Beginnings...they're endings.

This is probably where ya'd expect me to wax poetic about how death is followed by birth...but I'm not going to do such a thing.

Instead I'd like us to consider that beginnings and endings, death and birth, are not sequential. Instead consider how they are simultaneous or in no identifiable order. 

Give this a chance:

Time is practical. It defines experience in tangible terms however experience transcends the definitive nature of time furthermore experience alters our perception of the passage of time.*

Time is the thing that allows us to do this timeless thing:  

14 September 2025 | Sunday
7:15 AM | Human A: "Netflix and chill?"
7:16 AM |  Human B: "Time?" 
7:37 AM | Human A: "11:45." 
9:47 AM | Human B: "PM? AM?"
11:06 AM | Human A: "You tell me." 
They chill. Time not disclosed.
18 September 2025 | Thursday
10:28 PM | Human A: "I had a good time, wanna repeat on Saturday" 
10:47 PM | Human B: "Yeah. Sure."
10:47 PM | Human A: (...) 
And scene. *

Increments of time allow us to define time for the purpose of universal comprehension: When to be where. When it begins. When it ends. 

It's power halts there. It does nothing to identify experience.

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We've all done it.

We've all had it done to us. (In one way or another)

Life is ultimately measured by experience.

On 1 November 2017 I woke up. 

The experience: Kinetic shifting of mental matter. The experience was physical. A powerfully persistent, almost geological, shifting of consciousness . 

Things arriving in my conscious mind began pushing out that which was preparing to depart.

We might call this making space, mindfulness even. It was the type of mindfulness that extended beyond the moment, singular. I was shifting core energy, perception, and expectation. Embracing and redistributing focus. 

The experience persisted (quantifiably) for seconds but felt like hours when Sherman, my pup, emerged from his blankets.

His morning ritual: Stretch (up dog/down dog), shake out the ears, tuck the bum under emphatically and yawn. The kind of yawn that is also an announcement. We made eye contact. It was time to move.

The little man wanted out. 

Sherman. November 2017.

Sherman. November 2017.

It was the beginning of something. I didn't know what.

I went ahead and got a new haircut anyway. It was there between well executed snips Jessica said

"You know what? Just start where you are".

For some reason that hit. Like, HIT hard. 

It's not as if this was a new idea. I've read long winded articles about self love. I've read "Letters to a Young Poet" by Rainer Maria Rilke and was reminded to give love to and embrace that which pains us. Session after session of yoga reminding me to be there at my mat, in that moment, embracing my place and power.

None the less this struck me. 

The matter of fact, off handed, remark was vital.
One can go nowhere without first experiencing their current state.
(And mind blown.)

Post haircut. Mid-walk collapse in the grass. Off Camera: Sherman runs in circles around me. November 2017. 



Unmasking Narcissism: The Guide to Understanding the Narcissist in Your Life
by Mark Ettensohn PsyD
Essays Against Everything by Mark Greif
Massive Change by Bruce Mao


Light Upon the Lake | Whitney
DAMN | Kendrick Lamar
H.E.R. | H.E.R. 
The Boy Who Died Wolf | Highly Suspect

This is the section where I tell you what I'm reading and hearing on heavy rotation.

* "Time perception is a fundamental component of everyday life. Although time can be measured using standard units, the relationship between an individual's experience of perceived time and a standard unit is highly sensitive to context." -Kathryne van Hedger, Elizabeth A. Necka, Anam K. Barakzai, Greg J. Norman. "The influence of social stress on time perception and psychophysiological reactivity." PSYCHOPHYSIOLOGY, 31 January 2017, Vol. 54 Iss. 5 pages 706-712.
* Dates and days of the week do coincide with actually calendar. Research was done on the subject by way of Google.