A Journey Worth Discovering - Why Getting Lost Is Your Best Path Forward

When Lost In The Forest, Hug A Tree

Just Make Sure You Get Lost First

This blog is many things. In part storytelling and in part instructional. I've written in the past about how to write and publish Amazon Kindle books using basic strategies on using Amazon's Kindle publishing. It's easy to upload and publish, but there is a whole slew of other things I'd like to write about on this blog.

This is a post about finding your way by getting lost first. 

As a teen, I spent a lot of time outdoors and growing up in Southern California affords quick access to many places.  Any point on the map, from the ocean to the mountains and deserts are but a short drive. 

In a matter of hours, you can go hike the forest, swim in a pond beneath ice-cold waterfalls, pack up the car, drive to the beach and catch a sunset surf-sesh. 

With family, we explored amazing wilderness parks like Yosemite and Yellowstone, as well as all points between. 

Often with my friends and their family, I'd spend a good portion of my early teen years hiking the John Muir Trail, the Cascade Mountains, Mount Whitney, among many other places. 

There were so many memories and lessons learned along the way.  To a great part, I'm sure it's part of who I've become. 

But one particular adventure above all that really formed my belief in teamwork and self-discovery. 

At 5:00 am, a group of 20 of us, me, my friends and their dads set off for a weeklong hiking trip through the Sierra's.

The day before we each went over our pack list, divvied up the food, water purification tablets, cooking equipment, tents, anything we could carry and need, with the dads taking the heavier items while we took the tents and our own bags, and together we all packed our gear.

We revisited our itinerary with everyone having a map and outline of where we'd be and when. One of the families staying behind was our emergency contact, with the day-by-day plan of our hike just in case something went wrong.  

Just in case. 

The Best Path Is Sometimes Unclear

The Best Path Isn't Always Planned

Once we loaded up our gear, we divided ourselves into the cars and trucks of our little convoy.  The dads drove themselves, sometimes without their own son in their car.  As kids, we divided ourselves by our friends and by our expected diversions.  

Some chose to ride together by what they planned to read, this was a time before Amazon Kindle books were even created, so it was real, hard bound books. Some of the boys chose their cars by the games they would play; others chose their rides not by what they wanted to do, rather, some chose who they'd ride with by who they wanted to avoid being stuck in a car for a few hours. 

As soon as everyone was settled in, our little convoy drove for a couple of hours to our base-camp, all of us watching the claustrophobic city open up to the broad horizons that stretched toward the surging mountains. It was summer, and we had turned our backs on the cluster and confinement of the city for a week of unfettered exploration. I dozed off a few different times along the way, 5 am being awful early. 

Once we pulled into the base camp, we parked the cars and stretched our legs a bit.  Some went off to shit in the woods, others merely to take a piss.  The plan was to set camp, stay for the night, then begin our 50-mile circular trek back to this particular spot.


The morning came a little too quick. Anyone who's slept outside on the cold earth knows the stiffness that comes with sleeping on dirt.  Even as a teenager it takes you a while to warm up, to stretch out the night stiffness that settles in.  The air is refreshing and recuperative, but there's something to be said for the beauty of sleeping in bed.


After a short breakfast, we broke camp and set out on the first leg of our itinerary. The terrain was rough, there were periods of where the trail had degraded to mere gravel.  Footing could be slippery, especially on slopes that didn't have switchbacks.

Photo Credit

We walked in the buddy system; each of us partnered with another teen, and you walked at whatever pace the slowest could muster.  Typically you chose to match speed with speed, but there was some partners content on drifting back.

The kids led the way, the dads trailing.  We all had a rule that if the last dad caught up, you had to clean the "latrine" at base camp.  So we hiked with momentum and a purpose.

About mid-day, the clouds rolled in, and the sky turned gray.  The change in the air was noticeable. When we had been able to be shirtless, now we were digging for our long-sleeves, and wondering about where we each had packed our rain parkas.

At once, the rain began.  Followed closely by lighting, the kind of lightning you hear during one of those storms that shake the house and scare the dog but never actually see.

Photo Credit

It wasn't long before the lightning struck a boulder not too far from where we were walking.  The shrapnel shot out, piercing what skin we had exposed from out of our parkas, pants, and packs. It sounded as if the thunder was a 12 gauge shot that went off next to your head.  It boomed around your brain, shaking the snot out of your sinuses and down your throat.

