About a month to go

Julia and I are moving to Raleigh, North Carolina in about a month.

Of course, when you have a month to get ready to move from a house you have lived in for nearly 11 years, a house with a full basement and a family with a slight tendency toward accumulation of stuff, you need to stay busy with sorting (this goes with us, this is trash, this is...oh, look! What is this? I better spend an hour paging through this material which has had no importance to me at all for the last ten years!) and boxing for shipment or tossing into the trash/recycle/giveaway piles.

And, if you are the Hamricks, you take a two-week break right in the middle and drive 1350 miles to the cottage on the lake.

We have a perfectly reasonable explanation: there is work to be done in the house to make it ready for renting to some loving family who will take care of our home by making it their home for as long as they want. The work can happen more efficiently if we aren't in the way.

Any reasonable explanation for heading to the lake (Lake Michigan, really an inland sea) is one we accept and dutifully act to align with.

It means we need to be really productive between now and head-for-the-lake day, and we will need to be really productive when we get back, but we both know that the break will do us a world of good.

We invested a tremendous amount of energy in launching Choosing Easy World, Julia's new book which was released a month ago today and is doing very well (thanks for asking!), and to go straight from that project to the moving-prep project was looking a bit too much like not-easy to us.

So, we will do all we can do until it is time to leave for Michigan, take our break and enjoy it just as if every day there is one which offers us all that is nurturing, fulfilling, and refilling of the reservoirs of energy, then come home and pick up stakes.

It is an exciting time. Julia is going home, as she has lived the majority of her life in North Carolina, and I'm going to my ancestral home--I was born in Chapel Hill, but have lived 95% of my life elsewhere, most of it in Denver--where both my dad and mom's families of origin put down roots.

I've been a Denverite since I was junior-high age, and giving up the familiarity and comfortable feeling of a place I have called home for more than 40 years is worth it, but it is also scary. It is sad to be moving so far from my mom, too, but that's why God made Skype. My kids are already gallivanting the globe, so us living in NC is just another stop for them as they travel all over.

We are very lucky to have found the ideal place in Raleigh for us, and that's what prompted the move to take place now. Julia found the house, I said no--too much money--and she called the number anyway.

After instantly bonding during that phone call, she and the owner's son started working to figure out how to make it possible for us to rent his mom's home. They got it figured out well enough that I was able to get on board, so now we have a signed lease and a home in Raleigh! (as you can see from the not-great photo grabbed from the Google street-view images, we are in a grade A location [groaning and rolling of eyes okay])

The house is in a beautiful, tree-filled area which has no through traffic--the enclave has one way in, and you exit right back that same way--rural-feeling streets with no curb and gutter, just asphalt and grass, and a pretty little lake only a block from our place.

The house is bigger than our Denver place, although without a basement we won't be able to stash nearly as much stuff. This is a good thing, if adding to our current challenge a little.

This new chapter is one we have been anticipating for a long time, and now we are turning the page to see how the chapter starts. I know it will be filled with adventure, joy, thrills, and satisfaction in all ways possible. There will be opportunities to grow and chances to learn more of our own courage and determination. All in all, it will be one more chapter in the book we started writing about the middle of last century. Julia and I each wrote many chapters, and only since 1998 have we cowritten them. This means our shared chapters have an interesting flavor of new mixed with experienced, still learning about each other mixed with the "here I go again...how many times does this lesson need to revisit my life?" feelings which come with the stuff we find to be our companions. Maybe this chapter, we learn some of those life lessons and move on to the next level!

Julia hits the big time

We are now almost two weeks into the life of Choosing Easy World, Julia's book which details her own journey into the magical realm where we are designed to thrive.

On the way to this, the 13th day since publication, we are having media adventures!

Early on the morning of the 11th, Julia was on TV.


Later that same day, Julia gave a talk and signed copies of Choosing Easy World at the venerable and much-loved independent book store, the Tattered Cover. It is the single-most-famous indie between Chicago and San Francisco. If you are an author and want to sign in the best book store in Denver, you seek to sign there.

Here's the exterior of this, the third edition of Tattered Cover, located south of town.

Julia, holding a copy of Choosing Easy World, awaiting the appointed hour at which she will give her talk.

And, the line forms for folks who want her to sign their pristine new copies of Choosing Easy World.

