Thank you Google Maps.

I am indeed ‘Done’ and yes…

I can see how drained my battery is.

Thank you, dearest reader, for hanging in there with me through all the ups, downs, and wild turns and curves of the year.

After 396 days on the road since October of 2023, I am…home. I am now settled in San Rafael in a real home, and my boat and nomadic phase is finally over and I can fully focus on building this company and publishing my book this year.

A Thing Capable People Forget

Sometimes, we need a friend to help us find our way back to who we are and remind us of our vision. That friend to me was V, who offered me to live with her mom, Pilar, who is my amazing and loving new roommate.

I am now feeling safe in a beautiful home, can comfortably afford to pay for my share, and feel like I can contribute back to her generosity with many sorts of contributions beyond that monetary exchange.

I have been busy settling in the past 2 months: getting my US board certification as a Health and Wellness Practitioner (yay me!), fighting a bunch of really old demons in my head (nay ye!), clobbering with a treacherous flu, revisiting my depression, and finally getting back into shape at the gym.

I am so ready to bid this year farewell!

I am ready to turn off my screens…

and turn my attention to those who are important to me.

As I shimmy this long comical and rough 2024 away, I am also excited to announce a new location that I have been preparing for the upcoming year to see clients.

My new clinic for The Human Dash
is not a brick-and-mortar office…
but it is not a virtual clinic either….

It is a Mongolian yurt.

It is hand-painted by a nomadic tribe that lives far away…

and built with so much care and intention.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the happy new yurt that I have been preparing with so much effort and intention, and it is now ready to host my clients for 1-on-1 sessions.

It is ready for you if you are ready for it, and me, and an added twist of nature that the SF Marina office doesn’t provide.

I will be offering a one day private retreat that will include

• farm-to-table meals

• 1-on-1 health and wellness coaching (farm style)

• Biomarker analysis

• Hikes around goats and chickens

• Sauna and hot plunge add-on!

Reply to this email or comment ‘interested’ if you are in the Bay Area and are looking to come out and spend a day of recovery with me.

Much love, more on this yurt project later, a long update about everything we’ve done on the podcast project soon (and Season 3 episodes coming very soon), and many great health, burnout, and longevity essays coming at you in 2025.

I wish you rest, rejuvenation and reconnection with your loved ones this week.

Omar

The year is 1938.

1940 is the year her father dies of pneumonia.

She isn’t even two. The family had to hustle because the mom could not work at that time. They lived below their means. She never got all the toys, food, and luxury trips her sisters got.

Perhaps what was worse than poverty, was watching her mother go through that long, deep, and sorrowful heartbreak. Her first few years of life, were her mother’s worst.

That was her childhood. She sought the attention and love a baby needs from one parent only. Her father’s death remained to be the worst thing that happened to her. As time passed, the pain receded, but never quite stopped.

The family survived.

The girl grew up and took care of her mom until she died.

The girl married a military engineer and photographer

and they built a stable upper-middle-class family in the late 1950s and early 60s.

The girl was now a mother and had two daughters of her own. It is a happy story, but our girl-now-mother finds herself anxious all the time. Every moment is a threat to one of her family members, every sound is a thief trying to rob her family of their peace.

However, the family lived very peacefully. With this new family, our girl-now-mother lived the lavish lifestyle her sisters had once experienced. She can offer that un-lived life now to her two beautiful daughters. They traveled the world, they educated their own daughters.

Now, in the 1980s, both daughters have their own families.

Our grandmother-then-girl could not be happier. At the same time, her anxiety grows exponentially. There are now two son-in-laws and five grandchildren, and that means more threats of her losing someone.

She exerts all her might on keeping them all safe, until one day she started feeling confused. It suddenly felt like her family could not understand her. Not her husband, not her two daughters, not her two son-in-laws, and not her 5 grandchildren.

The doctors say it is somewhere between Dementia and Alzheimer’s disease. For the first time, her whole family is there for her, but suddenly she is the one who can’t be there for them.

The irony of her life, is that her condition saved her from experiencing her worst fear: the death of her husband.

She outlived him by almost a decade, and barely had any idea of his death. She was in a state of complete hospitalized delirium many months before his funeral.

Perhaps that was blissful for her.

Her younger daughter then took her in. She transformed her living room in a nursing home for her. She took care of her, just like our protagonist did for her mom. She was surrounded by her grandchildren but estranged from them within her own mind.

Our protagonist died in 2017

Her younger daughter can now focus again on the family that she had been building. She is a working professional and so is her son-in-law. They feel safe in providing for their son and daughter, who our grandmother-then-girl could barely recognize in her dying years.

Her younger daughter does not live any of the traumas that our protagonist did. However, she starts noticing anxiety attacks that seem to come for no reason. At work, with the kids, with the maids, or in the middle of the night when she can’t sleep.

It is 2.00 am on a random night.

Our now-passed-away protagonist’s eldest grandson (aka yours truly) wakes up feeling a jolting pain in his chest. He is alarmed. He does not know why but knows that it is his mom and that it is bad.

His mom (our protagonist’s younger daughter), shows up at six in the morning with a stitched left elbow and scratches on her face. She had been in a car accident, at exactly 2.00 am. The son does not make much sense of feeling something someone else experienced that way.

He thinks of it as a coincidence. His scientist medical student brain does not make any further tangible meaning from it.

Our protagonist’s grandson (still me yes) leaves home and explores the world.

Life is great, he lives it on his own terms, and he feels free.

His only experience with losing someone was his grandparents, and that was of course nothing like the trauma his grandmother experienced when she lost her father in 1940.

His romantic and professional relationships, suffer from anxiety. An anxiety of losing someone, even if his brain knows they were not good for him.

Instead he clinches on for too long, letting her ghosts drag him into long loopy drawn out dramas with people in his life. Especially his romantic interests.

Anxiety kicks into his system every now and then.

He finds himself afraid of people, he is afraid to lose them. Afraid they won’t like him. He starts to see every moment with them as a threat to his peace of mind. He learns that it is the same with his mom.

It gets worse for him though. He suffers from depression, goes on Prozac, gets off Prozac, and anything horridly similar to an SSRI. He travels around in search of gumption, and he found it. Not in people but, in the lack of them.

He finds it in the void that he can fill up himself. Yes in the most dreadfully cliche of ways.

He feels lonely, the depression worsens. He is terrified of people. He understands that introvert is a word. It makes him feel much more included in the human race. He then learns that social skills can be learned. So he learns and he learns. He freaks out every now and then, and then he learns some more.

He becomes interested in psychology, and has healing experiences that his grandmother - our dearest passed away protagonist- could not even imagine back in her living days. He still has anxiety but has developed many tools to deal with it. His depression is better but he continues to dig into its reasons. Just to keep the machine greased long enough with some mental cleanup and better habits.

This opens a path for him, that has been closed for eighty years now. He will be the first one in four generations to open the door of the collective consciousness and look into the eyes of that eighty-year-old dragon, lurking in the shadows of a dusty drawer of an old house that existed in 1940.

It is 2024, and it is time that I slay that dragon once and for all, for that grandson is me. And my Great Grandmother’s heartbreak, is mine to face.

I throw in new batteries for the golden shield I have built to fight dragons over the years, and head out on a journey towards the Dragon’s Lair.

It is a bright sunny morning, the spring is plush with the invigorating smell of flowers and the birds are cheerfully chirping.

Displacements.

Destruction.

Fuck, man!

Black smog rising from charred and decomposing human flesh.

Shit, man!

*Blip*

Swipe away the News.

“Hey Siri, play Akua Naru on Spotify.”

