simply \u0026ldquo;how are you\u0026rdquo;.\nAn unfamiliar word. A sound that had little importance in my life was rehearsed. Practicing multiple times I feel better prepared.\nAnother day. More of these \u0026lsquo;passing-by\u0026rsquo; encounters with the locals occur. My eyes would lock with my new Paisa neighbor. Again I read their expression, and again I interpret what I see as apprehension and confusion. This time I speak up in my best Spanish and project one word,\n\u0026ldquo;Buneas\u0026rdquo;\nWhile not every time, most people would show a clear shift in the facial expressions and perceived attitudes. Changing the experience I was reading in the back of my mind.\nIn an instant, what was once interpreted as confusions and apprehensions, turns to compassion and understanding. Their eyes would shine with a light of being seen, and I would also feel the same. It would feel less trivial of a connection than most casual exchanges I\u0026rsquo;ve experienced in the past.\nA genuine smile grows on their face, releasing any indicators of indifference. Now awash with warmth and regard to well-being. An enthusiastic response would come in the form of returning the same phrase,\n\u0026ldquo;Buenas!\u0026rdquo;\nThere it was. My first connection that transcend the barriers of language. Barriers I had set in mind. I observed something I didn\u0026rsquo;t expect in that moment. Human connection has a desire to shine through any resistance.\nThe connection would be felt on a deep level, one I\u0026rsquo;m still processing. Perhaps it\u0026rsquo;s intense for me because the language barrier is such an intimidating block for me. But likely it\u0026rsquo;s my sudden awareness that conneciton is not exclusive to the words we use, but the words we consider using for the people we find imporant.\nOver the first weeks and month in this city I would continue these interactions. While not every reaction was the same, I would get more and more warm responses. Learning more words, and sampling the little lessons these people have to share.\n","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/2022/01/14/290/","summary":"\u003cp\u003eWalking to work. My office for the next few weeks is a co-working space in Laureles, Medellín. The sky is blue and sunlight cuts between the branches that line the old streets. I\u0026rsquo;m excited about this new level of my adventure. This is my first international nomad experience. My commute is full of savoring the new environment after months of anticipation.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe newness of Colombia is as enriching as it is complicated.  I quickly notice my lack of familiarity with basics of life. Social strategies my autopilot would have utilize are worthless. Simple things, like what the currency looks like, what ATMs will allow me to withdraw money, or where to find groceries have become time consuming uses of my mental energy. To top it off, I still know very little of the language.\u003c/p\u003e","title":"First Days in Colombia"},{"content":"I observe a world where the only thing we can guarantee is nothing will be the same. I think I enjoy this chaos nature.\nIt wasn\u0026rsquo;t something I always embraced. I still observe my tendency to control. That last bit of effort to make things feel as if they\u0026rsquo;ll be better once I decide how it should be.\nI\u0026rsquo;m realizing I miss out a lot on life when I do this. Protecting myself from the pain or struggles gets exhausting. Ironically, I realize it would have been easier to show up for the lesson and take the bruises.\nThe ego creates an interesting barrier for us.\nResistance. It comes in many shapes and sizes.\nI had not been writing the stories I wanted to tell for a while. I want to finish the pages I have written about adventures in Colombia. Yet, those aren\u0026rsquo;t the stories that are coming to me. I know they\u0026rsquo;ll be good when they\u0026rsquo;re done, but why rush an important message.\nCurrently I am reminded of things from years back, buried deep. Things I thought I\u0026rsquo;d completely forgotten about.\nWriting is a lot like listening. You don\u0026rsquo;t really get to choose the content your working with. At least not for me. It comes to you, ready or not. Over time you learn to work best with what you have. Art develops. And if your patient, you finally make sense of yourself along with those you desire to interact with.\n","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/2021/11/08/things-are-changing/","summary":"\u003cp\u003eI observe a world where the only thing we can guarantee is nothing will be the same. I think I enjoy this chaos nature.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt wasn\u0026rsquo;t something I always embraced. I still observe my tendency to control. That last bit of effort to make things feel as if they\u0026rsquo;ll be better once I decide how it should be.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI\u0026rsquo;m realizing I miss out a lot on life when I do this. Protecting myself from the pain or struggles gets exhausting. Ironically, I realize it would have been easier to show up for the lesson and take the bruises.\u003c/p\u003e","title":"Things are changing."},{"content":"A man walks in front of me. Blocking my path forward, his intent to deliver his message is clear. Wearing no shirt, his skin is tanned and wrinkled from the many months and years he\u0026rsquo;s spent in the sun. Covered in dirt, likely from going without a shower for days from sleeping in the street. His posture and stature is bent forward as if he could collapse any moment. He motions an empty hand to his mouth, and in English he opens his mouth with the few teeth he has left to say one word,\n\u0026ldquo;Hungry\u0026rdquo;\nI would assess this man to be 60 years old, but likely he\u0026rsquo;s much younger. A by-product of the rapid aging the street has inflicted on him. I do not know his story, yet I see individuals all over the world experiencing a similar accumulation of unfortunate suffering.