He who knows not….

The popular saying “He who knows not, but knows that he knows not is wise” comes to mind when i comtmplate the current trend of seeking the uknown. Excitement and adventure seems directly linked to the degree of discovery,and the risk of danger or failure. Many go to great lengths to peer into corners of cration yet unknown. The irony is the growing trend of eschewing discovery and longing for the rare surprises in today’s world. This is evident in young couples declining the oppotunity to know the sex of their unborn, people choosing to become Luddites  cut the cable, cord and whatever else tethers them to the grid. Alas, this is most evident in the nationalist, xenophobic outlook of many. Not knowing, for all its virtues also hides its other face, – disconnection.
I’m sure this is the point many click along to the next blog or news bulletin, but hang-on, these thought are far from political:
Many know the burden of wonder that come with pondering how one came to be at a particular place or time. Deprived of the stories of ancestors and stewards of culture, language, and memories, compulsions  one is left walking in circles trying to piece together the grand puzzles albeit with pieces withheld. We reinvent ourselves ignoring the voices that beg the question who really am I?
The African Americans come to mind as one such group, few are lucky enough to have that thread intact, the thread that anchors one’s identity, to a place, a time a people… others, not as lucky.
I am from the Okwarazorumba family, in Nkwerre, Imo state, Nigeria, West Aftrica. My family can be traced back to the founder who rowed his iroko canoe to the banks of Iyi Bekeh (whiteman river) and set up an enclave. He had 4 sons who make up the 4 indiginous villages one from which i hail. Through my travels in life, I have never had to wrestle with my identity, who I am or where i come from. Listening to extended family (my wife is white) talk about DNA testing and mapping out the rest of the family tree, like most native Africans, I scoffed and with no small measure of arrogance said “Well I’m glad i dont need that, I know where I’m from”. I was however challenged with – what if you did a DNA test and the results don’t line up with the stories told?
The grand quandary – Would i want to know that?
I have been venturing into telemark skiing lately. For a pretty decent alpine skier, grasping the new concepts; dynamic balance, weighting, edge control and the likes has really highlighted The things I do not know. Knowing seems pretty hard especially when not augmented by passion, knowledge builds passion and can only be attained as the fruits of a willingness to wonder a willingness to know.
There is much value in knowing, I suppose the same goes for not wanting to know? Some say ignorance is bliss: he who knows not and knows that he knows not is not ignorant, he is wise.
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Home

Home they say is where the heart is, where one’s treasures are hidden. Home is the place where neither riches nor glory can replace, age and experience may take one through different stations in life, but as is affectionately said “home is home”. In the mist of chasing bluebird days, being awestruck by love, surviving immense swats of time chained to a computer in a cubicle, I find myself taken to different places in my childhood by the most random of things; A distinct sudden chill the rolls through my spine down to my fingers takes me to crisp mornings in boarding school, the simultaneous smell of gasoline and music pumping out of the the car stopped next to me at the stop light, reminds me of life in Abuja before it became what it is today. I have however been most captivated by light, more specifically the bursts of yellow, reds and orange peaking out beyond the horizon just before sunrise, its magnificence takes me to a place and time I can not put a finger on. Its like a time I have lived and one I am yet to see. It reminds me of home, one that is far, yet so close.
With my recent foray into serious photography, I am glad for the new found sensitivity to change, an appreciation of the extreme and the subtle, the rare and the routine. As we live life, it will do us good to be cognizant of where our eyes rest, we should strive for things that stir the heart, that create treasures of the heart, for the heart will always seek home.
Thanks for stopping by, lots of things coming up this year so subscribe, check out old posts, and keep your eyes on this space.
 lets hang out a little more in 2018.

Food for Thought

Can the world accommodate everyone living in their purpose, with every step and decision intentionally propelling them towards their pre-designed destiny? Many people I know are like trains locked into tracks made of responsibilities, obligations and social expectations, unforgiving and unrelenting. We are governed by mantras like – “man must chop” and “I have a family to think of”, the system needs everyone to play their role to exist, we must go to work to earn and pay the mortgage, the bank must give loans to kids to go to college, who must in turn find a job to pay back those loans and on and on. The system needs us just like we need it.

Staring out this window at my regular 15 minutes work breakfast, I watch people file into worker, I ponder their faces. Some look like they are still trying to fully awaken while others look laden by what awaits them as they walk in the door. I see some people who look like drones, compelled to put in their 8 hours by some unseen force, living for the 48hrs between Friday and Monday. I can’t help but wonder – are all these people doing what they want to do or better yet, are they doing what they are meant to do? Is it possible for us all to do what we are meant to do?

