Thinking of Dinner at Lunch

A collection of poetry and prose

This is the seventh book I’ve self-published.

Here’s the description I wrote for the Amazon page:

A collection of poetry and prose, Thinking of Dinner at Lunch commemorates another step on the author’s spiritual journey. Juxtaposes the frenetic pace of modern life with the allure of a simpler, more natural existence. Anguishes over a fiery love snuffed out and then rekindled. Explores ego dissolution as a remedy for death anxiety. Expresses gratitude for the opportunity to live and write. Wonders what it all means.

And weaves these deeper ruminations through human experiences grounded in the surface reality of spacetime: growing up in Kansas, watching a thunderstorm, listening to Grandpa’s stories, traveling to new places, dancing in an underground club in Paris, walking through the woods in Montana, observing old men at the coffee shop, swimming in the freezing ocean, looking in the mirror for too long, lying awake in bed at night, staring at the ceiling.

How you can support my writing

1. Buy the book

2. Leave a review on Amazon

Some introspection on why I continue to write and publish books …

Why do I write?

I write because I know how.

I learned to write in school.

Why did I learn to write?

I didn’t have much of a choice.

My parents put me in school.

I suppose I could have skipped class or refused to learn, but I actually enjoyed school. So much that my parents would “punish” me by taking away my homework.

Why do I publish books?

Sophomore year of college, we were running around the lake on campus. It was winter—snow on the ground, lake frozen.

One of my friends shouted back to the rest of us, “What’s one thing you guys want to do before you die?”

My answer: I want to write a book.

After I said it, I thought to myself, what am I waiting for?

So I started writing that book immediately when I got back to my dorm room.

Why do I continue to write?

We all write.

Emails for work.

Text messages to our friends.

To-do lists and shopping lists.

But not everybody writes poems, or at least not intentionally.

Why do I write poetry?

I started writing poetry during my senior year of college.

The second book I published was the first with some poems in it.

Verse just started making sense at some point.

Line breaks felt more right than periods and commas.

Why do I continue to publish books?

I don’t intend to write a book in the beginning.

I mostly write in the moment.

Trying to write at the dance club

Write in the moment of inspiration (don't wait)

When I feel inspired, I type on my phone or record a voice note.

So I end up with a bunch of short pieces of writing.

At some point, usually every 1-2 years, I have enough to fill a book.

I could leave it all unpublished. It would just exist on my phone, on my computer, and in my journals.

Would I still write if I knew nobody would read it?

There are certain things I write just for myself.

To-do lists and shopping lists.

Journal entries.

Writing helps me remember things, process my emotions.

But these aren’t the types of writing that I publish in books.

The pieces of writing that I publish in books, I have a sense that they are “good.”

If we follow this back to the original point of creation for each piece, why am I writing it?

Am I writing because I intend to share it with others?

When I write a poem, it is most often because something about the present moment has invoked an emotion in me.

Wonder, awe, amazement, pleasure, happiness, excitement.

And negative emotions as well: anxiety, depression, pain.

I guess it’s similar to how people take photos with the intention of showing them to others, e.g., photographing a beautiful sunset.

“Check out this photo of this awesome thing I saw.”

In one sense, words are less powerful than a photograph.

On the other hand, they are much more powerful. So much of human experience is based on words.

Think about how words can impact people.

Someone makes a public comment in a group setting about something you are already self-conscious about. Embarrassment. Anxiety.

Your partner says they are going to leave you. Pain. Fear. Sadness.

You get an email with an offer for a new job that pays twice as much as your old job. Excitement. Joy. Happiness.

What do I expect to gain from sharing my writing with others?

Some writers write for money.

I decided years ago not to do this, for at least two reasons:

1. When you write for money, you’re selling a product to a market. To increase sales, you revise the product until you achieve product-market fit. I don’t want to revise my art in this way.

2. Most writers don’t make very much money. I can make more from my other skills.

Some writers write for fame.

Maybe I do this to an extent.

I get a little hit of dopamine whenever somebody says they liked something I wrote.

But I enjoy this on the micro level.

I don’t think I’d get much more enjoyment from mass quantities of recognition.

And the quality of the recognition matters.

The best is when I actually connect with someone on something I wrote. They feel the same way or have the same idea. We understand each other. We’re both interested in the topic and continue a dialogue about it.

How can I serve others by sharing my writing?

I believe in the power of ideas.

Ideas can change people’s minds.

Words are a great way to communicate ideas.

Books are a great way to organize words.

Books can change people’s minds.

This has happened to me many times throughout my life.

These books have made a big impact on me:

• Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill

• Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand

• The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand

• Walden by Henry David Thoreau

• The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen R. Covey

• How to Win Friends & Influence People by Dale Carnegie

• Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse

• Flow by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

• Mindfulness in Plain English by Bhante Bhante Gunaratana

• Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari

• Sex at Dawn by Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jetha

• The Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac

• The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle

• A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle

• Healing Back Pain by Dr. John E. Sarno

• Ishmael by Daniel Quinn

• Grist for the Mill by Ram Dass

• Ask and It Is Given by Esther and Jerry Hicks

If there are problems with the world, I believe books are a great way to solve them.

Tension between my writing and my spiritual practice.

Without words, things just are.

I look at it and it is.

I look at a door.

It's a door even before I say that it’s a door, even before I form the word door in my mind.

The word “door” is just something I've been taught. It's a layer on top of reality, but it's not reality. It's just helpful for human communication.

So it almost makes me not want to write.

I’ve written more about this here:

Is writing disrupting my mindfulness?

Continued reflection on the relationship between my writing and my spiritual practice

Again, thinking about the connection between my writing and my spiritual practice

Tension between my writing and the joy of the present moment.

When a moment occurs to me as being beautiful or joyful or exciting, I have this urge to write it down.

On the other hand, I feel like I should just be staying present and enjoying the emotion that I'm experiencing.

When I start writing, it kind of ruins the moment. It takes my focus away from just having a sensory experience. And turns it into a methodical process of trying to translate the experience into words.

In 2020, I went on a trip to Montana. My intention for the trip was that I would meditate on my purpose. And I came away from that trip with a conclusion.

I wrote down in my journal:

“I am a writer. I write what I learn. I put my experiences into words.”

Now, I think differently about it.

I'm not a writer. It’s something I do. But it's not who I am.

I just am. I am whatever I am, as I am, at any given moment.

That's one of the realizations from my spiritual practice. I feel less of a need to categorize and identify myself.

Part of me thinks that writing was just a phase of my life.

Writing was helpful to process my thoughts and feelings during major transitions in my life.

I also think I was motivated to write for validation, to feel loved and appreciated for creating something good.

But now it feels like I'm entering into a new phase and I feel the need to write less.

Other needs are getting stronger: to just live, to be in the moment, to enjoy, to be grateful, to serve others.

I’ve written more about this here:

I don't know what I feel until I write it down (and then I still don't)

But the part that really bugs me is when I start to write. I am being present. I am flowing with what comes to my senses. I am dancing to the music. But then it just gets to be too good to let go, and that's when I sit down in the middle of the dance floor and start to write.

Why do I feel the need to do this? Why must I write? At some point, it was certainly because of my egoic desires. I wanted to be regarded as a talented writer. I wanted to write a masterpiece that people would adore. Now it's just something to do. I get bored otherwise. And I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I do like it when people appreciate my writing. Maybe it's as simple as that. But at what point is the joy of people liking my writing less than the joy of being present? When it reaches that point, will I stop writing and just be present?

How you can support my writing

1. Buy the book

2. Leave a review on Amazon

Thanks,
Cole