As you can imagine, since we were at the TV studio before 7 a.m. and did not leave Tattered Cover until close to 9 p.m., followed by a small celebration at Indulge Wine Bar, it was a day we enjoyed to the hilt and one we were ready to close so we could move on to a good night's sleep.

First, though, we had one more impromptu Easy World adventure to experience.

As we drove home on a route different than the one I intended--the freeway on-ramp was closed, so we chose to drive up a city street instead of looking for another place to get on the fast track home--Julia noticed that there was a patrolman partly hidden by foliage on the side of the road. I noticed I was going faster than the posted 35 mph limit. As we passed him, we saw his lights come on, so I immediately pulled over.

He was from the county sheriff's office and was very polite and patient as we searched in the dark for our insurance card in the glove compartment. I'm good at getting those important documents into the little place, but not so good at removing old ones. So, we kept pulling out more and more pieces of paper, all expired.

The officer finally said, "Let's just go with this one which expired last year." He went back to his patrol car and did whatever it was he did. In the six or eight minutes he was in his car, Julia and I sat. She was invoking Easy World, and I was simply resigned to whatever was to come. In a way, it is Easy World, too, just without any rainbow. Allowing is a huge part of moving into Easy World.

When he came back to my side of the van, he said, "I'm going to let you off with a warning. All you need to do is take your proof of insurance to the county office, and they will dismiss this citation for not having it available for me. There is no fine, and there will be no points once you prove you have insurance."

We drove home with big grins on our faces.

At some point in a couple of weeks--the deputy mentioned that it might take that long for the citation to be available on their computer system--I will need to drive ten miles to the office and get the ticket dismissed, but that's small potatoes compared to the impact my mistake of going too fast could have had. I'm happy to run the errand when the time comes!

Oh...and I have cleaned out the glove box. Only current documents are stored there now!

Our Baby!

Sometimes, a baby is born who simply demands that you get out of the way before said baby steps on some part of you and makes you cry.

Then, after the baby has tromped through the house and gone outside by making a baby-shaped hole in the wall, you cry.

Julia and I celebrated our baby's first walk outside, admiring the hole in the wall, at about 9:30 last night.

Here is our first baby picture.

Allowing, allowing, allowing

Anyone who stops by here more than once a year is aware that my delightful and exquisitely beautiful wife, Julia Rogers Hamrick, finished writing her second book quite some time ago. Through the quiet auspices of the very reality matrix which is the subject of the book, we found an agent, and then a publisher, and both in record time and without drama or angst.

Tomorrow is the culmination of the long journey from "We're under contract!" to "Look! You can buy the book at that store, right there, that very store!!"

August 3, 2010 will be a date which will be deeply embedded in our memories forever.

Choosing Easy World.

It's not only a book title, it is being in the very heart of an action, of choosing. Easy World is our phrase for being in the zone, being in the flow, being your Self and shining your light full-on. Choosing Easy World is deciding, consciously, to go to that place where flow is normal and miracles are everyday occurrences.

That's the coolest part of what Julia discovered three years ago, when she heard Easy World whisper to her at 4 in the morning as she tossed and turned. We can consciously choose to be there!

It is a good juncture at which to mention that Julia makes no claim to having created this stunningly joyful and peaceful reality. She simply rediscovered it. It has existed forever. In fact, it is the very infrastructure which supported the Garden of Eden.

When the Garden was no longer available to men and women, it was not gone or lost. It was waiting patiently for us to return. In Julia's first book, she discussed exactly how we can do that.

Now, with Choosing Easy World, we are given the tools and techniques, simple ones anyone can use, to facilitate that return.

I'm happy to point out that you can still sneak a peek at the book. For a few more days, you can read the first three chapters for free by giving us your name and email address. If you want to sign up, get the free chapters, and remove yourself from our mailing list, we're fine with that! Just click the link which we include in every message we send which allows you to remove your info from our list. We will be sad, but we will get over it.

It's up to you now. You can choose Easy World, even doing so at no cost whatsoever, or you can choose to keep doing things the way you have been doing them. If that's been working for you, great! If not, give Easy World a shot.

Julia Rogers Hamrick interviewed by Káren Wallace

Check this out!

My good friend Káren Wallace, she of http://thecalmspace.com and my buddy from Joyful Jubilant Learning, sat with Julia in a virtual space filled with joy and laughter.

This is the resulting chat.

Enjoy!