🤖 Ok,Omar…Playing Barbie Girl by Aqua…🤖

“NO SIRI…I SAID AKUA NARU!!…”

🤖 Ok, Omar. No need to shout at me this way. Jesus…Here is your fucking Akua Naru…Now playing…Mourning..🤖

I hit the road on October 1st, in 2023 and since week 1 of my journey, Israeli troops have been ravaging the Gaza territory’s intestines.

Today is June 9th, I am still on the road. The hostages remain unsafe and many of them have lost their lives. The Hamas leaders have raised some ~400 Mil from Iran (while working remotely from an infinity pool in Qatar). The Likud party has funneled $12.5 billion from the US (while gaining times of war support from their disgruntled citizens).

Not bad.

Within those eight months, the total goods sold comes up to a measly 1,500 Israelis, and ~36,000 Palestinians.

2 Million Palestinians are internally displaced, many with no brick and mortar ‘Home’ to go back to. Their past no longer exists.

155,000 of them are pregnant. Their future hangs by the sliver of an eroded thread. A thread pulled apart for over seven decades and three generations.

The dead children are the ones who escaped. The ones who survive have to carry all this death into the rest of their lives. There will be some who will heal, and others who will resent.

Many will try to forget. They will repress to survive. Their bodies will remember however, and traumas will write the stories of disease. Real chronic malformation of their various organs.

Both their superior survival genes, AND the ailments that they carry, will propel themselves into the future of humanity.

When all of us are dead; and enough generations have passed; and our great grandchildren don’t recognize our names; and our ways are seen as ancient dumb shit; these future zygotes will be the whales of the new world.

These generations will intermarry, build industries, recreate life and find new ways to fuel their livelihood. The seeds we have planted, like the ones before us, will continue to be what they struggle with. The world’s phenotype will have adapted the epigenetic data of the Palestinians, the Congolese, the Sundanese, the Ukrainians, and the literally countless others displaced, and needlessly tortured souls in today’s world.

The world will reproduce us.

So who do we want to be today?

Press play and enjoy optional background music for the last bit 👇

We can’t escape it. We are not separate from them.

We ache in our bodies when their bodies get destroyed.

We dream it in our nightmares when they live a reality of despair.

We blow our brains on social media, while theirs blow up with shrapnel.

We get angry about it, while they are trying their mightiest to escape it.

We, on the other hand, debate it

intellectually, of course.

We hold on to our arguments

We multiply the hate in our minds.

And then go about our days.

Farewell, humans we have lost.

And hello humans we have wronged.

Because what else can we do?

Deja Vu.

Just another piece of news.

Its just the human blues.

It’s all just these Muslims and these Jews!

Boo-hoo. Big deal. Check these hipster Alladin pants though, they're a steal.

I would just play some Akua Naru..

but even HipHop ain't real enough for me.

For us.

“Hey Siri….

.. switch to something uplifting and healing but interesting and is not Spanish Medicine Music, nor Oriental, nor Techno…or has lyrics that remind me of anything substantial…but can still really take me to a higher dimension of existence…so that I can….feel…even an ever so tiny….relief…from the heaviness of this world…”

🤖 I know exactly what you need, Omar. Playing Nils Frahm….🤖

Perfect. I whistle to the dog, and tap on my thigh. “Come here Mocha!”

I put on my headsets and go for a sunny walk.

Away from my thoughts.

Away from my phone.

Away

from

humanity.

Alone.

That was my last moment as an enlisted full-time soldier with a salary, benefits, and the delicious pride of corporate social validation.

I was the shit, man. Senior-Clinical-Data-Consultant-with-medical-background-extrordinaire. Top of my game. 401 k. Bitcoin and Ether. Startup Angel Investor.

It all started with a text.

Ping!

“You don’t have to log in tomorrow, let’s have a virtual meeting instead.”

The next day, my lay off was surgically delivered via Google Meet.

I was in my beautiful apartment in the mission and the sun beamed on our backyard of tulips and neat bushes. I sat down in front of my laptop on the large wooden dining table I hosted countless dinners and parties around. Same place I was sitting in when one of the company partners gave me a call, and showered me with praise for a period where I was experiencing my biggest success.

Three weeks later, I am joining a very different call. I could feel the chill of the virtual room I was logging into.

‘3 others are in the meeting room.’

Gulp.

I could hear the growl of a ferocious creature in that virtual room. It was lurking behind that green button. I could smell the dirt between its toenails.

Join Meeting.

Bleep.

The dark cave lights up with three neon icons. The colorful initials belong to my boss, the Healthcare Practice Lead, the Engagement Manager, and lastly, the head of HR.

All rise!

The engagement prosecutor’s presents the case.

His Honor, the Practice Lead, remained silent.

I did not plead guilty. I presented my case. I defended. I talked about my logic. I attempted to express my emotions in a balanced way. I talked of my commitment to the bullshit that we all engage in.

I was interrupted by his honor.

“A decision has already been made to terminate you, Omar. We do not need to hear this. You will no longer be with us. Best of luck. HR will take it from here.”

Bleep. Bloop.

Two neon icons disappear, and with it five years of my history at the company.

I can now see the shining edges of the growling monster with jagged teeth and salivating wide jaws. The same hands that fed me gourmet salaries, Marriott hotel rooms, fancy dinners, and personal airport pickups.

No more.

I was the meat now. I am the chopped liver, that everyone else needs to live.

I am the butt of the food chain. The jagged teeth descend on my neck like a judge’s hammer.

And so it was.

The HR person read me all my rights. Execution. Her words flowed in stacatto low pitched slow motion. I only heard a few words as my thoughts swirled into a heap of blinding dust. Heavy breeze. Deep heart beats. Racing. Tightness in the belly.

I heard ‘six week severance’. I heard something about my insurance…’Cobra’...COBRA? This is the actual name of the type of insurance one gets to maintain benefits post lay off. COBRA!

I knew there was a fucking monster. It doesn’t matter what I know anymore.I am free to go now. Fuck them and fuck their cobra bullshit insurance. It all felt personal.

But then it lead to the actual personal questions like..

Who am I going to be now?

That was exactly 5 years ago, Today. I continue to ask this question and I have to say, life is pretty challenging outside of America’s jacuzzi of corporate disposable salaries.

Many people like to romanticize leaving corporate jobs and being entrepreneurs, but man this shit is hard! When Uncle Sam’s teat stops giving you the monthly comfort of a paycheck, one needs to get really creative and learn a whole lot about oneself.

It is not easy, and I have no hacks or wisdom. All I can tell you is that since then…

• I travelled the world, got married, and started writing seriously. With that came The Gumpcast, and I got covid twice in two different continents. #herdingtheimmunity

• I spent all my savings on travel, built it all back up with a clinical data consulting business, and then spent it all again on rent when I returned to SF.

  The economy got tight. All my solo consulting contracts dried up.

• I went through a divorce. Failed at business partnerships. Lost friends

• I went back like a drooling dog to the job applications. Rejection. Rejection. Rejection. Suffered back pain, flirted with pre-diabetes and worked hard on making peace between me, myself and I.

• I got certified in Functional Medicine, learned the psychotherapy model Internal Family Systems and started building a holistic health coaching practice.

• And writing. Writing. Writing. It’ remains to be the juice that keeps me going. That is why this blog is so precious to me. I live to write. Write to live. It works for me.

• Push ups. Planks. Short Walks. Long Hikes. HIIT Exercise. Fasting. Paleo. Keto. Elimination. No diet. No sugar. No meat. No carbs. No food. Water-Only. Biomarkers. Labs. Travel-friendly kettlebell weights. Yoga.

  Qi Gong.

• I learned to define and measure health in a way that made sense to me.

As the business started to grow, I kept measuring my runway, and freaking the fuck out about how hard it is to build a business in San Francisco while living comfortably.

