Reading the Opening Track
As I return to the Introduction of Tracking Triggers, I'm paying attention to what still feels alive—and what I'm uncertain about.
If you haven't read the Introduction yet, no rush—these questions will still be here when you're ready. I've posted the Introduction with photos at trackingtriggers.com/journey.
The opening follows the arc of a journey: loss, descent, wandering, return. That structure helped me hold together experiences that unfolded over decades. Without it, the material felt scattered.
But as I re-read it now, what stays with me are the moments that were missed at the time—sensations without words, fear that arrived before understanding, energy that went underground instead of finding expression. Again and again, the meaning came much later, sometimes decades later, only after there was enough safety or language to see what had been happening.
Which leaves me with a few questions:
1. Here's what I'm actually uncertain about: Does the Introduction read as "look at my journey" or as "here's why I had to write this book"?
The personal stories aren't meant to showcase my path—they're meant to reveal the pattern of misattunement that drove me to develop this framework. The same dilemma plays through every reexamined track: sensation without language, assertion without expression, needs that went underground.
Does that purpose come through, or does the amount of personal material risk feeling self-focused?
2. There are two places where strong, unfiltered language appears: "chicken shit" in the Kloof High School story, and "Fuck you" in the Carpet Cleaner Epiphany.
In the Kloof story, "chicken shit" was what the boys were calling out—external taunting that I internalized as self-judgment. In the Carpet Cleaner moment, "Fuck you" names an assertion that had been underground for years—internal resentment that had no outlet and leaked through the body instead.
Both phrases capture something real about those moments, but I'm wondering: Do they ground the experience more honestly, or do they pull focus from the quieter movement underneath?
I'm not looking for conclusions—just impressions.
If something in the opening feels especially clear, or especially muddy, I'd want to know that. And if nothing calls for comment, that's information too.
The tracks are still fresh.