There’s that moment when you switch off airplane mode on your phone and the only message you see in the upper-corner, coverage indicator area is “Searching…”

It’s the moment when you're about to reconnect from whatever escape you were just on. The moment you return from whatever forced you to disconnect in the first place, be it from going to a movie, hiking or camping in the mountains, or maybe actually being on an airplane.

For me, it’s the moment I switch from the relative calm of searching for myself in the real world, back to the unending search for signals and distractions in digital world.

I write a lot about distraction and disconnection here, not because I’ve got it all figured out, but because it’s an issue I struggle with, especially with finding a balance between the two.

It’s way too easy for me to get on my phone and spend hours on mindless tasks, and when I say hours it's no exaggeration. One Google search easily turns into ten, twenty, thirty. One article turns into a clickhole of largely meaningless and depressing news information gathering. A momentary check of Facebook quickly turns into an hour of “just scroll a little bit more!” Most days, being on my phone is the first thing I do in the morning, the last thing I do at night, and the thing I do many times in between to pass the time.

All of this is just a way I trick my mind into thinking it’s being productive, when in reality most of what I’m doing is entirely inconsequential. Worse, these are all things that take away from the time I could be doing something real, like writing this blog, or hiking, or connecting with friends, or applying for jobs, or calling my mother.

So when I disconnect, it’s for a purpose. When I disconnect, I do it so I can go searching instead.…

Searching for mindfulness.
Searching for my thoughts.
Searching for meaning.
Searching for me.

Not long ago I came back down the mountain from an excellent camping trip with a group of some of my closest friends. When we got close to the valley floor I switched off airplane mode and immediately began staring at that “Searching…” message in the upper corner, intently waiting for all those bars and signals to escort me back to the modern world.

But after a 10 second attempt, it gave me the “No Service” message instead of bars. I was disappointed, of course. I was eager to post to Instagram and Facebook to share with you all the majesty of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, John Muir’s Range of Light.

But then I remembered “Searching…”

When my phone was in airplane mode that weekend, instead of searching for a signal the whole time, I was doing the searching instead. It allowed me to read and spend quiet time with my own thoughts. It allowed me to share my love of camping with friends who hadn’t been in ages. It allowed me to watch as those friends’ eyes opened to the lessons of comfort, distraction, and expectation that come from the remote camping experience. It allowed us all to be present with each other in a way we’ve never been before, to bond in ways you can’t predict or replicate.

When I let my device do the searching, that means I’m searching for a way out. An excuse to be somewhere else. To add yet another method of distraction to my over-complicated world.

When I do the searching myself, that means I’m finally living.

I switched my phone back into airplane mode. This was the last moment of disconnection I would have for a while. It was our last moments together without all those distractions. Our last moments in the real world. And besides, I didn’t have a signal anyway.

Phone coverage will come and go, but what are you really searching for?

Are you searching for a constant digital connection using a combination of letters and pictures, or a perhaps more intermittent but deeper and more direct connection with those you actually care about?

Are you searching for a following of 1,000 on Instagram, or a following of 10 real friends who actually mean something to you?

Are you searching for more “likes,” or real love?

Like a dog that won't drop a toy
Worrying it back and forth
I can’t seem to drop this thought

Holding on is stressful
Clenching creates angst
Angst leads to turbulence
Worrying the mind into suspension

Letting go is a relief
Liberation creates space
Space leads to serenity
Unfencing the mind to run free

Leave it
Drop it
Don't worry it

Just let it go

A year ago today I launched Mindfulness Now. Boy does it make me happy to type that.

When I started this blog I had no idea where I’d be in life at this point. That’s always the case though. No matter how much we love to speculate, life just changes.

Did I know that in one year I would write 80 individual posts, collect over 35,000 pageviews, and get published in a pretty major online mindfulness website? I only dreamed of it. When I started this I wasn’t even sure if my close friends would pay attention, let alone 14,000 unique visitors (/humblebrag).

Did I know a year ago that this experience would lead me to quit my job so I could write and explore full-time? It wasn’t even on my radar. A funny thing happens when you get out of your comfort zone and follow your passion, instead of just going through the motions of life.

