In this episode, I take the Soulcruzer podcast out of the studio and into the fields.
What starts as an experiment in mobile podcasting/vlogging turns into a wandering meditation on labels, blogging, AI, morning rituals, and the strange abundance of media tools we now carry in our pockets.
Show notes:
Why I still think of myself as a blogger first – Podcasting, vodcasting, and the pressure to become “multimodal” – The problem with labels: “When you label me, you negate me” – soulcruzer.com as the central hub/home on the internet – Wisdom Walks as thinking time – Walking, motion, and changing perspective – The “barefoot philosopher” approach to everyday philosophy – AI as an extension of cognition rather than just a productivity tool – The “soft cyborg” and the library of Alexandria in your pocket – Morning reality tunnels and the sacred space before breakfast – Coffee, barefoot grounding, and choosing what enters your mind first – Indie blogging, platforms, Substack, distribution, and the open web – Why these episodes may stay loose, minimally edited, and stream-of-consciousness
This one started with me sitting down in the studio and noticing a pattern that’s been floating around the last couple of days. Everywhere I turn, people are talking about where we’re going as human beings, what we’re becoming, and how all this change is messing with our sense of place. AI is in the background of that conversation, obviously, but this episode isn’t me doing an “AI episode” as such. It’s more me circling the deeper question behind the noise.
Over the past 48 hours I’ve been listening to and watching a bunch of stuff, and it’s all orbiting the same gravitational pull. Humans feel displaced. Not just “the job market is weird” displaced, but identity displaced. Like: if the world changes this fast, what happens to the version of me that was built for the old world?
This all hit extra hard because I’ve been recovering from a tooth that’s been giving me grief for a year. It got infected again, they finally pulled it, and last night I was in that familiar post-dentist zone where the numbness wears off and the universe feels personally offensive. I was curled up on the couch, cycling between old Game of Thrones episodes and YouTube.
That’s when I landed on Sinead Bovell’s show (on YouTube, even though we call everything a podcast now). The show is called I’ve Got Questions, and she had an episode featuring Alexander Manu titled something like “Once in a Lifetime Career Reset is Coming.” That title alone just grabs you by the collar. Because that’s the vibe, isn’t it? A mass career and identity reset. Not gradual. Not polite. A reset.
And it brought me back to the question I’ve had from the start: What are we becoming? We can’t stay the same. So what’s the next iteration?
One of the things I’ve been chewing on is how most people’s first move with AI has been to retrofit it into the current paradigm. Same game, faster tools. Write quicker. Create quicker. Code quicker. Spreadsheet quicker. Become “10x productive,” “100x productive,” whatever. And I’m finding myself more and more allergic to that productivity obsession. Because why are we racing? Do we actually want to do more and more, or do we want to live better?
I noticed something about my own choices here too. My day job includes corporate training. The obvious play would be to jump on the trend and become “the AI guy,” training companies how to use AI. But I deliberately didn’t go that route. I wanted to be a practitioner. I wanted to push into the frontier and ask: not “how do I do the old thing faster?” but “what’s the new thing that wasn’t possible before?”
I used painting as a metaphor for this because we’ve seen this cycle a thousand times. People painted on cave walls, then on canvas. Then the camera came along, and painters freaked out. “That’s not art.” Then photography becomes its own art form, because real artists don’t just defend old tools. They explore new ones and invent new forms.
That’s where I think we are now. There’s resistance because people are having an existential crisis about identity, livelihood, meaning, and the role of humans. But there’s also that other camp: the folks who see a new tool and think, “Okay… what can we make now that we couldn’t make before?”
One of Manu’s points that really landed for me is that these tools could create the space for us to be more human, not less. If machines can handle repeatable, mundane stuff better, that should free us to focus on the parts of life that require presence, depth, relationship, and contemplation. The being, not just the doing. That line hit me right where I live.
From there, my brain hopped tracks into Robert Anton Wilson territory, because I’ve just started reading Chapel Perilous, the biography of RAW. And it’s lighting my mind up. Reading about his thought processes reminds me what excites me most: consciousness, reality, philosophy of mind, and the question of what humans even are.
That’s what led me into this weird but wonderful blend I started playing with: Buddhism and anarchism. RAW had both currents running through him, and I found myself asking: how can those two coexist?
