How Did I Get Here?
on tracing the origins of wonderful and curious moments
I’m dancing tango in a mountain valley in the Andes. The sun is setting, a strong wind is blowing, and a small crowd is watching. I’m the only non-Argentinian on the floor. How did I get here?
I’m eating lunch at a beachside restaurant with a group from Valencia, Spain. They’ve known each other since childhood, but they are including me in their world. Alternating between Spanish and English, we devour plates of tapas as they arrive. How did I get here?
I’m on the top floor of a hotel in Berlin, inside a floating glass box with 360 degree views. A dance is happening, and I’m the next DJ in line. I load my playlist and get ready to plug in the auxiliary cord. How did I get here?
I’m hiking through a redwood grove in the hills above Silicon Valley, part of a 3-week circumnavigation of the San Francisco Bay Area. It’s a sun-drenched weekday in June, and the trails are empty. Everyone else is at work. How did I get here?
I’m facing a group of 20 young people, giving a presentation about money and freedom. I am not a licensed teacher. I control my curriculum. I am teaching exactly what I’m passionate about, to young people who are mostly enthusiastic to be there. How did I get here?
I’m posing for a photograph with a group of early 20-somethings for an online German start-up competition which we have won. It is August 2020, and I am in Germany despite the fact that US citizens are not legally permitted to fly to Europe. How did I get here?
IN RECENT YEARS, I’ve had many moments where I stop, look around, and ask myself—how did I get here?
For a second, it feels like a mystery. This is not me. Someone else is doing or feeling or experiencing this thing. It is not Blake.
Yet it is. Somehow, I am living these lives. They are one.
Back in 2016, I took a group of teenagers to New Zealand with the mission of discovering how little we need to be happy. Every evening we would do a journaling exercise that I stole from positive psychology. The prompt was simple:
Write down three things that went well in your life today.
Write down why you think these events happened—what were their root causes?
If a teen had an interesting conversation with a friend, for example, the root cause explanations might be:
I’m an interesting person
I’m a good listener and I ask good questions
I’ve surrounded myself with caring people
The second step—the “how did I get here” explanation—was far more impactful than the first. By considering how we contribute to the positive events in our lives, we witnessed how our choices, values, and character traits shape our reality. It was a very effective gratitude exercise.1
Such it was that, when interesting moments occurred in my own life, I began asking: How did I get here? Why is this happening? In what ways did I contribute?
This wasn’t just me feeling good about myself. I also wanted to identify and not forget the positive steps I’d taken toward these moments, so I might take them again.
I’m dancing tango in a mountain valley in the Andes. I’m here because I spent 15 years learning tango, pushing through a lot of discomfort along the way. I’m in the mountains because I adore the mountains and I’ve organized my life to access them frequently. I’m part of this tango performance because I courageously showed up at the local tango group last year, made friends, and got invited to join the show. (video)
I’m eating lunch at a beachside restaurant with a group of friends from Valencia. Because one of these friends is Fred, who I met at Deer Crossing Camp in 2013. We met because I made a practice of befriending instructors from the camp and staying in touch with them. Fred and I went backpacking in California, and I visited him in Spain and France. We’re now close friends, and he invites me to hang out with his family and loved ones, with whom we shared the lunch.
I’m on the top floor of a hotel in Berlin, about to DJ for a fusion dance event. I’m here because I committed lots of time, money, and effort to dancing fusion, and I had already casually DJed smaller events and workshops. A few years ago, a dancer friend put in a good word for me, and I got invited to DJ a single hour at a big event in Switzerland. It went well! Another organizer heard my set and asked, on the spot, if I wanted to DJ at the Berlin event. I said yes!
I’m hiking through a redwood grove in the hills above Silicon Valley, circumnavigating the San Francisco Bay Area. I’m here because I’ve chosen an unconventional life path that prioritizes time wealth over financial wealth, steering clear of commitments that impede my ability to do things like backpacking trips. And because I’ve stayed in shape. And because I’m weird and deluded.
I’m facing a group of 20 young people, giving a presentation of my own design, unrestricted by formal curriculum. I’m here because I decided twenty years ago that teaching in the conventional school system wouldn’t work for me. I’m here because a built a travel company—with help from many friends—that earned the trust and respect of parents. I’m here because I read lots of books and had many conversations on the topics I’m teaching, and despite my lack of formal training, I really do have something useful to say. (like this)
I’m posing for a photograph with a group of early 20-somethings for an online German start-up competition that we have won. I’m here because I found the competition online, joined a team, and helped create an effective pitch. I did this because I wanted a way to return to Germany to reunite with an ex-girlfriend in Europe. During this phase of the pandemic, US citizens were not allowed to fly to Europe unless they had a “compelling reason,” and I thought winning the competition might serve as one. In the end, I figured out how to launder myself into Europe via the United Kingdom, and I ultimately failed to repair the relationship. Everything fell apart. I found myself in Germany because I believed in love, it felt like an adventure, and I was willing to take a risk.
During the adventure, we also discussed the roles that luck and privilege play. This was a 6-week trip to New Zealand, after all! But the teenage participants already seemed quite aware of their privilege, while they frequently downplayed their choices, character traits, and the positive features of the world around them.
This is beautiful! And now I know the theme of my next journal entry.
Maybe you did watch the video I recommended! I sure hope so. ❣️