Howdy, Chair on the Edge of the World. We meet again. I have some thoughts I need to get off my chest so bear with me as they unfold.
Deep inside, there’s this weird feeling, kinda like a brown banana. It’s shouting, “This ain’t the life for me. We’re not meant to live like this.”
Peering through the dense fog, I take a deep breath, remembering the grind of my morning commute — be it a 10-minute subway ride in New York City, a 40-minute drive along the Pacific Cost Hwy, or the occasional two-hour traffic mess to downtown or the valley. I used to think, “Is this really living?” stuck in the trap of societal norms with no obvious escape.
Sipping on my perfectly crafted latte, I ponder the ongoing internal struggle to make sense of why society expects us to clock in 60–80 hours a week, playing a small part in the big machine. Disconnected from the outside world for five years, I don’t even know what people are up to on their morning commutes these days and that feels effortlessly ok inside.
This journal entry is me trying to make sense of my journey through this wild ride we call life and finding some pride in the changes I’ve made.
Life’s nothing like it used to be, and weirdly, I’m cool with that. Swapping city life for chopping wood and living solo with my pups up in the mountains has been a wild change. The old worries are replaced with clarity and a new motivation to take things slow, all mixed with a heap of love. Even chomping down on food is different; it’s not just about survival anymore — I’m savoring oysters for the taste and the experience it provides.
Thinking back to growing up, I’m thrown back to when our generation was all about “hustle hard” — yeah, sounds cliché now. Back then, it was all about grinding for the reward, living life like an elite athlete chasing success in everything.
This ain’t me hating on the past, just looking back on the crazy effort I put in. The idea that hard work gets you what you want shaped my worldview, steering me through my ambitions and whatnot.
As I weave through my thoughts and experiences, this journal is a mix of confessing and celebrating. It’s recognizing that life’s a rollercoaster, full of ups and downs. But in the middle of the chaos, there’s a chance to see progress and find comfort in the evolving story of me, myself and I.
So here I am, caught between the echoes of my past self and the serenity of my newfound existence. Life’s flipped, turned, and twisted into something I never imagined, yet oddly, it feels just right. As I pen down these words, I’m not waving goodbye to my past; I’m acknowledging the journey and the person I’ve become. It’s a wild ride, this thing we call life, and as I sit here on the edge of the mountain, I can’t help but feel a sense of contentment. See you on the flip side, Chair on the Edge of the World, or until next time vibes — wherever this rollercoaster takes me, I’m ready for the ride.
Until Next time
-cb