I had to see 2 things at once.
First, weed has always been valuable to me for specific reasons.
It’s been too easy to enjoy its value at the expense of other values.
And seeing my other important values held back made me try to quit weed so many times . . . though I always failed.
What changed everything was simply sharing my story over time.
Sharing allowed me to see both why I love weed and also all those other good things too much weed infringed upon and hindered.
Through sharing my story, I faced my addiction, my perspective changed, and weed is no longer something I lose control to.
The times we’re living in.
Let’s say you wake up everyday and go to work for someone else, essentially giving them and their dreams most of your time.
Imagine seeing your true potential.
You catch a vision of yourself rising above every limitation and weakness.
I look back fondly to a time when my religious beliefs were the bedrock core of my identity, the driving passion behind my ambitions, and the framework I used for understanding every experience and idea.
Back when I was fighting addiction, I had this feeling all I needed to do was share my real addiction experience over time—that going public like that would force my perspective to change, and keep me accountable to moving forward and growing.
So I sat down one night and started writing.
I was actually the exact opposite until recently. Continue reading
Declaring yourself terrible is too easy.
Writing yourself off like that is an excuse . . . a way of hiding behind ideals of perfection.
If someone asked you to brainstorm a list of the most important things in your life, I’m sure you could easily fill a page with scribbled terms circled and joined into various categories and sub-categories of value.
I want to be the best version of myself I can be.
A mistake I make at least twice a year is getting so wrapped up in things like outcomes and returns—the results of “being my best self”—that I end up trying to be someone else.