All in Lessons

New Tides, New Adventures

I got married last week in Puerto Rico. I also just got off a seven-day honeymoon cruise sailing around the Lesser Antilles.

But a week before all this, I was informed that my cush two-day per week position at a creative agency was being phased out. It was actually more like a heartfelt request to come back full-time, or else move on, which was equal parts flattering and frustrating. One thing it wasn’t was confusing. As soon as the ultimatum was thrown down, I knew my decision: I was outta there.

Sleep Aid

The phone alarm blasted into my brain like a jackhammer-tipped freight train. Out of context the chime could be described as sweet, even soothing, but the tone had been corrupted and now elicited only fury. I swung my legs out from under the cozy covers and fumbled my toes around to find my slippers. On they went. My first moment of triumph in the last four hours. It was eight o’ clock, I had been awake since four, and this was not normal.

Wet Green Glory – A Daydream

The hill sloped steeply down from the mountain. Sharp black crags faded to green as the meadow ate its way up the foothills. The story is the same as far as the eye can see – emerald valley marching into the blue-grey haze of atmosphere with its river spine snaking chasing the horizon.

This is Ireland, he says quietly to no one. This was a good idea.

Wanted: Blood, Sweat, and Tears

There’s just something about working with your hands.

Especially when you’ve been too long working with your fingers.

When day in day out you’ve been tip tapping away on screens and keyboards, it is a soulfully welcome departure to do a bit of carpentry or construction (or destruction for that matter).

Hammers and saws and sanders and stain. I’ll be damned if I ever go desking again.

Conversations with a Mystery Musician

I met (name) yesterday.

Fluting around on the NW side.

He passed by and I said “Hey, that’s beautiful.”

He said “Thanks.”

It was only after he walked around the corner at the end of the block that I’d remembered a little snippet from Rick Rubin’s interview on the Broken Record Podcast: “Yea, I’ve just been really wanting to soothe people with my instrumental music, so these days I often go to the park and flute around.”

Goodness, that was (name) that just walked by…

First Fruits

The 2nd espresso hits the bottom of your belly like Molotov, exploding fire into your spirit and whipping energy up your spine.

“I’m ready!”

But ready for what?

“Ready to give my gift to the world, of course!”

But which gift? And more importantly, which world?

To whom shall you bequeath your first fruits?

Choose carefully, for this is how you build your life…

3 Counterintuitive Meditation Tips for the Busy-Minded

"Let the battle begin." I think to myself as I adjust my ass on the cushion.

"Breathe in for a count of 1, 2, 3...and exhale, 1, 2, 3..." The disembodied voice soothes at us. "Notice the muscles in your face. Notice your brow, your eyes, your jaw...and allow all tension to melt away...1, 2, 3..."

"Melt" I think. "Cheese" I think. "Chuck E. Cheese" I think. "Man, what a terrible job that would be, to have to sit in a sweaty rat suit all day while kids run around punching and kicking you in your sensitive rat-parts...".

"Darn it! Back to the goddamn breath...1, 2, 3"

My adversary has made his first move.

Big Fishbein, Small Pond - The Law of Averages & The Key to Happiness

Most folks are possessed by one of two fears:

#1 - "I'm not doing enough, not dreaming big enough. I'm lazy and will never really achieve the thing in life that will truly fulfill."

#2 - "I'm too ambitious, I dream too big. I'm afraid that my eyes are always so focused on the future milestones I'm missing out on the joys of the present...and upon my death bed I'll realize in horror the life I could've lived.

I am unfortunately afflicted with both.

Mayhaps not so unfortunate...but before I spoil the ending, allow me to begin at the beginning.

An Ounce of Pre-Production is Worth a Pound of Post

Creative marketing and advertising is sometimes a catch 22. We artists scream for freedom, for pure and unconstrained parameters of creation, yet, we are notoriously lazy, disorganized, and distractible. We clamor that rigid guidelines and fixed turnaround times poison our creative processes...but somewhere deep inside we worry that if truly left to our own devices we’d never get anything done.

These ideas are false. My experience does not show that planning kills spontaneity. It does not indicate a correlation between a firm deadline and a sacrifice of creativity.

An ounce of pre-production is worth a pound of post.