Category: post

Stop. Right now. Just stop.

Stop!

Just take a second to appreciate how amazing this all is.

This is traveling to you through a series of wires and beams of light. Over air, land, sea, and outer space. With a language translated into several different languages only to then be translated back to you, anywhere you can access it, in near real time. Less than a second after I tapped a button with my finger on a device that is small enough to fit in my pocket you could read this from any other point of connection into this network on the planet.

The thing is, those in their 30s and above have a unique memory. We have a solid memory of a time before any of this was possible and today when it all is. We have memory of a time when to call another country required turning a rotary dial so many times and was so expensive that most of us sent paper letters instead — except for the most urgent of news. Now, we can type or record video or sound and have it reach thousands or millions or billions all over the earth, instantly, for free.

Those born today will not remember a time when none of this was possible. This is the new normal. They won’t see it the same way. To them, what we have lived through will be something they read in a history book.

Therefore, it is up to us to not take it for granted. To treat the Internet and all surrounding technology with reverence, respect, and care. To stop, every now and then, and take some time to appreciate it.

And, then, to get back to work and start making it even better. To fuel the innovation, ideas, and giant leaps that will give the ones behind us something to stop and be just as amazed by. To write the next history.

I’m a full-time independent writer who does my part in writing the next history by bringing you things to think about every day. If you enjoy what you read here, please consider a free will donation of any amount.

I collect Buddhas. Buddha statues mainly. But I have a rule. I never buy them for myself. They must be given to me. Because it’s not just about the statues. It is about those that gave them to me and when and why. Each one tells a story.

I set up this MacGuffin of only collecting them as gifts, in part, to collect not the Buddhas but these stories. I want each one to be special and be connected to a place, time, and person. In this way the statue becomes a prompt to a deeper memory. Hopefully, one filled with sentiment and meaning.

Yet, is this not true of all things we acquire? Even the seemingly mundane? I can tell you where and when and why I bought the jeans I’m wearing. My sweater and my boots too. The iPad I’m typing this on has a story attached to it. As does the app I’m using to write it.

The fact is every interaction has a story. Some more memorable than others. Some we create with purpose. Others are the detritus of a life lived. Yet all are essential in weaving the fabric we call “us”.

"We find truth in the things we come back to. The longer you hold onto what you love the more you realize that it is something you truly love. In that sense you dont define your passions your passion defines you." – Patrick Rhone – Clark Loves Me.

I was honored to be among the artists, photographers, designers, and writers to be featured in Clark Patrick’s ongoing Clark Loves Me series. Therein, he profiles artists of all stripes by photographing, interviewing, and detailing the essence of their work.

Clark is an amazing guy and we clicked on a level that happens rarely but is so rewarding when it does. This was less an interview and more of a verbal jam session between two artists who are passionate about The Work™ and all that encompasses it. His own work is as artistically pure as any photographer I’ve ever met. He uses a mixture of photographic equipment and techniques that literally span the history of the medium. The photos you see in the feature were taken with a modern digital camera through an antique lens and camera box that were both well over a hundred years old. Thus, the artistry is not only about the finished product but the entire journey to create it. I could have spent hours just watching him work.

I don’t even remember saying the quote above but I’m glad Clark captured it and included it in the story because it distills so much of what I believe to be truth. He did such a wonderful job of capturing the spirit of my work by communicating what he took from it which, for a writer, is the highest honor.

Just because you used to love something, does not mean that you are obligated to keep doing it long after you stop loving it. In fact, you are likely doing that something a disservice by not pouring your all into it.

Worse still, you may be preventing someone, somewhere, from doing that something you are doing and no longer loving. It could be something that they would really love and you are taking up their space.

So, if this is you and you are no longer in love with what you do, stop doing that.

I love my iPhone and all of the apps that help me communicate, manage my day, or entertain me during my free time. But I love my pens and paper even more, and if I have the choice, they are going to win almost every time.

via There's An App For That … And I Don't Want It — The Pen Addict.

I, too, choose paper for many, many, things for and for many of the same reasons. I love writing with pen and paper and, for certain things like my task lists, paper works far better for me. I have tried to keep a task list digitally but pen and paper are always my sensible default.

You see, tasks on paper keep me accountable. It is physical. It’s in my face. Left on my desk I can’t ignore it. Every time it catches my glance it taunts me. Waiting. Wanting.

Digital lists are where tasks are easily forgotten for me. They become yet another junk drawer to hide the mess of an all too complicated and busy life. This is not to say they don’t have their time and place. I occasionally will switch to one on the rare occasions the paper is not enough to manage it all.

