Category: post

As of this writing, I’m 30 days in on my plan to publish here daily. It may not seem like much to anyone else but I’m proud of myself for keeping up with it no matter what. Trust me, there were plenty of obstacles in my way and convenient excuses I could have fallen back on to miss a day or two.

In this past month both Bethany (wife) and Beatrix (daughter) have been sick with pretty nasty virus/bugs. Beatrix has decided in the last few weeks that 5am is a perfectly good time to wake up Daddy and keep him up. This means my light-sleeping wife is also awakened too. My wife and I have been overwhelmed with starting a new business together and transitioning to it on top of our normal workloads… I could go on and on.

The bottom line is that is a minor miracle that I was able to publish most days. Some of those I had to fall back on things I had written long before. Many days, the fact that I write ahead is the only thing that made it possible. But, regardless, I have not yet missed a day. Which, for me, is something to celebrate.

Thank you to all of those who have showed up to read daily, which I understand is no easy task some days. If a writer is publishing daily they are, to some extent, asking you to make a choice to spend a few minutes reading versus a million other potentially more important ways that time can be spent. All I can do is to try my best to respect that and make the choice worth it.

Thank you to all who have seen fit to offer a free will donation to support the work. Thanks to those who have shared my writing with others. Thanks to those who have emailed or messaged me to offer advice, correction, or kind words. All of this helps so much.

In closing, here are just a few of the posts from the last months that I think stand out. Please check them out if you missed them:

• Happy Accidents

• Your Dream Job

• Don’t Wait For The Eulogy

• Warming Up

• Idea: The Amish Space (No Electronics Allowed)

• Choose Your Own Adventure

• No Limits

Onward and upward!

PR

Most of us have fixed routes. We are stuck in grooves and paths. From these we rarely stray.

I’m sure that path from home to work, or the store, or the gas station, or the park, or the cabin — the one you always take — was chosen for a good reason. It was the the fastest, or the most sensible, or the safest, or the most direct. So, now, you take it without even thinking about it. You often get to your destination without even remembering the drive. It is the way you go. Why? Because, it is the way you go.

Then, there are the paths you follow simply because they are set for you. You looked at the map and followed the directions. The arrow pointed that way down the trail. That was the way everyone else was going. You were just following the crowd. You take these ways because, well, that’s the way they told you to go.

Of those that visit Yellowstone National Park, for fun, over 80% never stray from the pavement. Almost 99% never stray from the path more than a quarter mile on either side of it. That means, there is a Yellowstone that only 1% ever see. It is waiting to be discovered.

I bet there are a dozen different ways for you to get from your home to anywhere you want to go. I bet you have never ventured more than two blocks on either direction on your path to work. I bet there are whole neighborhoods in your city or town that you have never passed through. I bet there is a bar, or a store, or a restaurant there that you have never been to. I bet there are interesting things to be found when you ignore the directions. I bet if you choose to go the opposite direction of the crowd, others will wonder why and be inspired to follow. I bet you will all see new things, things waiting to be discovered, if you take them.

If you got lost and found your way here, your free will donation of any amount will let me know it was worth the diversion from your regular path. Travel safely.

I have to fill it. It won’t get filled on its own. It’s my job to do the work and most days I’m just not sure I have it in me. I’m sure today is one of these days. These many days. This, despite the fact that my head is swimming with ideas. Dozens at any given moment.

My fear is perfectly represented here. The fear of the unknown. The fear of failure. Because I can’t even see the finished product of what this thing will be once filled with words and ideas. The hardest part of writing, of anything really, is starting. I just don’t know where to start. Then, even if I manage to start, will I know what finished looks like?

Sometimes, rarely, the page pops into my head. Completed. Finished. Before it is even started. I approach the blankness and type it and ship it and people love it and they let me know and I never reveal my secrets. The secret that it took me so little time or real effort. The secret that it almost never, ever, ever, works that way. That, most days, I spend hours completely paralyzed in front of the grave in which I’m sure my talent is destined to proceed me, long before it is time for my body and mind to follow.

I have to force myself to sit here and stare at it. To look into my fear and let it mock me with the possibility that it will beat me. That I won’t be able to start and it will remain perfectly fine. In its natural state. Blank. Therefore, I too will remain in my natural state. Afraid.

But, I know somewhere deep and primal, it is a matter of time and a test of will. That I can overcome my fear. That I have plenty to fill that empty space with. That it does not require some rare moment of clarity or enlightenment. That all it requires is the courage to write one word. Then, follow it with another. Pretty soon you have a sentence. Then, a paragraph. Then, soon enough, ideas will form. Those could turn into a letter. A post. An essay. Or, eventually, a book.

It starts right here. For me. For everyone. Every day. A hole we are required to face our fears to fill.

An empty space on the floor by my bed waiting to be filled with my first step. An empty pot waiting to be filled with my coffee. A spouse waiting to be filled with my devotion. A waking child waiting to be filled with my love. A page…

This was originally written for my now discontinued subscription newsletter. I’ve made the decision to take some of my favorites from there and put them here.