A year ago there were a number of things I hoped to get out of writing this blog. I wasn't exactly sure what I would find, but I'm trying not to fear the unknown so much these days. Now a year later, I’d like to believe all of these hopes came to fruition, or are at least in the process of growing their fruit.

The change in my mind was potent. I didn’t have to be restricted to one place, one thought, one group, or one desk. Writing made me feel free from the chains that society had put on me, and that I myself continued to wear.

This new found passion around writing spurred other related passions as well. Most notably, a passion for nature and outdoor activity. It spurred a renewal in old passions too, for things like music and dogs.

I have found a new and renewed set of joys, instruments that take me beyond my normal sphere. I found the start of a new path forward. I found my voice. Quite frankly, I found myself.

Finding that voice was a big deal. 

I tend to prefer things easy in life -- I search for comfort and routine and avoid conflict if I can. I like to think of myself as a peacemaker, but too often my peacefulness would morph into passivity. I would allow my life to pass by without really making an effort.

Writing this blog became the effort that I needed. It pushed me out of my comfort zone and into a public eye where confidence was required. 

The process hasn't always been easy. Sometimes I feel like I'm overstepping. Some of my ideas have been questioned. Sometimes a friend would worry that a post was about them, even though I can assure you I would never single anyone out.

But finally, despite it all, I pushed forward with confidence. I pushed forward in life. I stopped listening to the negative. The sympathetic voices who got it, externally and internally, became louder than the voices of dissent.

I’m still working on this one and I figure I always will. But I'm so appreciative to have found an outlet that is taking me in the right direction.

As much as I always enjoyed writing to myself, even way back when, I hesitated in publishing this blog. I spent months fretting over it. Fear held me back.
 
I’ve found though that posting your words in a public space is a whole new motivation to write better. My private journal entries were free-flowing, riddled with inconsistencies, and lacking in structure. This blog required me to start looking at my writing with an increasingly keen eye.

There’s something about putting your feet to fire that forces you to learn more about fires and feet. I’ve learned as much about my own style and how to set myself up for a good writing session, as I’ve learned what people are drawn to, what they like to hear, and especially what they need hear.

I am certain the English majors of the bunch will find all sorts of errors in my writing, and that's OK.  When I look back at blogs I wrote last summer, I definitely see an improvement, and for now that’s enough for me -- to keep improving.

This is clearly the biggest hope I had from creating this blog -- it's in the title afterall. Mindfulness is the blood flowing through the veins of this space. Mindfulness now weaves it’s way into all my thoughts...and thank god, because I needed it.
 
I had read about mindfulness and attempted to integrate it into my life for years. But like most great ideas in life, it's easier said than done. I would tell myself to live in the present moment, to let go of the drama, worry, and anxiety, but when I inevitably failed I would scream at myself on the inside. I knew better, yet I still made mistakes. I couldn’t follow my own advice.

But here I am one year later, and light-years down my path. I am far from perfect, lord knows. I still struggle with these issues every day. But I believe I have indeed become more mindful in the last year. I’m more in-tune with myself, better able to handle life’s ups and downs, to reduce my distractions (digital or otherwise), to be more patient with my response, to disconnect more often, be smarter about my decisions, and braver when it comes to the difficult ones.

Starting Mindfulness Now was possibly the best thing I’ve ever done for myself, and I can’t totally take credit for it because the idea came from Leo Babauta on his bellwether mindfulness blog Zen Habits. Also, gratitude goes to those friends and family who I discussed it with beforehand, for their support and especially the title suggestions.

All of that, all of them, all of you, all of the last year, all of my life, have led me to where I am now...someone who is learning, growing, passionate, confident, and just a little bit more mindful in the process.

This is why I call myself a journeyman (and not just for the solo camping journey hashtag). A journeyman is someone who is educated but not yet a master. I know a good deal about the tool of mindfulness, but I’m still learning how to use it every day. 

I might argue that we are all journeymen. I might argue that no one is ever a true master, because we’re all always learning. I might argue that this is one of my favorite things about life.

I now have a few years of mindfulness experience under my belt, one year that you’ve been privy to. Thinking about how far I’ve come in the last year with this blog gives me joy. Thinking of how far I’ll go throughout the journey of my life kind of blows my mind. 