Michele Woodward: I Am Not Superwoman

Michele Woodward has compiled a powerful and intelligent look at life, at happiness, and how the two are actually quite compatible if given the chance to work together. Her book, "I Am Not Superwoman: Further Essays on Happier Living" is a collection of 40 essays written over the past couple of years which originally appeared on her blog, Life Frameworks.

Right from an early essay in this book ("Mama Ain't Happy"), Michele emphasizes the importance of being real with yourself in order to enjoy the fullness life has to offer. And, she got me right away by mentioning  "...my fabulous guy readers" who she enlists to help the women they love. I read lots of stuff written purportedly for women--the writers are often more willing to be vulnerable and advise from a place of cooperation rather than the Mount of High Advice Most Professional which many guys come from--and I appreciate it when the writer acknowledges the few who are reading who are not women.

Michele gets it. She understands that, while it is seldom spoken of, we all aspire to a greatness which hides our faults. She espouses a different greatness, one which exalts our strengths while acknowledging our weaknesses. Not Superwoman or Superman, just the happiest, most-fulfilled "us" we can be, and we get there by doing lots of what we love to do.

Here's the thing: Michele's version of great is sustainable. Any attainments built on a false impression are not. Michele's concepts are life-fulfilling and energizing. Coming from an invented persona is depleting and depressing. Pretty clear choice!

She includes essays on the Important, the Mundane, and the mundane things which turn out to be vitally important. What I love about this collection are the many ways of connection which are offered the reader. Different people will discover their own "Aha!" moment in different places within the covers of the book.

For me, the essays which address the topic of getting unstuck--and there are half a dozen which touch on this to a greater or lesser degree--proved to be the most helpful.

Still, the overarching message, and what I wish to close my little review by focusing on, is that fear is not where we must stop, but a road marker we can note as we fly right past it. Love is the destination, the fuel for the vehicle, and the connecting bond with all those close to us.

When we learn to become aware of how fear is controlling our decisions, we can face the fear which underlies the made-up nonsense we pretend is our justification, walk toward it to see its true, scaredy-cat nature, and become enamored with Love as fear's replacement in our lives. When we start in a place filled with Love, our choices are easier, less complicated, more powerful in moving us forward, and we can provision a happy life for ourselves and for those we come into contact with.

And, while this is not something Michele directly addresses, when I become happier and more fulfilled, I provide unspoken permission for anyone who sees or knows me to do the same. This is how things get better for all of us: one happy person at a time, influencing others to reach for that state by letting go of fear and becoming Love.

I heartily recommend Michele's new book, and if you are not already reading her blog, check it out. I read it regularly.

Choosing Easy World

As we kick off the last two weeks preceding the launch of Julia Rogers Hamrick's new book, Choosing Easy World, we have created a contest which will result in some random entrant winning a $300 gift card. Lots of other prizes, too!

If you like to play on Facebook or Twitter, you can get additional entries in the contest by helping us get the word out.


Twitter, enter via this link -- http://wildfireapp.com/twitter/233/contests/46677 -- and then tweet using the special link which will be yours alone and is given to you on that page. When your tweeples enter, you get additional contest entries, too! 

Facebook: go to Julia's fan page (http://www.facebook.com/pages/Julia-Rogers-Hamrick/355243384767) and you can enter there. You can also invite your friends from the same entry page.

Come play with us!

Yes! We have a volunteer

A bit more than two years ago, I wrote in this space about a pansy, one we had not planted but which sprung up on its own. In fact, I made that essay one I pointed to in my email signature ever since.

If you are interested, feel free to visit that post. You will see why it is that I am so thrilled that, only yesterday, my wife discovered just under the protective branches of the big evergreen in our backyard another pansy volunteer.

This year, circumstances prevented us from putting out the half

dozen or more pots of pansies which we normally display in our yard from April through the beginning of the summer heat when the flowers give up and expire. Of course, this only made the volunteer that much more surprising to find.

The celebrated volunteer from two seasons ago was right up against the edge of the concrete patio, a spot which was very hot in the afternoon as it baked under the unrelenting Colorado sun. It survived, though, for weeks after its tame cousins in pots had gone.

The one we just found is also vulnerable to the sun, but not nearly to the extent the earlier one was. In fact, it would not surprise me if this volunteer makes it to August. It is partly sheltered by the lowest branches of the tree which it found itself under when it poked its head up.