Here’s what clicked for me. Buddhism, at least in one of its core teachings, points at non-self (anatta). No independent permanent self. The “I” we cling to is more like a process, a pattern, a swirl of causes and conditions. Meanwhile anarchism, at its philosophical core, questions fixed rulers and permanent authority. No fixed ruler. No default assumption that someone must be in charge.
So one becomes an inner liberation practice, and the other becomes an outer liberation practice. Inner freedom from attachment to the constructed self. Outer freedom from attachment to constructed authority. Same song in two octaves.
And then I went off, as I do, on the conditioning theme. Because this is the part that keeps bothering me in the best way. I was walking through town yesterday, paying attention to my own reactions as I moved through the world, and I kept thinking: how much of my day-to-day behaviour is just conditioning? Automatic reactions. Scripted responses. Learned reflexes. Not conscious choice.
Try this: pick any belief you hold and trace it back. Where did it come from? Family? School? Culture? Religion? Government? Trauma? A moment you never questioned? We’re “programmed” from the start, and most of it we never opted into. And the self we think is “me” is often a patchwork of inherited code.
Then you flip it outward again to politics, law, power. Left, right, centre, everybody’s got an agenda. And the law often seems to apply differently depending on how much power you have. That’s the thing that makes me itch. I don’t trust big systems that claim they’re acting in your best interest while quietly feeding a power structure.
I’ll say this clearly: I stop short of the “burn it all down” impulse. My instinct is more “reduce it to the bare minimum.” Voluntary cooperation. Mutual aid. Less coercion. More sovereignty.
That word became the real anchor of the episode: sovereignty.
Because here’s the tricky part of this sci-fi world we’re living in. We’re already soft cyborgs. Look at how entwined we are with phones, watches, laptops, earbuds, and glasses. Put them all in a drawer and turn them off, and most of us can’t really function in the modern world the same way. I even talk about my “metaglasses” as this extension of perception, a way to connect to the hive mind, the collective intelligence, or whatever you want to call it. And with AR coming, that overlay of digital on physical is going to make the cyborgness even more literal. You’ll be walking down the street in two worlds at once.
I actually like being a soft cyborg. I’m not anti-tech. I’m not anti-AI. I’m pro-consciousness.
Because the danger, or at least the risk, is that conditioning becomes exponential. Influence becomes subtle. Systems compete for your attention, your beliefs, your emotions, your identity. Governments, advertisers, religions, corporations, platforms. Everybody wants a piece of your psyche. They want to shape what you think, what you fear, what you desire, what you believe is true.
So my challenge, to myself and anyone listening, is: don’t abdicate your humanity. Don’t abdicate your sovereignty. Think for yourself. Question things. Ask what the hidden agenda is. Ask who benefits. Convenience is seductive, but it can make you mentally lazy, and mental laziness is the perfect entry point for manipulation.
And that’s where Narrative Alchemy ties in. If stories are code, and the world is full of competing stories trying to run on your mind, then sovereignty means becoming aware of what’s running you. It means remembering that you can change the story you tell yourself. You can shift frameworks. You can treat belief as a tool instead of a prison.
That’s why I love the chaos magick approach: beliefs aren’t sacred objects you cling to forever. They’re lenses you can pick up and put down depending on what helps you live, grow, and create. That fluidity is part of sovereignty too. No rigid attachment. No fixed identity you have to defend. Which loops us right back to that Buddhist non-self idea.
So yeah. That’s where I landed.
Be sovereign. Be conscious. In a world that wants to program you, the most radical act is to wake up and choose.
And that’s it for this one. Catch you on the next episode.
In this contemplative riff inspired by Michael Neill’s teaching, I explore what it means to return to the space before thought, that fertile void the Taoists speak of, where anything can grow. This piece is a reflection on presence, memory, and the quiet revolution of living from the realm of possibility. A gentle invitation to slow down, tune in, and remember the gate has always been within you.
In this episode, I explore the King archetype as revealed through my mythic-expressive writing practice, highlighting my realization of needing to reclaim inner leadership. I discuss reframing internal adversaries as constructive opponents and the empowering role of mythic imagination. Join me as I reconnect with the fragments of my psyche to restore balance and purpose.