And I can't wait to tell you all about it.

There are no consequences.

Alright, I know that's a bold thing to say, but bear with me for a minute.

A consequence is the negative repercussion of a mistake. Dictionary.com calls it an "end-result." That's basic. I get it.

But life itself is always changing. What seems like a negative consequence to a bad decision right now, could end up being a positive conquest in the future.

Why? Because there is no "end" result, it's all about the path. When you make a mistake and fail, that failure doesn't fall into a void, you learn a lesson and gain experience. While the failure might be difficult, it still teaches you something about yourself. It teaches you how to do better next time.

What you call a consequence, I call school. 

Now of course, there are real consequences out there for the truly stupid and cruel decisions, like jumping off a cliff or committing murder (for some obvious examples).

But I'm talking about the everyday decisions we make that turn out to be wrong - the miscalculation or spur of the moment choice that once in a while leads to true ramifications, but mostly just gives us an excuse to fabricate internal strife and regret.

Trial and error is the process by which we learn. If our goal in life is to grow, to become a better friend, a better photographer, a better musician, a better businessman, a better parent, a better partner, or really just a better person, then consequences are how we learn to grow up.

So I'm calling it out...there are no consequences. There are just ups and downs, arguments and adulations, accidents and achievements, examples and advancements.

Consequence as we know is the path to success, as long as you choose to use it that way.

Damn it felt good to be disconnected.

The connection addiction is endemic in our society. It’s one thing to catch up with friends, share a piece of your life, make plans, and discuss things you find important - that’s all well and good.  But the ability to do those things at any hour of the day, and the expectation that everyone you know should be available to do so as well, it's just unhealthy.

Social media is the drug and smartphones are the enabler. Together they give us a false sense of community, making us believe everyone is waiting with bated breath for our next update or text, when in fact everyone is just going about their own lives. And on the other side of the screen, our devices sit on our laps and in our pockets distracting us with deliciously tempting notifications, making us believe we should be waiting with bated breath for all your updates.

One of the main reasons I took off into the woods for three weeks was to put all my mindfulness overtures about turning off notifications and reducing distractions into practice. But it's 2015, so I expected I would have some basic level of phone service available to me for most of the trip. I knew I could stop at Starbucks or McDonald's to use WiFi. If nothing else, I hoped I'd at least have a smidgen of phone coverage for texts and calls in an emergency.

Out on the road I quickly realized that I'd seriously overestimated the strength of my network. Dead zones were vast and numerous. I drove for hours on small highways with no coverage whatsoever.  Many campgrounds would show a few bars, but when push-came-to-upload, nothing would work. A few campgrounds had no service at all, forcing me to make a call in a real live phone booth so at least someone knew I was alive.

When you spend most of your time in cities, it's not something you're used to.  If you believe the Verizon commercials, it's not something you'd expect.

At first it was frightening. My phone is an extension of me. It’s how I communicate with my friends and family. How I map my route and stream my music. It's how I write and update this blog. I’m so used to it always being there for me, whether I’m bored or in an emergency.

In a way, spending hours or sometimes days without phone service felt like I'd lost an arm. Despite all my pronouncements to the contrary, connectivity had become that important to me. To some degree, connectivity is important to all of us. It’s unavoidable in our modern society.

But as time rolled on I accepted my new reality. As Cheryl Strayed said in Wild, “This is what I came for, this is what I got.”

So I got used to it. A constant connection became the exception rather than the rule. When it was available, it became a treat.

By the end of the journey, I loved it. I actually preferred it. At my last destination I had three straight days of no phone service. I felt free, clear, calm, unrestricted, undisturbed, undistracted. I felt present.

I don't believe I’m a selfish person, but gleefully reveling in the fact that you all couldn't get in touch with me almost felt egotistical. I knew I was missing out on all your updates and the important news of the day. It’s not as though I lost all interest in sharing things with you either.

But I realized that being disconnected for a few days or weeks wasn't the end of the world. I would eventually be back on Facebook to catch up on life. Or better yet, I would eventually see you all in-person so you could fill me in on everything.

Rather than being the end of the world, disconnection was the beginning of a new world. One where FOMO was replaced by YOLO, distraction was replaced by presence, and anxiety still existed but it was related to the threat of bears rather than the stresses of multitasking.

