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Poly-passionate. Coder, writer, technical lead, coach. Also into mindset, fitness, productivity, finance and personal development.

Poly-passionate. Coder, writer, technical lead, coach. Also into mindset, fitness, productivity, finance and personal development.

That’s what my 160-character bio says. I think it’s the shortest way I’ve ever introduced myself. And as such, it falls horribly short of doing a proper job.

Not that I think I do much better, really. Or more proper. But that’s just me.

In case you’re just here for the reads, here’s a list of my favorite stories!

Me. Photo by my wife.

Hi! I’m Erik, and I have pretty terrible self-confidence (as should be apparent from the look on my face in the photo above). And I’m a perfectionist, which is about the worse combination you can find, IMHO. …


And boy, is it a party!

Cabinet holding stacks of colored paper
Cabinet holding stacks of colored paper
Photo by @shawnanggg on Unsplash

Medium introduced lists, like, 200 years ago. What can I say, it took me a while to get with the times and look into them.

What I found made me giddy like a schoolgirl, frilly pink dress and all.

List are pretty much what I’ve always wanted but never knew to ask for. I am not exactly a niche kinda guy. I could say I am “still trying to find my voice,” or that I am “exploring all avenues.” You could even say I am sowing my royal oats.


Stats don’t matter. They really don’t.

Colorful balloons
Colorful balloons
Photo by Adi Goldstein on Unsplash

It’s been three months already!? But, I’ve not had a single bonus yet, or made 10’s of k’s of money or attracted hundreds of thousands of hungry followers, salivating for more of my brilliant prose! I even had stories making *gulp* ZERO money!

Clearly, I’m not ready to share my results with the world.

Everyone loves a success story. We all just love to read about how someone else made thousands of dollars on their first, obviously viral, post. We’re all shivering with anticipation to hear how they did it, and how we can do it too.

That’s the first…


A musical ode to my favorite group of writers.

four person hands wrap around shoulders while looking at sunset
four person hands wrap around shoulders while looking at sunset
One day I’ll replace this with a picture of all of us. Until then, photo by Helena Lopes on Unsplash

Last Friday, I was in my car on the way to an appointment, blasting my (now second) favorite playlist and unabashedly screaming (because I wouldn’t call it singing) along with the songs, when suddenly I realized something.

The songs reminded me of people. Very specific people. In particular, Danielle Loewen and Lindsay Rae Brown.

An idea was born. The result is in front of you.

I met Danielle and Lindsay through the wonderful Facebook group Medium Rare: Lounge. And with them, I met and made friends with a group of the most amazing writers and people (writers are people too…


Stop trying to create them and just write

Wooden table featuring an open notebook, a mug and a bottle of milk.
Wooden table featuring an open notebook, a mug and a bottle of milk.
A perfect writing opportunity? Photo by Thom Holmes on Unsplash

It’s Sunday morning. I dropped off the kids at my parents' on Thursday. They’ll be there until Monday afternoon, to be brought back just in time for their swimming lesson to bump my wife and I back into the realities of parenthood.

Friday was spent visiting (in order of appearance) my physiotherapist, a furniture store, a kitchen specialist and a bathroom showroom. The result? Muscle ache in my shoulder, a new couch featuring automatic leg rests and USB (no bluetooth though), a so-much-over-budget-we-will-never-speak-of-it-again dream kitchen and a lot of frustration regarding the incompetence of bathroom “consultants.”

I’d say that’s a…


My personal struggles with getting help.

Man holding his temples looking down.
Man holding his temples looking down.
Photo by Siavash Ghanbari on Unsplash

Tomorrow it will be exactly one year since my doctor referred me to get psychological help. A therapist.

One year. That’s 12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days, give or take a few. And by the time I got the referral, I’d already spent 2 months meeting with my doctor weekly, then bi-weekly.

14 months have gone by since I first gathered all my courage to finally, finally make that one phone call. The one that said “Look doc, I tried. I tried to do this by myself. I tried certifying as an NLP Practitioner to learn all the tricks. I…


So cute, I just had to go down rabbit hole.

Two wedding rings on table with roses in background.
Two wedding rings on table with roses in background.
Photo by Євгенія Височина on Unsplash

Up until now, I’ve been staying well away from NFTs, or Non-Fungible Tokens. Honestly, I don’t really understand them, or the hype that surrounds them. Also, the name kept filling my head with images of mushrooms. And I really don’t need those in there.

But then I read this article on The Verge that made my geek heart pitter-patter, so I just had to get stuck in and figure out what NFTs are all about.

Isn’t that brilliant? The greatest thing about virtual rings is that you cannot drop them down the sink (or worse) and lose them. …


I’m always hungry

Boy reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar to a girl by flashlight.
Boy reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar to a girl by flashlight.
My son reading to his sister. Photo by my wife.

One of the biggest benefits I see to having children is that they open your world to a slew of new things; Minecraft, My Little Pony, blanket forts, literal sand cakes… and literature.

Children’s literature is amazing. It’s often incredibly well-written, just long enough to entrance a small reader right until the end and it can serve up a moral without them even noticing! And if you’ve tried to serve a child anything (I’m looking at you, broccoli), you know they always notice.

It’s uncanny. Like they have a sixth sense.

But I digress.

One of the most brilliant pieces…


A short story

Photo by Yves Moret on Unsplash

I looked at the passing landscape. Greenfields, almost endless, still damp with morning dew, although it was already noon. The sun did not give warmth, not much, but the light made the foggy fields seem almost unreal. We entered a small town and I turned away from the window, looking at my fellow travelers.

It was noon and few traveled at noon. I had effortlessly secured a seat for myself alone and made myself comfortable. The people who entered the wagon ignored me, no one asking me whether the three seats around me were taken. They didn’t need to.

We…

Erik Burger

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