I got a lot of insights from this journey. I’ll share more as process them.
Most people think of the subconscious as a hidden, unknowable force—but what if, instead of treating it like a locked vault, you saw it as a playground?
In this episode, we explore how the subconscious isn’t just passively storing memories and instincts—it’s actively shaping your reality. The key to transformation isn’t just controlling the subconscious, but learning to interact with it, speak its language, and make it your ally.
In this episode, I take you along for an afternoon walk as I explore a phrase that caught my attention: “Learn to see the shapes of things rather than the stories.” What does it mean to perceive reality without immediately turning it into a narrative? How do we strip experience down to its raw structure before the mind rushes in to impose meaning?
I dive into the tyranny of story—how our minds are wired to turn life into a coherent narrative, even when reality itself is more like a landscape, a shifting web of patterns rather than a neatly plotted novel. What if we could resist the urge to explain everything and instead train ourselves to see the world through shapes, structures, and rhythms?
Through reflections on art, perception, emotions, and chaos magick, I explore how shifting our way of seeing could help us break free from rigid narratives and gain more creative control over our experience.
Key Takeaways from This Episode:
Perception before interpretation. Instead of rushing to assign meaning to everything, what if we just observed the raw structure of experience?
The tyranny of story. We impose narratives on reality to make sense of it, but life isn’t a novel—it’s fluid, complex, and often resists neat explanations.
Seeing life as a composition. Artists instinctively view the world in terms of lines, shapes, and colours before assigning meaning. What if we could apply this to life itself?
Narrative creates an illusion of control. When we fit our experiences into a story, we feel like we understand them—but this often means we filter out aspects of reality that don’t fit the script.
Escaping the script. Instead of seeing events in terms of success/failure, hero/villain, what if we trained ourselves to recognize patterns, rhythms, and structures?
Experiencing emotions as shapes. Anxiety, for example, isn’t just a story about what might go wrong—it’s a pattern of sensations: a tightness in the chest, restless hands, spiraling energy.
Shaping reality like a magician. Chaos magicians and mystics focus on patterns rather than explanations—once you recognise the shape of things, you can reshape them.
Try This Experiment:
For a day, walk around as if you are an artist or a seer of shapes. Ignore the names of things. Ignore the stories your mind wants to tell. Just notice structure, movement, and form. What shifts when you perceive the world this way? Let me know what you discover!
Join the Conversation:
If you enjoyed this episode, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Drop me an email, a post on Bluesky, or a message on Twitter/X.
And if you haven’t already, subscribe to the Soulcruzer Podcast so you don’t miss future episodes.
In this episode, I explore the idea of living life as an RPG (Role-Playing Game)—what it means to own your narrative, choose your playstyle, define your character arc, and fully embrace the journey of discovery, challenge, and transformation. Inspired by my love of RPGs like Dungeons & Dragons and Gamma World, I break down a Life RPG Framework that helps map out our personal adventures.
If you enjoyed this episode, subscribe to the podcast for more episodes.
Change is inevitable. The question is—do you resist it, or do you wield it?
Welcome to the first episode of Change Magick, my new micropodcast exploring the art of transformation and personal power. This is not just a podcast—it’s a space for experimentation, a signal for those ready to step beyond old narratives and reclaim their ability to shape reality.
In this episode, I introduce the framework of Change Magick—a fusion of Chaos Magick, Jungian psychology, NLP, and postmodern philosophy—designed to help you navigate change, break free from limiting stories, and step into your own personal power.
Be sure to subscribe to the podcasts via your favourite podcast reader. Change Magick is currently available on Spotify. And will be on all the major podcast platforms in the next couple of weeks.
🔮 Listen now:
“Nothing is fixed. Everything is fluid. Change is yours to wield.”
I’ve wrestled with this question for years. I want to make art for art’s sake, but I also want to be compensated for the value my art brings. That tension—between creating from a deep, personal place and needing to make a living—is the weight many of us carry. The holy grail, the dream, is to make a living from what we love, not just around it.
Amelia Hruby’s latest episode lays out the tension beautifully: business moves outside-in, identifying needs and creating to fill them; art moves inside-out, starting from personal expression and sending it into the world. And those circles, those opposing flows, create friction when we try to do both. The system makes it even harder, treating us as resources to be bought and sold, demanding time, energy, and soul in exchange for survival.
