The Benefits of The Small, Achievable Daily Goal

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Move, just a little. That can be enough.

Any move, forward or backward, in any measurable increment, is progress. An opportunity to learn, to gain perspective, to gather courage. And a lifetime of slow progress, or even a few months of it — despite or in defiance of the apparent mad rush of our daily lives — might be enough to promote real growth and change.

Or, to bring things down to the ground level, a little slow progress, today, has the capacity to build up momentum for tomorrow (and so on).

This is something I have learned, in recent years. As I’ve grown up and matured, as I’ve failed plenty and have gained just a few victories.

I wrote a book of fiction this year, in the middle of completing my first feature film. I did it one day, and often only a few hundred words, at a time. If you had told me ten years ago that those would be the conditions under which The First Book would be written — I wouldn’t have believed it.

But I might have smirked a little, in considering the prospect. It’s a subtly bad-ass move. The picture about provides a snap-shot of how I did it. At a certain point, fear had set in, and I was afraid of stopping halfway through the first draft. That would have hurt, so I set small daily goals, to pursue each morning. And it worked.

I believe that the real heavy work behind any big thing, whether a book or a script or a shot list, or an engineering problem or a code problem — it gets done on the peripheries of life and consideration. We think for a while, softly in increments, or even with speed and heat, but ultimately we tire or become frustrated and must turn away. Then, suddenly, something clicks out of nowhere and we move forward in a leap.

This is the way it goes, much of the time. And yet it becomes difficult to depend only on such leaps, of inspiration or intuition, to sustain progress. Too much pressure is put on something outside our control, if not our sphere of influence, and we become constricted.

This is why and how small steps help. It’s why focus, and simplicity, and then deliberate unfocused time, spent without a clear purpose other than enjoyment or physical engagement, lead to  sudden, significant, measurable progress over time.

It takes a degree of faith, to trust such a process, and not wring it or ourselves dry.

In addition, many that don’t have the patience or the talent for it spend much of their time leeching off those that do, intent on convincing the talented how indispensable they themselves are…in their steady blandness.

It’s a much less heavy burden, to proceed at a monotone, than to subject oneself to the rises and falls of creative productivity. There’s some utility in it, perhaps, but not much of that faith, upon which the real success of any one enterprise often rests.

To me, this reproves the proper and natural order of the creative process, within the macro as well as the micro. Keep the creativity, the calling, in first position.

Remain deliberate, and stolid in such deliberation, until all the answers that are going to come are given in the quiet moments of inspiration, themselves providing color and depth to the daily grunt work completed by yourself and others in pursuit of truth. This is all we can do.

No amount of extra magic exists. It is that simple, and that difficult. The rest of it comes second, is so much filler (which can be dispensed with) or distraction (which can be handled by others).

I do believe that, if we march on, we’ll eventually get somewhere. Until the time comes to get up and do it again.

11903868_10102022863132862_3363202786901023781_n-1My name is Michael. I am a Writer and Filmmaker of hopeful stories for complex people. Lately, I have been sharing some reflections and stories every morning. Once per month, I send a special note to those on my email list. They get exclusive stories and advanced (sometimes free) access to my work. You can join this exclusive group here. Thanks for reading.

How To Carry a Fresh Mindset Through The Day (and Week)

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I was able to get up early this morning. It’s quiet.

There’s plenty of sound — people are waking up, all around me — but in comparison to what will come later what I am hearing now is really only the beginning of sound.

A day is starting. A work day. So far, it is clean and un-ruined. Soon, new sounds will come, outside in the world and inside our heads.

I woke up too late. That horn is so loud. I don’t want to do it today. I can’t do it today. The train is late. Fuck this train. Look at that cute baby. Look at that old woman, eating her breakfast on the go.

There’s a union guy. Look at his clothes. Real hard work dirtied up those clothes.

There are two people kissing. There’s love in the world. Two people arguing — fear and hate.

We have a choice, much of the time, to start fresh in the moment — I think. I try to do this. It’s helped me, to turn away from locking into any one mode of certainty, which imbues any sound, colors any observations, with convenient evidence for either my continued victimhood or perpetual gloriousness.

It’s a fuck of a wild horse, the human brain. But the day, right now, in the dark or pre-dawn — it doesn’t care what I’m feeling, what I think. It merely proceeds as it always has, and always will, for a long time yet to come.