\nIn Nicaragua, I\u0026rsquo;ve been exposed to this familiar scenario across new demographics. Experiencing similar encounters with women, men, and children. Young boys and girls no older than 8.\n\u0026ldquo;Hungry\u0026rdquo;\nEvery time I stare at this level of suffering in the eye, I struggle mentally. Conflicted with how I make sense of this reality.\nThere\u0026rsquo;s no winning for me here, I leave the situation a little more empty in my heart despite the way I carry myself.\nI get off easy sometimes, projecting apathy. I refuse to engage, avoid eye contact, and maintain an indifference. Not accepting any responsibility, they leave me alone. A few shallow and defeated last requests in Spanish fade as I move out of earshot. Words which I don\u0026rsquo;t fully understand, but comprehend as some last minutes details to further communicate their plight. As I walk off, they disappear from my world, but not without me taking a piece of them with me.\nAn awareness of my privilege sets in, and I start to drown in guilt. I see that I could have helped that one person this time, but also see that I can\u0026rsquo;t help that person every day. Nor could I ever satisfy all these requests. Being approached at least 5 if not 8 times a day. I\u0026rsquo;ve trained myself over the years to normalize the observation of this suffering in the street in hope to minimize the weight of discomfort it causes me.\nI know feeding this man solves one problem for one person one time. Furthermore, I know that if I made a habit of responding to these requests, I would run out of money to feed myself. My own income sources are currently uncertain.\nThen there is the next man, child, or person who needs food, money or whatever.\nFor a moment, I wonder what they would do in my situation if the roles were reversed. I catch myself over investing in a struggle that isn\u0026rsquo;t my problem. Asking myself the same question. How do we fix this?\nA bottomless question to a complex problem.\nLife is structured in a way where we are the sum of the choices we make. Many people are incapable of, or never learned how to make good choices. At least a number of good choices to cancel out all the bad ones.\nThere are many of reasons why this could be, but many of those factors are things we were born into and can not control. Sometimes we get lucky, leveraging the few opportunities we have access to in our environment.\nWhy am I not this sunburn, shirtless, dirty man telling anyone I\u0026rsquo;ve never seen before that I\u0026rsquo;m hungry?\nWhy am I on this side of the situation?\nWhat am I supposed to be doing to help?\nWhy do I feel such responsibility to this problem?\nWriting this, I find myself sitting in front of a hot meal. Which I\u0026rsquo;ve bought myself, with money I know is waiting for me. Looking at my food as I take bite after bite, wondering what I did to deserve this. I know the work I did and the sacrifices I made to get here. But why me?\nMy thoughts sit on the guilt. But they also shift. I remember the counter experience I\u0026rsquo;ve faced.\nThe times I helped those who\u0026rsquo;ve asked, and the times I\u0026rsquo;ve offered what I could. In those times my charity was perceived as an invention to negotiate. At that moment, my solution is never enough.\nWhat was a request for some food has become a request for more food or different food. The parameters change suddenly. An escalation of the struggle, emerges with new details. As they also need food for their baby, they need money for their family, or medication for their mother. My attempt to solve has dug me into a bigger pit of responsibility, and I\u0026rsquo;m further from solving the problem than I was before.\nI\u0026rsquo;m no longer a person helping them, but the solution to all the problems.\nIt\u0026rsquo;s becoming clearer I\u0026rsquo;m not their solution, and nothing I can do in this very moment will solve anything. Not long term.\nI start to take a complete turn of perspective. I start to ask myself, what is in it for me?\nI\u0026rsquo;ve discovered my sincerity is being weaponized. Providing me with an opportunity to feel better about myself by paying my way out of these feelings. Good, I just gave this guy money. Now I don\u0026rsquo;t have to feel bad.\nThis doesn\u0026rsquo;t make me feel good over time either, as years latter their struggle won\u0026rsquo;t have improved, and likely nothing was solved other than temporary numbing my own sadness.\n","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/2021/11/08/fatiga-por-compasion/","summary":"\u003cp\u003eA man walks in front of me. Blocking my path forward, his intent to deliver his message is clear. Wearing no shirt, his skin is tanned and wrinkled from the many months and years he\u0026rsquo;s spent in the sun. Covered in dirt, likely from going without a shower for days from sleeping in the street. His posture and stature is bent forward as if he could collapse any moment. He motions an empty hand to his mouth, and in English he opens his mouth with the few teeth he has left to say one word,\u003c/p\u003e","title":"Fatiga por Compasión"},{"content":"It\u0026rsquo;s barely 8pm, but here I am, laying in bed trying to sleep. I\u0026rsquo;m covered in sweat, occasionally being bitten by unidentified insects. The air, so thick with heat, makes it challenging to breath.\nMy bed for the night is in a guestroom in the back of a typical family home in Moyogalpa, Nicaragua. This tiny town sits on the west side of an island formed by two volcanos in the Lake of Nicaragua. The island is called Ometepe, which in Nahuatl means \u0026ldquo;Two Mountains\u0026rdquo;.