Can the world support a mass awakening, the systems: education, financial, political, social even spiritual are all built on people sucking it up and accepting the hand dealt, what would happen if half the people in our jobs decide to quit tomorrow and follow their heart, downsize and live for contentment. I am not quite sure. Would that be a good or a bad thing? What if the farmer, accountant, doctor decides to quit and become a musician, or load up a backpack and through hike the Appalachian trail? As much as I want this for everyone, I wonder how this would play out. In the Garden of Eden, God gave Adam work to do, I assume he liked doing it, it was what he was meant to do. The woes of living in a fallen world.

As usual I have more questions than answers. I just am moved by our collective level of compromise, overwhelmed by the courage and vulnerability required to unshackle oneself and take the leap, intimately aware of the possibility of failure which if the other face of the coin on which courage lies. The saddest part is that the effort required to dream for a better tomorrow or contemplate decisions in the past that has lead us to our today, actually ends up robbing us of today. I guess all we can and should do is keep fighting, keep dreaming but all the while not forgetting to keep leaving because as of today, TODAY is all we have.

I do need to get some pictures, I know posts without pictures to lighten up the melancholy sometimes end up sounding depressing

 

The Planks.

 

I feel myself plummeting down this narrow sketchy patch of snow and ice, the lift line at the bottom of the run is approaching a lot faster than I would expect or like. I know I don’t want to skid my turns, like some of the seemingly cool kids do with a roost spraying off the trails of their skis, I want to be in control, riding the edges and using controlled turns to bleed speed the whole way down, however, that is not working. My brainstem is going crazy and relentlessly firing up my reflexes, I start leaning back, fighting gravity and turning away from the fall line. On a black diamond slope, things are happening so much faster, the stakes are higher and time for recovery is scant. I am rattled now and questioning my decision to turn down this trail, the next pitch is coming up and its much steeper.

The common thread that weaves through all these events, actions and reactions is the ever present “Fear”.

I read somewhere that there are only two emotions: Love and Fear. All negative emotions come fear, fear drives us to run, it dissuades us from inching closer to the edge, and taking the plunge, it keeps us grounded in the safe and predictable. We standby, watch others riding the waves, making the turns, airing it out and tell ourselves things like: “they have less to loose”, “they are much younger”, “they heal quicker than I do” when we see someone crash we hang on that as justification for our “caution/fear” Missing the point would be thinking that I am saying to endanger yourself, however we must be reasonably uncomfortable, a state where we feel more, are more vivid and embody a more intense version of ourselves.

After getting in the back seat a couple times, and unsuccessfully forcing my skis to turn before the edges engage, I stop!

At the edge of the trail, I take some deep breaths and acknowledge fear, yes this is dangerous, but it is not ever going to be, this trail is never going to get less steep just like I am never going to stop wanting to ski it, so today is as good a day as any to do it. I keep my eyes ahead – looking where I’m going and not where I have been, drop into proper squared up stance, I feel for my shin against the tongue of my boots and tell myself to keep them there, I loosen up and let the planks ride, carving Ses in the snow and ice. Fear is calling but I’m really not listening, just letting them skis ride, all the while loving not fearing.

Thanks for stopping by

Daring

I remember how I got into biking; I was astonished by the weight (pun intended) of the number staring back at me when I stepped on the scaled, in pom’s nomenclature I weighed more than about 10 stone. I reluctantly forked out $400 for my new bike, astonished that the bike guy was not overly impressed with my extravagance, I was half expecting the machine to levitate since I paid so much for it. Reality set in when I went to the back of the shop and saw bikes with multi thousand dollar sticker prices, I remember blacking out for a couple seconds. Thinking back to that time, I was completely open to learning something new, a champion of change, desire was strong and motivation virile, food tasted better and I took my tea spicy. For someone who had never been on anything more complicated that a vintage racing bike I stole from a friend in college, my 21 speed looked to me like a fighter jet.

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I doubt anyone has ever crashed as many times as I did on my first mountain bike ride. In my anticipations, I looked up mountain biking videos on YouTube and as you would expect I binged on hours on downhill mountain biking, planning to reenact these moves at my local trail on my $400 100mm travel pogo stick – I cannot be faulted for not trying, as you would expect, the results however was nothing like the videos. Ignorance about riding styles, equipment and abilities, was less than blissful let’s just say. I remember plummeting down gullies, and grabbing hand full of the front brake only to go over the bars, giving trees hugs, changing tubes, I remember how incomprehensible changing gears were and how unforgiving little humps were to submit. I can’t remember doing anything that hard before, even for someone who swims like a stone, this was immeasurable harder than my 10 week training block for a triathlon. Despite the toil, I still dreamt about being on that $400 bike every day, I still saw myself as Hans Ray. At this point in my life, I embraced change, I was not scared by something new, I did not care about success or failure, I just wanted to do something and Hot dog , I went out an did it.