My intention for this day is to appreciate each moment, to avoid judging any as good or bad, to accept what comes, and to allow myself some leniency for any “failure” in this regard. If the day is likely to remain fundamentally the same no matter how we might impact it, no matter what might happen, I can allow myself to react according to my nature, but I don’t need to stay in reaction. I can seek my connection with this nature, and go no further and be content with this.

So, I retract my earlier words. This earliest part of the day is not clean and un-ruined compared to what else might come, it is my perspective that naturally and understandably shifts and vacillates as time goes on.

Sleep just happens to often provide a natural reset, and in reflecting here now I realize that I am fresh with the benefits of that reset. There’s something to be said for the effects of noise, and the added complications that come when more and more people — with their own wants, needs, and reactions — are brought into the mix of the day. It’s not meant to be a completely ordered, rational process.

This is life. Like each day, it continues on with or without my participation and acceptance. In this light, it seems to make more sense to meet what comes with openness and a willingness to show patience.

11903868_10102022863132862_3363202786901023781_n-1My name is Michael. I am a Writer and Filmmaker of hopeful stories for complex people. Lately, I have been sharing some reflections and stories every morning. Once per month, I send a special note to those on my email list. They get exclusive stories and advanced (sometimes free) access to my work. You can join this exclusive group here. Thanks for reading.

Thoughts on Body Heat and Machine Dependency

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Every year, when the fall chill sets in but it’s not yet cold enough for the heat to turn on, we humans in this apartment are swarmed by The Pets. I know they are mostly using us for body heat, but it’s hard not to conflate the reaction with love.

The sharing of body heat is intimate, regardless.

Yesterday, I remarked to my wife that I have come to believe that her love for me increases by about 20% in the fall. She stand, sits closer to me, holds me a little longer when we embrace.

We’re all awakened into a sort of greater, more primal intimacy, when the weather turns — aren’t we? There’s a shift in body language, an uptick, a sharpening of the stride now that the heat of summer has passed. There’s a vitality to it.

In similar fashion, it has occurred to me over time — that I have initiated production of every one of my films in the fall. Every last one of them.

Something thrives in me, at this time of the year. I’m sure it also coincides with how life and business at large tends to pick up, in the months leading up to the holidays and to year-end financial reporting deadlines — but for the sake of beauty let’s stick to a discussion of nature for the moment.

I got a new phone yesterday. The process took two and a half hours. Granted, I switched carriers. Still, it was a long time. Short of actual labor, or watching a movie — I don’t do anything for over two hours straight. Maybe that’s sad, but I think it also might be typical.

With this in mind, at one point during the process, while in conversation with the sales associate and my wife, I only semi-jokingly wondered aloud whether, at this point, we were working for the machines — versus the other way around.

I know I struggle with device-addiction. It’s a real issue, and one exacerbated by big businesses constantly battling for the newest most precious commodity after our labor — as much of our divided attention that they can win, and leverage to their interests.

That’s not entirely a judgement. The battling is necessary, to a point.

But these wars are often bloodless, not in terms of a lack of victimhood (there are certainly victims), but rather the exact primal terms that my dog and cat, and some ancient part of you and me, instinctually turn to and understand.

I worry about this erosion of warmth. This overcrowding of the human by the machine. Science fiction has given us plenty of examples of the singularity apocalypse. They’re big and dramatic, and effective for all their melodrama and loudness.

But the actuality of a loss of humanity is often much less glamorous, slower and more sad. This is what we have to fear, I think. It helps me to remember why I tether myself to my phone — to help keep me productive, moving forward in my vision, and entertained (in moderation) in the meantime.

It also helps to take a moment to allow my animals to crawl over me, despite the fact that the laptop is open and ready. To linger in my wife’s arms as we express love and combat the incremental chill of life — together.

 

11903868_10102022863132862_3363202786901023781_n-1My name is Michael. I am a Writer and Filmmaker of hopeful stories for complex people. Lately, I have been sharing some reflections and stories every morning. Once per month, I send a special note to those on my email list. They get exclusive stories and advanced (sometimes free) access to my work. You can join this exclusive group here. Thanks for reading.

Answer The Call, Quiet The Demons

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It’s a few minutes shy of 7AM, on a Saturday, as a write this — and I hate you.

Sorry. I don’t hate you.

I love you.

I feel as if I might be sending mixed signals.

