The Trailhead

I’m going to be teaching from the place I find myself in now. That’s a vulnerable but vital thing to do. Anything else is cowardice and dereliction of duty.

— Martin Shaw

Welcome to the trailhead.

This is the beginning of a journey toward what I hope to be an enchanted and beautiful place.

I’ve been hearing whispers of this place, I’ve been dreaming of this place, but I’m not sure where it’s located. This series of posts is intended to keep me on the trail.

Be forewarned, I may not make the best guide, but I do make a good friend, so I’m glad you’re here.

What will follow are Field Notes — a collection of real-time reflections on what is seen, heard, and felt as I explore topics like creativity, technology, and beauty. I’m curious if they intersect, and how.

I am arriving at this place after the supposed path of success became increasingly narrow, until it disappeared entirely… I no longer have a full-time job.

I believe this is all in good timing, but I have very little foresight on what the future holds and I am taking it slow.

Two parts of my Self will direct our travels…

The first is a cartographer of sorts. He is always solving, planning, charting our course and documenting the journey. He was trained in the way of productivity and progress. He’s not quite sure how we got here, but he’s optimistic about figuring it out.

The second is a quirky fella. An artist. Young, insecure, and curious about the flowers, the stars, books, music. What on earth do these things have to do with our journey? Perhaps nothing. Perhaps everything.

I am hopeful that I have companions elsewhere on the trail. If that’s you, welcome. If you find this experiment entertaining, welcome. If you are just passing by, thank you for listening to me ramble this long.

I hope to use Field Notes as a tool to engage with things I’m passionate about, express myself in a way I am desperate for, and — if God would have it — bless my neighbor by reflecting the good and the beautiful along the way.

As the opening quote confesses, this feels like a vulnerable thing to do, but I simply have no choice but to write about it.