The Primordial Force of Stoke
It's easy to miss
This is a somewhat cheeky exploration of a phrase I’ve been playing with recently - “The Primordial Force of Stoke”. Enjoy!
If you’re ready for an epic adventure drenched in stoke, the VIVIFY Regenerative Leadership Program launches in April. It’s a wilderness-based coaching journey built around a weeklong off-trail backpacking trip in the High Sierra.
We’ve got an incredible cohort coming together. If you’re curious, just reach out and we can set up a call.
Let’s talk about a primordial force - one that’s tragically endangered in our modern world.
Let’s talk about stoke.
You’ve probably heard the word before, likely in the same sentence as the word “bro”. And yes, “I’m stoked” is a big part of the rad bro vernacular common to ski hills, climbing gyms, and music festivals the world over.
But I think there’s something more. I haven’t found another word that better captures the essence of what I’m pointing to.
It’s deeper than excitement - more guttural, felt lower in the body. It’s brighter than Eros, more likely to lead to irrepressible grins and laughter.
When I’m connected to it, it feels ancestral. It feels primordial. It feels like raw enthusiasm for life and the experience of being alive coursing through my veins, pervading every cell.
It’s anticipation & execution.
It’s pride & confidence.
It’s “a full body, mind, & soul fuck yes.” - Kali Aevermann
Stoke is essential.
Stoke Deficit Disorder (SDD)
I’m writing this piece because I think it’s easy to miss. It’s easy to lose our connection to stoke, and to not be sure what exactly we’ve lost.
And our lives are diminished because of it.
“What do you call a phase that’s not quite burnout, not a depressive episode, just feeling meh?
One that you don't even notice you’re in until you look back and think: “I wasn’t feeling my best then”
I thought of a ‘meh field’ but looked it up and seems like I hallucinated it?”
-A post on X from @neuranne
This post got a ton of traction in my world last week, because I think it taps into something that many of us have experienced. A period in life where the colors seem less bright, where we’re less inspired, where we’re just feeling “meh”.
There’s no crisis, but also no momentum.
I think a big part of this is a lack of stoke.
In 2021, I was feeling this way. I was on Zoom from 9-6 most days, doing a lot of busywork that didn’t involve much creativity or ownership, and due to some housemate health concerns, wasn’t able to see many friends.
I wasn’t depressed. I wasn’t (consistently or overwhelmingly) anxious. I was just meh. I felt dull. Life felt stale. I was missing stoke.
The dictionary definition of the word “stoke” is “to feed, or stir up, especially a fire or furnace.”
I love that. When we’re deficient in stoke, our fire dims.
Pathways to Stoke
Stoke is pure excitement and joie de vivre. It’s being deliciously overwhelmed by the force of our love for the world and our experience of living in it. It’s letting ourselves be moved by life — to grin, holler, laugh and play. It’s touching the magic of life and letting that electricity course through our veins.
Stoke is ripping maté at 4 AM in a tent on a glacier, trying to put your frozen ski boots on.
Stoke is the involuntary “fuck yes” after finding a secure hold after 15 feet of tenuous, scary climbing.
Obviously, I find stoke through adventure. And yes, in our culture the word is mostly used by those in and peripheral to the outdoor adventure world.
But I’d argue the feeling goes far beyond that.
Stoke can be a slow burn - the satisfaction of delivering a presentation you’re proud of. The culmination of hours of effort on a difficult piece of writing.
If you’re going to write a book in 5 days (h/t Kelly Miller), you better be stoked.
Stoke is planning the perfect Valentine’s Day experience for your partner. Stoke is finally nailing the guitar lick you’ve been practicing for weeks. Stoke is finding flow while dancing. Stoke is a filthy drop.
Just like any other primordial force - love, grief, beauty, creativity - there’s both something universal and specific about it. We all experience it differently, but there’s something consistent.
I find stoke when I take my first steps uphill.
You might find it when you carve out time to paint.
But we know it when we feel it.
To What Are We Devoted To?
A moment here on the dark side of stoke - a hungry ghost in pursuit of the next peak experience. I touched on this in a recent interview with Tucker Walsh1, exploring the balance between chasing the next high, and using these experiences as fuel to enliven our deeper work in the world.
In short, it’s about integration and devotion. To what are we devoted to? Which gods are we feeding?
Can we integrate the energy we get from the moments that stoke us into that devotion?
Within VIVIFY, we explore two aspects of Regenerative Leadership - Personal Regeneration and Collective Regeneration. I think stoke is a core aspect of a commitment to personal regeneration, but we also need to be grounded in our foundational commitment to the collective, whatever that means to us.
Let us stoke our furnaces, and then burn brightly for our communities.
Physicality and Devotion
Stoke is a walk-up song. Stoke is swagger.
Stoke is the thrill of adventure, the lure of the unknown.
At least for me, stoke is embedded in physicality. It comes through when I’m moving my body, whether through the wild places of this world, or on a dance floor.
My hope with this piece to shine a light on an aspect of our lives that I feel is easy to miss.
We each have challenges in our lives, and our world is in crisis. Those challenges and crises need our attention. But we need the life force to offer ourselves fully and creatively to those problems.
Can we give ourselves the space to drop the to-do list, to step away from anything directly productive, and offer ourselves fully to that which brings us alive?
Can we fall in love with life again and again?
Can we tend our connection to the primordial force of stoke?
*which I’ll admit, I’m quite proud of - if you’re curious about a deeper dive into my story, the origins of VIVIFY, and my work with the Animas Valley Institute, I think this is the most eloquent and clear place I’ve spoken publicly so far.
From my experience, "meh" starts as a vacuum of meaning.
As in we are doing things we don't love or care about. There's no reason or cause for what we do.
There may be ways to artificially "pump ourselves up" but that's only temporary.
Being stoked (sustainably) may require meaning.
I like this part:
A moment here on the dark side of stoke - a hungry ghost in pursuit of the next peak experience. I touched on this in a recent interview with Tucker Walsh1, exploring the balance between chasing the next high, and using these experiences as fuel to enliven our deeper work in the world.
In short, it’s about integration and devotion. To what are we devoted to? Which gods are we feeding?
Can we integrate the energy we get from the moments that stoke us into that devotion?
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The connection between stoke and devotion feels deep. Currently paging through David Brooks' The Second Mountain, which talks about living a committed life. Perhaps devoted stoke is the particular flavor we are after?