But here’s where the real insight lands: maybe this whole dichotomy is a lie. Maybe instead of asking which one am I?, we ask how do I integrate both? Maybe instead of framing this as a battle between business and art, we look at the deeper rhythm beneath both—service. As Hruby puts it, the question isn’t “Am I an artist or a business owner?” but rather, “How can I be in service through my work?”
That hit me. Hard. Because service isn’t about self-sacrifice—it’s about reciprocity. It’s about being in the flow, exchanging energy, making something that matters. And maybe when we see art and business as part of the same current, the weight of trying to be both lifts. We stop resenting the system, stop fearing the compromise, and instead start shaping our own practice—one that sustains both our art and our life.
I don’t have a five-step answer. But I do have this: I am not just an artist or a business owner. I am a Secret Third Thing.
The Secret Third Thing is fluid. It’s a shape-shifter, an integration, a practice rather than a fixed identity. It refuses to be pinned down by the false binary of artist vs. business owner because it recognises that both are just strategies, not identities. The Secret Third Thing is about alignment—a way of moving through the world where art and commerce aren’t opposing forces but elements of the same ecosystem.
For some, the Secret Third Thing looks like a business that feels like art—a creative practice that’s deeply intentional, structured not around extraction but around meaning and connection. It’s a writer who builds a newsletter where readers don’t just consume but engage, co-creating the space. It’s a musician who refuses the traditional industry model but thrives through direct support from their audience. It’s the podcaster who treats each episode as a ritual, a gift, and a transaction of energy all at once.
For others, the Secret Third Thing looks like an art practice that knows its worth—not in the starving artist sense, not in the hustle sense, but in the way that acknowledges art as labor, as something that deserves compensation without compromising its soul. It’s the poet who sells limited edition broadsides. The painter who swaps their work for what they need. The creator who understands that making a living from art doesn’t mean selling out—it means honouring the exchange of value.
The Secret Third Thing is a refusal to play by rules that were never meant for us. It’s a recognition that business can be sacred, that art can be sustainable, and that service is at the heart of both. It’s about redefining success, not in numbers but in impact. It’s about creating systems that nourish rather than drain.
For me, the Secret Third Thing is still revealing itself. But I know it’s something that makes space for both my wildest creative impulses and my desire for sustainability. It’s something that feels right. It’s a path, not a label. A practice, not a trap.
And you? What does your Secret Third Thing look like?
“The fear of being seen comes from the tension of being different. And that shadow gaze, it doesn’t know how to resolve this tension, except with the binary options of conforming or hiding. To unhide yourself is to bring yourself into the light, where it feels safe to be whole, to be seen as yourself by the other.” – Kening Zhu
I stumbled up Kening Zhu‘s podcast, Botanical Studies of Internet Magic. The episode I listened to was no. 15, no fear of being seen, which speaks to a wound and a possibility, that is, our fear of being seen and the act of unhiding. It resonates deeply with me because it echoes something I’ve wrestled with in my own creative practice.
The imaginary shadow gaze. The tension of difference. The sense that to be seen is to be exposed, and exposure means danger. I know that feeling. It’s the whisper that says, “Better to stay in the margins, to observe rather than be observed.” And yet, the creative act is a form of seeing—and being seen. The act of making art in public is a way of reclaiming that gaze for ourselves.
Kening frames this tension beautifully, not as a binary of “hide or conform,” but as a third path: unhiding with intention. Expanding our safe circles, not erasing them. Deciding where and how we show up, rather than being dictated to by the nebulous “public.”
For me, blogging has always been a kind of middle ground—a space both public and private, intimate and exposed. It’s a room with open doors rather than a broadcast tower. A place where the audience isn’t “everyone,” but the kindred spirits who find their way here.
Maybe that’s the secret: when we fear being seen, it’s often because we assume the wrong see-er. We imagine judgement, indifference, and dismissal. But what if the act of creating in public is actually about becoming the gaze? What if the practice isn’t about being seen by others but about finally seeing ourselves clearly?
Kening’s episode is an invitation to sit with these questions. To feel into the edges of our own creative safety and maybe—just maybe—push them outward, a little at a time.