The financial woes ebbed and flowed, and by the middle of 2023, I had arrived at my greatest fear. I could no longer pay rent without going into debt. I was crumbling under that pressure now, and my runway got narrower, and then…

Poof!

My runway disappeared.

The cushion was no longer there, and my body laid bare on the my cold hardwood floors.

And then I saw myself

I was a hamster locking himself in my apartment, trying to figure out how to pay for his glorious cage.

I am a martyr of my own war. I had to ask myself some harder questions.

However, the financial stress in me was solving for rent, not for my overall health. I was smoking, isolating myself, not enjoying concerts and nice dinners, and working on my rent problem all the time. The hustle was real.

And the more it bore its jagged teeth, the more my health bled.

I did not feel well. So I decided to stop.

To Stop paying rent. To stop pretending to love my life. To stop killing myself trying to be normal. To stop resisting what wants to happen right now.

To be honest, it wasn’t really that slick, or an edgy philosophy, or some righteous path towards liberation.

No, it was just because I was becoming broke and anxious. This is not a philosophical tirade against paying rent. I just couldn’t keep up man. It was my reality.

It still was a decision, however. A truly empowering one. (Another decision could have been applying for more full time jobs, or maxing out my credit cards to maintain a lifestyle that no longer served or belonged to me.)

Great, so now where do I go?

When this all dawned upon me, I was sitting in my Diamond Heights apartment, and hosting my friends’ dog. When they came to pick their dog up, I met a friend of theirs that had been using the app: Trusted Housesitters.

Rich people travel, and there are these amazing homes looking for someone to stay in for free and look after their dogs. The downside is moving a lot, the upside is crossing off rent from my list of worries. Sold!

He gave me the answer to my question. One can only recognize the right answer if one has the right question.

And so it was. I sublet my apartment to someone who can afford it. Someone who my old lifestyle belongs to.

I kept only whatever I can carry in my car.

And so it is.

And here I am.

Eight months later, I am still alive. I have survived the great fear and shame gremlin of rent and financial burdens.

I have lived in 12 different places for periods of weeks to a month. Instead of paying rent, I look after dogs and stay in their gorgeous homes.

I work on my writing and my coaching practice. The money I make goes towards me.

I feel healthier than I ever have. Things are improving as I go. On the one hand, I have gotten used to it, on the other hand I am simply no longer chasing abstract ideas.

I sat nine different dogs, went to two 10-day long meditation retreats, travelled to Big Island, visited back home and experienced the gracious hosting of Morgan, Nick Adkins, and Omar Dajani who all opened their homes to me for extended periods to fill in the gaps.

I do not recommend this lifestyle for anyone, but I can say with certainty that it is the best decision that I have done for myself this past year.

The engine runs on cold, lubricated fluid now.

I am no longer the hare in the race. I am the tortoise.

I do not need to run as fast as I can, for as long as I could, all the time.

I can now slow things down for a brief moment and live well off what I saw before as my ‘disposable income’. Nothing disposable of it now.Every dollar that I make for my services, I can invest into a clinic, healthy food, and lifestyle where I can be active.

I know this phase can’t last forever, but also I will take the time I need to do it right.

Suddenly my income is more than enough.

I can afford Trader Joes and Whole Foods again. I can go out to see music again. I can pay off all of my credit card debt again.

I could now also afford my new Gumption Health clinic on 1850 Union Street in San Francisco. If you are local, come visit me for tea, learn about the gumption health program, and chat about collaboration. Book some time, and come over.

And so now I am enough.

I am enough.

Enough.

I hope you believe that you are enough too. Because you really are.

Please remember.

Happy Memorial Day.

If you dig the content…

Please Support the Gumption

Musing #41: Creativity is your only way out.

You have built a career or a business. You have improved your health, built habits, learned new technologies, invested your money, and got more time in nature.

But something is still missing. 

It is a deep, sinking feeling that your humanity is lacking something.

This, my friend, is a tsunami of creativity waiting to be unleashed within you.  

It wants to express its many waves into the world, through you.

But you have no avenue for it. 

Somewhere along the way, you have lost the basic function of critical thinking and creating something based on how you perceive the world.

Life has many priorities, and creativity is not one of them.

First you gotta make money. Right? 

Then you have to maintain relationships, and if you are lucky, you might go for occasional walks or hit the gym. 

But that feeling continues to nag deep down inside of you. 

And I promise you, it will never go away. 

It is a dragon. It breathes fire. You have stuffed its mouth with your excuses. The fire burns inwardly and it hurts.

You can buy a guitar and never play it. 

You have an idea for a blog, but you never write it.

You want to take acting classes but never find time for it. 

Well, get ready, because the time has come. 

Destroy your excuses and slay the fucking dragon

I am about to destroy your excuses.

I’ve had to destroy mine with Steven Pressfield’s War of Art and Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way. Read them. Now.

I’ve had to learn about how to approach creativity from the greats: Rick Rubin, Murukami and Stephen King.

Writing has become my best friend. It is my most consistent habit. Over the past four years, it has seen me lose a job, lose a partner, and lose very close friends. 

But my writing continues. 

My relationship with writing grows no matter what happens. 

I love writing, and it certainly loves me back.

It is what wants to happen through me. 

When did we stop doing the things we long for?

Over time, our society has gone from valuing creativity above all to valuing financial wealth and consumerism. 

This is how most of us express ourselves now; The color of our car, the background image of our phone, the brand of whiskey we drink, the profile picture we have, and the sticker we put on our water bottle.

We desperately try to paint the little pieces that we own.

Consumption has replaced our need to be creative. 

Instead, it has amplified our need to make money. 

With that, it has amplified our demons. 

It has exaggerated our vanities. 

There is only one way out: Consume less, and create more. 

That is your ticket to fulfillment. You are a creator. You are a creative. The longer you take to come to terms with that, the longer your demons will haunt you. 

You do not have to do it professionally, but you have to do it seriously. 

And if you do, you will become more content than 90% of those out there, lost in the story of consumption. 

Prepare for lift off…

You are constantly creating anyway. It is just a matter of noticing what you create in this world.

Life hands us trauma at every stage, there is no running away from that. 

What we do with this trauma, though, defines who we are. 

When I got laid off, I went on a voyage and attended a men’s circle that led me to write my first novel.

When I decided to get a divorce, I poured my heart out in a series of poems that became my first book/poetry collection.

Why do you think there are so many songs about love and heartbreak? 

It is not because heartbreak sells perse. 

We pay good money to see those who are free to create, and express on our behalf.

It is safer for us that way.

Creators say what we don’t have the courage to say, and feel what we dare not feel. 

What happens when we do not create?

We eat copious amounts of food.

We consume drugs.

We drink alcohol.

We project our anguish onto others.

We blame those around us.

We hate others.

We build resentment.

It does that through transmutation. 

The trauma is transmuted into a creative output. That output, if it is any good, allows others to process their own trauma.

When a creative project is complete, new cells can grow, and you can be ready for the next creation (and for being hurt again).  

When we do not create, we become blocked from that evolution. 

We can’t climb the next hill, or meet the next person, or build our new self when we are stuck holding on to the past. 

Creativity is your pain unleashed. 

Creativity is your inner child unburdened.

Creativity is your optimal state.

Creativity is why you are here. 

Yes, YOU! 

Stop saying that you ‘are not creative’. Bullshit!

You are a creator. 

You either create frustration, or you create art. 

You can create hate, or you can create beauty.

You can create more pain, or you can make the world a little more pleasant. 

When you create, you unbox your trauma and your inner demons, and release them back into the world. 