This wasn't the first time we were camping and hiking through horrible weather. The difference this time was that with the rain and lightning, we had lost the trail. We were wandering off course, and because of the lightning, we were running further off our path than we had planned. We had set out that morning to make our way to Purple Lake, but now we were surely lost. It wasn't long that we found a lake, and to this day I'm not certain it was Purple Lake, but it would suffice for the time being. 
That's because avid hikers know that if you lose your way in the forest, you want to stay in one spot so the search team can find you. 
And in short order, the dads were able to find our location and meet up with us, where we set camp and stayed through the night. 

The point of this discussion is that by writing your thoughts and publishing them, you have ZERO control over how they'll be received.  And publishing on any platform, whether a blog like this or using Amazon Kindle books as a platform for your story, you have ZERO control over how it'll be received. 

It's like planning a hike only to take the deer trail instead of the well-trodden footpath. 

As the writer, all I can do is to try and make the message as coherent as possible, one that I want to share and one that is hopefully read. Planning is essential, but often we get more out of losing our way, of walking down the deer trail than the road heavily traveled. 

It's often what we can't control that get in our way, and what leads to great discovery.  

Stumble a little through the underbrush, explore new things and find out that the path you first began has now led you down a whole new road. 

It's a journey worth discovering. 

If you're interested in reading about ways you can self-publish your own Amazon Kindle Books, or are interested in habit formation, you can check out those articles here and read a productivity and habit post here. 

The Cuckoo Bird and The Turtle

The Delusions We Believe

Just because we believe something, doesn't make it true.

Just because we feel, doesn't mean it matters.

That's one of the biggest issues we face today. There are too many ways to get an opinion or feeling out to an audience that thinks that because we have a bigger megaphone, our views are correct. Not true.

Just because you can self publish your own book, doesn't mean that A) you should, and B) it's a worthwhile subject.

The question we have to ask ourselves then, is there proof for what I think and feel, that it may matter to someone else?

Because if we feel something, but we're in the minority, is it valid?

If we examine it from a minority versus majority perspective, then yes. There's validity in being the outspoken voice. The creaky gear gets the grease as they say.

But if we are in such a minority as to be unreal, well then, we're just cuckoo.

The turtle knows the trajectory is a long slog. It's not about broadcasting every hour with what is, and what isn't, popular.

It's about researching, and testing, what's important to your point of view.

What path do you choose moving forward? Do you self publish your own book without testing ideas, or do you publish only after extensive planning?

Broken Hearted

In morning there's always the light
Hard to imagine it in the dark we live

They say there's light at the end of the tunnel
Hard to believe when all there is right now is gray

Standing in the shadows that morning holds near
It's the evening that we all fear

You always said you wanted wings,
But that was hard to believe in

esoteric, philosophic meanderings

It's not like you struck or hate
you chose to save a life
so when you see your maker be sure to share this with him tonight
without you, the life you leave isn't one worth living

Legos, Trains, and Haunted Houses

The Limiting Truth of Unlimited Possibilities

How to Overcome The Adversity In Your Life, One Lego At A Time

In a room, two boys are playing, each with their own Lego set. Each boy has an equal number of pieces, identical in every way.

The only difference is that one boy has the box that shows a picture of what the parts can build. It demonstrates the potential that using the particular pieces as depicted can form.

The other boy has all the same pieces in a clear, plastic baggie. He has zero guidance, no scaffolding to work from, and has an unlimited set of options in front of him.

For the first boy, we think of his options to be more limited by being given the display. While he may choose to build something unique, the probabilities are that he'll build something derivative of the display.

While he's been given a head start on what he is potentially able to build, it would seem that it also limits his creativity by creating a preset image of what should be done. One would think that this is the fallacy of expectation; that by showing what is possible, it creates limits on his creativity.

But for the other boy, the one with an unlimited set of options with what to build, how many pieces to use and for what purpose, the task is actually much more limiting.

He lacks any frame to focus his creative energy on. The limitlessness of his options actually works to hinder his creativity.

He has too many options, too many choices to make. He can build tall, he can go wide, he can make anything he imagines, and that analysis leads to a paralysis of action.

