Last year, I began to lift weights more seriously. My heaviest weights at the time were a pair of 30lbs dumbbells. I struggled with them in the beginning, but over time, as I grew stronger, they went from my heavy weights to my medium weights. Today, my heaviest are a pair of 40lbs dumbbells, and for most exercises, they’re heavy enough to make me work. For a few, though, they’re starting to feel light.

I became stronger through consistency and perseverance. Lately, I’ve been growing lazier and lazier in other areas of my life, from writing and reading to playing my guitar and keeping up with my chores. I can attribute some of that to the coronavirus and the lockdown from earlier this year but not all of it. The rest of it is on me, and I have to do better. I want to do better.

My thoughts have been on photography lately, on lenses and camera bodies, on techniques and workflows. Yesterday I watched an episode of The Big Bang Theory where Sheldon viewed an old VHS tape of his father giving a pep talk to his high school football team and how that inspired him to keep going. I had an old flip phone that didn’t have a camera when my father died, and I picked up my iPhone and wondered how different life would be if I owned a device like that when he lived. I don’t have any video of my dad, and I’ve forgotten what he sounded like. Sometimes I have dreams of him where I hear his voice, but then I wake up and remember he’s gone.

Capturing the world and etching it all in words and photos and videos and sound has been my driving focus for so long that I wonder now how much of it was driven by the fear of forgetting than the act of creation. My dad didn’t leave much behind when he passed, and I remember how sad that made me feel when I went through his things with my family and tossed most of it away. How much of my life is hidden behind passwords and composed of 1s and 0s? What, if anything, will I leave behind when I pass?

I’ve been alone for so long that I fear my legacy will be the same as my father’s: a few things my family will trash and a memory that will fade away quickly.

Spent the night getting drunk and watching fireworks on TV. I know our president gave a speech somewhere that was controversial, but I mostly kept my attention focused elsewhere. I’ve been watching YouTube videos on the new lens I purchased yesterday and that has only made me more excited. It’s a macro lens, and I’m already brainstorming ways to use it. This will be my third lens, and I can’t wait to get my hands on it.

Fireworks went off for hours last night, and I couldn’t go to sleep until midnight. Today my plan is to be lazy and see if I can’t finish the rest of the beer I purchased on Friday. I return to work tomorrow. I spent the last week poking at my new novel idea, but I have to settle down and work on it some more this week. I like this idea but it’s ambitious and tough. Like America. I’ve found it tough to be a proud American during our presidents reign of terror, but I know we’ll get through it. We have to.

Earlier this week, I turned on Do Not Disturb on all of my devices and set my phone to silent. I wanted to live my life without my devices controlling my time, and at first, I failed. I kept checking them for new notifications anyways, but after a few days of trying to stop this habit, I began to notice the quiet. I listened more, and I slowed down. Over the last day, I’ve begun to check them more and more, which tells me that modifying my behavior will be tough. I’ve also slept in the past few days and have enjoyed the extra energy. How much better would life be if we all got more sleep and relied on our devices less?

Today I bought a new lens for my camera, and it should arrive sometime next week. I hope to continue expanding my walls and adventuring outside more, but changing a lifetime of habits is tough and will take time. I had a lot of fun last week, though, and I have to keep reminding myself of that. I hope this new lens will help with this.

America also celebrates her independence today, and I plan to stay inside and drink some beer. Just like our forefathers wanted.

One fear I want to overcome is the fear of carrying my mirrorless camera with me outside. I wanted to take a picture of the mountains near my home, but I didn’t when I came across a stranger. He minded his own business, but I felt shy. Why do I find the act of taking pictures nerve-wracking sometimes? It might be the attention. It might be that I’m projecting my own thoughts and emotions onto other people. I have to remind myself why I want to take pictures in the first place: because it’s fun.

Today, Bandcamp is waiving their revenue share to help artists impacted by the coronavirus. I spent almost $70 on new music today, and I couldn’t be happier. It’ll help me forget that we’re living through an apocalypse. I wish other people got the memo, though. Traffic yesterday was insane. Too many people from out of state are coming into Montana, and I’m worried that yesterday’s 67 new cases will be a drop in the bucket later in the summer.

At least Hamilton is now on Disney+.