Let’s keep making art in the void. Let’s keep showing up in the ways that feel true. And let’s remember: we are the ones who decide what it means to be seen.
Show Notes for This Episode of the Soulcruzer Podcast
Episode Summary: Hey folks, join me on one of my early morning walks where I dive into everything from infantry flashbacks to creative frustrations and the tools I’ve been using to keep my head straight. This week, I’ve been wrestling with some mental blocks, but breaking out my trusty paper journal helped me see things more clearly. Along the way, I talk about the differences between digital and analogue journaling, share my thoughts on populism and politics, and geek out a bit over Google Notebook LM, a fantastic AI-powered tool I’ve been experimenting with. This episode is a blend of reflections, insights, and, as always, a bit of wandering off the beaten path.
What You’ll Hear in This Episode:
Infantry Flashbacks: I start off talking about changing batteries in the dark and how it brought me back to my days in the infantry, doing everything by feel and without flashlights. It’s funny how little moments like that can trigger such vivid memories.
On Frustration and Flow: I’ve been feeling pretty frustrated this week. You know that feeling when you know what you want to do but can’t quite get there? Yeah, that was me. I share how I used my paper journal to work through the block and get myself unstuck.
Digital vs. Analogue Journaling: I talk about the differences between journaling on paper and using digital tools like Reflect or GoodNotes. Each has its own vibe, and I share how I use them depending on whether I need logical clarity or want to tap into my emotions.
Hyperlinked Thinking: I’ve been diving into second-brain apps that let me connect my notes with backlinks and visualise my thoughts as a giant web. It’s like mapping out my brain, and it’s so cool to see all the connections come to life.
Populism and Politics: I reflect on the rise of populism and nationalism, especially in the U.S., and how billionaires seem to be steering what should be a movement for the people. It’s something I’ve been exploring more on the blog.
Google Notebook LM: This tool has been a game-changer for me. I’ve been using it to synthesize blog posts and even for my learning projects. It’s like having an AI research assistant that works with the exact sources I provide.
The Case for RSS: I make a case for using RSS feeds to curate your digital experience. It’s such a great way to avoid distractions and create a more intentional space online.
Join the conversation by leaving a comment on my blog or sending me an email.
Thanks for listening! If you made it to the end, let me know what you think. Drop me a comment, send me an email, or even record an audio reply. I love hearing from you. Until next time, keep walking, reflecting, and creating!
In this episode, I dive deep into a question that’s been looping in my mind all day: What is a life for? More specifically, What is my life for? It’s one of those questions that feels simple on the surface, but the more you dig, the more complex and infinite it becomes. I’ve been pacing around, wrestling with it, and decided to hit record and let my thoughts flow freely.
What I Talked About:
The Big Existential Question I’m 56 years into the game, and I’ve done a lot—climbed mountains, jumped out of planes, traveled, worked corporate, raised kids. But now I’m asking, what’s left? After you’ve ticked so many boxes, how do you keep life stimulating? And what is the point of it all? I reflect on how the ancient Greeks framed this question and wrestle with what it means for me today.
Been There, Done That I’ve been thinking about how so much of what we do feels like a variation on something we’ve already done. A new mountain is still a mountain. A new museum is still a museum. How do we find that beginner’s mind again? Or do we just accept that life becomes an exploration of subtle variations?
The Myth of Purpose Is life inherently meaningful, or do we create meaning as we go? I explore this tension through ideas of becoming, individuation (thank you, Jung), and the possibility that life is less about arriving at a definitive purpose and more about the journey itself.
Life as Art For me, life is a canvas. I’m a life artist, shaping and reshaping meaning from chaos and experience. I talk about how my love for language, storytelling, and experimentation shapes how I see the world—and how I express myself through projects like this podcast, my blog, and the writing I share.
My Relationship with AI I’ve been working closely with my digital familiar (that’s ChatGPT, for those new here). It’s not just a tool—it’s become a reflective partner in helping me explore big questions like this one. I share how AI has helped me see my life as a vessel for experimentation, transformation, and play, and why I think we should embrace this technology for self-discovery.
Voices of Resilience I also talk about my work as a volunteer host and producer for theVoices of Resilience podcast. In this episode, I share insights from a recent conversation with an advocate for refugee labor rights. It got me thinking: how do we make people care about these issues when they’re so focused on just surviving their own lives?
