We are all born with intrinsic paths.

The intrinsic path is made only of things you love. Publicly, privately, proudly, shamefully. The intrinsic path is your passion, your wheelhouse, your jam. Yours. You lose track of time on the path, or you find what I hear is called flow-state.

It doesn’t matter what that activity is. Even if it’s stupid as hell. Especially if it’s stupid as hell. The important thing is to know what it is, and that it is there. To identify it and say aloud to the back of your mind: ‘I love this, goddamnit. And I will gravitate toward it.’

Only rule is intrinsic paths do not interfere with other intrinsic paths.

What does your path look like?

Mine is littered with silly, simple things: dogs and magic tricks and writing and gadgets and jawbreakers. Perhaps in that order.

Maybe it’s a health thing. When I caught diabetes in 1979, I made a few “When I’m grown up” promises to myself on the gurney bed:

• I will never go hungry again.
• I will buy every toy I ever wanted.
• I will eat jelly beans for dinner.

So, for a bit, that was my road. The great thing about intrinsic paths is that you decide what goes on it, what comes off it, what was never there to begin with. The intrinsic path is as malleable as you are, because it is you.

What promises did you make to yourself as a kid? That’s the cement of your intrinsic path.

Now please pass that tub of Jelly Bellies. I know they’re just gelatin and compost, but I’m a sucker for the Buttered Popcorns. Tastes just like it!