You transform your inner pain, jealousy, lust, anguish, rejection, suffering into the soil. 

From that soil, a flower will bud. That flower will help them see truth and beauty in the world. It will help them deal with their own suffering. 

They see their pain in yours.

And you will be lighter, you will be happier, and you will be healthier. 

Once you express yourself, your creativity will exude into all aspects of life. 

You will bring it into your work meetings, you will bring it into your nature walks, and you will bring it into your conversations with friends.

It will change your perspective.

It will improve your relationships.

It will attract those who you yearn to be around.

It will help you feel seen and heard regardless of who listens. 

The nagging emptiness will become a well of ideas. 

My grandfather always said: Your friends will be gone, your job will be gone, your partner will be gone, and all you will have left is your hobby. 

He was right. 

You need to create now. 

Go make something out of nothing. 

Doodle, write a letter, wrap a gift or drum on the table.

Creativity is your ticket to fulfillment.

Do it.

Now.

Bye,

Omar

✌️

PS: Stay tuned for ten proven methods to boost your creativity on Wednesday.

If you are not subscribed, get this in your inbox

Subscribe now

If you are already subscribed, then why not…

Share

Today, I no longer practice medicine, 75% of the books I read every year are novels and I have dedicated a large part of my life to writing one myself!

Some of you may think this is ironic that I write this very non fiction essay while I am touting how fiction is superior. Well shit. You caught me. This whole blog is a trojan horse to captivate your hearts and minds and to launch you into my fictional world of characters and stories!

I hope I convince you by the end to stop reading articles like this one and read more novels.

Here is why fiction is important.

1- It is the only real source of truth.

2- Just like traveling, but way cheaper and change is guaranteed.

3- It is a chance to connect with the magical and the divine.

1- Fiction gets you closer to the truth

We live in a world that is growing more and more apart. Nationalist rhetoric is up against the forces of globalization. Covid really uncovered that. Vaxers vs ANti-Vaxers, Maskers vs Anti-Maskers and Stay at home-rs vs Go out-ers.You know the drill.

We are polarized, and we are locked in environments that only resonate with our biases. We are experiencing a sliver of the human collective that confirms our ideas on our feeds, and in our social dinners. 

This is all great until you collide with someone at work, or even worse, in your family, who dares think differently than you.  Our first instinct is to call them idiots (many of them are ofcourse), but then when these idiots leave your space with their foolish ideas (because yours are well-researched and preciously curated), you find yourself left with a bitter taste.

A small voice in your head keeps you engaged with their shitty point of view. I cant’ believe that this is what they think! You tell your closest friend (who holds your exact same point of view). You are relieved to see them nod their heads.

Your friend confirms that this coworker or family members is indeed an idiot. She tells you that life is too short to deal with this stupid person and hear their stupid ideas. 

This is when you start avoiding the coworker, you avoid the family member like the plague. This is where professional relationships breakdown, creativity gets blocked, and families break down. 

“Morality binds and blinds. It binds us into ideological teams that fight each other as though the fate of the world depended on our side winning each battle. It blinds us to the fact that each team is composed of good people who have something important to say.”
― Jonathan Haidt, The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion

I have been there with ex-partners in life, business, and even in partying. It seems like it gets to a point where our differences simply collide and press our buttons so hard that we can't sustain the relationship any longer. It does not have to be this way, if we start understanding why we feel like we need to protect ourselves from ideas that are foreign to us. 

One way to do this naturally is by reading fiction. The great thing about a novel, is that it encompasses conflict by default. You are guaranteed at the very least two conflicting points of view. 

Novels do that exponentially better than movies, for the simple fact that you can dig much deeper into why a character - even the villian- is doing what they are doing. You can be in many people’s mind, or at the very least, the hero’s mind which will never be identical to yours.

Reading fiction has been proven to increase your capacity for compassion and empathy, where that does not exist in non-fiction books or essays that express one person's point over all others. 

In that way, Non fiction books are as limited as religious books are: They provide guidance, but do not encompass the full human experience and imperfections. Don’t get me wrong I read a lot of non-fiction too! But it falls short when it comes to helping us understand the breadth, and the chaos of the human experience. So the next time you are in conflict, go read a good novel and allow yourself to be reminded that conflict is an essential part of the human experience. 

If you are an activist, read about great characters that are based on your enemies, it will help you understand them more, and give you a leg up. 

But more importantly, you may be able to become more productive at work, save your marriage or maintain family ties just by bringing in more enjoyable fiction into your life. 

“Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth.”
― Albert Camus

2- Just like traveling, but way cheaper with transformation guaranteed.

Traveling is great, but it is expensive and time consuming. Reading fiction gives you the same or even better outcomes at a negligible cost. I would even go as far as to say, that it is better.

Think about it.

You can pay thousands of dollars to travel, and come back happy but unchanged. Whereas a good novel, allows you experience a new country from the eyes of a local, or a person who has a lot of skin in the game. 

It is easy to get locked into being a tourist, but in a novel, you can't do so. You are heavily invested, and so are your characters. You will continue to understand the place through the events that happen to them, and you will come out with far more knowledge about the place than you could have ever thought.

Change is inevitable, for both you and the hero. At least if its a good novel worth reading. If it isn’t changing you then it was not worth reading.

“Good fiction’s job is to comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.”
― David Foster Wallace

3- You get to participate in magic

There are many genres in fiction, some can bring in more magic than others. However, I believe that any novel takes you out of the ordinary realm and into the extraordinary lives of characters and minds of authors. 

You get to experience a world where conflicts get resolved, dreams get fulfilled, and sometimes miracles can even happen.  Fiction helps us connect with our own hero journeys, it helps us relate to obstacles and hardships in a new way, and it helps us remember that life is not predictable nor is it a simple straight line. I feel like reading novels reminds us of the magic that lives within us.

In a world where we can get locked in right or wrong, and boxes of how things are supposed to be, we are reminded of the sheer genius that exists within us, and we get inspired by how the characters tap into their inner resourcefulness to overcome life's obstacles and challenges.

“Writing is magic, as much the water of life as any other creative art. The water is free. So drink. Drink and be filled up.”

―Stephen King

Stay tuned for next Wednesday where I will share my favorite 5 novels that I have found worth reading in the past couple of years.

Omar Shaker

Subscribe now

Here are some reflections on my writing journey so far that you can apply to anything you are trying to learn.

1- Heart first, then brain.

2- Balance both right and left brains.

3- Learn just enough to climb and descend Mt. Stupid.

4- Tell the fucking world about it.

5- Practice, practice, practice.

🙏 Sunday Gratitude

This one goes out to Tarek Omran who suggested this topic, AND helped me edit and proofread it. Thank you! Thanks for everything you do to inspire people all over the world. It is a pleasure to know you and work with you.

Ok so here are the 5 musings I’ve had while learning how to become better at anything new.

1- Choose something that your heart wants to learn, then use your brain to learn it.

I am writing this post while on a retreat. Why? Because this nourishes me. It fills my heart with joy, and that's where you want to be with anything you set your mind to get better at.

First, heart: You are unstoppable when you come at something with your heart.

The reason why I’ve been consistent with this blog every Sunday is that it comes from a very real place within me that I continue to access and lean into. Your heart is a waterfall of gumption. It's psychic gasoline for your soul to erupt into the volcano that it is meant to be.

The novel that I'm writing really came out of a huge heart experience: A man who shared his story with me in such a way it released my own pain. That moment is what put me on this daunting road of wanting to write a novel. It made me want to share it with the world, because I know it'll touch the hearts of those who read it.

But the heart only holds the passion, which is useless without a practical methodical way of manifesting your heart’s desire. When I started writing, I realized that beyond knowing that I want to write a novel, I knew nothing!