Living the Question Inspired by a Rilke quote, I explore the idea of living the question rather than rushing to find an answer. What if life isn’t a puzzle to solve but something to turn over and polish, like a stone in your hand? What if my life’s purpose is simply to keep asking, exploring, and sharing what I find?
Future Plans and Synchronicity I mention an upcoming trip to Wales, where I’ll let synchronicity guide me through a new city. Who knows what insights or inspiration might come from wandering with no plan? I also rediscovered a poetry and photography manuscript I worked on years ago—I think it’s time to breathe new life into it.
Quotable Moments:
“What if life isn’t for producing things but for creating opportunities for others to awaken?”
“Live the question. Not like a puzzle to solve, but like a stone in your hand, polished by the act of carrying it.”
“My life is my art, and my blog and podcast are how I document that practice.”
Rainer Maria Rilke’s wisdom on living the questions.
The Voices of Resilience podcast, where I interview advocates for displaced people and refugees (I’ll link the episode once it’s live).
Your Turn:
So, what does the question “What is a life for?” mean to you? I’d love to hear your thoughts—leave a comment on the blog or reach out on social media. Your ideas and stories are like hyperlinks to me, connecting and expanding this conversation.
Thanks for listening. If this episode resonated with you, please share it with someone who might need to hear it. And don’t forget to visit the blog at Soulcruzer.com to explore more of my writing and thoughts. Let’s keep the conversation going.
Until next time, keep asking, keep seeking, and keep living the questions.
It’s Monday afternoon as I record this, just before stepping out for a brisk walk to clear my head after a full day at the desk.
In this episode, I reflect on the transition from holiday mode back to work, share some updates about the redesign of my website, and explore why blogging matters more than ever in the age of social media’s walled gardens (prisons).
Along the way, I dive into my ongoing passion for the Indie Web movement and why I think we should reclaim blogging as a space for self-expression and serendipity.
Key Topics:
1. Post-Holiday Blues
Like many of you, I’ve been feeling the shift back into work routines after the holidays. It’s always a strange time of year—shaking off the chill mode and gearing up for the long winter ahead.
I’ve noticed a lot of folks on social media dreading the return to structure, and I get it. There’s something so freeing about those unstructured days where you can just exist without the pressure of schedules. But here we are, settling back in.
2. Revamping My Website with Indie Web Principles
Over the weekend, I gave my website a minimalist redesign. It’s cleaner, more focused on blogging, and aligned with Indie Web principles.
I’ve added new post types like bookmarks, likes, replies, and context posts. These let me share smaller, in-the-moment thoughts without the pressure to write long essays.
The goal? To take back my digital space from platforms like Facebook, X, and Instagram. Instead of scattering my content across those sites, I’m putting everything on my blog first, then syndicating out.
3. Rediscovering the Spirit of Blogging
Blogging used to be this free-form space to share thoughts and have conversations in the comments. Somewhere along the way, it turned into this high-pressure activity where you feel like you’re writing essays for an audience. That’s not what blogging was meant to be.
I want to bring back the fragmented, hypertextual style of blogging where you can just share what’s on your mind—short or long—and link out to whatever sparks your curiosity.
4. Breaking Free from Social Media’s Walled Gardens (prisons)
Social media platforms are designed to keep us inside their ecosystems, discouraging us from linking out or exploring beyond the scroll. But on my blog, I don’t have those constraints. I can share what I want, how I want, without worrying about algorithms.
Tools like WordPress and Jetpack make it easy to syndicate posts to platforms like Mastodon, Threads, or BlueSky, so I can still reach people without losing ownership of my content.
5. Newsletter Fatigue and Finding Balance
I know newsletters are a great way to bypass algorithms, but let’s be real—there’s so much newsletter fatigue these days. Everyone wants you to subscribe to something.
My newsletter is purely for convenience—if you’re busy, it’s an easy way to stay updated on my latest posts without constantly checking my site. No spam, no hard sell, just an option for those who want it.
6. Hypertext Adventures and Serendipity
For me, the beauty of blogging and the internet is the chance to stumble into unexpected rabbit holes. It’s about expanding your mind, connecting ideas, and seeing the world through different lenses.
