I’m changing habits.

Ok

I’m attempting to change habits. It’s a game of chess with my own mind and it’s bullshit because my brain knows my next move. It’s cheating. It’s like it can read my mind..

I just came back from camping for 48 hours in a random farm site in or around John’s island.

200 plus acres, semi primitive although they had an “outhouse” which the first time I took a seat I had to do a 30 second recon of what may have the capacity of crawling up my rear, down my leg or sitting shotgun while I’m doing my human nature deposit . Not trying to make you uncomfortable here folks bowel movements are the social equalizer even the pope sits on that throne. I usually find a quiet area and dig my own discardation. Yep another new word.

Anyhoo

I camp to stretch my comfort zone. Especially my two nighters where I’ll try to find a new spot in a different area. I usually camp on Hunting Island, the same island Forrest Gump got shot in the butt while looking for Bubba.

True story if you google it. Quite a few scenes from Vietnam were shot on that island.

Tangent and irrelevant

I opted for John’s island I wanted to enjoy some good food, beach sunrise and trip over some cobblestones in downtown Charleston. Charleston is a collection of some important memories for me over the years. I asked my wife to move in with me down there, we also got engaged at The Coast a year later. I received the news of my stepfather’s fatal motorcycle accident down there too while I was participating in the Cooper Bridge run. It would be my last one. As I said it’s a harbor of intimate memories. A part of me remains there when I leave.

The farm I where I stayed had about a dozen dispersed campsites under a canopy of trees along side a marsh of tide changes. It was 70°-50° while I was there that’s the perfect temp zone for me I wouldn’t want to camp near that water in summer I imagine the mosquitoes aren’t very good hosts. The pasture was dotted with cow pattied land mines. The horizon looked like a green sheet pan of unbaked chocolate drop cookies.

I bet you didn’t know I was a poet at heart.

Cows hosted the fence line. They were respectful of the road and would mosey off the path once you stared at them for a solid minute. The farm had some crooning roosters and a small family of wild pigs running around. Saw them twice before sunrise. I have to be honest I’d rather deal with an angry black bear than wild pigs. If you see one pig there’s usually 3-4 more hanging around it. Pigs can’t climb onto my truck so I didn’t worry too much although I kept my head on a swivel most of the evening by my campfire. I had my last night of sleep interrupted by what I thought were pigs foraging around my site. It took a moment of surveillance to realize I had a few cows mucking in the mud behind my site. I don’t have good experiences with cows while I camp I had a herd almost push me off of a cliff wall during a thunderstorm in the Badlands.

*yawns in adventure

There were no moos to be heard this time only the suction of hooves in deep river mud. No rhythm, no cadence just random suctions to keep me awake. Took me out of my comfort zone just not the way I intended.

I got up early both mornings to drive to folly to watch the sun come up. Cold sandy feet while I grounded myself in the beach sand. I’m a firm believer your soul gets downloads during the sunrise. I’ll gaze at the horizon while it crests over the water. Solid 30 seconds. The sun’s radiance won’t melt your corneas at dawn. Sun gazing is where it’s at y’all. When you watch the skyline and your skin starts to tingle as the sun comes up you’re doing life the right way. My final permanent residence will have access to the sunrise from my back porch. Write that shit down.

This is the fodder to my trail markers.

I drove to folly before my trip back home for one more gaze and drove straight back to unload and return to work.

After work I was going through the motions of my evening routine. Hot ass shower because I hadn’t warshed myself since Sunday, soft cozy clothes, some simple routine take out food and my ass on my sofa spot to disassociate with the day. 8:30 I go do my bedtime routine although I was too exhausted for a meditation.

When I went horizontal to sleep my mind went through my last two days of camping. I do this often, I’m programming my brain to download my experiences into happy memories. Highlighting the best ones compressing them into zip files. On a rainy day I’ll conjure these memories back up for a solid smile.

It works. Highly recommend.

This was a little different my mind was relaying all the goods and paused for a minute.

“ Hey Chad, I hear you talking about your comfort zone all the time. You like to step out for growth when you go camping”

Yes that’s correct. Now stfu I’m trying to sleep.

“Sure thing but have you noticed that as soon as you come back you celebrate by going back to the same exact routine you left off with?”

*Me lying in bed pausing..

You motherf\

“So yeah Chad what exactly are we doing here? Are we alchemizing? Because tomorrow morning it’s gonna be the same thing all over again”

Touché el pussy cat.

Not sure if that was the residual from a download but it struck a nerve. It didn’t keep me awake I went to sleep but I did add a note in my phone right before to address this today.

So hey!

This is my little post reckoning journey for myself not a self help book for anyone else. What I’m doing may not work for others but I’m knee deep in my intuition vibes this year. If the trail lights up I take that detour without any hesitation.

It works

This doesn’t mean when I get up in the AMs I go build a fire outside to make coffee although that sounds amazing right now. There’s no beach to scratch my feet in the sand, my tent is pretty much closed down for the year.

I have to pull my comfort zone thumb out of my mouth. It goes right back in there as soon as I return home. In fact I embrace it. Nothing wrong with a little comfort and familiarity but I need to recognize how easily my thought patterns go back to auto reset. It’s like going to the gym once a month. I don’t want my brain to atrophy from repeating and staying the same thing ol Chad. I’ve lived in the same constant cadence of Chadhood for decades. I’ll briefly step out of him and then rush right back. It’s that goddamn dog on a chain.

I’m not beating myself up in fact it’s the opposite. I recognize the pattern. It’s up to me what to do next.

Growth

Download complete.

I have a coffee date with one of my favorite human beings today. It’s one ritual I won’t break.

Peace ☮️