Yesterday concluded my experiment of writing here everyday for a month. Today marks the start of a new month. Technically, I am not committed to posting today. But here I am.

The truth is that I’ve been having too much fun. The exercise has grounded me, which in retrospect was probably part of the intention all the long. Before I started it, I was thrashing a little.

Too tired to jump into another film so soon. Too scared still to begin rewriting the book of fiction I finished earlier this year.

But now? Today? I have the will to begin, or at least to begin considering, these bigger things. The daily practice of doing just a little, at the earliest point if the day, and doing it wholeheartedly and without complication or expectation — it’s been instructive.

Daily practice. That’s what I’ve been turning over, in my head. What do I need to do, today, right now, to answer the call and quiet the demons?

Earlier this morning, I found myself standing in the hallway outside my bedroom. I had woken up a few minutes ago, had gotten up for a nice strong morning pee. I looked at my bed, and my wife sleeping soundly in it, the soft dim light of a clouded morning just barely illuminating the edges of everything in the room.

I set a timer on my phone that would wake me up after forty-five more minutes of sleep — if I went back to bed.

But I didn’t go back to bed. I thought about whether it was what I wanted. It wasn’t. Then I considered how I might physically feel, having woken up and then gone back to sleep. I know that feeling. Wet cotton in the temples.

I didn’t want it.

I’m excited to be here. I’m excited for today. So, here I am showing up and owning that excitement. That I want.

11903868_10102022863132862_3363202786901023781_n-1My name is Michael. I am a Writer and Filmmaker of hopeful stories for complex people. Lately, I have been sharing some reflections and stories every morning. Once per month, I send a special note to those on my email list. They get exclusive stories and advanced (sometimes free) access to my work. You can join this exclusive group here. Thanks for reading.

Doing It.

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I’m feeling a bit run-down so I’m going to keep things short for today. I’ve now written here every day this month. It feels good. I might keep it up. Full list of posts below.

Prior to this experiment, on most weeks, I would write about four or five times per week. That’s a pretty good average — but this feels better.

At first, though I did initially need a break from screenwriting, it worried me — that I was directing energy towards these essays (and I use that term loosely) instead of the script of the day.

But then I adjusted, and soon I was doing both. We make time for what’s important, if and when we’re able to gather the courage and keep up the momentum needed to turn daily to what’s important.

It’s not always easy, though. That’s what I’ve liked about this practice.

By getting up early, and writing and publishing first thing, I accomplish something important. I communicate with those following this site and my work. I get some thoughts out of my head. Some of those thoughts lead to new thoughts.

It’s work, but it’s work I love.

I don’t love it every day. On some day’s, it’s tough. On others, it’s fun(ny).

This came up in my talk with Simon Taufique on Coffee With Creatives, and with other guests as well — it’s about the doing. The doing is what we love. Do strategy, forethought, planning have their places? Yes. But it’s about that balance.

We are happiest and most effective when the doing comes first. And, yes, that can be applied to love and sex as well. Thanks for reading!

This is part thirty of a thirty day trial, during which I am writing and publishing a post every day. No refunds. Comments welcome and encouraged!

Day 01: Struggles and Wonders and Dying in  Chair

Day 02: Fear, Panic, Identity and Anti-Focus

Day 03: Purple Sky of Towering Clouds Over a Far-off City

Day 04: Circle Up and Laugh

Day 05: On The Future of Labor

Day 06: Appreciating Difficulty, Harnessing its Momentum

Day 07: The Word for World is Earth

Day 08: It’s About The Dreaming, Not The Dream

Day 09: Moments of Presence: CWC Interview (Writer Laura Goode)

Day 10: Simmering Little Wrath of The Annoyed Man

Day 11: Tragedy, Remembrance and Wonder

Day 12: A New Light Borrowed or Discovered

Day 13: Productivity Tips for Anyone Prone to Overwhelm (Like Me)

Day 14: Legitimately Va-goo

Day 15: Sex-Bleating and Cat Vomit

Day 16: The Waiting Place

Day 17: 6 Ways to Bring Balance to the (Artistic) Force

Day 18: How to Decide What to Make Next

Day 19: Take Faith for Yourself, Give Them Skepticism

Day 20: All I Need Is My Lamp and My Dog!