All in all, it has a better situation than did the pansy two years ago. That doesn't change the lesson one bit. It's still, "Start where you are."

Jobs, skills, self-worth

Sitting with my dawn's-early-light coffee this morning, I had these thoughts about what one's work to do in the world might be, and how finding it is one of life's challenges.

Here's the thing: I have come to believe that happiness in this earthly existence has far less to do with how much stuff you accumulate or how famous you have become or how well-respected you are in your own community.

Don't get me wrong. I don't seek to slight those who are seeking one or more of those end results.

For me, though, it is all about fit, finding a place for one's passion, and a satisfaction which comes from work done well and for good purpose.

Fit? In a typical office environment--and I have worked in offices of one variety or another my entire adult life--there is a microculture which develops over time, becomes stable, and changes only at a pace barely noticeable by any individual. If you don't fit that culture, you won't be happy. It really is that simple.

We all have passions, those parts of our lives which give us the juice to get done all the other not-so-inspiring things most of us need to handle. Ideally, a job serves to allow that passion a place to come out and play. As is often said in lots of different ways, enjoying your work makes for a life which is unified. In other words, you don't have to cordon off work from the rest of your life if work is an expression of who you are and what you believe. Work isn't work if you love it.

It has taken a long time for me to appreciate it, but once our basic needs for food, clothing, and a safe, comfortable place to live have been met, the correlation between money and life satisfaction is weak and grows weaker as you move further from the basic life requirements.

Self-worth is about finding methods of expression which, at the end of the day, leave you spent and grinning. It's not about cashing a paycheck which would cause others to gasp.

Whenever someone asks me who I am, the first words out of my mouth are not about how I have made a living, but about the lives I have helped to create: my four daughters. It is a wonderful place to be, being the dad to four young women who are on the brink of their own great adventures. Heck, they have already had great adventures! It is for that reason that I look forward with great anticipation seeing their next foray into the wilds of the world.

For you who are reading this, I wish the happy smile at the end of your day. I wish you the joy of knowing someone so well that they can tell you how you are feeling before you know it yourself. I wish you the peace which comes of giving all of yourself to whatever it is you choose. Most of all, I wish you the benefit of loving who you are today. That's the magic portal to a life well-lived.

Argue as if you are right, listen as if you are wrong

My friend Dr Robert Sutton, a Professor of Management Science and Engineering at Stanford University, believes that we can get more done, collaborate more effectively, and be happier all at the same time if we apply this tenet in our interactions with others.

It's simple: when discussing something about which there is disagreement, make your own argument as cogently and strongly as you can. Then, when it is time to hear what the other person has to say, listen to them from the viewpoint that you are wrong, even before the person begins to speak.

Bob insists the idea was not his, but one he learned about from Paul Saffo and Karl Weick.

Saffo's version is, "Have strong opinions, weakly held." It is the shortest, yet most evocative, of the descriptions of the concept.

The obvious benefit in employing this technique is that both parties are open to movement from their opening positions in the discussion. That's the only way a positive outcome, one which is a true win/win, can emerge: a willingness to listen and to modify one's own thinking on a matter.

Dr Sutton has a new book coming out late this summer, Good Boss, Bad Boss, which is bound to only further enhance his reputation among the general public as a smart and common-sense-displaying guy. His last book, The No Asshole Rule, was a bestseller in several countries and the "best business book" winner at the Quill Awards in 2007. In it, he detailed the hazards a company invites when it allows jerks to remain, particularly at the executive level.

He has written a number of books with fellow Stanford prof Jeffrey Pfeffer in addition to his solo efforts. His blog, Work Matters, is a regular stopping point for me. Bob is insightful, yet not preachy. He is always open (just as he teaches) to hearing differing views. I find his determination to use evidence-based management techniques as the basis for his writing most refreshing. Pundits often spout without basis in fact as they grind their particular ax, and that's not Bob. When he says something which is out of the mainstream line of thinking, you can bet he has the research to back it up.

As you may have guessed by now, I heartily recommend all of the Sutton books to anyone who is in management, desires a career in management, or anticipates needing to know something about people (if one of those categories is not you, go back to your home planet).

When you go looking

I started out this morning much as I do every morning. It is crazy stupid "are you nuts??" early, and that means I can allow my inner wild-haired child to run free on the playground we call the internet.