It would have been a heartbreaking moment, if it wasn’t for a little method and structure. Guess who's really good at that?

Enter brain. Break down the heart vision, and get methodical.

The conversation between me and my brain went a little like this:

Me: “Shit, the heart wants us to write a novel, and we know nothing about that.”

Brain: “ Oh I get that. Writing is very satisfying for us. It would be cool if we can even get paid to do that one day. Let’s figure this out. No problem. We got this, but it will take sometime. Let me do some research and contemplation.

…Ok got it. Here are your steps to starting your writing career.

First, we need to make time and space to write. How will we fit writing into our schedule? What habits can we stack this on?

Second, we need to learn about writing. How do we do that? How do we know that our writing is getting better? Where do we start?

Third, we need to understand the publishing industry. Who do we know that has published a book before? How does the industry work? What podcasts can we listen to about this?

Fourth, we will break down the novel into 4 parts, and we will only focus on the first part for now, since otherwise we may get demotivated.”

Not sure why my brain sounds like Chat GPT. But my point is this…

The way I use my brain to stay motivated and continue growing in my writing, is to continuously break down my heart’s desire into logical steps. Where the heart demands action, the brain is capable of actually doing the actions.

"Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul.

If either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas.

For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction.

Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion, that it may sing;"

Kahlil Gibran, On Reason and Passion, The Prophet

That you may sing, my dear.

2- Use both your Right and Left Brains

Once I was in brain mode, I realized that the writer within me has two sub-modes with my brain. Right brain activities are creative but self indulgent, and left brain activities are methodical but monotonous. Figure out how to use both to find rocket fuel for whatever it is that you are trying to learn.

The right brain works well right after I wake up. ☀️🎻

I drink a cup of coffee and sit down with the muse, and she whispers sweet nothings into my ear while an imaginary violin dangles in the background to an angelic chorus that descends on my desk from the heavens.

I used this right brain mode to get to know my characters, to feel their emotions and to freely explore the world I am building. They always surprise me, and i love this mode, because I never know what will come up!

My left brain, however, works at night. 🌜🧐

It is a dirty mechanic that has greasy hands and is skeptical of everything and everyone. It does not believe in God or Angels, it only believes in the reader, logic, structure, and ultimately - beats me up on my grammar and spelling. He's an asshole, but he's my asshole, and he'll make sure the novel gets the care it deserves.

What do your right brain and left brain represent in your line of work or creative endeavor?

Some questions to consider:

If you are more left brained or methodical in your approach (jobs such as doctor, analyst, scientist, investor, accountant, manger, etc.):

• Do you have open time on your calendar to think about issues creatively?

• Do you have a morning routine that is not bombarded by ideas?

• Do you have time to mull over ideas while taking a walk or in a new environment?

If you are more right-brained (freelance designers, Creatives, writers, producers, shamans, etc.) then you might want to:

• Can you learn about story structures or learn how to read music?

• Can you learn more about business and how it works, do market research look at numbers?

• Can you take a finance course and learn about balance sheets and estimate what you need?

Below is quote from the legendary Quincy Jones about how using his left brain took him to the next level. (However for most of us working logical jobs, your right creative brain may be the one that needs more airtime.)

“Once I learned how to properly notate music, or sync music to picture when I began film scoring or produce compelling live shows using scientific methods, I was able to take my artistry to the next level. Learning how to sharpen my left brain has been largely influential in how I’ve approached every creative endeavor.”

12 notes on life and creativity, Quincy Jones

Once you learn to balance both of them, mad inspiration will meet the sanity of structure and you will become a “creative genius” at what you do.

3- Immerse yourself in knowledge with the goal of getting over Mt Stupid.

Ok here is a big secret that helps me with almost anything: I only learn as much as I need to learn to get to the next milestone.

When I first started writing, I didn't know what I didn't know. I liked some of my journal entries and saw the potential behind them, but I didn't know why I liked them or what made them good.

Let me stop here and explain the Nobel winning theory: The Dunning Kruger Effect.

The Dunning-Kruger effect effect occurs when a person’s lack of knowledge and skills in a certain area cause them to overestimate their own competence. By contrast, this effect also causes those who excel in a given area to think the task is simple for everyone, and underestimate their relative abilities as well.

Three years ago I was at the know nothing phase.

I knew nothing about writing fiction.

I decided to learn about writing which was very intimidating for me. I always enjoyed it but never had any kind of formal training for it. As a matter of fact, English as a class in high school was not my forte. I hated most of the novels and poems that we studied and did not feel engaged with literature.

I started learning by watching Masterclass. I cancelled my Netflix subscription and delved into all the content on Masterclass instead.

It was an easy way to start climbing the Mountain of Stupid.

Pretty quickly, I got to the peak of the mountain of stupidity.

So after watching all these masterclasses, taking notes and learning about dramatic writing, dialogue, character development and world building I felt completely accomplished and posted my Gumption flag on top of mount stupid.

Then comes the valley of despair.

This happened to me as I started trying to weave more of my knowledge into the novel and realized how ill equipped I actually was. All these heroes of mine clouded my thoughts with theirs, and I struggled for a time to find my voice.

As I wrote more I started to find myself picking the tools that made more sense to me. But more importantly, as I read more I started to realize how each author broke the rules in their unique way. I stopped reading about writing and dove deeper into more fiction novels. I read Dostoyevsky, Murukami, and balanced that with contemporary writers (I'll share my list in another post soon).

That freed me to write outside of the rules but it also slammed me straight into the valley of despair: Will I ever be like them? Can I ever get that good?

I had done enough on my own, I needed people's validation to get me into the slope of enlightenment.

So I started this blog.

4- Tell the fucking world!

Sometimes we need tell the world things in order for them to happen. In the same way that we ceremoniously announce events such as weddings, births, inaugurations, deaths and so on, telling the world about what we are trying to get better at, makes it all more real .

I started this blog in 2021 to announce to the world (50 of my friends and family members) that I am writing a novel. It is March 2023 as I write this and my novel is not done yet but you are here reading this and that is psychic gasoline for me to go on and deliver on this promise.

So first we promise ourselves, but then we promise other people to make sure we do not get distracted. This is part of the process. We sometimes want to keep our steps hidden away until we are perfect, because that is what we are told we need to be.

We do not know where our wildest thoughts come from.

All we do know is that these ideas become actions and these actions become our destiny.

When you feel connected to your destiny, you shift gears into Gumption.

So if you want to become better at something, show people how it looks like while it is coming together. Don't share the creation, but share your process - aka your thoughts.

This will:

a) Remind you of your humanity and shatter your illusion of perfection

b) Help your audience connect with you more.

c) Help you find the validation you need early on in a project before your inner perfectionist kills it.

I did this with the blog, and those of you that are here from the start have seen some of my early Frankensteins of experimentation. (No shame!)

Those shitty articles are the reason why I know that this is a good one. The poor audio quality of our first Gumpcast episode, made me recognize how far we've come. The cringy pilot chapters I posted of the novel, make me realize how strong my writing skills have developed.

“We all love things that other people think are garbage. You have to have the courage to keep loving your garbage, because what makes us unique is the diversity and breadth of our influences, the unique ways in which we mix up the parts of culture others have deemed “high” and the “low.”

When you find things you genuinely enjoy, don’t let anyone else make you feel bad about it. Don’t feel guilty about the pleasure you take in the things you enjoy. Celebrate them.”

Austin Kleon, Show Your Work!: 10 Ways to Share Your Creativity and Get Discovered

5- Practice, Practice, Practice!

Everything is a practice.

Everything you do takes you a step further on your path.

One step right or one step left may not steer you off the trail, but a thousand will.