Day 21: Why I’m Writing and Publishing, First Thing Every Morning

Day 22: The Routine Dance: Rewards and Perils

Day 23: How to Be Better: Perspective and Self-Compassion

Day 24: Still The Finger, Silence The Vlog

Day 25: A Light Chill Wind in Early Fall

Day 26: The Case for An Open Heart

Day 27: How Can I Help? CWC Interview (Composer/Producer Simon Taufique)

Day 28: The Dangers of “The Project Wheel”

Day 29: Why It’s Essential to MOVE YOUR DAMN BUS

Why It’s Essential To MOVE YOUR DAMN BUS!

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I’m getting a late start this morning, because I couldn’t keep my dog off my lap long enough to replace her with my computer. This task literally took five minutes. I told her to get down. She would get down. Then she would jump back up.

The truth is, though, I cherish my morning pup time. I might have let her hang out for some snuggles, first. That’s between us.

I can’t tell you how different it feels to wake up in the morning knowing that there’s an unreasonably happy furry thing waiting for you to roll out of bed. My wife could probably tell you. Except I don’t usually wake up that happy.

 

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So, tomorrow is the last day of #30DaysBlogging. A list of earlier posts is copied below.

It’s been fun. To be honest, it’s also been a bit difficult. I started strong. There were some other peaks, whether of energy or verve, but I’ve been a bit tired. I want to be careful of that.

I don’t have anything explicit to reflect upon this morning (clearly). It’s cold, which is fine. That’s why the dog is on top of me. I slept last night. There are an awful lot of dirty dishes in the sink, spilling over onto the kitchen counter. A few minutes ago, I fantasized about tossing a few grenades in there — solving the problem for good.

I still might do that. Except it would cut me off from the fridge, and my Diet Cream Soda. I’ll need that later.

Right now, there’s a traffic jam outside my window. People are’t happy about it. I think a bus is waiting for a kid. The reason for this guess — a woman has been leaning on her horn and shouting: “MOVE YOUR DAMN BUS! MOVE YOUR DAMN BUS! MOOOVE YOUR DAMN BUS.”

I don’t know, lady. Sometimes there is a bus. You’re only making it worse for everyone else.

But maybe she’s late for work. Or maybe she’s an angel in disguise, playing chess against a sly demon opponent, and they’re both using the vehicles of Brooklyn as pieces in their cosmic game. Maybe her opponent has been taking a long time. Has his finger on that bus. Keeps rolling it back and forth, in the same spot.

I don’t know. My morning tea is just starting to hit me. I don’t even know why you’re still here. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice, but you can go. We’re just fooling around this morning.

I wish I had thought to record that woman. I could have set her as the tone for reminders in my phone: “MOVE YOUR DAMN BUS!”

Indeed.

Tomorrow is Friday. MOVE YOUR DAMN BUS, WORKWEEK.

This is part twenty-nine of a thirty day trial, during which I am writing and publishing a post every day. No refunds. Comments welcome and encouraged!

Day 01: Struggles and Wonders and Dying in  Chair

Day 02: Fear, Panic, Identity and Anti-Focus

Day 03: Purple Sky of Towering Clouds Over a Far-off City

Day 04: Circle Up and Laugh

Day 05: On The Future of Labor

Day 06: Appreciating Difficulty, Harnessing its Momentum

Day 07: The Word for World is Earth

Day 08: It’s About The Dreaming, Not The Dream

Day 09: Moments of Presence: CWC Interview (Writer Laura Goode)

Day 10: Simmering Little Wrath of The Annoyed Man

Day 11: Tragedy, Remembrance and Wonder

Day 12: A New Light Borrowed or Discovered

Day 13: Productivity Tips for Anyone Prone to Overwhelm (Like Me)

Day 14: Legitimately Va-goo

Day 15: Sex-Bleating and Cat Vomit

Day 16: The Waiting Place

Day 17: 6 Ways to Bring Balance to the (Artistic) Force

Day 18: How to Decide What to Make Next

Day 19: Take Faith for Yourself, Give Them Skepticism

Day 20: All I Need Is My Lamp and My Dog!

Day 21: Why I’m Writing and Publishing, First Thing Every Morning

Day 22: The Routine Dance: Rewards and Perils

Day 23: How to Be Better: Perspective and Self-Compassion

Day 24: Still The Finger, Silence The Vlog

Day 25: A Light Chill Wind in Early Fall

Day 26: The Case for An Open Heart

Day 27: How Can I Help? CWC Interview (Composer/Producer Simon Taufique)

Day 28: The Dangers of “The Project Wheel”

A Light Chill Wind in Early Fall

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It’s nice to get the windows open. To feel a touch of chill in the air.