After all, I can safely expect no phone calls from job leads at 4:30 a.m.

While I normally don't document these wanderings, today's were so interestingly rich and odd that I decided to clue you in on them.

I found an NPR article on the wacky tale of Einstein's brain postmortem. The dude has had almost as bizarre a trip after his death (or, his brain has) as he did while he was walking around on this big hairy ball of dirt and oily water.

In the article, we learn that the person who did the autopsy on Einstein's remains more than 50 years ago decided to keep the brain. It is not clear how he managed to do so, but he did.

Over the years, he allowed scientists slices of the brain--that was his mission, to promote the study of this brain which provided so much for us all--and we end up at the heart of the NPR article, which is the amazing discovery which came about, in part, because of a uniqueness in this particular brain which Marian Diamond of UC Berkeley found.

If what I have described is enough to entice you to read the NPR article, you will only be more enthused to learn there is a book which includes the description of a road trip in a rented Skylark with Einstein's brain as cargo, what was left of it stuffed in a Tupperware container.

Weird, huh?

A couple more in-the-moment, serendipitous twists and turns later, I arrived at a YouTube video which an enterprising person had first uploaded, then downloaded, then uploaded, then...well, the person continued cycling the video for 1000 round trips. As you can imagine, it ends up being quite deteriorated and distorted, but in a beautiful way. For those who are interested, the same person paused to retain the video at various stops along the path to 1000 journeys. I have not watched the earlier videos when the original was not nearly so distorted, but they are there if you decide to watch this one.

More tomorrow!

Colorado

I'm a North Carolina native, a Tar Heel through and through. Heck, I was even born on the campus of the University of North Carolina, the nation's oldest university. No, I was not born during its first few years of existence.

Colorado has been home for a long, long time, ever since my family moved here when I was a kid. Today, I'm going to show you one very good reason why I love it here.

This, my friends, is this morning's sky. It's only about 3% of it, but it all looks just like this as of this moment.

We have days like this a lot here. The tourist attraction folks (I don't mean the strange-looking people at the circus--I'm talking about the PR folks selling Colorado as a destination for vacationing) claim we get 300 days of sun a year. I don't know how accurate that is, as my wife and I suspect that five seconds of sunlight during an otherwise gloomy day may qualify for the Board of Tourism's list of 300 days.

It hardly matters. We get lots of sun, regardless of how you tally it up.

For a frame of reference, here is a second picture with the tops of a couple of trees visible in the bottom of the frame.As one's eye approaches the horizon, the blue lightens. You can see it in this picture. If you look straight up, and the first photo was taken almost straight up, you see the deep, deep blue of the sky when you are a mile above sea level. That first mile of atmosphere which you look through in Chapel Hill but which we are above here makes a big difference.

In North Carolina, the sky is Carolina blue. I love Carolina blue. Here in Denver, today in particular, you can see Colorado blue. There aren't many places in the country where you can see a sky so deeply colored, so entrancingly inviting to the eye. You can get lost in that blue.

Life, explained (4)

Part 1 is here.

Part 2 is here.

Part 3 is here.

When we left off, we had just begun to gain some ground in bossing around all these really big people. Now comes some serious miscommunication: they actually think they are in charge.

After a couple of years of this going on, we finally give up and let them keep their delusion of control. It's just not worth it to continue trying to straighten them out, as they clearly are too far from Home to remember.

As we begin to grow and learn more about this crazy game we have joined here on Earth, we become more and more like the giants. Over some years, we even begin to look more like them, growing larger and larger ourselves.

For many of us, there comes a time in our lives when we decide it would be fun to be the giants in the room which belongs to a little tiny new one. So, we get together with another person and create the Earth suit which another Spirit comes to live within.

This is a miraculous time, both because we are reminded of when we were so little and because we now have a great responsibility and a constant source of amazement living in our own homes.

We spend all of our energy and most of our resources caring for our offspring, teaching them all about how life works, and loving our time watching them grow.

Just about the time that they are moving out and starting their own independent lives, we begin a new part of the game. In fact, it is the time when, if we choose, we can recall the game. Not completely, at least not for most of us, but enough to wonder what we were thinking all of those years between giving up trying to direct the actions of the giants and watching our own children leave the nest.

In learning that we came here from Home, that we are here to love and laugh and enjoy the company of others, our focus shifts. Now, we don't seek to win the game. We seek, instead, to love the game.