This metaphor works for habits as well, they are automatic just like walking, and the more you practice anything the more it grows exponentially.

So you are always practicing. Smoking is a practice, eating fast food is a practice but also meditation, prayer and exercise can be your practice.

The basic idea here is that if you want to get better at something, you basically have to do it everyday. Yes! Everyday! No questions asked.

You are doing things automatically everyday anyways, but what does your current practice look like? Are your practices taking you towards the vision your higher self has? Or is it steering you to a place of illness and hate?

Reading articles like this one is a practice, but to start taking action on what you've learned, is a different practice.

Start small and practice everyday!

Take yourself seriously and you will find a well of Gumption that will keep you growing and learning.

I hope these thoughts carry you into whatever it is that you are learning.

See you next Sunday,

Omar

Writing a novel is not easy, but neither is excelling at work, nor having deep meaningful relationships. Today I will share three dilemmas that I have to face, every time life has swirled me around like a crab in a crashing wave.

I just turned 35 a couple of months ago, and I am going through my third major life shift of the past ten years. A major life shift for me, is when my work, relationship and housing situation change significantly, all at the same time.

That to me is the trifecta that comes at me with its sword of transformation.

“And once the storm is over you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”

Haruki Murakami, Kafka on The Shore

The first time I went through this, I was 25. I left medicine, moved to San Francisco from Cairo, and had a significant breakup. It was quite destabilizing because I had nothing to take with me beyond those three things.

The second one happened when I was 32. I left my beloved house in the Mission district of San Francisco, my full time consulting job, and ultimately got married back in Egypt. This is when I started working on the novel, and had the space to create for the first time.

Now at 35, I am still settling down back in the Bay Area after 3 years away and going through a divorce. The novel is now 3 years old too, and is the most grounding force I have in my life. That and the routine around it.

Today I share with you the three dilemmas I faced every time I had to get on my feet again, in both the novel and in life.

Dilemma #1: When, what and who to remember and when, what and who to forget

Dilemma #2: When to build routines and when to break them

Dilemma #3: When is something ready to be shared, and when should it be protected?

1- Remembering and Forgetting:

Sometimes I need to remember certain things to keep going: My purpose, the first spark of inspiration I had for the novel, the thrill I get from recording a podcast episode, the childlike joy that pops out of me when I write a good scene. The fact that I am a writer, and that I am becoming a better one, and that no one can take that away from me.

Remembering these things helps me write everyday.

Other times I need to forget. To forget about my past failures, to forget that some people won't like my work, to forget my conditioning to value scientific method over art, my expectations and expected outcomes, and last but not least, to forget my scarcity perception of time.

The same goes for knowledge and ignorance: I need to learn a lot about history to build a character for instance, but at some point I need to let my ignorance lead the way because that’s where innovation happens. Otherwise, I'd just be regurgitating a history book, not writing a novel.

Things I do, to remember:
- Sticky notes with validating statements from people who read my work
- Physical objects such as a typewriter and a writing space that give me a visual cues that I'm indeed a writer.
- Printed books about writing that I can see at my desk, to remind me of both my heroes and their wisdom.
- Writing as a daily habit that I do regardless of where I am or what I'm doing.

Things I do to forget:
- Experiencing novelty through people, places and ideas.
- Extended hours away from social media
- Being aware of ideas that are mine versus ideas that are implanted by others (tricky for empaths).
- Long walks in nature.
- Playing with kids or dogs.

2- Building routines and breaking them

I always knew that routines were good for me. However a large part of me defied them for a very long time.

Before I started working on the novel in 2019, I had no healthy routine. I lived the larger than life intergalactic dream of prosperity. I had no time for routines, I was the anti-routine, anti-conformity, and the anti-hero of my own story.

It was writing that gave me a need to create a structure around my life. I needed to carve out space, and that required discipline, and a change in lifestyle. I needed protected time to write, to learn about writing, and to share what I wrote.

I started by Sundays
I blocked off my Sundays from any time vultures: work, family events, brunches, friends, Netflix, you name it. The plan was simple: I want to create, and Sunday is when I will do that. I started off by writing and playing the piano. Writing quickly dominated all the Sunday sessions, and the piano faded into the background.

Sundays produced more and more chapters, I was hooked on writing more, and started giving myself a few hours on Wednesday as well. The pilot for the novel was done in a few months. That is when I read The War of Art.

“This is the other secret that real artists know and wannabe writers don’t. When we sit down each day and do our work, power concentrates around us. The Muse takes note of our dedication. She approves. We have earned favor in her sight. When we sit down and work, we become like a magnetized rod that attracts iron filings. Ideas come. Insights accrete.”
― Steven Pressfield, The War of Art: Winning the Inner Creative Battle

This liberated me. I realized that it is not about the number of hours I practice writing, as much as it was about adopting a writer’s identity. That was when I started dedicating 30 mins of my morning to writing.

I went from Full Time to Part Time Freelancer, and that allowed me to build up a habitual sequence that made me healthier, gave me happier mornings, and led the final tsunami that got me done with a 130,000 word draft! The novel flooded through me like an avalanche. All I needed to do was show up and drink some coffee.

The routine was thrilling, but after I was done with Draft 1, I realized that I had written the novel at different skill levels, with different depths of my characters, and that I needed a different kind of skillset to actually bring it to life.

I struggled with this for a while, because routine, my savior, and answer to all creative dilemmas thus far, had gone dry and could not give me the kind of output I needed.

So I broke the habits, and with that came magic. I went back to learn about story structure rather than practice freely writing as I did the year before. I also switched my writing time to evenings after work versus mornings, bringing my editorial brain more online than my dreamy poetic side.

That took some time to adjust, but it did the trick. After many grueling nights in 2022, I finally had an outline for the second draft. Only then, was I ready to go back to my morning writing routine, which I already know works great for exploratory writing versus rational plotting and character research.

Things I do in my morning routine:

• Journal

• Movement

• Write

• Drink Water

• Read nourishing literature

• Coffee

• Cold shower

• Fast

When I break the routine I would:

• Drink coffee in a new place

• Go for a walk outside instead of exercise

• Spend time tidying my apartment.

• Call a friend or family member

• Jump into a call (when I absolutely must)

#3 Sharing versus Keeping to Yourself

The impetus behind starting this substack was to share my pilot chapters of Maskat and Jay's adventures. This step of putting it out there, emboldened me to talk every step afterwards. It was like a rolling slinky down a
staircase, and watching it hop down the steps, in a shape and form that it naturally demands.

When we share things, they gain a life of their own, they stop being within our realm of control, and for an artist, that is usually a good thing. The only caveat here, is that if we share before the work is ready to see the light, then the slinky may not have enough spring to take off.

“Write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open. Your stuff starts out being just for you, in other words, but then it goes out. Once you know what the story is and get it right — as right as you can, anyway — it belongs to anyone who wants to read it. Or criticize it.”

―Stephen King

Since the pilot chapters I released in Feb of 2021, I have been keeping the novel drafts to myself. That is exactly two years of work and drafting without getting the joy of showing it to someone. For someone who has tasted encouraging feedback, this is a tremendous act of discipline for me.

I feel like this has allowed me to build an important relationship between the novel and I. She knows that I will not expose her before she is ready, and that I will be careful with who I expose her to.

So while sharing has been an energizing force behind this project, I continue to learn over time to discern between what is ready for me to post here and what is not.

Projects that are ready for you to read are:

• This article and other newsletters.

• Gumpcast episodes I have published

• An Ode to Heartbreak

Projects that are still in motion and need closed doors are:

• The novel

• The Lamu Diaries Docuseries and short stories

• The two Season 2 episodes coming out next month.

