The Albino Crocodile

I just watched 2 short videos about albino crocodiles. Creatures that probably should not exists if not for the creation of new habitats by Man.

In August of 2009, I left the United States for a new habitat; different and strange, South Korea was so foreign to me. But now I find myself somehow transported all these years later to the desert of Saudi Arabia. In 8 days, from now my contract in this habit will end. Crossroads. I am not the same creature ho left the USA so many years ago and thus I don't really know where I fit in.

HOME - what is this word and where is this place? As I prepare to change habitats again, I find myself lost and certainly alone. Will I meet other albino crocodiles who exists outside of place and time? Will I stick out like a giant black and white panda walking down Central Ave? Or will I make may way to some other local. A secret place. Where everyone there understands my language?


From a link posted by Andrew Meadors

Stalker or Shadow: D Birdy

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She was the first digital nomad I met. Her smile was 3 parts charm and 1 part sexy. Her brain was 100 percent turned on and tuned in to the things that matter in life. We never got the chance to be close close friends, yet we have stayed connected over the years. We sort of individually inspire each other to keep pushing forward and be greater than being comfortable allows a person.

So we live in the place where growth and change are as interchangeable as air and breath.  She will always be The birdy soaring to new heights and I will be the shadow. Also soaring but less noticed and much closer to the ground.

D Birdy.

The grass is always greener outside of Saudi.

Mostly because grass is not exactly native to the desert.

I have been doing some soul searching lately and that is probably going to be an on going project. One thing I have learned is that there are a few people in this world who are landmarks. People who are at the right place at the right time and guide you into who you become. 

I have a friend like this. I once told her that "When I think about you, I think about writing a book about making all the wrong choices, going on adventures, and ending up with a person who accepts your flaws. I want you to be my ending."

No matter how your day started, I hope you finish it well and I hope you find the right landmarks to build a wonderful life. Keep living in the moment.

Marcus

Looking at political progressiveism from one of the most conservative places on earth

Two things being true does not make one thing less true. Every economic messenger does not need to be versed in every progressive issue. But if you want to eventually become a serious contender and not a way to just generate mid level support for the party as a whole, then Bernie needs to address each of the multitude of progressive activists issues. BLM, issues about fair pay for men and women, the corrupt and corporate run correctional system that has become a second slave state, the mis-appropriation of the war on drugs, a global economy vs failing us cities, etc. Each of the groups in these arenas have more in common that what separates them.

So we need to figure out a way to stop fighting over how we are different and focus on how we are the same. As a Black man who is not yet been killed by the police or suckered into the legal shell game of incarceration slave labor, maybe I am missing something. I don't have any skin in the game (although my skin is black and I do have a life). But I am also cis gendered and care about the rights of people who identify differently than I do. I have a stable, yet unsettling job, but certainly care about the economic disparity that exists, and so on. None of us is One Thing or can live in a world where we only care about one thing. Because if we do that, our One Thing will become almost important and end up as nothing.

Where is Home

Over the next couple of weeks, I have a lot to write about. I just took an amazing 5 week trip around SE Asia and spent time traveling with a couple of good friends at different parts of my trip. But I will regail you with stories from those adventures in the coming weeks. 

Today, I had a long chat with my favorite digital nomad, Desiree Kane, and she share a an article she wrote about life as a digital nomad. Her worlds cut right to the bone of some of what I have been feeling lately. WayfaringTechNomad

My response to her article is listed below.

Thank you for sharing this with me and everyone else who lives this life and knows these emotions. I left the USA in 2009 with no real plan of becoming a nomad. It just sort of happened piece by piece and momemt by moment. Home started to become as mythical as Nirvana and Utopia or Zeus and Thor. I still have friends in a place that I often refer to as home, but having spent exactly 9 months there since 2009, I am not sure what that means anymore. Home. I don't love my friends any less and I couldn't possibly miss them any more, but the road is my drug of choice and I am an addict. 

I don't mean to make a life of travel sound morbid and depressing, although there are some days when I just need a hug from an old friend. What I mean to say is that once you start learning to exist anywhere, you exist everywhere. My mind is my personal cloud storage and every expat bar, mom and pop Vietnamese noodle shop, Thai moo ping street food vendor, turbo prop plane ride from Chiang Mai to Luang Prabang are my analog interfaces to my digital nomadic life. 

Happy is how other people see me and often how I feel. But when I am not happy, I am lonely and lost. Waiting for that next inspiration to send me spiraling towards some unknown destination and adventure. I don't know if I will ever know a HOME again, but it's nice to know that I am not really alone.

Marcus L. Williams

In the Moment

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Can I get a witness?

Over the course of my life I have often felt slightly removed.
Slightly removed from people.
Slightly removed from places.
Slightly removed from things.
Slightly removed from the hear and now.

It has been a life long struggle to remain present and find connection. This may come as a surprise in that I have many wonderful friends and family who mean the world to me. But none-the-less, I am often a specator in my own life. That is until recently.

For what may be the first time in MY ADULT LIFE, I have felt connected to something larger and more meaningful than my next sensory experience. And I own it all to the various volunteers who came together to make Barack Obama our president. Of course his words and demenor are the unifying force, but it is the people. The People. The people who have made me feel alive.

My friend Shannon took a series of photos that have captured the essence of what I have been feeling yet not able to put into words.

A collective moment.

And while I still struggle to put into words what the last one and a half years have meant to me, I know that I am no longer a spectator.
I am a participant.

So I ask: Can I get a witness? I can no longer watch from the sidelines. The game is in play and I am on the field.