I don’t know what clickhole you fell down, but I’m happy you’re here. After all, falling down clickholes can lead to uncertainty . . . uncertainty can lead to new learning . . . and new learning can lead to an unexpected life. Doesn’t that sound better than the predictable¬†white picket fence, 401K, taco bell breakfast, social-media, Keurig machine, version of the American Dream?

It does to me.

My name is Jordan Wakefield and I’m a writer, podcaster, educator, husband, father, and seeker of curiosities. Sometimes I’m a degenerate, sometimes I’m a saint. More often, I’m in between.

To me, this world is one large, old curiosity shop and I have enjoyed indulging in its’ wares. I have co-run a wrestling federation, sailed the Pacific in a nuclear submarine, competed as a teacher, self-published two graphic novels, started podcasts, and traveled extensively through North America.

My life has been good, but it hasn’t been all that I can make it. Of course, that is no-one’s fault save mine, but that’s a hard pill to swallow. However, in early 2016, events in my life coalesced in such a way as to stir within me a sudden, unrelenting existential angst. Over and over, that famous permutation of a Thoreau quote hummed through my neurons: “most men lead lives of quiet desperation and die with their song still inside them.”

I can’t let that happen. I can’t die with my song inside me. I want to sing for my wife, my children, and my friends. I want to sing for total strangers whom I will never meet. But my singing comes from my fingertips. My passion is educational, not musical. So it will be, that my songs are sung in the form of essays, blogs, and podcasts. And as I learn more, as my visual expands, so too will the depth and breadth of my notes.

At least, that is my hope. Strap in, dear reader, for this is an incredible journey!