He Fell Off A Cliff - Why Happy Money Man Isn't Posting

I'm down in the dirt, barely breathing, by a forest river.
My first thought is Steemit...

How did it come to this?

Shuffle back 3 hours...
I'm wandering; wondering the meaning of authenticity.
I'm bashing down barriers. Ideas breaking into my brain like a bandit.

The soul of an idea pours from my pen and spills onto paper. Electons arc across my mind with amazing abandon. I stick my lightening rod up to harness them. It's a fantastic brainstorm and I'm braving the eye.

If Steemit is changing the world, where is my place?
Why vlog surface stuff when I can push positive change?
Youtube already has hundreds of fake-famous fools.

Don't you despise their fake antics, marketing ego, and mainstream BS?
I do! How do I not run down that road? How can I be more real?

I dive into definitions of authenticity.
Then I hit a thought...
I have no backstory!

Who am I? Why am I happy? What am I fighting for?
I don't want to be petty vlogger peddling regurgitated rubbage.
To be authentic I have to show my true self. My background! My origin story! My unique weirdness!

Don't worry, I fall off a cliff soon...
We'll get there.

But, for now imagine with me.
What are your real motivations?

I decide on a quick video. I'll start sharing about myself. First I journal.

Written words wind along pages. Ink bleeds into fibers.
I scribble notes, racing my consciousness. I grab my thoughts by the tail before they skitter under the door to infinity.

I find my way to the forest for a photo shoot. I have a date with destiny. Destiny is a cruel mistress. I wish I would have stood her up. I didn't know she was about to mug me, kick me off a cliff, and crush my camera.

I'd love to screen destiny's phone calls... make her pay for her cruel ways, but love is fickle.
We're connected in a universal way. I can't leave.

I walk my camera to the edge of a ravine. The river is innocent so far below. It beckons me like a siren. She and destiny are a conspiring and cackling, hidden in the redwoods.

“Oh yes, come to the river Happy Money Man. You'll get some fantastic footage.”

There's 7 Steps in my video. 1-4 wind on wonderfully. I step slightly. I slip and slide some, but I'm a mountain man. Falling is really not my thing. Falling is for faint-hearted city-folk. Oh no, I'll bull my way through with bravado.

Tip 5 ends up being the early grand finale.
I look into the camera. A grin creases my lips. The camera captures content... as she sneaks up on me.

Destiny has arrived for our date...

She pulls a dirt clod from under my precarious posture. I try to leap to safety, but the cliff is too steep. I land, slide, slash, bang, boom.

My camera frees itself from my mortal grip. Mr. Camera escapes on his own bumbling journey to the bottom of the mountain. I thought my camera loved me. Why would he leave me in my time of need?

I'm falling fast in slow motion.
“I'll remember that Camera! We're not cool anymore!”

My rolling camera and I are ravaged. We roll to rest in the ravine. My camera is completely under water. I don't feel so bad-ass anymore.

Shoot, what about my Steemit friends? Will they forget me forever?
They'll never hear my message. They'll never know I wanted Steemit to change the world.

I'm hobbled. I harness my will. I heft my gear out of the stream. Electronics don't take well to CPR. I give a few blows into cracks. Alas, Mr. Camera's time has passed.

I now forgive my camera, mic, and gimble. I know I hated them for abandoning me during the fall, but now I think back on all our good times. We grew together. We started Steemit together. We discovered ourselves, and found truth. We explored meaning together. We met friends and built connections.

We were just making plans to really change things. We were just probing the power of a platform for social change.

I don't hate my camera anymore. Forgiveness is a beautiful thing. Now I just have fond memories and a fierce desire to push forward. I'll complete the dreams we forged together. Though Mr. Camera's electrodes no longer fire, his footage forges forward from my heart.

Alas, I'm willed back to the ancient art of writing. I can borrow my wife's phone. I can start again. I'll claw back slowly and save to buy new gear.

Is it frustrating? F*&K Yea!
Am I giving up?
Of course not! Steemit is a blessing.

We're part of something bigger than social media. We're part of something that can change the world.
I realize that when I post, people hear and feel what I'm saying. You have that power too.
I think about all the great content that's affected my life.

I think of @lifemovedbysteem, @quinneaker, and @stellabelle. They've challenged me to be real.

I want to be part of the Steemit movement. I don't just want to vlog. I want to see real world things happen because of my input.

So today, I fell off a cliff, ruined all my video equipment, and busted my arm.
Today, I also discovered my true authenticity. I found my north star I'll follow to grow our community.

I hope to salvage some footage when my camera dries. I hope my fall is recorded in all it's glory. If my old friend “Mr Camera”, can give me one parting gift, he'll release his death grip on our film. Maybe he'll give up footage of our last moments as a team.

Click The Button! Lets Be Friends!

Cheers My Steem Friends!
Much Love, Happy Money Man.