Trees, Meet Forest

You think you see it all, but it’s impossible. So you surround yourself with people who can see for you, who can cover your blind spots, and you hope and trust that they are watching what needs to be watched. You can’t even begin to think about what those things are. Because you are neck deep building something for which there is no model to review, no template to follow, something so blindingly new that everyday you find yourself not just answering questions, but coming up with the questions in the first place. It’s so surreal that you get tired of yourself saying it. Quickly.

But yes each day becomes like turning back into the dark of the pillow far past your time to rise, and each day intrudes on the dreamlife a little bit more. The day becomes night and you are purposefully lost in the dream of your own lucidity. Am I really drawing all this?

It’s emboldening like mainlining reality would be if you could do that. I can and have. I’m already an addict. You freak out constantly, several times a day losing your mind, twice, usually. All before noon.

This is to be something earned not just owned, something struggled for, something that has neither the “some” or “thing” to it. It just IS.


I don’t even feel coffee. I just drink it.


This is how you build for yourself, for those you care about, for the people who challenge you, and the businesses who will grow with you. You pick the things you want to work on and hope, beyond hope—which if you think about it is a really far off, distant sort of place, cause hope itself is sometimes quite far to begin with and we’re talking beyond even that—anyway, you are hoping, that they turn out to be worthwhile, that they turn out to be able to sustain you in whatever way you need in order to be you.

I am in the midst, the throes, of building a some of things. Something. An organization, an engine, a tool, a mindset, a lifestyle, a sensibility, a family, a value chain, an ethic and a philosophy. Of how to live. Of why to work, of where to do so. These are the rooms you walk in. These are the people who populate those rooms. The people you journey and converse with. The people who breathe your air. The people who you dance alongside. You realize that everything is just, of course, fantastically, about people. It’s about their space, their motion, their needs and fears, their particulars. It is always and forever about people.

Life is the details; The glue between each moment.

After a time, working with people, working for people, you recognize yourself as something else, something different. You come to see yourself as a body, but the body is not yours anymore. It belongs to something bigger than you, more than you, not of you. You feel limbs and they are not yours, you run your hand up and down them and you notice the absence of that tickle you expected. But you have access to more power. More thrust, more go, more life.

But at the very same time this new limb is yours and you are rowing or walking or climbing with it. Sometimes even what you have in your possession is a mind, a consciousness you can meld onto your own and you grow even more powerful, in an instant the world is a new place.

I am fiber and sinew, muscle and tissue. I am so strong.

You spend your days thinking about talents and hierarchies and who belongs where, and doing what, and could this work, or how about that? And how do I keep it all together, and how long do I really have and what do we do exactly and things are moving so fast that you don’t know or care because the thing has a momentum now and it’s not really about this particular thing or that particular call or coffee or lunch meeting or cafe date or after work beers or conference call or check the schedule check the schedule is it on the schedule and just then you come up for air and for the briefest second come into contact with this thing, this some of things that is patched together you don’t know how and you only know why but the why is a new question that you shape while you are busy searching for the answers. The why is because it matters and because people matter and that glue between you two and you two and you two and you two, each has its own consistency, its own covalence, its own circling mythology and context and magic and power. The addiction to that becomes your curse and your skill at the very same time, I know the glue of breath, I know the friction of two teeth swallowing each other. The lip bites down and the body moans in delight but is silent all the same.

I know the substance of style, how the air moves in and out of conversations, new exciting avenues that are just then intuited in the instant of your gratification. Here is where creation lies.

This is where one gets thick, gets rudimentary with life itself, gets muddy, like eyes that cannot see love, and you are asked what you do, and you respond only that you think and move and breathe and act and sit and stand and embody it. You are just a new thing with a new body and you are exponentially more powerful than you ever could have imagined.

What do you do? I don’t know. I don’t know I am just making it up as I go along, crafting the questions to the answers as I discover them and like beads on a necklace they get slipped into place, one after another, piece by piece, and one day maybe just perhaps maybe I’ll slip on this wreath of moments, this necklace of glue, this patchwork of people beating together, each to their own tune, but each at the same drum.

I breathe this answer and step with this solution. I am a neural network of ambitions and forecasts, lives in all variety of its moments, its beings, lives have beings just as beings have lives. Coffee is bitter but life, life is a grandness, like coming out of the water for a second and seeing the immensity of the whale, next to your skin, that lone dark globe of an eye piercing back at you, knowing, understanding, without question communicating love and peacefulness.

There is a body taking shape around me. A body of bodies. A totem of joints. At once Gapetto. At once the wooden boy. And the silk of the strands holding you are slick to the skin as you hold them.

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