What we come to see is that the game offers a rich environment within which we can discover an infinite number of ways Love expresses itself. Our instinctive response is to want to know more about Love. Where does it come from? Where does it go when it has passed through us?

Now, rather than competing in the game, we are becoming smiling observers. Because no one is not a participant, we are still in the game, even as we are outside it enjoying how others are playing.

We feel a great urge to share our new-found perspective with others. In some cases, our sharing is accepted and folks come to grasp a bit of what it is like for us now. In other cases, our sharing is thought of as the ramblings of old people.

Both conclusions are right.

Stay tuned...there's more.

Life, explained (3)

Part 1 is here.

Part 2 is here.

While the explanation is kept to the simplest of terms and avoids many of the complications which we all live through, it is important to grasp the elements from which the complexity is created. Only by grokking the building blocks can you begin to comprehend the delightfully rich stuff which life brings our way.

Let's keep playing.

Games we learn as children, at least most of them, are games which are designed to have a definitive end and a winner of the game when it ends.

Life is not like that.

Sure, there are competitions we cook up in our lives which are exactly the same finite games of our childhood. I'm a big fan of some of them and participate in some. Here's a silly thing I have noticed: even when we all acknowledge that it is a game which is going on, there are still people who act as if it is a cause for seriousness.

The point is, there are people who will not get what I am talking about here. That's perfectly okay, don't get me wrong. I'm not seeking to convert anyone from taking everything about life with a concentrated look on their faces and an intensity in their eyes, to something more akin to how I now seek to live. That's their choice, and bless them on their path.

For anyone reading who has been made curious, what follows is a meandering description of the game which began before our births and will continue on for an undetermined period after our Earth suits have been discarded.

We start together, so "together" that there is only Me. Through some process I am not able to describe, we each, even as still being Me, plan a visit away from the collective energy which is Me. It is a means by which we can love even more than we do already.

Once the plan is complete, we leave Me and head to Earth. We arrive at some point before we are born and begin to breathe (I'll leave the exact details of when we arrive to the attorneys and folks who can tell you exactly how many angels can dance on the head of a pin). To make things even more interesting and to insure our own total involvement, we allow ourselves to forget where we were before we came to inhabit this little 20-inch-long Earth suit.

The giants in the room are in charge, that much is obvious. They don't feed us or remove our soiled garments unless we scream at them. It is very frustrating, these not-very-attentive giants. They either forget to change our clothes, or they are in our faces making funny noises while we are simply trying to sleep. It is clear they don't understand us.

Over time, we are able to communicate with the giants and, at least sometimes, get what we need from them. While they are still only partially cooperative, they are easier to direct once we can speak their language.

This is when things really get screwy.

See more of the tale in the next post. Tomorrow, maybe.

Life, explained (2)

(if you just stumbled upon this post and have not read the first half of the topic, please read it first--it was published on March 7th and is the post immediately preceding this one chronologically)

Because we have these big organs inside our heads which provide a high-bandwidth flow of information about where we are and what our surroundings indicate, we can choose. That's my motivation in writing today, to remind anyone stopping by that we can choose. For anyone stuck in a feedback loop which is saying to them, over and over, that they are no good and will never acquire the stuff which will make them happy, here is an alternative song to stick in your head in place of that one.

We are infinite beings experiencing life as organisms on a spinning ball of dirt and water. Nothing is beyond our reach, yet we have chosen deliberately to focus on the experiences on this little ball, wearing these silly flesh-and-blood suits which hide our real and glorious selves. So, that was choice number one, a choice we made early enough that most of us cannot recall it: we chose to limit ourselves to what we can do while wearing Earth suits.

Choice number two was to allow ourselves to become so engrossed in the game that we completely forgot who we are. It adds to the intensity of the game, having made this choice, but after awhile, it also adds to the frustration level and can breed dissatisfaction.

This brings us to choice number three. We can choose to remember that we chose to be here and chose our limitations. As with any choice, there are outcomes we would prefer and outcomes we would not. My own preference is to know that life is a game not so that I can opt out, but so that I can enjoy it more. My own simple melody which repeats in my head and which I can hear if I slow down and become quiet is one of Love.

The thing is, Love is all there really is. Why we are able to avoid knowing this all the time, first thought in the morning and last one before sleeping, is inexplicable and crazy. I don't try to explain how we can avoid Love. I embrace it and allow the mystery to remain.