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Black Eyed Susans (Maryland State flower)

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Attempt at a landscape shot… Not doing much for me

I just picked up a much smaller machine recently, this hast highlights have changed over the past few years. I picked up a nifty Olympus Pen E17 mirrorless DSLR camera, great entry level mirrorless camera. Photography has always moved me, in my heart, right next to the chamber which only great music occupies, is a space for awe inspiring images, just below the gourmet tacos chamber. I have however noticed a strange trepidation when it comes to fully immersing myself into this new experience. As a millennial accustoms to ever changing screens and buttons, I am completely overwhelmed by this device. Some much to learn; ISO, shutter speed, aperture, light displacement, image composition, hundreds of hours to be invested to even be mediocre at it. I constantly see myself wanting to just give up and go to the status quo of taking overly processed images on my iPhone using Instagram filters. I believe the greatest strength of a leader is anticipating and accepting change, its uncomfortable, it’s difficult and it can be avoided for only so long.

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My best shot so far… I think the model makes it, not the shooter

 

Through this, I have learnt to extend grace to the hidebound, to appreciate that every person experienced a time when they were vibrant and open, receptive and zealous, but slowly life and its minions make security the priority and society demonizes risk. I plan on mastering this photography thing, I plan on being good at it, I plan on having It add color, texture and context to my ballet of and in life and then I plan on moving on to sometime new before I settle into my immovable way of eating shrimp with old bay or none at all.

I leave you with this quote by Theodore Roosevelt

Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, though checkered by failure… than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight what knows neither victory nor defeat.

Thanks for stopping by.

One side of a coin.

This was how I felt before I felt like this.

In today’s world, it seems we are all concerned with holding closer those things that matter and discarding all else, we want to be in the moment, living life to the fullness, chasing nirvana a pure all-encompassing pure experience void of drudgery, slog or social mandates. We want to do what we love and love what we do. It feels like chasing a phantom, here one moment and gone the next, you get a glimpse of it when u foray into nature or after an epic adventure, it calls you from an edifying movie, or a song seemingly tailor made for you. Like that yoga moment where you are fully in touch with every part of yourself, fully conscious, completely present. However, in the midst of the toil of provision and self-sustenance, of social unrest, political mismanagement and globalization, one must ask where the kiss of illusions end and the jab of reality starts.

Can we really dwell in that moment? Can that truly be our life, a place where one is divorced from modern day convenience and bondages, one truly free, happy and living that life that we desk-junkies long for? I am not saying it is impossible, as there are countless hippies and free spirits touting that freedom. I might be so blinded by the chains of the socially acceptable that I question if this is a case of wanting to eat your cake and have it, I do truly want to be counted amongst the number that claim to be experiencing this liberty but I also feel in these times, we must live each day in its fullness, appreciating, and trying to improve the drudgery as well as chase down and immerse ourselves in those moments when we experience pure passion, joy, freedom and purpose. I think this indeed is what life is, playing the hand you have been dealt and not trying to spend just one side of a coin.

I choose to live fully and not try to be an escapist, not close the door on the ugly and the boring but acknowledge that these thing are also the seeds that create character, innovation and adventure. I hope someday somehow I am proved wrong and I can find that hidden route that takes me to the place of complete engagement without the aid of mind altering drugs

 

To Pacify..

Here is how I feel today

In our microwave society, a pacifier is the ultimate symbol of our desired state of ideals. The burst of contentment it provides to a wailing child is abrupt and absolute, it captures and distracts, albeit it temporarily. It takes away the object of a child’s desire, that thing that prompted the crying in the first place. We constantly live life actively or passively pacifying, this is evident in the numerous addictions we all carry, some big, others small, no one is free, everyone has something calling their name, something they are running from, and in many ways running back to. We distracts, comforts, quiets the things that trouble us… We pacify our needs.

Unfortunately, distractions are just that – distractions, merely transient captors of desire, respite from yearnings that cannot quenched. What it gives never quite goes deep enough, it only caresses when a good scratching is needed. The one resistor to this pacification is the voice of the Heart, logic and rational win over the brain and the mind but the heart sits in silent rebellion, waiting, like Samson in the chains of the philistines, it bids its time, waiting for the opportunity to push down the pillars and return you to reality.

Recently, I have been in a deep state of pacification, chained to a cubicle, a three walled cell which is bigger than my previous cell. I continue to journey up the ladder of cooperate ladder but down this narrow dark hallway like a cow led to the slaughter room. My heart calls, begging me to snap out of it, but now I am good at ignoring it, besides my brain yells much louder. I have put my heart in a dark room and not gone back for some time, and for some time it has let me be but the ambush has been sprung – like waves of old Negro spiritual floating over a southern night, it calls for liberty, it cry’s for freedom, it cry’s for adventure.

Unlike many people, I know what I want to do, where I want to be, and what is stopping me (my good old friend fear.) The bottom line is my heart is about to make a break for it, it will either be let out of the jail or it will be broken trying to do so.