The Importance Of Rolling

(Somewhere halfway through a less enjoyable day than yesterday)

“Rarely are the first steps in a journey anything like the final ones, either in direction, pace or grace. So believe me when I tell you that none of those things are even half as important as the fact that there are steps at all. And by the time you’re really rolling, it will be in a direction you cannot now even imagine. So please, for the time being, just roll…

Rambling (unedited free flow of thought)


(Unedited thoughts from the long grass)

A dear and trusted co-pilot once told me; ” just write. write and don’t look back. don’t check. don’t edit. just get it down…”

We shared several Hendricks & Tonics in between the black notes of a Soho dusk. It was sound advice.

One learn’s a lot about one’s self during the inhales of a ramble.

This is a ramble. I’ll be sharing a few.

No doubt it will be littered – Carnival weekend littered – with grammatical car crashes and pitiful spelling. But one will learn a lot about one’s self during the inhales of a ramble. So I’m trying to not care.

This, is a ramble. (I do care, but I’m trying not to.)

So I find myself (slouching towards another birthday ) caught in the tension of a spirit vs science stand-off.

Biochemically, the dragon stirs. With menace.

The highs and lows are getting shorter.  The bell curve, shaped with less forgiveness.

And yet the spirit fights on. Pushing back hard against dem’  numbers.

The binarism of science versus the ambiguous and serial subjectivity of my Truth. My delicate, precious and yet profoundly empowering Truth.

(This, I must teach you, darling).

For now, treatment remains a suspended shadow in the dark corridor to the left. Yet the tension seems to tighten, daily, down the corridor to the right.

And then there’s grief.

For what’s been. But more confusingly, for what’s to come.

Or for what’s to be lost? I get confused.

The things that scare me most are not the things that will happen, it’s the things that won’t. Or at least will, but I may be forced to miss.

But it’s foolish, isn’t it? Being human is a fucking train crash sometimes.

I am of a strange and perhaps slightly contentious belief, that those who are chosen to endure nature’s cruelty, do so with a responsibility to share what they learn or are learning along the way, with others.

To teach. Seed hope. Help. Soothe. Lest others may one day find themselves in similar plots.

But I struggle with the balance. How about you? The balance between drawing from experience to teach, versus simply wanting to talk and be heard. Understood.


When does this type of teacher become a victim? And when does is he become annoying? Are there rules here?

Neutral is hard. But reality is a mess.

(This, is a ramble. I’m trying not to care).

I wrote half a book once. You may have a read it.

I have so much to say, and I think, so much to teach. And yet it turns out, whilst the Melphalan was able to stall dragon, it couldn’t smote the fear.

Of Judgment. Ridicule. Rejection. But then there’s that responsibility. Sense of duty.  Even, dare I say, Purpose?

Being human is a fucking train crash sometimes.

I can’t bring myself to write the other half. And yet that is where the teaching is. Survival against the odds unveils our greatest wisdom and most edifying lessons.

Is this the work, Charlie? Is this the corridor we need to walk.

(Listen, the biggest tragedy is not that we are never loved, because we are always loved, it’s that sometimes we grant neither permission not access to the deepest parts of us that need it most.)

So this, was a ramble.

Borrowed Wisdom From The Good Doctor

As I see it then, the formula runs something like this: a man must choose a path which will let his ABILITIES function at maximum efficiency toward the gratification of his DESIRES. In doing this, he is fulfilling a need (giving himself identity by functioning in a set pattern toward a set goal) he avoids frustrating his potential (choosing a path which puts no limit on his self-development), and he avoids the terror of seeing his goal wilt or lose its charm as he draws closer to it (rather than bending himself to meet the demands of that which he seeks, he has bent his goal to conform to his own abilities and desires).”

Hunter S Thompson

A Dispatch On Getting Started



It’s ten past four on the afternoon of the first of February.
The coffee machine is out of order.
People are grumpy, vulnerable.
And scared. Very scared.
The clinic, as usual, is running late.
Up to 80 minutes.
But it’s ok, ok, ok, ok because, we may be seen earlier.
If possible.
And besides; somebody somewhere is deeply sorry for the inconvenience.

