Being your own mentor

Writing, to me, presents a beautiful experience where I feel like I am writing with a subconscious double self. I mentioned this in one of the previous blog posts.

Writing, to me, also somehow plays a very funny role in my life without meaning to. I realized that when I write something, sometimes it manifests itself into a chance for me to listen to it.

For example, I just wrote yesterday that there are I-want-to-do-things like marveling at clouds and there are I-need-to-do-things like me taking care of what’s right in front of my path like changing into new sneakers for the journey ahead of me.

I was exactly in that situation today. I let you in on the ending first: I failed spectacularly.

I went out for a run this evening when I noticed chunky gray storm clouds disappearing. It was right before sunset. It wasn’t raining anymore. I thought it was a good time to run.

Boy, was I wrong.

The clouds were fantastic. A mix of storm gray puffs with white puffs and orange glow that began to turn pink and last ray of daylight peaking through like heaven was opening up and the red tint on the gray clouds and white clouds in all these unimaginable shapes they were forming and how fast they changed and raced across the sky and some were so low to the ground that I wondered how is that possible and it was just so amusing.

I stopped to take pictures every few minutes and ruined my running pace. I couldn’t help it. If I didn’t take the pictures to save this scenery, I would miss them forever. I have a huge FOMO (fear of missing out) that I just can’t seem to let go. It was crazy, it was so exhilarating, it was so beautiful.

I barely got any consistent run today.

Shortly after I decided to put away my phone and run properly for once, a surprise rain came down. Wet hair slapped me on my cheeks. I actually really enjoyed the rain. Not too heavy, not prepared for it. The coolness was nevertheless a delight from nature.

I digress again.

I just wrote about prioritizing what needs to be done and telling myself to do what’s best for me. I failed to do that. I wasted a day of running outside and keeping my body healthy.

But I’m not here to berate myself. I’m here to take a moment to appreciate an epiphany.

It’s so funny how writing and living comes almost hand in hand. Through writing I become my past self, present self, and future self. I become wiser and more foolish than I think.

Yes, I failed to listen to my own words. But isn’t it just so interesting how writing can transcend time in my own body and life? I am communicating with myself through time. My past self is present with my future self and vice versa.

This old childhood wish of mine (a lost child in various ways) was that I wanted an Old Wise Man in my life. Someone to guide me and help me. Someone to help me on my hero’s journey. It has been a while now that I have known that that person has to be me. But it’s also times like this now where I am reminded how right I am and thus on the right track for where I am heading.