There were times in the waning days of my trip when my phone did start working...notification bubbles popped up, my pocket buzzed, and a wave of texts crashed in.

But at that point I had broken the addiction. The temptation was gone and rather than check those notifications I switched my phone into airplane mode. It was my time to disconnect. It was my time to enjoy the break. It was my time.

I’m back in LA now where phones always work, pretty much everywhere. I've caught up with friends and even caught up a little with Facebook (though after being away from it for so long I’m finding it mildly tedious).

But truth be told, I miss the freedom of disconnection I found in my journey. I miss the mindfulness it practically forces upon you. I miss what it feels like to realize that you and you alone are in charge or your own entertainment, there is no depending on others or apps.

This may change as the days and weeks pass here in the real world. I’ll fall back into old habits, because that’s what people do.

But I’m going to do my best to hold on to as much of this lesson as possible. 

Phones always work here, except when you hike a little further out in the mountains. Phones always work, except when you switch it to airplane mode as a choice, just to take a break. Phones always work except when you choose to be present and ignore the temptation to post every detail of your life on Facebook.

We are only as connected as we choose to be. When you have the opportunity, choose real life over digital life. 

In case you didn't already get this from the sad, lament of a poem I posted few weeks back, I'm not good with goodbyes.

It can be anything from the end of a long vacation to the end of a dinner, and my heart sinks a little. I'd like to think it's because I love people so much and want to hold on to the good times as long as possible. I definitely know part of me is anticipating the melancholy I'll feel as I look back on it. Alas, I've already written on the topic.

Either way, I‘m acutely aware that this mournful pre-nostalgia isn't very mindful.

As I sat in my tent at Yosemite on the penultimate day of my journeyman trip, I was waiting for it. I always get bowled over in the waning days. I'm so aware of it at this point that my brain now sends out an early emotional-tsunami warning. Time to prepare for the coming tidal wave of nostalgia.

But the wave never came.

Out of all 7 national parks I visited, Yosemite is the only one for which I was already familiar. I've been there more than a few times. Growing up and now, it’s always been close to my heart.

For most of the rest of the trip though, each park, forest, trail and camp felt foreign and unfamiliar. Some literally felt otherworldly - Arches is like Mars, Zion is Venus, Yellowstone a wooded Neptune, Mount Hood like Pandora from Avatar, and Redwood is definitely Endor.

But as I arrived at Yosemite I was welcomed home with familiarity. The trees, the mountains, the view of valley itself, the smell of the woods, even the freeways and truck stops on the way, all familiar. Yosemite, to me, isn't another world, it's California. It's home.

So I knew the end of my journey was nigh - I could feel it. I should have been upset by this. I waited to turn the corner on a trail and have it suddenly jump out and attack me, like the bears they warn you about.

But the bear never growled. 

Maybe my journey was just long enough to make me home sick. Maybe I subconsciously planned it so I felt more comfortable as I got close to home. Maybe absence really did make the heart grow fonder and I missed the loved ones I'd left behind. 

Maybe, just maybe, I finally learned to be present and stop giving a shit about the past and the future, which was one of the intentions of the journey in the first place. 

I don't have an answer to this, my new reality. I was on this journey, primarily alone, for 19 days...it was the most time I've spent with only myself, ever...it was profoundly different than every other trip I've been on...it taught me a million things and it continues to teach me now that I’m home...I'm still sorting through it in my mind and will for god knows how long.

But there are already two glaringly apparent lessons:

• Confidence... in what I can accomplish, in my voice, in my decisions, in myself. I had many moments of weakness, but in each case I changed my mindset, found my footing, soldiered through, and in doing so I found strength.
• Mindfulness... on the road as in home, this is something I struggle with. It's why I write this blog. But the longer I was gone, the further away from my everyday patterns I got, the more cellphone deadzones I encountered, in each powerfully quiet moment in the company of natural wonders, the more *now* I felt.  

These are lessons I'm going to hold on to for dear life. No more contorting my mind around to-do lists and difficult decisions and who I'm offending and what mistakes I make or have made. No more overwhelming my mind with the past or the future, the things I can’t change. 