\nI\u0026rsquo;m in bed at this time because there is nothing much going on in this small town on a Monday night. My room is pretty simple, a bed, a small fan, and a bathroom. Laying here, I mentally struggle with discomfort. I realize sleeping will not be easy for me.\nSpoiled by many modern amenities, I find myself a bit annoyed. As the fan blows the warm air around my room, giving me slight relief, I continue to wonder how this environment will ever be comfortable. It\u0026rsquo;s about this time the power goes out. My fan, the last bit of luxury I had, turns off.\nMy phone illuminates to signal it is no longer charging, and with it, the few lights outside the tiny grouping of houses go out. I instantly revisit my thoughts of loathing. Lamenting for not appreciating the fan.\nIt doesn\u0026rsquo;t take many moments for the air to thicken more and the sweat to feel like a shower. I have to leave this room. I put on some cloths and sit in the chair outside my door in the small courtyard. The night air is by no means cool, but it is a refreshing shift.\nWith the power out, the buzz and hum of electronics, is replaced with the sounds of stray dogs howling in the streets. I look up to the sky. As my eyes adjust to the dark, I start to see stars. But then I see more stars. And more. Before I know it, the sky is shinning with millions of sparkly dots.\nI take a moment to be grateful for where I am. I try to acknowledge my momentary lapse of reason around a slight struggle many people accept as a normal life. Problems that provide no solutions other than waiting for your situation to improve or at least normalize. After almost an hour of watching these stars and thanking the universe for the many gifts I\u0026rsquo;ve been given, I reluctantly decide to go lay back down in my hot room.\nBefore I can take off my cloths, the heat fills my nose and the sweet washes over me again. I lay down with the sheet far removed. I thank the bed, the pillow, and my host for providing me with what I have at this moment. Closing my eyes, I try to sleep. Still very uncomfortable. I open my eyes one last time. As if to thank the powerless fan, idling in the corner. And as if on cue, I hear a click and a small light in the distance shines from my window.\nThe fan starts revving back up. I\u0026rsquo;m greeted with the most refreshing air. I chuckle to myself, realizing that it\u0026rsquo;s not any better than it was before. Yet, my awareness of the little things was a little stronger. I know, I\u0026rsquo;m thankful for my fan now.\nMy adventure was inspired by the realization that I didn\u0026rsquo;t need most of the things which I had, nor I thought I needed. Many items, kept for their own essentialness over the year, only to become lost, broken, stolen, or forgotten. I keep revisiting this idea of working with less in many abstract ways. Be it fewer things, people, time, or energy. In all contexts, the concept returns over and over.\nI\u0026rsquo;ve gotten to see a way of life that on paper would sound terrible to many people. Requiring the fortiture of many amenities most require for a comfortable life. But as I\u0026rsquo;m learning, the things we keep aren\u0026rsquo;t as valuable as the things we\u0026rsquo;re able to give up.\nI have to stop myself from being in a hurry. Bad habits of the past. Learning more that struggle can be enjoyed as a time to count the important things that are there. At least while we still have them.\n","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/2021/10/22/first-night-in-ometepe-nicaragua/","summary":"\u003cp\u003eIt\u0026rsquo;s barely 8pm, but here I am, laying in bed trying to sleep. I\u0026rsquo;m covered in sweat, occasionally being bitten by unidentified insects. The air, so thick with heat, makes it challenging to breath.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMy bed for the night is in a guestroom in the back of a typical family home in Moyogalpa, Nicaragua. This tiny town sits on the west side of an island formed by two volcanos in the Lake of Nicaragua. The island is called Ometepe, which in Nahuatl means  \u0026ldquo;Two Mountains\u0026rdquo;.\u003c/p\u003e","title":"First Night in Ometepe, Nicaragua"},{"content":"If you\u0026rsquo;ve spent any length of time with me over the past few months you already knew. It\u0026rsquo;s been a very complicated decision that I\u0026rsquo;ve given a lot of thought. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t easy.\nI had an amazing boss, great pay, benefits, downtown office with snacks (precovid). The ideal dream job, I saw for myself in San Francisco. Living the tech life I had envisioned for so long.\nIt wasn\u0026rsquo;t given to me. It was a struggle and fight to get to this point. I sacrificed a lot, spending so much time and money to improve my skills and experience needed to be marketable. It took a while, and a few times I didn\u0026rsquo;t think I was ever going to make it in the bay area. Eventually, I brought myself up to a level where I was capable of working with some of the most brilliant minds I\u0026rsquo;ve ever encountered.\nFor now, I\u0026rsquo;m not going to be pursuing a new job in IT.\nI\u0026rsquo;m sure I\u0026rsquo;ll work in some way with technology as I have large skill set there, but I\u0026rsquo;m not looking to find a 9 to 5 employer anytime soon.\nI\u0026rsquo;ve saved enough to backpack through Central, South America, and eventually Asia, for a little while. I\u0026rsquo;m planning to live frugally while I manage some online business projects. If I\u0026rsquo;m not stupid with money I should have enough funds and time to really discover myself. Free from distractions.\nFor most of my career it felt like the only thing that was important was how much can I learn, earn, and own. Over the past few years, I\u0026rsquo;ve found I\u0026rsquo;m way more interested in how much I can connect, save, reduce, and create. Not just creating things but also experiences. Discovering ways to capture those moments that are impactful are relatable to the human experience. The moments where life feels real.