Here. Not There.

An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.

I have this grand idea that plays out while I'm on the move: There's a truer me when I'm on the trail or pedaling around some new town. 

Im going somewhere. I'm being something. And maybe I'm celebrating a highly inaccessible slice of life's pie when I'm not surfing the web, typing away at my job or trimming the trees in my backyard. 

I find nothing adventurous in the pursuit of a cleanly home.  

But maybe that's the problem.  

Maybe it's time I address my motion sickness and the growing lust I've inherited from Instagram. I believe it's time I look here, not there. Live here, not there. Love what's here. Not there. 

When I step back a bit I see myself powering through the week to arrive at the allure of Saturday's angelic glow. I chug coffee to speed up my Thursday afternoon, desperate to dig into my Fridays. Mondays are a chore. Tuesdays, a bore. There's traffic and monotony; a looming reminder that I'm here (in the office...drumming my steering wheel at a standstill...people watching the eternal line of over indulgent buyers at Costco) wondering, wrestling, why-ing my presence 5 days out of a 7 day week. 

That's arguably 260 days of my year spent with my head down, silently cursing some trivial annoyance in a wonderfully awesome life I've been blessed with, chasing after the tumblr adventures, buying the fallacy that those people, there, have more time--time for fun-- and more days in a year. 

Frankly, I don't want to waste 71% of my year in longing for the 29% I might spend in my tent, hiking through the rain, sleeping under the stars or feeling otherwise golden when I have a 100% chance to walk in the light of life every damn day. 

I realized this cliche very slowly. I was in an elevator envying the Patagonia and Camp 4 Collective feeds, thinking maybe, if I wished it enough, the doors would open to some equally majestic, comparatively magnificent mountain range enticing my deep desires of exploration and significance.

Instead, the elevator DINGED and I saw our company logo on the adjacent door. Back to reality.

In double tapping those photos I double tied my heart to idolatry. My excitement for the day capsized to envy. And rather than packing my gear for a journey through digital strategy and content marketing, I sludged into base camp (the community kitchen) and pretended to be surprised at the predictability of the burned coffee. 

Sometimes my lust for life turns me into an asshole for the average and I have to open the windows on the drive home to let the heat out of my chest and feel the wind on my face. 

I'm realizing I'm well on my way to my dream job. I'm being transformed into the man I'll become and I've got to stop putting such an unnecessary cynicism on the pace.

"Awesome" is the only thing I want on my agenda. Which means I've got to cancel frustration, reschedule my meeting with impatience until after I've met with perseverance and trust that the best me starts Right Here, and occasionally Out There will follow. 

Everything I've ever needed has always come at exactly the right time and found me right where I needed to be. And it was here, not there.

So I'm finding adventure everywhere.

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Exploring the mystery of life through my nephew's eyes.

Marveling at the timing of an incredible read crawling into my hands. 

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And taking my wife to signings of authors who wrote on her heart.

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Learning something new with my father in law, and mapping out our menial kitchen counter for a grand dance with my unknown.

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I'm looking out my backdoor.

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And when I'm done, I'm putting down my shoes and picking up a spatula because God knows I'm in for a ride when I try to cook.

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Im not sure my wild heart will ever rest but it's certainly learning to love the sky I'm under, no matter where that may be.

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Im waking up from my ideas of way out there to embrace the dreams of here. 

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I am a husband, an uncle, a brother, a friend and son and I refuse to leave a legacy of far off hopes and bitter remains.

I'm done sacrificing here for there. And that said, I think I figured out the mathematical secret to having more days and more time for awesome adventures.

I will be a beacon of hope, a reminder of possibility in the palm of everyone's hand and a guide of adventures in the here and now. 

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