Know its inevitability. Ride its currents.
After getting freaked out, realize that being freaked out changes nothing. Might as well see the unfolding of an uncertain event as the unwrapping of a gift.
Know its inevitability. Ride its currents.
After getting freaked out, realize that being freaked out changes nothing. Might as well see the unfolding of an uncertain event as the unwrapping of a gift.
Heath Ledger’s Joker [The Dark Knight (2008)] has a monologue that goes: “Nobody panics when things go ‘according to plan’… even if the plan is horrifying. If tomorrow I told the press that, like, a gang-banger will get shot, or a truckload of soldiers will be blown up, nobody panics, because it’s all part of the plan…I’m an agent of chaos. Oh, and you know the thing about chaos? It’s fair.”
It is definitely true that our psychology allows us to accept tens of thousands of deaths from drug interactions or auto accidents, but then we will go to outlandish extents — billions upon billions of dollars — to avoid the possibility of a couple of terrorism fatalities. We would use resources much better if we were not so panicky about uncertainty.
Swimming in the deeps.
Swimming day in and day out until my buoyancy became an incontrovertible fact of nature that not even my amygdala could deny.
Going the places that scare you.
I’m fond of primitive living skills and unarmed martial arts that train against armed opponents. There’s something about stripping away all technologies that you can’t build yourself in the moment that gives one faith in one’s capability far deeper than a high GPA, a good paying job, or any of the usual markers of success in today’s world. I highly doubt any cavemen experienced Imposter Syndrome. If you managed to be alive into adulthood, you had an intuitive understanding that you were some kind of awesome. Not so in the modern world.
A dancing dragon winds
through streets of Chinatown.
Head pivots, nods, and turns
as it looks all around.
I hope its golden eye
will not catch sight of me
because its big, curved fangs
do not look so friendly.
You may say its paper,
and those teeth can't do harm,
but there's life in its moves
that's cause of my alarm.
What skill would you like to learn?
FREEDIVING.
Over the years, I’ve read many books about survival in extreme or unexpected situations. Here are five of my favorites.
THE UNTHINKABLE by Amanda Ripley [Full Review]
What I like about this book: Ripley focuses heavily on the topic of mindset while exploring a wide range of survival situations from being stranded in a lifeboat to being in the Twin Towers on 9/11. It’s a fascinating – as well as educational – book.
SURVIVAL AT THE EXTREMES by Kenneth Kamler [Full Review]
What I like about this book: This book focuses on surviving in all the places humans are not adapted to, places where one cannot live for long without ongoing technological support. These places include Mt. Everest (with which the author has personal experience,) the ocean, and the harshest of deserts. Kamler is a medical doctor and the book, therefore, does a good job of explaining the limits of human physiology.
EXTREME FEAR by Jeff Wise [Full Review]
What I like about this book: Wise’s book examines how fear can work against us in challenging situations (e.g. causing one to freeze at the wrong time) and what methods have been developed to overcome such crippling or inappropriate fear responses. This book is not entirely about life-and-death survival, but it does have a lot to say that is relevant to the subject.
INTO THE WILD by Jon Krakauer [Full Review]
What I like about this book: This book is not like the others. There are no physical or mental techniques for survival described in it, nor discussions of physiology. Rather, it is an extremely well-written cautionary tale about a young man who goes out into the wilderness and gets in over his head. It is highly readable food-for-thought.
98.6 by Cody Lundin [Full Review]
What I like about this book: This is the closest thing to an actual survival manual on my list. But it’s written in conversational, folksy style that makes it easy to read, despite the daunting subject matter. As the title suggests, Lundin’s central premise is that one must keep the body burning at its appropriate temperature, or else…

After dark —-
A city park —-
There runs the thing
That comes to life
By night.
Caged in stillness
Through sunlit hours.
Its night persona
Is blurred movement
Seen only from the
Corner of an eye.
It stays near deep shadow,
Beyond the lamp lit arcs.
Where is it?
No one knows,
But if one were to
Check the cathedral
Spire, you’d find
Only an impenetrable
Void…
until sunup.
in a flat, wide river:
something juts up
from the water --
far in the distance
for an instant,
i startle:
seeing it as an
extended arm...
like that Stevie Smith
poem, but i discover
it's neither waving,
nor drowning, but
merely protruding...
a dead limb
stuck in the river,
drag & pull balanced,
waiting to be
carried away.