\nI want travel, and to share the magic I see in the world. Living a life where adventure is constantly finding me. Trusting the universe to deliver musings worthy of sharing and capable of making the connections I desire.\nI\u0026rsquo;m learning more about my planet than I\u0026rsquo;d ever imagine. Being a citizen of this world. One who refuses to be restricted to the borders, language, politics, cultures, and dogmas I was born into. The variety of this life is indefinite, once you think you know anything you realize you know nothing. It\u0026rsquo;s important to stay humble as there are plenty of awkward lessons to absorb.\nI can\u0026rsquo;t help but feel guilt for surrendering the opportunity I\u0026rsquo;ve had with this job for the past 3.5 years. I\u0026rsquo;m honored to have been a part of such a great family and culture. Yet the ego still remembers all the pain, doubt, and uncertainty I committed to get here. In way, it\u0026rsquo;s offended I would consider forfeiting those efforts.\nI\u0026rsquo;m getting over this doubt slowly. In fact, I\u0026rsquo;m pretty excited to start my new life. Focusing on those things where I get the greatest reward for the least amount of energy committed.\nI still don\u0026rsquo;t have all the answers or know really how well this experience will go. But I think that\u0026rsquo;s the point.\n","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/2021/09/02/i-quit-my-job-today/","summary":"\u003cp\u003eIf you\u0026rsquo;ve spent any length of time with me over the past few months you already knew. It\u0026rsquo;s been a very complicated decision that I\u0026rsquo;ve given a lot of thought. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t easy.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI had an amazing boss, great pay, benefits, downtown office with snacks (precovid). The ideal dream job, I saw for myself in San Francisco. Living the tech life I had envisioned for so long.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt wasn\u0026rsquo;t given to me. It was a struggle and fight to get to this point. I sacrificed a lot, spending so much time and money to improve my skills and experience needed to be marketable. It took a while, and a few times I didn\u0026rsquo;t think I was ever going to make it in the bay area. Eventually, I brought myself up to a level where I was capable of working with some of the most brilliant minds I\u0026rsquo;ve ever encountered.\u003c/p\u003e","title":"I quit my job today"},{"content":"One night in Kansas City, I\u0026rsquo;d made a trip to a restaurant on the way back home to pick up dinner. I parked in the parking lot and walked in to get my order. As I returned to my car with my acquired meal I got into my drivers seat.\nAs I was getting in and as I reach to put on my seat belt, I experienced an odd event occuing in the corner of my eye. I observed what felt like my car rolling forward.\nI slam on the breaks to discover I wasn\u0026rsquo;t rolling forward. I didn\u0026rsquo;t even have the car engine on yet. It was the car next to me.\nIt was rolling backwards into traffic.\nEven though I didn\u0026rsquo;t know what was happening, I kind of observed what happened as it happend. The driver of this car had gotten out with the car in neutral, shut the door, and walked off without giving the car one notice.\nOther than me, the only other person who noticed what was happening was the elder lady in the passenger\u0026rsquo;s seat. She realized as quickly as I did what was happening. I could see the panic on her face in that moment. She yells in a faint voice that no one can hear from outside the shut car.\nThe car being on a gradual slope is increasing in speed as its aims for the busy street behind it.\nI realized in an instant I had to do something. I jump out of my car hollering at the driver as she walks off to the front of the store. She\u0026rsquo;s either ignoring me or more oblivious than I\u0026rsquo;d thought.\nI start running around to the driver\u0026rsquo;s door as my only option to help was to get into this random moving car and try to stop it. The driver still has no idea. I make eye contact with the older passenger who mouths one word, \u0026ldquo;Help\u0026rdquo;.\nOpening the door, the elder lady in a very thick un-identifiable accent says over and over \u0026ldquo;thank you\u0026rdquo; while starting to sob and shake with fear. I get into this car unfamiliar with any of its layout, apply the breaks, and dive it back into its slot.\nThe driver walks back asking what the hell is going on with a look of suspicion and annoyance. After observing me getting out of her parked car. I explain the situation, car being left in neutral to roll into traffic. All without calling her an idiot. It would sound as bizarre to hear myself explain as it was to experience.\nI didn\u0026rsquo;t argue or discuss. I just left figuring her older passenger would update her on the account of her own ignorance.\nI left that situation really confused, annoyed, and without much closure other than the reassurance the escalation of tragedy was avoided.\nIn life a lot of people will miss your intention and desire. They\u0026rsquo;ll pay attention the moment your done with the hard parts. Then find someway to hold you to their precived understanding of your actions.\nThey won\u0026rsquo;t always be right of how they see you, but ultimately the thing that matters is how you showed up and did the things that mattered. This is what makes the most difference in the world.\n","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/2021/07/19/that-night-for-diner-in-kansas-city/","summary":"\u003cp\u003eOne night in Kansas City, I\u0026rsquo;d made a trip to a restaurant on the way back home to pick up dinner. I parked in the parking lot and walked in to get my order.  