• Poems I wrote last week

🙏 Sunday Gratitude 🙏

Many thanks to Naveen Rao, who gifted me Kafka on the Shore which has expanded my literature horizons by eons. Highly recommended read.

🫀 Stayin’ Alive…Stayin’ Alive 🫀

Uh-uh-uh-uh…

Health

I have had many people come visit me which forced me to sway away from a rigid health structure, and open up to the fluid growth that comes with being around people.

I quit habits like intermittent fasting, low carbs and early sleep , and kept others such as Qi gong, reading and writing.

Craft

We released Episode 13 of the Gumpcast a few weeks ago about sexual harassment and the wounded masculine and feminine. A key theme in my novel.

In Search of Gumption

EP13. Gender - How Do We Balance the Masculine and Feminine?

Listen now (48 min) | Why does talking about gender feel complicated these days? Is there an imbalance between our Masculine and Feminine? This is what we tackle on the 13th episode of the Gumpcast. Sumaya Holdijk, massage therapist, birthing doula and self-described space holder shares her stories about sexual harassment in Egypt, and the practices she has learned over the y…

Listen now

3 years ago · 1 like · 1 comment · Omar Shaker

Next up we have two back to back episodes on erectile dysfunction and identity struggles.

Artist’s Way

I keep missing the Artist dates, but have been having a lot of one-on-one dinners with friends that still inspire the inner artist in various ways. I do miss a little bit of solo adventures, which I enjoyed a lot of last year. Still doing quick morning pages, but on and off.

Stay tuned for Episode 14 of the Gumpcast where two dear friends do some vulnerable storytelling about erectile dysfunction and the penis.

Not exactly dinner time content, but will maybe more fitting before you go to bed ;)

See you next Sunday,

Omar

Leave a comment

Share

I can promise you wisdom, entertainment, or knowledge. I can try all sorts of tricks such as cliff hangers to keep you scrolling down. I can tease you and appease you, but ultimately….

You will only continue reading if you are yearning for something, deep inside you, that you believe can be found here.

So what is it in this email that wants to be discovered by you?

🌟 Featured Content from January🌟

An Ode to Heartbreak is live every week. Only some of you seem to love poetry, and so it’s good to come back to writing this newsletter!

Here is the most popular post so far from An Ode to Heartbreak which I released here on Jan 1st. (Check out the reflections and meditation in the audio).

In Search of Gumption

04. Your Own Personal Jesus

On depression and saving yourself. 🎵 Click play for audio version with music and a meditation. 👇 Scroll down while you listen. Your Own Personal Jesus…

Read more

4 years ago · 5 likes · 1 comment · Omar Shaker

Also last month we launched Season 2 of the Gumpcast with this episode about Nationalism

In Search of Gumption

Ep12. Nationalism w/ Omar Dajani 🇺🇸🇵🇸 [The Gumpcast]

Listen now (47 min) | Subscribe at findgumption.com How much do you understand your national background? What is your relationship with your local environment? And what kind of ideologies move you without realizing? We’re back! We start Season 2 with a deep and delicious discussion around…

Listen now

3 years ago · 1 like · Omar Shaker and TheGumpcast

🍿 Up Next in February 🍿

💔 More poems for this month of Valentine’s from Ode to Heartbreak. We are still in the Pain section. Sex and Healing are to follow, so those of you that stick with it shall be rewarded (or at the very least entertained)!

👂 A new Gumpcast episode about our relationship to Gender will be released this week! Trust me, you do not want to miss this one.

Stay tuned, follow us and tell your friends:

Spotify - Apple Podcasts - Google Podcasts

or just stayed tuned for an email this week!

If you are not subscribed already then get weekly gumption by making sure you…

Subscribe now

🙋 Poll of The Week 🙋

I can’t see your answers. Gimme your truth.

💬 To elaborate please leave a comment, or simply reply to this email.

💡Musing #37 : When is it time to quit?

In the past four years, I have had to call it quits with a job, a country, a bunch of friends, a team, a project, a marriage and a video series. The more I quit things, the more time and fuel I seem to have for my creativity to flow.

Of course, we can’t always afford to quit, and sometimes we need to put our heads down and keep on keepin’ on. But that is not always in our best interest. As someone who has been a doctor, I was taught to bulge through brick walls, and save patients at any cost (including -and not limited to- my sanity).

It seems to pervade our thought like a stale old smell: Do not quit! They tell us. A marriage that is not working, a job that is not aligned, a place that we don’t like being in.

Quitting is still associated with something negative. Others seem to prefer us to suffer like them. It creates bonds.

Life tends to reward me when I quit

Medicine was the first thing I quit, and the space for things to happen in my life because of that one decision, has made my life beautiful in ways I could not even imagine.

Since then, life seems to reward me every time I quit something.

I am currently reading Murakami’s Vocation as a Novelist, and he writes about how there is a ‘mysterious characteristic’ that keeps people writing novels for a very long time. I am also dipping my toes in Rick Rubin’s The Creative Act, and he talks about how creativity is like rain falling from Source to the vessel which is us.

If we are full, then we don’t have time to receive the idea that wants to be created through us.

“some ideas may resonate, others may not.

A few may awaken an inner knowing you forgot you had.

Use what’s helpful.

Let go of the rest.”

Rick Rubin, The Creative Act

Working on the novel, feels like a plant that wants to grow, and it just needs me to give it sun, water and air.

Nothing more.

I do not create the plant.

I can not predict how it will grow.

I do not decide what its’ leaves colors are going to be.

All I can do is take care of it, keep maintaining it, and learn/read more about growing plants. That is my current mindset with writing a fiction novel. I water it every morning, and detach from the outcome every evening. That keeps it fun and energizing somehow.

But what if we all quit?

There is a question that is begging to be answered here: What if we then start quitting everything when it gets hard? What if the world quits all of its jobs? What if the farmers stop growing food? What if artists give up on the music and novels that are yet to be written? What if parents quit on their children? What if the doctors stop healing us? What if the teachers stop educating us? Etc.

What if we become a world of quitters. That is not too far fetched with more people quitting their jobs than ever before.

To be frank, I have thought of quitting the novel many times. However, it did not feel energizing for me to quit. As a matter of fact, I am energized the more I work on it. So by putting it to the test of quitting, I realize that it is important not to quit. This gives me gumption for it.

This whole Gumption project seems ridiculous sometimes.

Why am I creating a podcast, writing a novel and publishing poetry? I really have no idea. I just want to do it so bad!

I want to be here with you.

I want to be writing this very word.

I want to put these Gumpcast conversations out.

I realize that it is all worth doing for me. I realize that I really want to work on it. I realize that it really wants me to work on it. In some weird metaphysical way, the story and I, belong to each other.

Do you and your idea belong to each other?

So some doctors, farmers, teachers, musicians, novelists, parents and shamans belong to the profession, and most others don’t. Some tech entrepreneurs find an idea that is very likely to fail, but they have the ‘X factor’, and find the right moment in time to make it succeed. Many others fail.

Instead of yearning, and creating a goal around your next endeavor. I invite you to think about whether you and that project actually belong to each other.

The question is not whether you will be successful.

A better question is: does this thing want to happen through you?

You’ll notice there are at least three factors:

1- You

2- The project/creation/relationship/job/song/story…and

3- Everyone else in the world that might belong to that project more than you.

We are taught to yearn for things and optimize for winning. What happens when we optimize for a larger feeling of belonging, and instead of working harder, quit the things that we do not naturally belong to?

What does gumption actually feel like?

If you belong, then you will feel invigorated by the thought itself, amused by its potential, and you will have that feeling in your heart that you are in the right place and at the right time to do it.

That is Gumption.

There is no second guessing in gumption.