Right now is the only time that matters. Your right now could be the beginning of an amazing adventure or a the end of a difficult road, but no matter what, living in it with gusto is empowering.

Somehow, someway, on these pages I will attempt to explain this and all the other millions of thoughts this journey inspired. My new assignment is to contort my mind around the profound rather than the trivial.

This journey has changed me for the better.  Hopefully by writing this all down, my journey can help change you for the better too, at least a little bit. 

I'm feeling pretty anxious lately about the unknowns of my upcoming path, but I'm interrupting that anxiety right now to talk about the many people for which I'm grateful.

I have my dog...he's entirely stubborn and bossy, but his zeal, his unconditional love, his simplicity, and his life lived in the moment all help me get out of my head.

I have friends...they've counseled me, given me job advice, loaned me camping supplies for my journey, recommended books, offered a shoulder to lean on, and made me laugh when I was over-thinking it.

I have my mother...she's always been my biggest fan, cheering and encouraging me along through every step in life. And she's helped me prepare for this trip by being my voice of reason and caution (as every good mother should).

I have my boo...he's my partner, my fiance, my rock through all the ups and downs, and my best friend. For over 12 years now, he’s pushed me towards my better self. He has made me more confident in my decisions by getting me to take the extra time to really think through them. And even now as I leave him for an entirely selfish endeavor alone in the woods, he has supported me, loved me, encouraged me, provided for me, and hugged me.

In my mind I can run through a million different scenarios of how terrible my future might be. How risky it is to quit my job. How dangerous it could be to hike and camp alone. How lonely being alone just might feel.

I can allow my mind to be overrun with anxiety about the future...doubt over my decisions...predictions of impending regret. Or I can interrupt that anxiety with gratitude.

I remember that I have so many people to be grateful for. I remember that I’m blessed. I remember that no matter what happens, no matter where my path takes me, it's all going to be OK...because of all of them.

The word "friend" is incredibly amorphous. This is especially true on Facebook where you can be friends with such a wide range of individuals: people you've never actually met, people you knew 20 years ago, people you see in-person on occasion, and people you consider your besties.

Everyone has their own definition of what friendship truly means and every relationship, like everything in life, will change over time. Some friendships last a lifetime, so that even if you're apart for long periods of time you can always pick up right where you left off. 

But it's also true that your besties today may not be your besties tomorrow. And while it feels sad to even type that out, I wouldn't have it any other way. People come in and out of your life for a reason, it's all part of our path, all a lesson. No matter what type of friend they are, that's how you grow, whether that's growing together or apart.

I love all of my friends, no matter how close or far, because you all bring something different to my life. I refuse to place my expectations on any of you based on how I think you should act or how we should be. I choose to grow with the punches. I chose to have fun in life... with whoever cares to join me.

As the giant Coachella snail said, "if you want to go fast go alone. If you want to go far, go together."

It might come as a surprise to you considering I'm posting these very words on a very public blog, but I'm not always so good at expressing myself, especially not in-person. I tend to be thoughtful in what I say, overly-thoughtful at times, because when I say something I want to really mean it.

Not only does it take me a while to figure out what I want to say and how I want to say it, but even after I've said it, I often immediately think of how I could have said it better. 

This blog is easy, because I can edit something for days, weeks, and sometimes months (seriously, there are a few screeds I've been editing since last July and they're still not ready to be posted), I can even edit my posts after they've been published, which is good (I enjoyed rethinking my post about Boyhood last week) and bad (I edit my posts after they've been published ad nauseam).

Real life doesn't give you an edit button. Once you say something, it's out there. That permanence bothers me. All permanence bothers me. I'm fluid, I live on change, or at least I live on the hope that things will always change, eventually.

The digital age makes it worse--it encourages us to self-edit and filter our lives to present a certain image.

But putting your thoughts out there, telling people how you feel, and being your honest self are all extremely important aspects of mindfulness. It's the difference between being present and speaking your mind, or worrying about the future so you throttle your voice.

Honesty doesn't mean you have to be an asshole either, spouting off the first thought that comes to mind no matter how hurtful. I'm certainly not advocating against tact. There are plenty wonderfully caring people who are present and true to themselves and honest in what they say. I'd like to think I'm someone who is kind. but a little more reserved. We all fall somewhere in the spectrum.