I like the cold. I find it bracing. I like the change of season.

I’d miss it, I think, if I lived somewhere with less-pronounced changes of season. There’s something to be said for environmental shifts, whether natural-only or when they occur when we go to other places.

Our worlds can get too small, without interruptions to our everyday observations and routines.

Something as simple as the reminder, from the chill air, that change is coming, that time and the spin of this planet continue on, outside our influence — it can be humbling. Comforting.

Nothing is permanent. The bad or the good. If and when we find ourselves enjoying more good than bad in our lives — even down to the basics of food, shelter, community, and wifi — it becomes helpful, I think, to take a moment to express gratitude.

Even if we do that privately. Quietly. Perhaps it’s even more effective when we do it in this way.

I’m having a nice weekend. The weather has been beautiful, I’ve kept good company, some creative work is brewing. I’m enjoying time with my wife and my dog (and my lamp). The cat is around, too.

It helps to remind myself why I’m here — in this space, sharing with you. It can get tricky, deciding to publish every day. If I publish but for the wrong reasons — for attention, to get it over with — then the whole point of the exercise is nullified. There’s no vulnerability and no connection.

So, instead, I try to just let come what may.

This can get difficult.

There’s a lot that goes on, every day, that saddens and upsets me. But I have learned to wait before reacting. To do what I can, where I am, rather than burn energy on anger only. I can only take care of what’s in front of me, to the best of my ability, each day — and in the process do what I can to help others when and as I am able.

I have spent enough of my life on recycled outrage. There are other, more effective responses available to the injustices of the day.

For me, much of the time, this means providing some food for thought. Some intellectual or spiritual conversation. A new or different or revisited perspective — advocated. I’m learning and accepting this fact, more and more, with each passing day.

To be honest, it’s an honor to be able to do it.

Perhaps it might seem a small task to some, but it feels good — and right — to me, to publicly converse, and to listen.

I feel human here. It often becomes hard to continue to feel human out there, not in the world at large necessarily, but in the society we’ve built that has commoditized the human spirit. Yoked it to so many exploits and outcomes that are ultimately, effectively, insignificant.

On many days, especially here in this city, it seems like the greatest madness.

But there’s beauty to it, too. There are the basics, that are never lost to us. Such as a light chill wind in early fall. This is what I where I want to turn my attention, and my exploits. To protecting and advocating for the small, poetic moments that make life what it is.

This is part twenty-five of a thirty day trial, during which I am writing and publishing a post every day. No refunds. Comments welcome and encouraged!

Day 01: Struggles and Wonders and Dying in  Chair

Day 02: Fear, Panic, Identity and Anti-Focus

Day 03: Purple Sky of Towering Clouds Over a Far-off City

Day 04: Circle Up and Laugh

Day 05: On The Future of Labor

Day 06: Appreciating Difficulty, Harnessing its Momentum

Day 07: The Word for World is Earth

Day 08: It’s About The Dreaming, Not The Dream

Day 09: Moments of Presence: CWC Interview (Writer Laura Goode)

Day 10: Simmering Little Wrath of The Annoyed Man

Day 11: Tragedy, Remembrance and Wonder

Day 12: A New Light Borrowed or Discovered

Day 13: Productivity Tips for Anyone Prone to Overwhelm (Like Me)

Day 14: Legitimately Va-goo

Day 15: Sex-Bleating and Cat Vomit

Day 16: The Waiting Place

Day 17: 6 Ways to Bring Balance to the (Artistic) Force

Day 18: How to Decide What to Make Next

Day 19: Take Faith for Yourself, Give Them Skepticism

Day 20: All I Need Is My Lamp and My Dog!

Day 21: Why I’m Writing and Publishing, First Thing Every Morning

Day 22: The Routine Dance: Rewards and Perils

Day 23: How to Be Better: Perspective and Self-Compassion

Day 24: Still The Finger, Silence The Vlog

 

How To Be Better: Perspective and Self-Compassion

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I continue to think about and reflect upon balance.

It’s a tricky dance, keeping forward progress, while also respecting the creative process — all in the midst of managing daily life. We’re all called upon to do it, though, aren’t we?

