My wheels stir up the wet streets and wet my back. I am driving home from sport, feeling cozy and then a yellow flash overtakes me. It’s a young lady in my age. Straight posture, yellow reflection vest, easy cycling. Very provocative! My blood starts boiling and sends shockwaves of energy into my sore legs. Survival instinct kinda equals self destruction mode. we’re racing against the wind. the yellow lady never notices our race. she just short-circuits my brain and some cave-man instincts leave me kicking my pedals aggressively till my sweat mixes in same quantity with the rain. seconds before potential blackout i notice the thin black battery bank behind her seat and realise what epic picture i produced for the passing cars. my short-circuited brain didn’t notice the contrast of us two competitors. only the headlights revealed it periodically. the erect girl full of sophistication and safety equipment and the messy guy breathing heavily on his rusty bike without lights. i was trying hard to catch up with her.

despite all this exaggeration i like to talk in, this story shall lead to purpose, the determination to chase a dream like a dying biker. i never work alone on my boat, since escaping my mothers belly my mind is my companion – inhabiting a heavy brain and always hungry for knowledge. i trace that back to my grandpa, who’s quest for knowledge controls his whole life. it’s neurotic. passing cities must be researched for their inhabitants and domestic growth product. i’m a big fan of that genuine curiosity which accepts no excuse, i’d be a hooligan if there was a club. when i work, i continuously need to feed that hungry animal with podcasts, or deep dives in my mind. that’s the tigers two meals, input from the outside, and input by exploring my inside. so this week the flow of podcasts led me me to the important question of dreams, which accompanied me in all my mundane activities you’ll see listed in the end.

I am talking of dream as purpose. a goal you can stretch your hand to and then you define that divine stretch as the sense of your life. when you strive, to close the gap between what is and what you want, that’s basically purpose. now i’d like to paint two stereotypes of human strivers. the first is hasty and without orientation. he’s called the modern man, the ground was pulled from under his feet after the industrialisation and all the wars. he’s still merely tripping forward, unrooted from nature which once filled his life with sense. this dissatisfaction leaves him an easy target for modern economy. it pretends to grab his yearning hand but acts no different than the carrot in front of a horse carriage. suggesting relief, but creating new “needs” from minute to minute so to use our poor modern mans disorientation.

the other stereotype is the illiterate neanderthal with his simple joys. i don’t even mind him ascending from his cave and becoming a farmer or something. important is just that he doesn’t stop touching nature. sniffing grass, milking cows, feeling the rain. he’s in physical touch with his nature and it’s inherent purpose. the every-moment-beauty of bursting flowers and humming bees. he doesn’t intellectualise into future and past because he doesn’t need to! he escapes the logic world but being a simple feeling man. Today only indigenous tribes are able to match that godly illiterate, they still derive their purpose from all prevailing beauty and dignity.

so the divine stretch emerges from inability to live happily in the moment, it seems a little hint of nature to rethink your direction. now that i am clearly a carrot chasing modern man i can’t live without this divine stretch. i need a purpose to feel that my life makes any sense. and here comes the important road fork. the decision between heroism and mediocracy. purpose is a two split phenomena, you can chase societies dream or your own dream. the intrinsic and the extrinsic motivation. the carrot and the apple (or whatever is your favourite food). carrot is a nice and smooth path but the intrinsic is a tough nut since it means you need to feel deep into your subconscious. no intellectualisations allowed anymore, that shit is our modern age devil. feel into the needs of your subconscious. deep and honest. it’s difficult for the modern man, but necessary to end the endless chasing. chasing the intrinsic dreams means reconnecting with your deeper mind and nature. it’s a reorientation back to the inner illiterate, creating a third stereotype – a superior one. the conscious illiterate. the man that had it all and gave it all away. the monk who sold his ferrari. if you dream your own dreams they will soon cease to loose their grimness and start actually enriching your life. they’ll stop being the painful divine stretch and shed their skin to reveal their playful thriving character. but you gotta kill your little modern man and it’s tough.

these philosophical ramblings sprung from a phone call i had one evening. the question arose if you should force towards your dream or just do whatever you feel like. i think it requires some initial forcing since its less comfortable to dig into what you really want instead of chasing societies dream. what you really want usually is different from societies expectation so it creates some initial painful friction to lean against it.

now the promised mundane list: i made my mind heavily work on these philosophical tasks so my hands had some free time. they worked arduously this week! they fed many birds with stolen baguettes. my boat is stocked with water, gasoline, food and cheap wine. the inside of my boat is finished, nets secure fruits and vegetables and allow them to breathe. i sew bags all over the walls, my shelves can hold their items now even in storms i hope. nothing worse than soaked books and shattered plates on the floor when you surf 10 meter waves. i harden my character as a sea gypsy by the pieces of wood and trash treasures lying everywhere but a secret order controls the chaos. i’ve tackled electric installations, but ran away from the monster sitting in the belly of my boat. my yanmar diesel engine. out of fear i ignored it and made it grew into a fire spitting dragon and maybe i just made that up to end this story with calling me a (future) dragon slayer. it’s intimidating for real. ok so now chase your dreams, but the illiterate ones please!