More and more, I've learned the importance of expressing myself, openly, fully, outwardly. It can be uncomfortable, but it's oh so important.

This blog is an exercise in expressing myself. I've been writing my thoughts down for a while now in private, and that's another way I express myself. In the last few years I've made more of an effort to foster open dialogs with the people I love, from my family to my partner to my friends. At times I've specifically made an effort to stop and think, "why do I enjoy spending time with this person?" I write down the answer and then I tell that friend in-person so they know how much they mean to me.

I've found that the more open I am with others—the more I express myself—the more true and honest expressions I get back. This might be the biggest benefit of it all, because when I'm honest and tell someone about my anger, joy, anxiety, or contentment, they're more likely to be honest to me, tell me how they feel, and we start a dialog. It brings us closer together as friends, as family, as partners in life.

This is my March monthly challenge to you: EXPRESS YOURSELF

Every morning this month, pause and remind yourself to be more honest—let people into your life, think about how you filter yourself on social media, be honest with yourself, and write down how you feel. 

That expression, that acknowledgment of who you are, that's how you grow. It helps you process your emotions and become more mindful.

Write something down that's true about yourself. Right now. Pick up the phone, send an email, or punch out a text to a friend to tell them why you love them. Right now. Notice how good it feels to get that off your chest.

The time for mindfulness is now.

Not tomorrow.
Or next Monday, next month, next Memorial day.

Now.

Not in a New Years resolution.
Or after you birthday, a baby, a big vacation.

Now.

Not in an hour.
Or after one more Facebook scroll, another soapbox rant, a clickbait binge.

Now.

Not when you finish that big project.
Or when you find that new job, get out of debt, meet your dream man.

Now.

You can always find an excuse.
There's always a way to delay another day.

Stop waiting.

The time for mindfulness is now.

Relationships are complicated and beautiful. Whether it's a buddy, a bestie, a boo, or a bride, relationships are like two magnets--there's a mutual interest that's pulling you together and an eagerness to find out just how close you'll end up. If you're lucky, the act of coming together will lead to love... you know, the strongest binding force we've developed as a species. 

Relationships are also a work in progress. They're constantly developing, shifting, evolving. There's no sense in worrying about that unknown future, but it's noble to put in an extra effort to foster those relationships so they have their best chance. It's always ok to strive for love. 

I do a lot of reading about mindfulness (I know, I'm obsessed) and it's pretty common for the things I read to cross over into Buddhist philosophy. Now, I'm no Buddhist, I'm not a lot of things, but I'm of the mindset that no matter what you believe there's a lot of wisdom to be gained from all faiths, all philosophies, all people. 

Here's a Buddhist philosophy that's particularly on point about relationships: to give is to gain. 

I think a lot of us go out there looking for a connection, searching for a friendship, waiting for that perfect man to come along. We want people to love us, and of course we do, it feels all warm and fuzzy.

But there's a big difference between wanting  love and actually being loved. Buddhists believe that in order to truly be loved, you shouldn't waste all your energy looking for it, asking for it, demanding it--you should just show it. 

It's kind of like karma. It's kind of like that Beatles lyric, "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make." It's kind of like being a good person, a loving person, a thoughtful and giving person, and then watching as those same qualities find their way back to you in unexpected ways.

The more you demand love from those around you the more you look like an asshole, and assholes don't get a whole lot of love (unless you're Kanye West I guess).

So this is my advice to all of you this Valentine's... show your love. 
*Freely give out your compassion, your appreciation, your smile. 
*Connect with with the people you want to get to know better. 
*Be honest and open with those you care about. 
*Help a friend when they need it. 
*Laugh with a friend when they need that too. 
*Tell your significant other that you love them, as often as you possibly can. 
*Hug, long and hard, like you mean it.

Basically, spread love without any expectations of receiving it back. 

It's then, and only then, that you'll feel real love from those around you. Because real love is infectious and it'll come back to you in spades.

We live in a world of a million options. At any given moment, there are a tons of different things we could be doing. On Facebook alone (at least on my newsfeed) I could spend all day following links, watching youtube videos, exploring photo albums, listening to music, commenting, liking, posting, ad nauseum. It truly is a clickhole. 