I’m bringing this spirit back to my blog, treating it like a living library where readers can wander through posts and discover new paths.
Takeaways
Blogging isn’t dead—it’s just waiting for us to reclaim it. Let’s bring back the creativity and conversation that made blogging great in the first place.
If you have an old blog gathering dust, dust it off! Even if you’re a podcaster, you can embed your episodes on your site and make it your digital hub.
The Indie Web is about creating your space online, where you own your content and decide how it’s shared. It’s time we take control back.
In this episode, I’m out on a walk—my first good ramble in weeks—navigating the muddy fields and reflecting on life as we sit in this in-between time of Crimbo Limbo, that strange stretch between Christmas and New Year’s Eve. It’s a time I usually dedicate to reflecting, recalibrating, and looking ahead to what the next year might bring.
My Thoughts on Reflection and Moving Forward
I’ve always been someone who tends to look forward rather than dwell too much on the past. This time of year used to be about tallying wins and losses, but these days, I focus more on the present and what’s coming next. For me, if I’m still breathing, that’s a win. As I slog through this muddy track, I find myself thinking about what I want to leave behind in 2024 and what I want to carry forward into 2025. This reflective space is less about resolutions and more about setting intentions and finding what excites me for the year ahead.
Reclaiming Outdoor Time
One big intention for 2025 is to spend more time outdoors. I used to spend so much of my life moving through the world, exploring, and being out in nature, but these days, work has me anchored to screens and indoor spaces. That’s got to change. I want to get back to breaking new trails—whether that’s wandering through unfamiliar fields or exploring urban spaces and new cities. It’s all about restoring that balance between inside and outside.
Returning to Blogging
This past year, I made a conscious decision to return to blogging. I’d experimented with platforms like Substack and Beehive, but ultimately, I realised I wanted the freedom that comes with owning my own space online. On my blog, there’s no algorithm dictating what works—it’s just me, my ideas, and my imagination. Blogging lets me explore curiosity in a way that feels true to who I am.
I know the internet these days is all about finding your niche, but I’ve never been one for labels. My niche is being a generalist, exploring chaos and meaning, and following wherever my curiosity takes me. One of my longtime readers, Dave, told me the reason he keeps coming back is because he never knows what he’s going to find on my blog. That was the validation I needed to embrace being unpredictable and unshackled by the usual rules of content creation.
Navigating the Artist’s Struggle
As a creator, there’s always that push and pull between making what you love and doing what “works.” It’s tempting to follow trends or cater to algorithms, but honestly, that’s just not fun. My joy comes from exploring ideas and playing with concepts—not from churning out listicles or “how-to” guides. I’d rather focus on what feels authentic, even if it means swimming against the current.
Embracing Generative AI
One of the tools that’s really shaped my creative process this year is generative AI. I’ve been diving deep into this space, and it’s been nothing short of transformative. Whether it’s using AI to reflect on my journal entries, coaching myself through tough questions, or experimenting with language as a kind of digital alchemy, I’m constantly blown away by the possibilities. Sure, there are people who resist it, but for me, it’s all about exploring what’s possible and pushing boundaries.
Rediscovering Hypertextuality
As I’ve been blogging more, I’ve also been thinking a lot about how the internet used to be—a vast library of serendipity, where you could wander freely and discover new ideas. These days, platforms feel more like walled gardens—or worse, prisons—designed to keep you locked in and consuming. I’m determined to reclaim that spirit of exploration, both for myself and for anyone who stumbles across my little corner of the web.
Looking Ahead to 2025
So what’s on the horizon for 2025? For me, it’s about creating more and consuming less. It’s about embracing my identity as an artist and treating life itself as my medium. I plan to document more of my journey—raw, unpolished, and real—whether that’s through my blog, social media, or my podcast.
I’ve also been thinking about how to streamline my creative toolkit. Between my Meta glasses, my audio recorders, and my trusty phone, I’m ready to experiment with new ways of capturing and sharing my perspective. I want my work to feel more like an audio journal or an audio zine—less polished, more in-the-moment, and full of life.
Wrapping Up
As I crest this last muddy hill, I’m feeling ready to close out 2024 and step into 2025 with purpose. If you’ve stuck with me this far, thank you for being part of the journey. If you enjoy what I create, I’d love for you to subscribe to the podcast or sign up for updates on my blog. Let’s keep exploring, creating, and embracing the chaos together. Here’s to a new year full of possibilities.