…Does not exist. It’s fiction. Fantasy. A flat out lie. Anyone who tries to sell you one, or convince you that they can produce one, is trying to hornswoggle you. Or, perhaps, it is better to simply agree that they all are perfect.

You see, an Old Fashioned is more an idea than an execution. This is what makes it my favorite cocktail to both make and enjoy elsewhere. To paraphrase the great 20th century philosopher Forrest Gump, it’s like life – you never know what you are going to get. Everywhere you order one it will be different. Sometimes only slightly, sometimes so drastically as to almost be considered another drink entirely.

There are no specific ingredients or hard measurements – only elements. These elements, combined with enough whimsy and panache to support the basic theory of what an Old Fashioned might be, consist of the following:

Spirits, Bitters, Water, and Sugar

That’s it. Any combination of the above may be called an Old Fashioned. Combine just about any of these and you can call it an Old Fashioned. In fact, it is long held that the very definition of what a cocktail is was derived from the description of these elements (see here: Old Fashioned – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia).

I recently ordered up an Old Fashioned at a hip and trendy restaurant here in town and here is what I got: Makers Mark Whiskey on top of raisins soaked in house made bitters and muddled at the bottom of the glass. Splash of tonic and diced apples for garnish.

It was an interesting take to be sure. That said, it was no more or less an Old Fashioned than the ones I make. All the ingredients were there. It was, therefore, perfect.

Now, I’ll describe how I make a perfect Old Fashioned. Try a couple; you’ll either agree with me or not care.

1. Grab a lo-ball glass, the unofficial official glass of the Old Fashioned. Its flat, wide bottom and straight sides make it the ideal palette for the artistry about to be performed.

2. Throw a couple of teaspoons of sugar in there. Nothing fancy. Just plain white sugar.

3. Sprinkle in some bitters in there. I use Angostura but any will do. You want enough to add flavor to the muddle (see below) but not so much that it begins the muddle without the next step.

4. Grab an orange. This will both stand in for water and be garnish. Cut an end off of the orange and squeeze just enough juice into the sugar and bitters so that you can muddle these together with a spoon. The resulting concoction should resemble quicksand. Thick, but not too thick. Runny, but not too runny.

5. Throw a few cubes of ice in the glass. How many depends on how strong you ultimately want your drink. Just a few if you like it nice and strong. Fill it up if you are a lightweight.

6. Now, grab some whiskey. Any whiskey is good whiskey. But don’t use stuff that is too good. That stuff is for drinking straight. Anything else will be just fine. Cheap blended Canadian? Great! Expensive craft distilled Rye? Great! Just make sure it is whiskey. Not Brandy. Never Brandy… Pour the Whiskey in the glass, about a finger from the top.

7. Cut off a slice of the orange and throw it in the glass on top. Also put some Maraschino cherries in there, two or three. Use a spoon so you get some of the cherry syrup in with those too.

8. Mix carefully. You want to combine all of these flavors without spilling a single drop over the lip of the glass. Such waste of anything this amazing is a crime and sin.

There you have it, Drink one of these regularly and you can tackle (or forget) almost any problem you might face.

Of course, what I describe above is nothing more than my take on it. Adjust it, change it, no matter. As long as the four elements are there, you will have made the best Old Fashioned you have ever had. Until the next one.

This was originally written for a far past issue of the Read & Trust Newsletter (now Magazine). I thought encouragement to enjoy a nice drink on a Sunday was reason enough to share it here.

Who’s your biggest fan? Do you know? Is it you? Are you your own biggest fan? If not, why not? Perhaps, you should be.

My bet is, you are already your own harshest critic (I know I am). You are perfectly willing to play the role of your own devil on your own shoulder. A never ending loop of negativity when things go wrong or you mess up. You have no problem taking the lead in recognizing your failures and doubts.

Why not, then, make it just as easy to give yourself a pat on the back for the jobs well done?

Not in a self-centered and egotistical way, mind you. I’m not talking about any sort of grandiose illusions here. I’m simply saying that you should be ready and willing to take a step back and recognize and take note of work you feel proud of. And, to graciously and humbly accept, when others recognize it as well.

And, if there is a bone fide reason for your self-criticism, then let your inner fan motivate you to do better next time.

Personally, I keep a “yay me” file — a plain text document named “yayme.txt”. A love letter, of sorts, to myself. Whenever I do something I’m proud of, I write it in this file. Whenever someone has given me a standout complement, I write that in this file too. If a reader sends me a nice email letting me know I’m appreciated, here’s where it goes.

Whenever, I’m feeling the inner critic begin to rear it’s ugly head, I open up this file to find my biggest fan reminding me of how much I have accomplished and cheering me on to the next victory.

Your free will donation of any amount helps to support a full-time independent writer. I also note it in my Yay Me file. Thanks for reading!