As I returned to my car with my acquired meal I got into my drivers seat.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs I was getting in and as I reach to put on my seat belt, I experienced an odd event occuing in the corner of my eye. I observed what felt like my car rolling forward.\u003c/p\u003e","title":"That night for dinner in Kansas City"},{"content":"The youngest I remember an interest in baseball, I was 7. I was never that into it I guess. I liked collecting the baseball cards and was intrigued to understand the stats even though I never really did. I was more curious about the sport than passionate, but I still loved to go to a live game.\nAround the mid 90\u0026rsquo;s my Dad would take me to see the Shreveport Captains play at Fair Grounds Field. It was a pretty awesome memory. I\u0026rsquo;d start asking myself questions and that turned to asking my dad questions.\nCan we sit at the top of the bleachers?\nCan we get peanuts and crackers jacks?\nWhen will these guys play the Yankees?\nHe\u0026rsquo;d explain to me they\u0026rsquo;d never play the Yankees as they were a \u0026lsquo;farm\u0026rsquo; team for a professional baseball team way out somewhere in CALIFORNIA.\nHis vague detail and subtle annoyed emphasis gave it a sort of hinted mystery. What was this far off California land? Why have we never accidentally ended up there? It must be so far no one dare ever need to go to this hidden lost place. For the most part these feelings and thoughts where kind of buried and ignored. I never gave them much more of a thought or care. It would stem to place California as a very remote and far off land that \u0026ldquo;little is known off\u0026rdquo;; at least with regard to the culture in my mid 90\u0026rsquo;s childhood family of Northern Louisiana.\nFast forward about 20 years. I\u0026rsquo;ve been living in San Francisco for about 6 months. Enjoying a beer at one of my new favorite bars in my new neighborhood. That bar was \u0026lsquo;Mad Dog in the Fog\u0026rsquo; in Lower Height. I went to the curb to smoke a joint where a random old man joined me at some point. This was one of the several times I\u0026rsquo;d learn the responsibility of wearing a Giants hat in SF. You are guaranteed a conversation about baseball. If you don\u0026rsquo;t know shit about whats going on in tonight\u0026rsquo;s game, others will know. You\u0026rsquo;ll feel the weight of the unanticipated responsibility you didn\u0026rsquo;t realize you consented too. Alas, I was in another conversation about baseball.\nShortly after failing to answer this mans inquiry about who\u0026rsquo;s pitching tonight. It quickly changed to \u0026lsquo;Where are you from\u0026rsquo;. After responding with \u0026lsquo;Shreveport\u0026rsquo; the man lit up and said, \u0026lsquo;Ah\u0026hellip; The Shreveport Captains\u0026quot;. i was shocked. So many memories came flooding back. I don\u0026rsquo;t think I\u0026rsquo;ve even talked about the Captains once since the 15 or so years I\u0026rsquo;ve been out of North Louisiana. Yet here I was in the middle of San Francisco with the topic front of the conversation with some random person.\nI ask, \u0026ldquo;How the hell do you know the Captains?\u0026rdquo;\nThe man would reply, \u0026ldquo;Oh they where a farm league for the Giants back in the 90\u0026rsquo;s.\u0026rdquo;\nI\u0026rsquo;m right back in that moment with my Dad. Telling me about that far off land of California. In a moment I\u0026rsquo;m still that kid. I\u0026rsquo;m still so far away from this unknown place. Then in an instant the reality of life comes flooding back. I see what it really is. I\u0026rsquo;m now in that \u0026lsquo;some town out in California\u0026rsquo;.\nNot only have I\u0026rsquo;ve found something unique about my past that is relatable to this new place, but also overwhelmed with a sense of having arrived. An experience where my growth was unavoidable.\nBaseball is a magical thing. How else can a game that is mostly pretty boring still drive the imagination of our young. Creating bonding moments shared between and across generations. Providing random strangers from random backgrounds an instant point of common ground.\n","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/2021/05/22/some-farm-team-for-california-a-story-of-baseball-and-recognizing-growth/","summary":"\u003cp\u003eThe youngest I remember an interest in baseball, I was 7. I was never that into it I guess. I liked collecting the baseball cards and was intrigued to understand the stats even though I never really did. I was more curious about the sport than passionate, but I still loved to go to a live game.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAround the mid 90\u0026rsquo;s my Dad would take me to see the Shreveport Captains play at Fair Grounds Field. It was a pretty awesome memory. I\u0026rsquo;d start asking myself questions and that turned to asking my dad questions.\u003c/p\u003e","title":"Some Farm Team for California - A story of baseball and recognizing growth"},{"content":"Growing up as a kid in Louisiana I knew dirt. I played in the mud and swamps of the surrounding bayous. I remember experiencing curious thoughts. Wondering how old this land was. I could feel its age. The observation was undeniable despite my youth and nativity.\nAs I would grow older I\u0026rsquo;d learn that earth had been there for a very long time. While the amount of time is not really known, one could be safe saying 3 million years at the minimal for any land in North America. (https://www.britannica.com/place/North-America/The-lowlands))\nHawaii island is a different story. The land mass is so new in land creation terms. The big island being the newest islands of Hawaii reaches at most 300 thousand years. (https://www.mauihawaii.org/how-old-hawaii/)\nWhile still a large swath of time that is hard to imagine, it\u0026rsquo;s a process that still continues today. One can experience fields of lava varying from hundreds, to tens, to even a couple of years old.While still a large swath of time that is hard to imagine, it\u0026rsquo;s a process that still continues today. One can experience fields of lava varying from hundreds, to tens, to even a couple of years old.