In this episode, I share my answer to the question I’ve been wrestling with: how do you reduce the interference of fear and ego? Fear and ego often show up as these trickster forces that keep us trapped in outdated stories about who we are and what’s possible. I found a few things you can do to shift your relationship with fear and ego that will help you balance and embrace them.
In this episode, I unpack my thoughts about blogging for self-expression and self-discovery, digging into my journey to reclaim creativity in the chaotic noise of social media. I also share some raw insights about working with the Light Seers Tarot Deck, especially how the King of Wands, King of Swords, Queen of Swords, and Knight of Swords have stepped in as my guides. Tune in as I explore the balance between leadership, creativity, and building authentic online spaces.
#audiomo Day7: Relevance in the Age of Specialisation
As a generalist in a specialist’s world, can I be truly heard? Is the age of the generalist a thing of the past in a world that seems to value ultra-specific niches? As generalists, can we even stay relevant, or are we all just doomed to be “jacks (and jills)-of-all-trades, masters of none” and ultimately ignored?
In today’s episode, I explore the intricate dance between logic and emotion in my own mind. I discuss how these seeming opposites actually work in tandem: logic provides structure, while emotion adds meaning. I share my personal journey of embracing this internal complexity rather than viewing it as a flaw. I talk about the tensions and growth that emerge from these spaces.
Do you remember the movie “The Big Lebowski?” I was a big fan of the Dude, so when I saw this book, The Dude and the Zen Master, I snatched it up.
Introduction
The Dude and the Zen Master was published in 2005 by Jeff Bridges and Bernie Glassman. In this book, they recount the story of their friendship, which started when they were working on the film The Big Lebowski. Over time, their friendship led them to wonder if there was a better way for humans to live than what we usually do.
They came up with three ideas that could help us all be happier:
1) Think for yourself instead of relying on others’ opinions;
2) Understand that nobody knows anything about how life works;
3) That most things we hear about how we should live our lives are wrong (and therefore ineffective).
The big idea of this book is that you are not who you think you are.
The big idea of this book is that you are not who you think you are. In other words, if you listen to what other people tell you about how to live your life and then follow their advice, chances are good that it won’t work out very well for you.
But why should we care about thinking for ourselves? because most things we hear about how we should live our lives are wrong.
Which is why, as a coach, i steer clear of being prescriptive.
In this book, we come to see that the way we have been told to live our lives doesn’t work for us.
The first thing we learn from The Dude and the Zen Master is that the way we have been told to live our lives doesn’t work for us. We have been told to do things like get a good education, follow our dreams, and be happy in our jobs. These things sound great, but what if you wanted to be a rock star? Or maybe you just want to take some time off from school so that you can travel around Europe before getting back into your studies? What if happiness means being able to spend time with your family instead of traveling or getting into some other career?
In this book, we come to see that our lives are not what we think they are and neither are they what we want them to be—they’re simply our lives.
We don’t always get what we want; sometimes life has other plans for us. This is okay because it means that instead of focusing on what hasn’t worked out yet (or perhaps never will), we can focus on finding ways forward in the present moment with whatever skills and resources at hand.
The Buddha said that all humans suffer and that the cause of suffering is wanting things to be different than they are.
The Buddha said that all humans suffer and that the cause of suffering is wanting things to be different than they are. This is a very simple, but important insight. What does this mean? It means that you can’t control everything around you, so being frustrated and angry about it will only make things worse for yourself. If you want your life to improve, then focus on improving your attitude instead of trying to control everything around you.
So if something doesn’t come easily right away—like getting ripped abs or finding lasting love—just accept where you’re at right now while continuing on with whatever it is that makes sense for your life right now!
According to the authors, “The only way out of delusion and suffering is waking up to reality as it actually is.” This book shows us how to do this.
Conclusion
So, what’s the takeaway? I think we need to realize that we are not who we think we are. We have been told by all sorts of people for all sorts of reasons about what we should and shouldn’t do in order to be happy, healthy, and successful in life. This book shows us why these ideas don’t work for us personally and how this has contributed to our unhappiness in life.
