The full force of being alive

I've written this post before, the one where I close this blog down. My reason for shutting it down this time is much the same as last time.

I get caught up with thinking about certain thoughts in my head. More specially, the thoughts asking me who am I writing these posts for. Even though each post is expressed to inspire everything is related to my life, my travels, my take on living. A self-centered theme to be sure. I'm not running away from my goal to inspire I'm merely owning up to the realization that keeping this blog going is failing to reach that goal as I see it.

There is a beautiful photo of Pancho Villa and Emiliano Zapata and a handful of others who have become immortalized in this iconic image of the Mexican revolution. In this photo I see so much, but more than anything I see a little boy. I see a little boy peeking to the side of Pancho Villa's right shoulder. (Villa is the one sitting in the big presidential chair, Zapata with the massive sombrero resting on his knee)

I like to think of this image as a brain scan of all the thoughts/feelings floating around my head at any given moment. Each face representing a different thought or emotion. Some at the forefront of my mind, some lingering in the back, but collectively they make up the full force of being alive, inspired, lost, driven, scared, brave, sad, confused and last but not least, curious.

I'm certain I've still got a lot of stories left in me, but for now, i'll be happy to share them in person rather than on this page. These days, like the ones that have passed and the ones yet to come, will be filled with many thoughts, but my hope is that I nurture that little boy stirring up a great story in my head, the one who reminds me it's better to be filled with a f*ckload of curiosity than conform to common thoughts.

Been there Done that PART 3

Otis Redding was playing as I settled into my taxi ride that would take me to the other end of the island.

“You just come from the big casino mon?” the cabbie asked in a thick Caribbean dialect

“you know what?” I replied, “I just got done working on one of those big yachts and I don’t know about you, but I'm reconsidering whether I want one for myself.” I said with a chuckle

“Really, why da'ya' say 'dat mon?"

Been there Done that PART 2

Dressed in Kakai pants, a collared shirt, and those stereotypical yachting shoes (the ones with the thin piece of leather laced around the ankle, and of course white soled, so as not to scuff up the pretty, big boat.)

“Kevin!” I stood staring at the second level.

“Come on up.” He yelled back in a hurried tone.

Pic-me-up Monday #6

Been there Done that PART 1

I tripped on the gangway catching myself a moment before the captain turned around. I was pretty sure I just stumbled upon my dream job.  I was the newest crew member of a giant yacht, one hundred and forty feet of pure excess floating in the harbor of Nassau Bahamas.  The name of the private yacht read in big black letters across the stern Been there Done that.

Pic-me-up Monday #5