Trains In Vain

How Designers of Disneyland Overcame Physical Limitations  

Take a look at another example. When Walt Disney was growing up, he had a fascination with trains. 

He was so keen on trains; he made the designers of his theme park build a railroad track that circumnavigated his property line as an attraction.

When Disney was designing the park, he placed a train track that went around the perimeter of the park for people to get a tour of everything that was offered. But as the popularity of Disneyland grew, and Disney wanted to include more attractions, the property limitations placed a huge burden on the designers and architects. There was a finite amount of space and an unlimited number of options for more rides and attractions.

So what were the designers and architects to do?

If you've ever been to the California Disneyland, you've seen some of the creative solutions to these property limitations. Most likely, without even being aware of the problem in the first place.

If you've ever entered the Haunted House, you know that you walk into an octagonal room that closes behind you. As the doors close, a pre-recorded voice streams over the loudspeakers and sets the tone for what comes next.

As the tape is played, the room elongates and stretches before the audience's eyes.

But it's all an optical illusion.

What's happening is a creative solution to the limitations placed on the designers.

To add an attraction without taking away from other existing rides and structures, as well as the train that circumnavigated the perimeter of the park, the designers realized that they couldn't build upward -

- they had to build down.

So the magical stretching room is an elevator that goes underground to a tunnel that is the ride.

It was only through the limitations placed on the designers that they created one of the most memorable, popular attractions in Disneyland.

And it was because of the restrictions imposed on the developers that a solution was formed, not from them having unlimited options.

So, when you're confronted with endless options, ask yourself what are some parameters that you can work within.

What are some things that can confine you, to help you devise a plan, an option, a strategy?

Learn to set limits, you'll discover that you'll need to be more creative with them than without.

(I first read about Walt Disney, Trains, and The Haunted Mansion "Stretching Room" on the Nerd Guru blog)

Cutting Strings

The door pushed open slowly as her fingers curled over the edge.

It was the first time I saw her that morning.

She walked into the room. Her eyes on the floor, her black hair wet and curly from the shower. She wouldn't look at me, just kept staring at the carpet that separated the two of us.

It's an ugly, old, stained carpet. The stains are from previous tenants, sure, though I know we're just as guilty to the patterns that've developed over time.

At least it's a dark colored rug, brown in fact, with darker shades mixed in at random.

Anyway, this old, ugly carpet laid before us like a gulf between a sailor and shore; all he can think about is landing in port, gathering up his gear, heading home to have a beer and, if lucky, have sex with his girlfriend or wife.

For the less lucky sailor, he'll cast off to the nearest bar and watering-hole hoping that the arrival of his ship in port will bring out the local gals; the ones interested in the guys who pursue a life on the ocean, a wanderlust that is the solitary independence of being on the open seas.

They'll look for the type of gals that say they only want what the sailor wants - a beer, a shot perhaps, than to go home to get laid maybe, but most of all to lay down with someone else, if for just a few hours - and to lose the loneliness of being an adult in this world, before the mask of self-deceit is ripped away by the intrusiveness of morning.

It was morning. And I was spinning about in my head like I did every day, scrolling through emails and unessential social media, in effect, mentally masturbating.

I was decisively indecisive over what path I was to take for the day. I knew I needed to exercise - and so too, did the dog - but I didn't  want to do anything, stressed about the normal adult things, finances, bills, work, and the usual what-not.

In other words, I was too paralyzed by fears and thoughts. I was 100% self-absorbed.

It's usually when we're at this exact moment in our lives that the universe comes along and slaps us upside our heads. The little lady that controls this thing called life (if it is a little lady - I'm sorry - I mean nothing wrong by revealing your existence) has a penchant for the dramatic, a tendency to shake the tree and see what falls. If not for her amusement, then at least for our own.

It doesn't matter to her what we've planned, the vacations, the holidays and trips to visit friends and family; nor the best time to start a family; or for the retirement for those lucky (or smart) enough to plan; the toys to buy, the stories to write - it doesn't matter, because when the little lady decides she wants to do something in our lives, we're like marionettes on a string, her hand makes us dance to the song she's singing.

I wasn't much there, not mentally present at least. As she stood, she stood by the bookcase that we had put next to the door of the bathroom, the carpet sea a gulf between us,  and I turned back to my desk, too self-absorbed to see her.

"I'm pregnant."