Stumbling Onto An Old Journal Sketch

I moved recently and have taken the opportunity to get rid of as many things as possible while doing so.

I drove across the country in a Civic about a decade ago, had almost everything I owned in the car including a conga drum that took up the passenger seat, and ever since then the feeling of owning little and owning things I only really like has stuck with me as an empowerment, especially in an age of distraction.

Regardless, I was going through some old journals (one of the things I don't really get rid of), and I stumbled onto this little sketch.

I don't know if and what it is supposed to mean exactly, but eight or so years later it connects still, engages my heart, gut, and brain all at once.

It's true, whatever it is.

I cut it out (a rare move), and I'm going to stick it to my wall.

Perhaps a reminder.
There are few true core obstacles.
Fear is one.
Let it be.
Move through it.
Show up.
Find out in your bones and DNA that you are something beyond the walls you have drawn and mortared at the suggestion of people who used to be (much) taller than you.

Or perhaps just a dude in a crown with a gun and a slogan. Still true.

Be well.
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