That said, I always switch back to pen and paper for such things as soon as I can. They keep me honest.

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I used to be afraid of posting here daily.

I was afraid what I have to say would not be good enough.
I was afraid that people would make fun of me.
I was afraid no one was reading anyway.
I was afraid I’d never be able to keep up.
I was afraid it was too hard.
I was afraid I would not find the time.
I was afraid I did not have enough ideas in me to write about.
I was afraid that I would miss a day (or two, or three) and let people — especially myself — down.
I was afraid no one would care — myself included — if I did.
I was afraid I would fail.

Interestingly, I still have all the same fears. The difference now is that I face each one and do it despite them.

Your free will donation of any amount helps to support a full-time independent writer in his daily battle against the fear. Thanks for reading!

What is truth anyway?

We all know it when we see it. At least we think we do. But what we often call truth is merely consensus. We should always be wary of confusing the two.

For instance, you can’t have an argument with someone who fundamentally believes that the sky is red. The reason they believe this is because the color that everyone else calls blue, they call red. No matter how much you argue with them, or show them examples, or find other people to back the fact that the sky is blue and not red, as long as they believe blue is red you can’t have a rational conversation about the color of the sky.

But here, you are not arguing about the truth (though you both likely believe you are). You are arguing about consensus. What is at stake? Who does it harm, really, if that lone outsider calls the sky red, or orange, or purple?

The truth is really that thing that you can’t deny. That thing for which, all names aside, there can be no disagreement. Let’s all work better at coming to agreement and consensus (or agree to disagree) around that which is, in fact, perception so that we can have more truthful discussion.

Similar |nazba|referrer|hsnyz
can be found easily. Special can’t. Same can be overlooked. Special can’t be ignored. Comparable is open to argument. Special can’t be denied. Special cant be easily copied or purchased or sold. It is rare by its very nature.

Find what it is about your work that makes what you offer special. Protect and invest heavily in that. Then, make sure it is the thing you lead with, what you demonstrate, and what you constantly work on strengthening, solidifying, and improving.

Because, once you know what makes you so special and are confident in your ability to execute it, you will never have to tell it to others. What makes you special will speak for itself.

I’m a writer. Writing is how I make this world better, friendlier, stronger place. If these words improved your day, please let me know by contributing here.

The answer to:

…is this all there is?

…is this all I am?

…is this all I can be?

Is always, “No“

As we ventured past the ticketing gate of Disney World, on our final night there, Beatrix turned around in her stroller and asked, “Can I see Mickey? I haven’t seen him yet.”

It was true. During our five day stay, we had seen every available Princess. We had seen a lot of the other characters. We had even seen Mickey’s girlfriend Minnie. But we had not yet seen the main mouse himself.

Our original mission for the evening was to see the illuminated parade and the multimedia fireworks extravaganza (trust me, this is the only way to describe it). It was clear that prime viewing spots were filling up fast. But, as doting parents to a lovely five year old, our primary mission was now changed by this simple request. We rushed to find a spot along the parade route and, with Bethany holding our place, Beatrix and I went off to the Mickey meet and greet.

The line was remarkably short. Only about a five minute wait. Other such previous characters had wait times far longer. Everyone must have been focused on the pending parade. We were whisked right in to the front of the line.

Her turn to meet Mickey came. She had an autograph book in which she had been collecting signatures of all of the characters she met. She handed it and a red Sharpie pen to him at which point he saw the cover. It was a picture of his girlfriend, Minnie Mouse. He acted out a blush and pointed to the wall where a portrait of Minnie was hanging. The cast member helping out in Mickey’s room explained to us that he had not seen her all day and missed her very much. He kissed the book cover, signed it, handed it back to Beatrix, then he posed with her while I busily snapped a few shots with my camera as was the now standard practice. Then, I gestured that I had gotten my shot at which point the posing was done. I put my camera away.

After that, something unexpected happened. Mickey got down on one knee and pointed at a button on Beatrix’s dress that indicated it was her birthday. He took her hand, kissed it, then grabbed the other and pulled her near, leaning his face in close to hers. She kissed him sweetly on the nose. They gave each other a nice long hug and he waved her off goodbye.

As we left, I was particularly touched by the sweetness of the moment. A thought passed through my mind. The thought that I wished I had caught that last bit with the camera.

But then, on second thought, I was glad that I hadn’t. I’m glad that I was fully present to witness the joy of the moment that made my little girl’s birthday so special. To see it and remember it through my eyes and not a camera’s lens. A photograph may be able to capture a moment. But, a photograph can never capture a memory.