Grow and thrive. Be better. Pursue happiness.

But it’s not that simple, most of the time, is it?

If I have learned anything, it has been to do less. To listen more. Still, I know it’s a hard thing to do. I have a lot of respect for everyone trying to understand or pursue something outside the everyday tasks of what we “must” do, everyone intent on personal growth and exploration. It takes courage. It takes extra work and focus.

And I admire those able to simplify. Especially in a city like New York, where stimulus is a fact of life for most hours of the day — if not immediately and temptingly accessible at any hour via subway — it’s a tall order.

Along the way of seeking balance, it has occurred to me (again) that I have been very hard on myself at points. That I have pushed myself too hard, too desperately, for too long. This observation, as regular readers might note, is nothing new.

The self-compassion I have been feeling lately, however, is new.

Caught up in the rush and the madness of life, not to mention the snares of the past, it can become easy to forget that we all deserve the opportunity to grow, thrive and be happy. It is not our fault when the circumstance of life or our social structures fail to live up to or follow up on the promises of these things.

But it does become our responsibility, to ourselves, to shift perspective as best we can, and do what little we can, day by day, to give ourselves and others the chance to…be better. To feel better.

Not for accolades. Not for attention. But for the chance to approach balance and feel serene, the opportunity to throw off regret and to be satisfied with the gift of living. So I grieve for a self less able to see that he deserved gentler modes of conduct, and I try today to provide and seek out new support.

We’re worth the effort — all of us. It’s a big thing to do, to show up and say: “I deserve better”. It’s a less obvious response to realize that we already are enough, and that it’s our perspective, and what we do from that point, that might need to change. That’s the real hard work.

Have a great weekend. If I may — do one small nice thing for yourself this weekend. There will be a quiz.

This is part twenty-three of a thirty day trial, during which I am writing and publishing a post every day. No refunds. Comments welcome and encouraged!

Day 01: Struggles and Wonders and Dying in  Chair

Day 02: Fear, Panic, Identity and Anti-Focus

Day 03: Purple Sky of Towering Clouds Over a Far-off City

Day 04: Circle Up and Laugh

Day 05: On The Future of Labor

Day 06: Appreciating Difficulty, Harnessing its Momentum

Day 07: The Word for World is Earth

Day 08: It’s About The Dreaming, Not The Dream

Day 09: Moments of Presence: CWC Interview (Writer Laura Goode)

Day 10: Simmering Little Wrath of The Annoyed Man

Day 11: Tragedy, Remembrance and Wonder

Day 12: A New Light Borrowed or Discovered

Day 13: Productivity Tips for Anyone Prone to Overwhelm (Like Me)

Day 14: Legitimately Va-goo

Day 15: Sex-Bleating and Cat Vomit

Day 16: The Waiting Place

Day 17: 6 Ways to Bring Balance to the (Artistic) Force

Day 18: How to Decide What to Make Next

Day 19: Take Faith for Yourself, Give Them Skepticism

Day 20: All I Need Is My Lamp and My Dog!

Day 21: Why I’m Writing and Publishing, First Thing Every Morning

Day 22: The Routine Dance: Rewards and Perils

The Routine Dance: Rewards and Perils

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I have come to enjoy and depend upon routine. This is not a bad thing — but I have learned to be careful with it. All dependencies can benefit from periodic inquiry, if not disruption, I think.

Right now, at this moment, I’m starting in on this post later in the morning that I otherwise usually have over the last three weeks. I overslept a bit. This annoyed me. I carried that annoyance through to this moment.

But I have to let it go.

Because I just “wasted” a few more minutes in paralysis — because conditions weren’t perfect. Or safely comfortable. I couldn’t get moving. There were false starts. Some dumb nervous blinking occurred.

It helps to turn the problem against itself. Here I am, admitting that routine can be dangerous — not only to productivity but to creativity.

The unhelpful reaction was when I started thinking. Now is not the time for thinking. I just made that point yesterday.

It’s a dance, isn’t it?

On the one hand, the routine of waking up early every day, and writing here, has made me happier, has benefitted readers (people have written in to me, I’m not making that up!) and has increased traffic to this site.

These are all clear benefits. But they aren’t the purpose of it all, are they?

The purpose is expression.

While the fact of publishing here and then sharing with you is nearly as crucial, there’s no way for it to be causally as important so long as each post depends on the creative impulse for its existence in the first place.