\nAt first glance of fresh lava fields you see a baron and apocalyptic scene. Large lush jungle forest abruptly carved by fire, rivers of lava pouring into the sea, extending its territory. This can be experienced as recently as two years ago. Cooled and suspended in time.\nhttps://youtu.be/8Spz_Oj4OUo\nThe torching and burning of everything in it\u0026rsquo;s path is easy to see once on these lava fields.\nHawaii is a beautiful place. This beauty comes from its youth and energy. Yet, with as much of its appeal to the eye it is is just as dangerous as it is beautiful.\nhttps://youtu.be/AFdVrk2pRhY\nThe new land comes taxed. Producing sharp jagged land, meeting an aggressive and strong ocean. Both combine to create a powerful battle. It\u0026rsquo;s at this edge where one can experience the forces that have been taking shape for all land of the earth since the beginning of time.\n","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/2021/04/24/hawaii-island-explored/","summary":"\u003cp\u003eGrowing up as a kid in Louisiana I knew dirt. I played in the mud and swamps of the surrounding bayous. I remember experiencing curious thoughts. Wondering how old this land was. I could feel its age. The observation was undeniable despite my youth and nativity.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\n\u003cdiv class=\"gallery gallery-cols-5\"\u003e\u003cfigure\u003e\n    \u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" src=\"/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/hawaii%5Fvista%5Fgreensands2-1024x485.jpg\"/\u003e \n\u003c/figure\u003e\n\u003cfigure\u003e\n    \u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" src=\"/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/hawaii%5Fbeach%5Frichards-1024x485.jpg\"/\u003e \n\u003c/figure\u003e\n\u003cfigure\u003e\n    \u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" src=\"/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/hawaii%5Fsouthpoint3-1024x485.jpg\"/\u003e \n\u003c/figure\u003e\n\u003cfigure\u003e\n    \u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" src=\"/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/hawaii%5Fpohoiki2-1024x485.jpg\"/\u003e \n\u003c/figure\u003e\n\u003cfigure\u003e\n    \u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" src=\"/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/hawaii%5Fsouthpoint%5Fjeep%5Fsunset%5Fme-1024x485.jpg\"/\u003e \n\u003c/figure\u003e\n\u003cfigure\u003e\n    \u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" src=\"/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/hawaii%5Fbeach%5Fpahoa-1024x485.jpg\"/\u003e \n\u003c/figure\u003e\n\u003cfigure\u003e\n    \u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" src=\"/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/hawaii%5Fsouthpoint2-1024x485.jpg\"/\u003e \n\u003c/figure\u003e\n\u003c/div\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eAs I would grow older I\u0026rsquo;d learn that earth had been there for a very long time. While the amount of time is not really known, one could be safe saying 3 million years at the minimal for any land in North America. (\u003ca href=\"https://www.britannica.com/place/North-America/The-lowlands\"\u003ehttps://www.britannica.com/place/North-America/The-lowlands)\u003c/a\u003e)\u003c/p\u003e","title":"Hawaii Island Explored"},{"content":"Lack of community and contentment has been my greatest challenge over the past year. While the pandemic fueled a lot of this, deciding to not renew my SF lease and nomad with a vague plan didn’t help either.\nThis road can be pretty lonely. Meeting amazing people over and over helps. You do develop rapport deeply and quickly. Yet, you’re constantly saying goodbye, crashing off the high. It’s the price for sharing a piece of life with so many people who are inspiring, highly motivated, and full of energy. Then the moments go by where there are few people to fill the void. Finding moments where your only retreat is what stillness you can find in the mind.\nI find myself having to readjust to an inner wold that is much quieter and not as rich with the same energy. There in lives the struggle of every doubt you could throw at yourself. Real growth comes from fighting through these negative moments. Being still with yourself is your greatest challenge. It echos the hardest lessons you’ve been ignoring for so long. While it’s easy to get distracted in this work, adventure begins to solve these kinds of things.\nThe choices and risks I’m taking to align with my true gifts continue to bring quality people and ideas into my life. My time in Hawaii has proven to be a great educator. Of the many words Hawaii has taught me, one of the most common I hear and see is “Ohana”. Ohana, which means family; tends to carry with it a deeper bond; an extension of community that extends beyond blood.\n\u0026ldquo;Loneliness doesn’t have to be a dark place synonymous with being alone. It should be the place you refresh before returning to the community to deliver the gifts you’ve enriched.\u0026rdquo;\nMy ohana has brought me closer to understanding what gifts I have to provide, what I need, and what I deserve from a community. Along the way realizing it still doesn’t have as much to do with anyone as much as it has to do with the way I witness myself.\nThings and the importance of said things, tend to get buried in the volume of other desires. Taken for granted is the awareness of what essentials we really need.