But what am I really accomplishing by spending my time this way?

The answer is... nothing, I'm accomplishing mostly nothing at all. Sure, it keeps me up to date on the latest news from my friends and family. It fills me in on current events and Hollywood gossip, giving me something to talk about when I'm out in the real world. So there is some value to it.

But as far as my personal growth, my forward progress, I'm lost. Any benefit from it is easily negated by the damage done to all the other parts of my life that I'm neglecting.

As with most things, there's both a good and bad side to this. I wrote this blog post some weeks ago while I was on a plane, and as I typed away I was repeatedly distracted by the gorgeous view outside my window of California's bright green, rolling hills and epic, snow capped Sierra Nevada mountains. This was a good distraction. Taking a moment marvel in the beauty of nature is never a waste. 

But then what about those times when you spend a few hours trolling around Facebook instead of getting on that writing project you've been meaning to tackle. Or when you play a video game all day instead of going on that hike with your friends. Or you when you stay home night after night watching mindless "reality" TV shows instead of engaging in the actual reality that's all around you.

I believe in balance, so there's absolutely nothing wrong with distractions up to a certain point. Life shouldn't be all serious all the time--ugh, that would totally suck--but life isn't just a bunch of fun and games either.

The serious parts of life are the lessons, the growing pains, all the conversations and questions that are a central part of who we are as humans. The fun times are there too for a much needed mental break, to lighten the load so we can recharge before going back to this meaningful business we call life.

Figure out a way to engage in both sides. Do it even when real world stuff hurts a little bit. Push yourself to get away from the comfort of distractions and out into the life-affirming waters of the present. It may be difficult at first, but I swear, in the end, you'll be happy with the results.

Our basic animal instinct is to survive.  After that, I'd say our basic human instinct is to live. That's not the mere act of being alive, but the much more powerful act of actually living--creating love, exploring our earth, finding a fulfilling path, meeting some amazing souls along the way, and maybe passing down your experience to others who will carry your torch.

Or to say all that in a word: happiness.

But there are a lot of obstacles in the way of our path to happiness. There are the obstacles our society has created through social and economic constructs and those we create in our own mind. The problems of society are big picture, and we should all do our part to right those wrongs. But that's not what this blog is really about--this blog is about each of us, individually, doing all we can do make our personal world a better one.

One of the biggest obstacles we create for ourselves comes from the world of the unknown. If you think about it, this problem runs deep: fear of what the future might entail leads to worry and anxiety, fear of how our decisions are perceived by others leads to indecisiveness and regret, fear of the how those same decisions will play out in the long-term leads to doubt and second-guessing. 

I think a lot about the unknown. Sometimes this is good thing--pondering our universe and it's endless possibilities almost hurts your brain, but it's a good hurt. Visualizing yourself in a successful and happy place can give you the positive affirmation you need to help get you there.

But spending too much time in the realm of the unknown is a slippery slope. There are only a few precious hours of life we get every day, and spending them lost in a sea of contemplation about what tomorrow may bring--how a particular scenario will play out, or how someone will feel about you in a week, where your relationship will be a year from now--that'll just drive you insane. 

Worrying about the unknown is a fool's errand where we squander our time attempting to predict the future instead of mindfully focusing on the present. It's a wild goose chase as the mind of today scrambles to try and capture some insight into the mind of tomorrow. And just when we think we've captured the goose--that we've somehow figured it all out--reality comes and plucks the goose away, proving to us once again that all our predictions were totally misguided.

We all struggle with the unknown. Those of us whose lives seem stable--relationships, jobs, cars, dogs, white picket fences, 2.5 kids--worry about all that falling apart come tomorrow morning. Those of us whose lives seem to be in flux--breakups, fights, unemployment, financial woes, shared custody--worry how to ever find the relative peace of stability again.  And no matter how our lives are perceived by others, most of us don't fall into either camp but rather find ourselves somewhere in between.

It's only natural, because in each of our individual pursuits of happiness, there will always be bumps along the way--there will be good times and bad. We can use our time and energy worrying and wallowing in the bad times, or we can take a deep breath and be here now instead.