That is why I keep up on writing here. Why I produce the podcast. This is about championing creative expression — and conversation. Sometimes, I worry about getting too meta-textual. That seems a fair thing to worry about and protect against.

But I’m still creating, directly, during the day. It’s my hope that these posts, and each episode of Coffee With Creatives, helps you to more often do the same. An additional hope is that, together, we can share in the joys and the pains that come along the way.

And I’m not just talking to artists. Everyone is creative. Life is creative. I believe we could use a bit more creativity, a bit more spiritual verve, in our daily lives.

So, here we are. Routinely imperfect but showing up anyway.

This is part twenty-two of a thirty day trial, during which I am writing and publishing a post every day. No refunds. Comments welcome and encouraged!

Day 01: Struggles and Wonders and Dying in  Chair

Day 02: Fear, Panic, Identity and Anti-Focus

Day 03: Purple Sky of Towering Clouds Over a Far-off City

Day 04: Circle Up and Laugh

Day 05: On The Future of Labor

Day 06: Appreciating Difficulty, Harnessing its Momentum

Day 07: The Word for World is Earth

Day 08: It’s About The Dreaming, Not The Dream

Day 09: Moments of Presence: CWC Interview (Writer Laura Goode)

Day 10: Simmering Little Wrath of The Annoyed Man

Day 11: Tragedy, Remembrance and Wonder

Day 12: A New Light Borrowed or Discovered

Day 13: Productivity Tips for Anyone Prone to Overwhelm (Like Me)

Day 14: Legitimately Va-goo

Day 15: Sex-Bleating and Cat Vomit

Day 16: The Waiting Place

Day 17: 6 Ways to Bring Balance to the (Artistic) Force

Day 18: How to Decide What to Make Next

Day 19: Take Faith for Yourself, Give Them Skepticism

Day 20: All I Need Is My Lamp and My Dog!

Day 21: Why I’m Writing and Publishing, First Thing Every Morning

Why I’m Writing and Publishing, First Thing Every Morning

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I don’t have a lot of thoughts right now. This is one of the joys of writing so soon after waking up.

The sunrise, as I write this, is brilliant. My head is still in the fog of sleep. I’m sipping tea, now, so soon the brain will begin its mad rush.

But, for now, the quiet is peaceful.

Thank you for reading. Today is three straight weeks of daily posts.

So far, this is the most popular post. Then this one. Then, this one.

And while we’re thanking people, thanks to Mike Birbiglia, for the inspiration to write so immediately on the daily, to Shay Carl for the idea of publishing something every day for a month straight, and to Tim Ferriss for bringing both ideas to my attention via his kickass podcast.

I know I’ve said it before — but this is fun. I need some fun, right now, when it comes to my relationship to writing. The act of recording and sharing a daily morning reflection is uncomplicated. There’s a purity to it. I don’t have to worry about managing a narrative, or searching out characters.

I’m still doing these things, separately, later in the day. But there’s less pressure involved. My general writing responsibilities are similarly rendered less complicated, by the simple act of defanging the nagging question many writers face — “Will I Write Today?”.

There’s something to that, I think.

This is part twenty-one of a thirty day trial, during which I am writing and publishing a post every day. No refunds. Comments welcome and encouraged!

Day 01: Struggles and Wonders and Dying in  Chair

Day 02: Fear, Panic, Identity and Anti-Focus

Day 03: Purple Sky of Towering Clouds Over a Far-off City

Day 04: Circle Up and Laugh

Day 05: On The Future of Labor

Day 06: Appreciating Difficulty, Harnessing its Momentum

Day 07: The Word for World is Earth

Day 08: It’s About The Dreaming, Not The Dream

Day 09: Moments of Presence: CWC Interview (Writer Laura Goode)

Day 10: Simmering Little Wrath of The Annoyed Man

Day 11: Tragedy, Remembrance and Wonder

Day 12: A New Light Borrowed or Discovered

Day 13: Productivity Tips for Anyone Prone to Overwhelm (Like Me)

Day 14: Legitimately Va-goo

Day 15: Sex-Bleating and Cat Vomit

Day 16: The Waiting Place

Day 17: 6 Ways to Bring Balance to the (Artistic) Force

Day 18: How to Decide What to Make Next

Day 19: Take Faith for Yourself, Give Them Skepticism

Day 20: All I Need Is My Lamp and My Dog!