\nLearning that my community is always wherever I am. Loneliness doesn’t have to be a dark place synonymous with being alone. It should be the place you refresh before returning to the community to deliver the gifts you’ve enriched. Regardless if it’s in Hawaii, Colombia, Indonesia, Portugal or any other beautiful place on the earth.\nYou won’t always be successful at finding the people you need.\nBut sometimes you get lucky, and the people you need find you.\nPerhaps the real lesson is learning to trust yourself.\nTrusting you’ll always find those moments.\n","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/2021/04/21/ohana-hawaii-teaches-me-about-community/","summary":"\u003cp\u003eLack of community and contentment has been my greatest challenge over the past year. While the pandemic fueled a lot of this, deciding to not renew my SF lease and nomad with a vague plan didn’t help either.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThis road can be pretty lonely. Meeting amazing people over and over helps. You do develop rapport deeply and quickly. Yet, you’re constantly saying goodbye, crashing off the high. It’s the price for sharing a piece of life with so many people who are inspiring, highly motivated, and full of energy. Then the moments go by where there are few people to fill the void. Finding moments where your only retreat is what stillness you can find in the mind.\u003c/p\u003e","title":"Ohana —  Hawaii Teaches Me About Community"},{"content":"","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/home/blog/","summary":"","title":"Blog"},{"content":"","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/photogrophy/","summary":"","title":"Photogrophy"},{"content":"","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/writing/","summary":"","title":"Writing"},{"content":"I spent months thinking about this clip. Initially I was taken back by how great a response KR gives. Overtime I became obsessed. Why was this answer so profound to me. To the Audience. To Stephen Colbert. Why after many weeks of replaying it in my head do I still find myself re-watching. Every time finding a new sense of peace.\nWatch this Short clip:\nhttps://youtu.be/7c2olMFEhK8\nThe audience and even Colbert are left speechless. Keanu\u0026rsquo;s response was profoundly sobering, softly dark in its reality. Comforting, and then humorous again. It was like we spent a long time on a trip that lasted a few seconds. He manages to place the focus not on his own opinion of what we will experience upon death, but the experience of those who stay alive.\nI’m fascinated with the effectiveness illustrated in this example. It’s crazy relatable. Keanu takes us out of the debate about what specifically happens personally upon death. We’re now acknowledging all those important people we’ve lost, acknowledging our own morality. Simultaneously realizing or feeling that everything is ok.\nComing from a true place of self. Keanu like most of us have lost a few people who were important to us. I still think about those people a lot.\nWhat goes beyond the impact of this answer for me is the manor in which it’s navigated. How do I enrich the way I listen to questions, while also having a minimalist answer?\n","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/2021/03/26/keanu-reevess-perfect-answer/","summary":"\u003cp\u003eI spent months thinking about this clip. Initially I was taken back by how great a response KR gives. Overtime I became obsessed. Why was this answer so profound to me. To the Audience. To Stephen Colbert. Why after many weeks of replaying it in my head do I still find myself re-watching. Every time finding a new sense of peace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWatch this Short clip:\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca href=\"https://youtu.be/7c2olMFEhK8\"\u003ehttps://youtu.be/7c2olMFEhK8\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe audience and even Colbert are left speechless. Keanu\u0026rsquo;s response was profoundly sobering, softly dark in its reality. Comforting, and then humorous again. It was like we spent a long time on a trip that lasted a few seconds. He manages to place the focus not on his own opinion of what we will experience upon death, but the experience of those who stay alive.\u003c/p\u003e","title":"Keanu Reeves’s Perfect Answer"},{"content":"As a budding digital nomad traveler, who’s closing in on their last two weeks as a full time San Franciscan. I’m having to part with most of my things. Many of these things are obvious like extra shoes, extra blankets, furniture. What catches you off guard are the things you absently assumed would always be there.\nMy brother hand painted this meditating alien on a canvas as a Christmas gift in 2012. I had it on my wall in a few places in Kansas City, and once I left KC it joined an exclusive seat with a few other items on the trip to San Francisco. Over the years it’s been a staple on my walls and brought me a bit of peace. Reminding me to relax and not take life so seriously.\nI had been considering donating or selling the painting but felt I wouldn’t find anyone who’d appreciate it the same.\nAfter finishing a routine Diamond Height Safeway trip down the hill, I began the shuffle back up the 40 or so steps to Opalo Ln ally towards Gold Mine hill. Typical of these strolls through the ally, my eyes would glance over all the details. So many curious nick knacks, plants, and decorations engulf this ally. Enjoying the familiar yet varying array of colors, nature, and tranquility as I frequently do. The past few weeks, I’ve started to notice an awareness growing each time through. A sense like something was missing.\nI started to notice this little bare piece of fence behind a couple of small trees. What was once the feeling of ‘something missing’ starting feeling more like a sense of contribution that was possible.