This is a special place.
A curious, spectacular train crash of everything that makes us so tormentedly human.
Tricked out to look like something different.
But no-one here is fooled.
Impossible chords of bravery, courage, sadness and hope chime between its walls.
And charge the air between the people that blink here.
Some of whom used to walk in.
Now they roll out.
And stare ahead.
Trying to remember where they placed the breadcrumbs.
Back to that ‘other thing’ they used to wake up to.

I’m lonely.
Every 6 or so weeks I come to this place.
My choice.
But alone, nonetheless.
It’s a unique place in which I am able to be a unique version of me.
Stripped bare of ego.
Grumpy, sometimes.
Vulnerable, scared, always.
But uniquely, me.
My parallel universe.
Where the loneliness hurts but is necessary and welcome.
A bridge.
From that guy to this one.
Lucid, wide open, honest, transparent.
And sorry.
For not being a better this, that and the other.
For not having the courage to be more of this me, out there.
But that’s the goal, isn’t it?

I’m trying.

We all long for beautiful, brilliant lives.
But beautiful, brilliant lives do not just happen.
They are built daily.
With courage.
And love.
(May that beautiful life be yours always.)
Love for others.
Love for ourselves.
Our ideas.
The things we believe in.

They say graveyards are the richest places on the planet.
Ideas worth trillions, buried with souls on new journeys.
Gone but for the grace of provenance.
Maybe those people didn’t love themselves enough.
Or their ideas.
The things they believed in.
Or perhaps they were just scared.
Couldn’t find where or how to start.

To start.
To truly start, it would seem, is the hardest peak to climb.
Because to truly start is to commit to a beautiful, brilliant life.
All bridges burned.
And love.
For others.
Our ideas.
The things we believe in.
I’ve tried to start.
So many times.
And yet I find myself nowhere nearer to where I want to be.
Cycling in and out of hopeful elevators.
Or am I?

Has all this toiling in turbulence brought me to the very place to which I once pointed at on the map?
Is one man’s turbulence, another man’s clarity?
Another man’s Calm?
And were the bridges burned on my behalf?

Scored by Nils Frahm, they’ll come to get me soon.
Maybe it’s finally time to start.
To commit to that beautiful, brilliant life.
Or what’s left of it.
And Love
For myself.
My ideas.
The thing that I believe in.
Which, as some may know.
Is Others.
Their plans.
And the things that they believe in.

The pain in soil covered ideas far outweighs the pain of starting.

Please start. Just. Start.

Strange. Or Not.
Between the walls of such a place.
Defined by ambiguity.
Supervised by hope.
That I should find a place to start.


The Power of The Personal Audit (have you done this?)

Dear Self,
It’s the end of Jan, 2018.
What are you playing at?
Not much? Too much?
Not enough?
Have you taken your personal audit yet?
Then #SFA! Step back, reflect on what you know and run the audit.
Why? Clarity, alignment, focus, energy, commitment.
So here’s goes. Not everyone’s will be the same. Be brave enough to be you:
2019 Personal MO Check-in:
1. Working smart is much more of a force multiplier than just working hard and being busy. You’re not kidding anyone. Are you woking smart?
2. Are you finding 30 minutes to be still, silent and breath everyday?
3. Are you exercising for 20 minutes first thing in the morning? If not, put the phone down and get on it.
4. Once you decide to do something, anything, go all in. Don’t be the kitten with a ball of wool.
5. Procrastination is an escape mechanism for people scared to do their best work. Man-up!
6. Give people x25 of the time and value they expect. You know what happens next…
7. Don’t do it if you’re not having fun. Period. There’s too much resentment in the world as it is.
8. If you’re not scared daily, you’re not growing. Again, man-up and jump in.
9. Be the most generous, optimistic and kind person in every room you’re in.
10. Your phone is costing you your fortune. Put. It. Down.
11. When you think no-one else believes in your vision, that’s when you absolutely must stay true to that vision. Have the guts to stay in the game far longer than it makes any sense. One day…
Good job. And so to Feb.