Stop raising bars. Stop pushing envelopes. Stop stretching limits.

Because, you see, here’s the problem…

Whenever you raise a bar, you create one to be raised.

Whenever you push an envelope, you believe one exists to be pushed.

Whenever you stretch a limit, you acknowledge that one is there.

What if there are no limits to stretch?

What if there are no envelopes to push?

What if there is no bar to raise?

If the bar was real how could you raise it?

If the envelope was there how could you stretch it?

If there was a limit, how did you push pass it?

Perhaps, the fact that you were able to raise, push, or stretch is proof that these things were not there in the first place?

What if you lived a life where these things did not exist? What you that look like? What would that feel like?

Wanna find out? It’s easy.

Live your life like there are no limits and no one will be able to stop you. There will be nothing to hold you back and nothing to push against. There will be no way for anyone to stand in.

The only limits are the ones we create. So, stop creating them.

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.

Think about a lightbulb. Soft, white, diffused light. It speeds in all directions, illuminating the room. Unfocused.

Now, place a mirrored cup around that same light, point the cup’s opening at a specific point, and now you have a spotlight. Focused in one direction.

Now, start to constrain that opening. Shape it as a cone. You have a beam. A laser. A beam powerful enough to burn a hole in any object it is directed at. Extreme focus.

Same energy. Just shaped in different ways. And, once shaped, its strength, intention, and purpose is changed.

This is you. This is your time. This is your attention. This is your energy.

The same energy that you currently spread amongst the many tasks you are now doing, can be focused to put a real, deep, burning, hole right in the center of the one thing you should be doing.

I’m a full-time independent writer who is intensely focused on bringing you quality reading and ideas here daily. If you enjoy what you read here, please consider a free will donation of any amount.

Stop. Just for a second. Don’t think about anything you have to do next. Take a moment to realize and be present, fully, in this moment. Look around you and admire it. Check in with each of your senses and note what they are feeling. Realize that it is the only time that really exists. Every moment that passes is gone. Every one to come has yet to occur. That coming moment (and the one after it and the one after that) are not guaranteed. That is what makes this one so special. This is why we should recognize and appreciate it’s uniqueness.

But here’s the paradox. Each one of the moments before was equally unique. And we were led to it by the moment before that one. This moment is a consequence of the choices we made in all of the last. And no matter how sure you were those choices would lead you here, they just as easily could have led you to a sudden, unexpected, death.

The fact is that from the moment your warm feet hit the cold floor this morning you have ventured into a vast unknown. Anything could have happened. Yet you ventured forth anyway. You took that next step. And every step was a new opportunity to set your path. Every breath a subconscious decision to keep breathing. Every action a choice to do what you have always done or make a change. And, in reality, you had no real knowledge or control of any of it.

So, let’s take some time to celebrate that. Living life takes strength and courage and fearlessness and boldness to face such choices. Perhaps dozens big and small, each moment. Some smart, some crazy, some daring, some predictable. Yet none, do we know for certain, will lead to another. We have only hope that it will, so we choose to keep on despite that fact.

This moment is the only one we have to make the choices that guide the next, when and if it comes. In this moment we can decide to change our life. Or, we can decide to keep it just as it is. But we get to choose. In this moment, and only this moment, we get to choose our own adventure.

Writing is how I choose to contribute to life’s great adventure. If these words help you make the next best choice, please let me know by contributing here.

This old notebook contains…

Design ideas and draft copy for a previous version of this site. (07.18.2005)

Notes from a David Allen online seminar titled Knowledge Work Athletics (08.18.2005)and the GTD Roadmap seminar I attended. (09.22.2005)

Notes from Ruth Haden’s Money for Couples class Bethany and I took prior to getting married. (02.06.2006)

A list of movies I wanted to see. Most marked as completed.

The first ever outline of my Dash/Plus notation system. (05.23.2006)

Journal entries from around the time of our wedding. (06.2006)

Then from the days we spent in the hospital by Bethany’s mother’s side as she lost her battle with colon cancer. (12.25.2006)

Then from our honeymoon to Spain. (02.23.2007)

Fortunes from fortune cookies that I found interesting. I would tape them in and date them. (06.01.2007 is the first of several)

The following haiku (10.12.2007):

Dark in the morning.
Dark at night when going home.
Work in winter sucks.

Beatrix’s arrival. Five pounds, seven ounces, eighteen inches. (02.09.2008)

Lots of fountain pen tests. (03.12.2008)

The desire to cultivate more simplicity in my life and belongings. (08.21.2008)

As well as countless dreams and schemes and lists and plans and diagrams and ideas and…

This is a snapshot of my life. The moments I felt important to capture at the time. So that every now and again I could look back and marvel at it all. That it has brought me to this empty page. To reflect before the next moment begins to write a new entry in another book.

I’m a full-time independent writer who works hard to bring you quality reading and ideas here daily. If you enjoy what you read here, please consider a free will donation of any amount.