Clint Robert Murphy


A while back, I responded to this tweet from Camp F.I.R.E., which was a guest post by Rod Rogers, of the blog make money by cleaning offices.

The tweet, and my reply, started me thinking about FIRE. The many paths that you might take to get there. The realization that one person’s fire may not be another’s.

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September 3, 2020

Chapter 2 – Caiden

After dinner had been cleared, the forge fire banked, the animals fed, and the stalls cleaned, Caiden found himself immersed in his nightly studies. As he had done each night since his earliest memories, Caiden listened to Trom and settled his focus, concentrating all his energy on the movements of his awkward body.

As usual, they began with the simple Cat Step, a movement done with ease and little effort. As the hours wore on, the poses became more and more difficult, a challenge to both the body and the focus of the mind. Caiden’s body shook with effort and pain, the strain painting deep furrows in his brow. And yet, Trom did not let up. If anything, he pushed Caiden harder, making him hold the increasingly complex positions for significantly longer periods of time, pushing to imprint the memory into the boy’s muscles.

Even as his body and mind were strained to the limit, Caiden found time to reflect. For years his father had subjected him to this nightly regimen, Trom assuring him that this practice was a means to healing his body and building his physical strength. Caiden recognized it for what it was. His father pushed him desperately, drove him, night after night, not so he would be healthy but so that he might one day belong. So that the time would come when he might someday be physically and mentally strong enough to walk among the other children of the village, so that he might be one of them and not the outsider he currently was. This torture of mind and body was derived out of love, Caiden reassured himself.

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August 28, 2020

Chapter 1 – Trom


The high pitched voice of the young boy cut through the oppressive silence of the small blacksmith’s cottage.  Disturbed from his quiet contemplation, Trom raised his eyes from the simple meal of steamed rice and salted fish.  His piercing blue gaze slowly scanned his surroundings, taking in the bare furnishings and worn flooring before coming to rest on the child.

With practiced ease he removed the veil of a father’s love from his eyes, staring at the child before him as though a stranger.  What was it others saw when they looked at this boy?  His son?

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5 Day Silent Retreat – What I Learned

August 17, 2020

A silent retreat.

A good idea.

I thought.

I needed a rest, a reboot…

Too much stress at work. At home…

Too much anger and yelling with my family.

I need to be the father my boys deserve.

The Partner that my wife deserves and knows I can become.

I need to change…to do the work…

A silent retreat in Palm Springs practicing mindfulness seemed like it might be the way to achieve that.

As an aside, I would be traveling from Vancouver in early January so a six day weather upgrade wouldn’t hurt.

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I ran every day for 1-1/2 years…Here is what I learned

August 17, 2020

Growing up, I was athletic.

As I got older and went to work, I got less athletic.

Picture a thirty-year-old colleague with a Dad Bod without being a Dad.

That was it, time for me to get fit. So, I started training for triathlon and worked my way up to an Ironman race.

Mission Accomplished — I was fit and somewhere in that training I became a Dad.

Wait…Mission Not Accomplished…I pushed too hard…I got hurt…I did not exercise for the next 3+ years…

In those 3+ years, I got promoted…I worked a lot…I got my Dad Bod back…

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