It’s time to think about what we can control in the present and start controlling it. The only way to create a better tomorrow is to use your energy working on a better today.

The unknown is a powerful force that can pull us in many unforeseen and unmindful directions, if we let it. So don't let it. Starting right now, make a conscious commitment to set the unknown aside. Let it stay in the darkness until that one day in the future when it's finally real, when it's finally known. 

And in the meantime, live your best life, be your best self, love all that you can, and understand that being happy here and now does way more to forecast your future than all your best predictions combined.

The title of the song loosely translates to "old time gone." I always thought the opening line was odd: "should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind?" Are you suggesting I end my oldest friendships and pretend they never existed?

But the question being asked is rhetorical. The answer to it is no, no you shouldn't forget your true friends. You never should. That question, and indeed the entire song, is a call to mindfulness. It asks you to take a moment as the year is ending to reflect on what is most important to you, on who is most important to you. To remember the challenging times of the past year, we've all had them to varying degrees, but also to remember the love and friendship that made those times a little easier, we've all had those to varying degrees as well.

Thank you to all my friends, nay family, who've been there for me in 2014, in good times and bad. You know who you are. I love you. Let's grow auld together.

You gotta have friends, so says Bette.

There are the types of friends you laugh with and the types you can cry with; ideally your best friends are both.

But as adults, these types of friends are harder to come by. When you're growing up, especially in school, you spend hours a day with your friends. In college, you might even live together. It's easy to foster close bonds when you're in such close proximity and you hold close interests (class, sleeping, and partying, in no particular order).

After college many go their separate ways. Lives begin to revolve around jobs and family and the distance grows. Maintaining friendships and fostering new ones requires a lot more effort.

Enter the digital age. Facebook, Twitter, et all promises to bring us closer together, and in many ways they do. You can stay in touch (or at least stalk) friends from near and far: travel with them on vacation, watch their kids grow, follow their marathon training, wish them a happy birthday.

For all intents and purposes, you're connected, you're keeping in touch, you're friends. But if that's all you do--sit behind a computer screen and maintain a passive relationship--are you really friends?

This kind of passive digital friendship is dangerous. It's easy to get jealous when you watch your "friends" hang out with their friends in the form of check-ins and selfies. How come we haven't developed that close relationship? Why wasn't I invited to that party?

You're so close, you can see every little update, but yet you feel so far away.

So how do you change this? How do you build real, meaningful, friendships in an age where most of what you see of your friends can be broken down to digital code on a far away computer server?

It's time to foster the friendship:

1. Be confident. Before you can really spend anytime working on creating better friendships, you need to work on creating a better you. Build a foundation for yourself. A friendship can help your well-being, but your well-being shouldn't be dependent on a friendship. 
2. Be motivated. If you enjoy someone's company and quietly wish you were closer with them, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. Send them a message, an email, a text, or maybe even (gasp!) give them a call. Start a dialog, start a better relationship.
3. Be proactive. Don't sit at your computer watching them have a fun time wishing you were a part of it. Ask them to dinner, a movie, a coffee, a hike. Make your own fun times.
4. Be persistent. Don't just send a message with a "we should hang out!" Make a REAL effort to get together. Make a plan.
5. Be honest. If this is someone who might truly be a close friend, you have to be yourself, not put up some act.
6. Be consistent. You spent some time together and you realized how much you just "get" each other. Say so! Tell them you had a good time. The follow up is how you continue to grow in that friendship.
   

All these things sound like dating advice and, in reality, there isn't much difference between getting to know a friend and getting to know a boy or girl-friend. Friendships are relationships too. If you sit at home drinking wine and clicking "like" you're not going to meet a new friend or a new partner. 

In both cases you're looking for another person to connect with. In both cases you need to put in a little effort to see how deep that connection will go.

Meaningful relationships don't just happen to you, they happen because of you.

It doesn't always work out. Maybe the connection just isn't there for them. That's fine, everyone is unique, not everyone will gel. You can choose to get upset by this, or you can choose to turn to your other friends, see what other relationships you can foster, meet new people and connect with them.

It's not a finite process. No relationship, friendship or romantic, is static, nor should it be.

Keep learning, keep meeting, keep fostering, keep making an effort. The possibilities are endless.