Sometimes, our ‘vessel’ is so full of thoughts, and our calendars so jammed with events, that we do not have the capacity to find that belonging in our work and life.

If that is the case, we need to quit something (small- such as a dinner or big- such as a relationship) in order to find that which we really belong to. It is ok if the job is just about money, it is a utility that helps you belong more. It is ok if a relationship is not good for you, it is teaching you a lesson. But ultimately, we all yearn for belonging, and anything worth doing gets us closer to that feeling.

When we are with things we belong to, we do not doubt our belonging to them. We flow freely with that feeling over the moon and bounce on the clouds. We are in the dream of the creator, and nothing can stop us from being sparkly stars we all are.

And that all happens for a little time, until it is no more.

And that my dear, is what I will leave you with.

Remember that we will quit this life one day

The last thought on my mind today is from the Tibetan book of Living and Dying:

The realization of impermanence is paradoxically the only thing we can hold on to, perhaps our only lasting possession.

Sogyal Rinpoche

In the end we all quit our thoughts,

our bodies,

and our lives.

We stop belonging to this life, and this is the only thing we know for sure.

You and I will both quit living one day.

So while you are still here, what is worth doing and filling your living moments with?

🙏 Sunday Gratitude 🙏

Today’s gratitude goes out to homeboy and creative genius Omar El Deeb, who continues to nourish my ability to create audio content in many ways. Check out his work in the link. He’s brilliant and he lives in LA for those looking for music composers and producers.

🫀 Stayin’ Alive…Stayin’ Alive 🫀

Uh-uh-uh-uh…

Health

My habits are back into full throttle after a shaky few months. I am back to morning Qi Gong, Intermittent Fasting, Exercise and writing every morning. The more I do those, the less I want to smoke. I also read a page of the Tibetan book of living and Dying and contemplate death in the morning. It is actually pretty nice to do that. Try it.

Craft

This is all giving me energy and time to write. I am excited to let you know that I am close to a finished Draft 2 of the novel. I also have a new name for it that I will announce later.

I am also working on a new brand for this project and will announce it soon.

I have recorded all the Season 2 episodes now. Happy to see the team come together and pull off the second episode, 10 more to go! Trying to make each one slightly better than the previous one.

Artist’s Way

I still do the morning pages but every few days now, and have not been on an Artist Date for a while. Writing this reminds me to do so.

🚀 Gumption Booster 🚀

Consider supporting the channel by becoming a founding member or else…

Just kidding, I am here for seven more years as long as I remain breathing and alive.

Omar

I am thrilled to present you with my first book today: An Ode to Heartbreak.

This fulfills my promise, commitment and declaration to myself of one book per year, for the next three years. This is not the book I expected to write, but I suppose it is the one I deserved to.

Subscribe now

Here is everything you need to know about Gumption in 2023

📖 I will print this book later in the year, but until June 1st, it will be offered exclusively here on this channel in digital and audio!

🎁 The book is my gift to you if you are one of my first 250 subscribers and supporters! If you can access the text of the poems, then I have upgraded you to a complimentary paid account.

You can read it all now or wait for a poem with its audio every single Sunday starting Jan 7th in your inbox. It will come with a reflection, music and a meditation.

♻️ If you’re into it and want to support me, you can gift it to someone else.

🌟 You can also upgrade yourself to a Founding Member, and both support my work, the podcast team, AND get one of the limited print versions of An Ode to Heartbreak.

👁️‍🗨️ The free newsletter will be reduced to once a month, and the also free Gumpcast - Season 2 will be released every other Wednesday starting Jan 11th! Yes you read that right. We’re coming back!

You can navigate between these three things from the menu bar on the top.

👨‍🎤👩‍🎤🧑‍🎤 Lastly, I will be creating more space for us to chat with each other, so stay on the lookout for virtual parties, and chat rooms!

💡 Download the substack App for the full In Search of Gumption experience.

Alas here is…

By a man who survived 2022.

Open The Book

If you are having trouble accessing it, you may just need to sign in on your browser, or download the app. The email you are getting this on is the email that has access to the book. If you are still having trouble reply to this email and I’ll help you. ❤️

**Audio version to be released soon, Subscribe to get notified, or read the poem below**

A stream once ran here

Read more

**Audio version to be released soon, Subscribe to get notified, or read the poem below**

Two Wings

Read more

**Audio version to be released soon, Subscribe to get notified, or read the poem below**

Art

Read more

**Audio version to be released soon, Subscribe to get notified, or read the poem below**

Do You Have Kids?

Read more

**Audio version to be released soon, Subscribe to get notified, or read the poem below**

Silence

Read more

**Audio version to be released soon, Subscribe to get notified, or read the poem below**

Sage

Read more

**Audio version to be released soon, Subscribe to get notified, or read the poem below**

Heart break hotel

Read more

**Audio version to be released soon, Subscribe to get notified, or read the poem below**

They say kill the Ego, but…

What will be of me
once the deed is done?

When he is long gone,
who will occupy
the void he
left behind?

Will I build another ego?
Or perhaps it’ll be
Some collective ideology
That will barge through 
my new fortress 
and plunder my soil
with seeds of its’ own?

Will I have do a killing
all over again?
Can my consciousness survive
with no personality,
no memories,
and no desires?

What will be of my present
when my past is forgotten
and my future is shunned?

Will my friends still want to talk 
To that remnant shell of me?

Will my mother still love me 
if I wasn’t a little shit?

Will my wife still look at me
the way she does?

What will be of me
and everything inside
once the killing is done?

What if that space,
once created by war,
is now occupied by peace?

And that which was once hated
is now loved 
and that which was once murdered 
is now alive,
And that which as once judged,
Is now held

and blooming,
with spring tulips,
and bright sunflowers,
from the dark dirt
I must rise.

This hard time
is the soil
from which
I will
sprout.

This confusion
is my torch,
and soon my path
will once again be
illuminated.

This heart break
is my fucking stage
to finally perform
all the tricks
I have learned.

This pain
is nothing but
a bitter pill
that will not kill
but strengthen me.

Gather my parts,
I shall,
and leave
any of them
behind,
I won’t. 

Click Previous 👈 or 👉 Next below to flip page

In Search of Gumption

27. Heart break hotel

On environments that heal us. **Audio version to be released soon, Subscribe to get notified, or read the poem below** Heart break hotel…

Read more

3 years ago · Omar Shaker

Liking this? Help spread it by gifting or become a founding member and get the limited printed edition!

Give a gift subscription

**Audio version to be released soon, Subscribe to get notified, or read the poem below**

The surgeon's blade

Read more

Check In #3 : Keep Moving, Keep Healing

"Ready for this?"

"As ready as I will ever be."

"Is the mdma kicking in yet?"

"Just a little."

"Ok so I thought for this divorce ceremony we could start by calling in the spirits to help us. Please don't roll your eyes. Can you just take this seriously?"

"Yes, yes I can. Tell me what to do."

"Which spirit would you like to call up from your family to be with us?"

"Grandpa. He was so creative and supportive and I need both."

"Great I will call on my Great grandma. Please help us remain kind and loving even in this separation."

"What was that thing call again?"

"Palo Santo.."

"I thought it sends away the spirits?"

"The unwanted ones..."

"Oh I see..."

"Ughh....I know what you are thinking"

“Whaa..? How can you? How can you know what I am thinking?"

“First, I know. Secondly, your body says it all. You are not coming from a loving place."

“What does that even mean? Where is that loving place that you talk about? And what do you want me to say? No jokes? No play?"

"Ok enough. Let's start with gratitude. Thank you great grandma and grandpa for supporting us through this difficult conversation. Is there anything you would like to say?"

Read more