\nThen it all kind of clicked. I knew what I needed to do.\nAfter setting this canvas in this spot it almost felt like something in me settled. With it a calmness gently starting to grow. As if the universe was proud of me for finally moving closer to getting “it”. Despite the discomfort and itch of loss I’d been reeling in as I start to purge everything, I felt one more small step towards freedom.\nPerhaps overtime the elements wont be gentle to this painting. It does seem to be housed pretty well tho. I’m really looking forward to my first trip back to San Francisco. I’ll come back to Gold Mine hill and take the stroll back through Opalo Ln ally in hopes that the little Buddha alien is finding enlightenment by his bodhi tree.\n","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/2021/02/05/things-repurposed-for-the-universe-a-spiritual-lesson-of-minimalism/","summary":"\u003cp\u003eAs a budding digital nomad traveler, who’s closing in on their last two weeks as a full time San Franciscan. I’m having to part with most of my things. Many of these things are obvious like extra shoes, extra blankets, furniture. What catches you off guard are the things you absently assumed would always be there.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMy brother hand painted this meditating alien on a canvas as a Christmas gift in 2012. I had it on my wall in a few places in Kansas City, and once I left KC it joined an exclusive seat with a few other items on the trip to San Francisco. Over the years it’s been a staple on my walls and brought me a bit of peace. Reminding me to relax and not take life so seriously.\u003c/p\u003e","title":"Things Repurposed for the Universe — A Spiritual Lesson of Minimalism"},{"content":"Eventually you have a pile of clever and witty things. You did a bunch of cool shit and now you get go on an on about cool the shit you did was. Not only that, but you get to buy over priced coffee and sit at table in a busy place in a busy city while busy people busy around busy town.\nClearly sarcastic, but also sounds fun. When I first did WP the mobile structure was a little rickety if not absent. Today I\u0026rsquo;m able to comfortably type out an article via my phone. Sure its not as soothing or fast as a keyboard. But lately I\u0026rsquo;ve been typing out a lot of my ideas to trello anyway. I could easily see me writing articles on the fly from my phone.\nWhats important is eliminating all excuses. Forcing myself to preserve any and all ideas. By what ever medium suites it best.\n","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/2020/10/31/how-do-i-blog/","summary":"\u003cp\u003eEventually you have a pile of clever and witty things. You did a bunch of cool shit and now you get go on an on about cool the shit you did was. Not only that, but you get to buy over priced coffee and sit at table in a busy place in a busy city while busy people busy around busy town.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eClearly sarcastic, but also sounds fun. When I first did WP the mobile structure was a little rickety if not absent. Today I\u0026rsquo;m able to comfortably type out an article via my phone. Sure its not as soothing or fast as a keyboard. But lately I\u0026rsquo;ve been typing out a lot of my ideas to trello anyway. I could easily see me writing articles on the fly from my phone.\u003c/p\u003e","title":"Writing from my Phone"},{"content":"My history with WordPress stretches over a decade. Every time I revisit, it becomes more and more streamlined. Much of that is the advancement in the technology but also my own skill set and understanding.\nRecently I\u0026rsquo;ve been working a lot with AWS architecture. I leaned a bit into those skills to eliminate a lot of the overhead I used to have with developing a LAMP stack server to host the WordPress app.\nThese days much of the busy work has been condensed using Bitnami AMIs in the AWS marketplace. Add in a bunch of great documentation and you\u0026rsquo;re eliminating 90% of what used to be a manual multi-day project.\nHistorically, I\u0026rsquo;ve relished in the technical depths of the WordPress architecture. I\u0026rsquo;d feel like I was creating something important. Learning the intricacies of a stack of Linux services, working together to host a great platform.. Only to have the blog project never become an actual thing. I\u0026rsquo;d be burnt out; thus missing the true reason I was creating such a platform in the first place.\nTo write.\nIn the technical hangover of my accomplishments, I no longer had the ambition or vision of actually contributing to a blog. Yet like the times before today, I revisit this world of grammatical failures and spelling errors. With a greater sense of importance in having another channel for my writing.\nIn offline channels, I\u0026rsquo;ve started collecting volumes of journal entries, and outlining of talking points. This has been therapeutic, and also reassuring, that this medium I\u0026rsquo;ve always seen potential for refuge is finally finding a way to claw out of mind.\nI\u0026rsquo;m looking forward to refining my own genuine authenticity in life, work, and play. Cheers to what the future holds. What words can contribute, to help heal the world into its new normal?\n","permalink":"https://twobaglife.com/2020/10/31/back-to-wordpress/","summary":"\u003cp\u003eMy history with WordPress stretches over a decade. Every time I revisit, it becomes more and more streamlined. Much of that is the advancement in the technology but also my own skill set and understanding.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eRecently I\u0026rsquo;ve been working a lot with AWS architecture. I leaned a bit into those skills to eliminate a lot of the overhead I used to have with developing a LAMP stack server to host the WordPress app.\u003c/p\u003e","title":"Back to WordPress"}]