What Is It You Want To Do With Your One Wild And Precious Life?

Lost In The Algorithms — Odyssey # 40

Camped out in my regular nook at the local coffee shop, surrounded by the heady mix of bean brew, Rilke’s words hit me like a caffeine jolt, “The only journey is the one within.”

Man, if that doesn’t sum up the circus, that’s been my life.

Here I am, inching closer to the big 4–0, a scribbler of words, a dad by some miracle, and a soul forever lost in the supermarket of existential conundrums. Each sip of my Americano, as dark and brooding as my current novel, mirrors the tangled web of my own storyline.

And then there’s her, my muse, or maybe just a figment of my over-caffeinated brain, taking her usual phantom seat across from me. Is she the real deal or just another character vying for a chapter in my book of life?

Today, something feels different.

Maybe it’s the fourth espresso talking, but I find myself drifting towards her, the keeper of my untold tales, “Dabbling in Oliver’s musings, huh? Planning to wrangle your one wild and precious life into words?” A nod to her ever-present literary companion.

Our chat, if you could even call it that, was this weird tango of the tangible and the imagined, a dance of hidden hopes…