I'd like to force myself to write more. I used to have so many things that I wanted to say and get off my chest, and somewhere between careers, family, and working out I've sort of lost that feeling. Or maybe I just felt like the internet world was too oversaturated with the same topics I wasn't really sure where I fit in.
Speaking to that, a long long time ago I wrote a song entitled "Never Found My Niché". I wrote the lyrics when channeling the sense I felt when I was told I was "too punk to play sports" or "to jock to be punk". How even though I was standing in a room with people of the exact same youth subculture, I never really felt like I fit in.
I've grown so much over the past five years. Even in the last four years since leaving San Francisco and moving to Los Angeles I've grown so much further past the uncomfortable, unsure young man I was. At the time I felt like I could never live anywhere but the San Francisco Bay Area and after moving down to Los Angeles I've started to feel as if this was where I was meant to be. Of course I feel bogged down by this city as I would in any city. I feel like I can't afford to do the things I'd love to do, I feel as if three quarters of my life is spent deciding whether or not it's worth it to sit in traffic. However, I've learned many things about myself after uprooting our lives, moving to the Southland, getting a dog, having a baby, and then preparing for our second. I've learned my value, and my worth. The worth of my time and effort. I've learned about being a father. I've learned to manage my anxieties and stress levels. I've tried my best to learn to live in moments, and enjoy life as it comes. Yet still I'm not sure where my thoughts, idea's, concerns, and interests fit in.
I'm interested in conversations about what being a man means. What being a good parent, care taker, provider, lover, what all that means for me. Where I can find time to fit in who I am and what I am. Where does this exist? I want to slam fists into a heavy bag or a pair of mitts, then walk away and talk about how much snuggling with my son means to me. How much it means to me that we're able to give kisses and hugs. Discuss the fact that the SECOND my son finds hugs and kisses with his papa to be weird, I will be destroyed. Then how I pick up my world and continue to try and hug and kiss him and his brother.
So... Writing... For now? I'll try this website Medium, and see if I can get some of these thoughts out and down in a casual manner. First off? My morning rituals, or what I like to call. The Buffer.
Hope you have a great week!
