Chasing the Familiar Unfamiliar

Deja Vu

Mountains are everywhere
In the ridges and peaks and valleys of tree bark
The slanted angle of a fence
The pebbles of a stream

I wrote this poem above, called “Wyoming,” when I was on a retreat with one of my friends (incidentally also a black belt in jiu jitsu). Every morning I would wake up to majestic mountains outside of our AirBNB, which was a sublime sight for someone who had never lived in the west. We took long, meandering walks through the edge in which nature and civilization met — petting horses, playing with dogs, and stopping at a local bar for wings — while also discussing major philosophical ideas relating to addiction, life purpose, depression, and emotions.

This poem represents how I experienced Wyoming, and also how I observe things in the world — not as silos, but as connections and relationships to other beings and things.

It’s something that I’ve always done instinctually when coaching martial arts: telling my pianist friend to think of her jabs as staccatos and her steps as legato tempo, or having people visualize their inhales and exhales as water turning on a water wheel. I’ve found that when people can connect to a familiar idea, story, image, or feeling, they are often times able to synthesize the new experience seamelessly into an old one. In that way, they feel more grounded, even when faced with what appears, at its face, to be great uncertainty.

The next time you confront an unfamiliar situation, ask yourself: where have I seen, heard, or experienced this before? Can those connections help you find a way forward?