I have been slowly moving from a mindset of just getting by to truly believing in abundance.
Though I did some serious rewiring already, I am starting to see how stuck I have been in that scarcity mindset.
Limiting myself for decades....
Because planning a future feels like a luxury when survival is the focus.
These posts are:
𝒯𝑜 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓂𝒶𝑔𝑒 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝒻 𝒾𝓃 𝒶𝒷𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒.
𝒯𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒.
𝒯𝑜 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓇𝑒𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓇𝒸𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓈𝑒𝓉.
𝒯𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝑜𝓅𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒸𝑒𝓅𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒.
What is this pattern I see in myself?
At thirtheen choosing to explore the world by myself, without guidance, without protection.
Then at eighteen decicing to take a similar but bigger step, moving to a differnt part of the country to study, and enjoy the freedom... a bit too much maybe.
Then at thirty, I decide to get married and move with wife an new born to a new country, a country I had never been before, which made it an even bigger step.
Am I running from something, pushing myself, just being overly curious, or maybe just a silly romantic that thinks a new place will offer a new life.
Let’s break it down:
By cutting myself loose at 13 I learned the survival based on independence.
Thgis could have led to the idea that:
Safety = stagnation, loss of self
Movement/escape = freedom, growth, life
It´s more ñike experience replaced protection at 13, and survival skills became my education.
Gambling and weed were not just thrills; they were ways to regulate emotions I never learned to hold within structure.
Nightlife, chaos, and stimulation gave me the intensity, distraction, to fill the rest of void.
A void I knew would be filled one day, but till that day I had to cope with it. My energy and my mind had a purpose, but for now the monotone and quiet life felt unbearable at times.
My ability to read people, adapt to situations, and see through layers of society made me streetwise, alert, and sensitive to the currents around me.
Seems like this early independence planted both seeds: self-destruction and resilience.
Was I seeking novelty over stability?
What was the hunger that kept driving me away from the flock?
Was it my search for identity: testing myself, proving I could survive, reinventing myself without the weight of family expectations?
Or was it that I knew, because I did. I knew from very young my mindset and energy would come to rest when I found my purpose.
Was that it, was that why at 30 I married and exiled myself, Again?
Why did I give up the turbulence, why did I go for commitment and roots: marriage, a child, the desire for family?
Was it because I had something to proof?
Was it because I was done with the emptiness the years of nightlife had left me with?
Why did I marry, have a kid and then leave, to start over? All in one year, what drove me to create this new life and then transplant it into foreign ground?
Was I looking for transformation through escape?
Do I find discomfort in safety?
Is stability suffocating me, and therfore I need movement to breathe.
Not at all, the movement always seem to follow me, or guide me, never did I need to leave the oppertunities just seem to appear out of nowhere.
The study....I enrolled in two places and got accepted in the one furthest away. I wanted to go and live in South America one day, but my new found inlaws invited me to live in Spain.
These movements made me worldly, adaptable, resilient, a man who has lived many lives in one.
But the movemnet did no allow me to stay in one soil long enough to see what deep roots can offer.
I have been a seeker of freedom, but I did that cause me to run from pain and run toward possibility?
Unable to distinguish the two, because they’ve always been intertwined.
A little for sure, running and working hard to start a new life does not allow time to overthink...but that time has come now.
My pattern, then, is it the dance between escape and finding my belonging?
Each leap into the unknown a new lessons, but also ensuring that old wounds never fully heal?
I carry the archetype of the wanderer, the exile, the adventurer.
On some level, I enjoy being the one who dares, who chooses the harder path, who sacrifices stability for experience. It gives meaning to the pain, but it also kept me locked in the cycle.
I sought belonging, but when I found it, it felt like it was not enough, only partial.
I sought freedom, but when I had it, it felt so empty as if it the right thing but the wrong place.
I think I now realize that it´s not that I fear of staying in one place or committing to something.
It´s that I know and knew that I was looking for something and needed to keep going beyond my comfort zone to find it.
Once I reach Avalon, I will find what I have been looking for.
Now that might sound quack to you, but I have been seeing that image for as long as I can remember.
That I find my place in the world, when I create it, and then rest and inner peace will follow.
Thank you for making it this far....for those who know me...or better, think they know me, this might have been a WTF moment.
For me, this is a WTF journey, but I finally know my destiny: Avalon.
Around 1200 AD, Geoffrey of Monmouth wrote that King Arthur was taken on a boat to Avalon by “nine sisters,” the eldest being Morgan le Fay.
Avalon, where the mists of the worlds are thin and time no longer reigns.
“The king was carried to the isle of Avalon to be healed of his wounds.”
According to legend, he did not return from Avalon, but he is prophesied to do so: Arthur is the "once and future king."
Ever since, poets and dreamers have chased that myth. I am a poet, a dreamer, a mystic, and a magician.
I will not chase the myth, I will recreate it just as she meant it to be.
Because over all these centuries, Avalon has grown, the word itself holds more power than the eyes of time can see.
The ancient Celtic legend, a sacred island of healing and immortality, shrouded in fog and guarded by priestesses.
In a quiet English village in 1897, a young writer named T.E. Wilburn sat beneath an old oak and scribbled in his journal:
“Avalon is not merely a place, it is the ache of the soul that remembers something purer than this world can offer.”
That line would later appear in his forgotten book Through the Mists, and inspire the chorus of a 1974 folk song by Rowan Shade:
“Sail away, sail away / To the isle where kings still breathe / Avalon, oh Avalon / My heart you never leave.”
To some, Avalon is paradise. To others, a metaphor for death, it might be both.
Even today, Avalon appears as a vivid symbol of hope after ruin, of wholeness beyond despair.
Avalon is more than a story.
Avalon is a compass for lost souls, pointing somewhere beyond the chaos of the world, to recovery, to rebirth, and reset.
And like Arthur, those willing will all encounter the boat to take them there.
