a space for collecting imperfect notes, essays, posts, poems, microlearning experiments, and
following my curiosity down infinite rabbit holes
Somewhere between memory and meaning, between dream and dialogue, there lives a story. You didn’t write it—not exactly. But it’s been writing you for a long time. I’ve been reading The Stories We Live By by Dan McAdams—a quiet gem of a book that sneaks up on you like a ghostwriter of your own life. McAdams argues that we are, all of us, living inside
A Friday Dispatch from the Edge of Becoming “If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.”— The Gospel of Thomas, Saying 70 Some lines don’t whisper truth—they roar it. They show up like ancient lightning in the middle of
I pulled a card from the Osho Zen deck for my evening ritual. What came to the surface was Adventure. A small child, back to the viewer, stepping into a forest glowing with radiant rainbow light. The path ahead illuminated not by certainty, but by wonder. And in that moment, something in me stirred—a remembering, a nod from the old self to the new one,
“Even this journaling is habitual…”“Are these loops who I am?”“How do you break out?” This morning, while the coffee was still ritual-warm in my hand and the fog of sleep hadn’t yet burned off, a familiar thought spiral spun up: Am I actually moving forward… or just rehearsing the illusion of change? I’ve written versions of this same question in my journal dozens of times.
A poet walks into a Parisian café carrying scissors and a stack of yesterday’s newspapers. He slices through headlines, obituaries, war reports, and weather blurbs, scattering words like tarot cards across the table. He isn’t interested in what was written but in what could be—what hidden messages lie in the shuffled fragments of culture’s cast-offs. This poet is Brion Gysin, and the year is 1959.His accomplice: William S. Burroughs—beat writer,
Take a Look Around https://youtu.be/o3UHMV3jrZk?si=D51rRvCqONyh8U6W Scene One: A Cultural Snapshot in Sonic Form The year is 2000. Nu metal is in full bloom. TRL dominates after-school hours. Everything feels like it’s accelerating—dot-coms rising, falling, and rising again, paranoia creeping in under the surface of Y2K’s afterglow. Enter Take a Look Around, Limp Bizkit’s contribution to the Mission: Impossible II soundtrack. The song itself is a
here, upon these 64 ancient squares,
kings stumble, queens rage, and pawns dream of transcendence.
the board of becoming–a battlefield of the psyche where every move reveals you.
along the way, you’ll meet
the Trickster, who mocks your plans;
the Sorceress, who awakens your forgotten power;
the Wounded King, who waits to be seen.
choose your moves wisely.
there’s a certain seduction to the bullet point. it’s neat. it’s tidy. it gives the illusion of control. one thought. one line. one breath. like a haiku, it ends where it ends. no need to explain. no expectation of cohesion. no pressure to finish a thought with a grand conclusion. a bullet point is a kind of grace—permission to pause. but today, i decided to
Where the Mind Ends and the World Begins: Thinking Like a Spider There’s an old tale told among the Ashanti of West Africa about Anansi, the trickster spider-god who brought stories to the world. He wasn’t just a weaver of webs but of narratives, connections, understanding. Anansi knew what modern science is only beginning to articulate: that cognition doesn’t live in the head alone—it dances
The ‘Soulcruzer’ podcast (more of an audioblog, really).
Expect a blend of mysticism and music, psyche and soul, everyday wisdom, and the esoteric. One day, I might be waxing lyrical about Nietzsche’s eternal return, and the next, uncovering the wisdom of the tarot. It’s all up for grabs on this pod.
So, if first-person confessional style podcasts are your jam, subscribe to mine wherever you get your podcasts. I’m on all of the major platforms.
This morning I caught myself asking the same question I’ve asked a hundred times in my journal:
Am I actually changing… or just looping in disguise?