I dreamt that someone close to me was dying. She lied beside me, and I felt her heartbeat. It was fast but I expected it to slow down and then stop. I woke up before that happened. How many of us aren’t lucky enough to wake up from a nightmare?

I returned to this view of the mountains because it brings me peace. I understand how lucky I am to live where I do, and I’m grateful. The sky should clear up by the weekend, and I hope I have the courage to step out of my house and explore my home.

Life is too short. I want to live. I want to make every heartbeat count.

Battled through a headache for most of the day, but I managed to find peace in the storm clouds. I took a right turn on my way home and saw this view of the mountains I’ve never seen before. I’m beginning to understand the appeal of driving down back roads and getting lost in my backyard. There will always be new sights and new experiences, and that gives me joy in this time of great pain.

Scientists found a new virus in pigs that they say has pandemic potential. Meanwhile, Dr. Fauci says he expects America to hit 100,000 new coronavirus cases a day. Some states are closing down again, and Montana set a record of new cases on the first two days of this week. School reopens in a few weeks, but how many of us actually expect to be back in the classroom by then? All I can do is turn off my screens, open my notebooks, and write.

I dreamt that I told the devil to fuck off, then heard a young child’s joyful laughter as I lied frozen in bed. I hadn’t had night terrors in a long time, and I forgot how terrifying they can be. I fell back asleep and dreamt that a pair of demons chased me but stopped when I introduced them to YouTube. One of them looked like Keith David, and I think we were having a good time but then my alarm went off.

I felt sad yesterday, and I wasn’t sure why. I thought about seasons and the space in between them. I’m in the middle of a transition, but I’m unsure of where I’m going. I tried to focus on my tools to get a semblance of control back into my life, and I felt like a pendulum swinging back and forth between digital and analog tools. I spent last night playing my guitar and reading Kafka on the Shore in bed. I set my devices to do not disturb and wrote in my notebooks. This phase is quiet. The rain sounds nice.

I spent most of yesterday thinking about changes and I spent most of this morning thinking about home. I want to focus on the things that matter this summer, and to accomplish this, I have to reduce as many distractions as possible. I deactivated Facebook and Instagram, and I deleted Snapchat from my phone. I want to own my content and have my own home online to store them. Saturday’s river excursion expanded my view on what it means to live in a place, and I came away inspired. As self-evident as this sounds, my home isn’t the four walls and a roof that protect my stuff; it’s where I live, and I live in a beautiful place I haven’t fully explored. My next step is to reduce my TV consumption.

I want to fill this time with music and reading and writing. I want to go outside and feel the sun on my skin. I want to sit in a place and listen to the birds sing and the wind blow. I want to slow down and appreciate every breath. The world is still suffering and time is short. Over half a million people have died and every country on earth is reopening. Meanwhile, our president tweeted a video where one of his supporters yelled “White power!” and the president’s team is focusing on what nickname to give Joe Biden. We truly live in the worst timeline, but does anyone want it any other way?

I went to the river to think. I parked near an old fire pit with a used diaper in it, a fitting symbol for humanity. I pulled out my camera and snapped some pictures, but then I stopped and listened. I listened to the birds and the river and the wind, and I felt both so ashamed and so overwhelmed by the beauty around me. This was the first time in my eight years living in Montana that I made this drive. That’s eight years of taking where I live for granted. The drive down didn’t take long at all, and I wonder how many more days could have been better lived if I just got into my car and started the engine.

I wish I wasn’t so anxious all the time. I wish it was easier for me to get out of my own way and just live. But it’s not. I have built up these walls around me to make me feel safe and secure from the world, and I’m only now realizing how much better I’d be without them. Even now, as I’m writing this in my home, I feel comfortable behind my walls. They have protected me my whole life, and I’m having a tough time imagining a world without them. But if yesterday taught me anything, it’s that the world is too big to enclose behind walls.

On a whim, I pulled out my microphone and connected it to my phone. I recorded ten minutes of the sounds around me, and when I listened to it later in the day, I experienced this sense of freedom I’ve never felt before. It’s beyond the “anything is possible” platitude I want to say but know isn’t enough to capture my feelings. The walls are still there, and I doubt they’ll ever be gone completely, but I can feel them expanding, even just a bit, and maybe that’s all I need to get started.