Living for Performance
Until this year, my life was shaped by the underlying desire for outcomes. Usually recognition, money, validation, or some stiff cocktail made of those ingredients.
I knew no other way.
I grew up playing hockey on teams you had to try out for. So every fall, my performance was assessed—which would dictate where I’d play that season.
Naturally, I wanted nothing less than to play at the highest level. I wanted to test my ability as keenly as I could. I wanted to be judged as more skilled than the others.
From childhood, the shape of my life hinged on my ability to perform.
Performance was both the carrot and the stick.
So I chased, and I chased, and I chased.
I chased long after I hung up my skates.
I chased past intuition, alignment, and joy.
I chased until my body ached and my spirit broke.
I spent a long time sitting in the wreckage.
Driven by Devotion
Devotion has little to do with force, and everything to do with finding things you love so deeply that you’d invest time and energy into them regardless of any outcome.
You can’t be devoted to things you think you should, need, or are supposed to do.
Devotion only blooms from what you love.
For me, this means lifting and practicing yoga often, running and climbing sometimes. Playing chess, Mario Kart, and reading. Tending the indoor jungle and the garden. Spending time with Yuki, family, and friends.
There’s raving, singing, writing, and guiding too. All these pots in the Garden of Me receive what they need to flourish, because I love them too much to neglect.
So I move between responsibility and curiosity with rhythm, not rigidity, spread consistently over time instead of crammed into a single day.
This approach has brought me input, texture, and detail for my writing.
The more my life fractals, the more my writing grows and glows. I like the contrast between digging my hands in the dirt and rap-tap-tapping away on my keyboard.
And everything feeds off of another.
I wrote a poem in my head while playing Mario Kart. When I’m tending the plants and garden, I often find writing ideas tucked under leaves. Lifting and yoga ground my mind. When you weave what you love together, unexpected delights bloom.
Drink Up, Yo-Ho
You can sip from a different well now.
One that’ll shift your energy system entirely.
From frantic fire to mighty river.
From fried and frazzled to calm and cool.
From sprinting after to calling in.
These are the Wellspring of Devotion’s wondrous effects.
The Wellspring that feeds the mighty river that waters the Garden of You.
Now drink, if you dare.
With love from the fog,
~ Alexander, Flamebearer of Emberbrook