We come from Love. We live in a universe created from Love and pulsing Love and accepting Love.

Okay. Time for one last review.

Life is a game. Happiness is an innate part of us and of the game, and yet we can turn from it. It is possible to spot this turning away, and choose to turn back toward who we really are and enjoy the game even more. Love is the name of the path that we walk as we play the game. Love is the name of the breath we take. Love is the source, the flow, and the destination.

Can you come out and play?

Life, explained (My Sacred Life, Sunday)

Life. It's a game, isn't it? Or, to be a bit more specific, it's a game which involves folks who know they are playing a game, and folks who don't.

This sets up all manner of difficulty. Those who take life with deadly seriousness are not easy to get along with if you are one who knows we are here to have fun.

It's even a bit more complicated than that because even if you are one who recognizes the fun which life is meant to entail, you will forget from time to time. Those difficulties I mentioned? They take roost inside you when you forget. You have internal struggles between what you know to be true and what you think once you forget what you know.

When you are having those internal struggles, you will draw to you more of those folks who find life a terrible fight which must be won, and won by defeating others or defeating crises or...well, life.

Interestingly, in those quieter moments when you are fully present with your knowing, when you realize who you are, at least in the sense of knowing you have a place where you fit in this universe, you will discover more people around you who are also aware and at peace.

It's a clue, and a consistently solid one: what we see is a reflection of what we are feeling. So, if you are particularly frustrated by coworkers or fellow drivers on your commute or the long lines at the store, you are likely to see that frustration in the eyes of those around you. You are going to see traffic moving in fits and starts and those lines move even more slowly than you thought possible.

Let's recap.

In this life, being happy is facilitated by knowing that this is the Happiness Game. We draw to us people who feel similar feelings to what we are feeling and experiences which reinforce how we are feeling.

For many, I have just introduced another potential miscommunication spot. Happiness as I speak of it has nothing at all to do with stuff or prestige. Sure, stuff can be fun and prestige may get one a table when the restaurant is seemingly full, but neither are at the core of this.

Happiness is more about contentment, having a predisposition toward smiling and laughing, acknowledging the beauty and miraculousness of all that is, just as it is.

Another key attribute of our game: we don't play to win. We play for the sheer enjoyment that playing offers. For an elegantly simple explanation, read Finite and Infinite Games by James Carse.

Let's pause here for a day. I'll post the remaining portion of this tomorrow morning.

Creativity: a creature of habit (My Sacred Life, Sunday)

While I have spent a majority of my working life in pursuits not generally thought of as being creative arts, my time, particularly since being laid off 11 months ago, has increasingly been spent in areas which are more-easily associated with creativity.

Today, I'm looking to raise your awareness of what it takes, as a creative person, to end up with something which is a product of that creative energy.

As a writer, I know the single-most important exercise I can perform which will make me better is to write. Again and again. Every day I am able to.

One of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott, makes the point repeatedly in her marvelous work on writing, Bird by Bird: you have to write, you have to show up, you have to put words on paper or screen over and over, even if they are lousy collections of words, before you will become proficient at it. By the way, if you aspire to becoming a writer and have not read Bird by Bird, please do. You will find it inspiring and daunting.

Liz Gilbert, whose work Eat, Pray, Love was a phenomenon a couple of years ago, did a talk at TED in February this year which still leaves me in tears even though I have watched it at least ten times. Her central point in her talk is that, if one wishes to be creative and to satisfy the inner drive to express, one must show up and do the work of creating. It need not be a sweating-blood scenario. Rather, as she details in her talk, it can be a joyful and involving adventure...and it can still be hard to keep showing up to get the work done. She paints the picture brilliantly in this talk, and if you are a creative person or someone who simply wants to understand the creative process, please watch her talk. It is an investment of 19 minutes of your life which will return huge energy and inspiration to you. "Have the sheer human love and stubborness to keep showing up." -- Liz Gilbert, closing her talk (in the process of creating this post, I watched Liz's talk again. Yep...tears again).

Brilliant choreographer Twyla Tharp, in her book The Creative Habit: Learn it and Use it for Life, makes the point, too:

"The film Amadeus dramatizes and romanticizes the divine origins of creative genius. Antonio Salieri, representing the talented hack, is cursed to live in the time of Mozart, the gifted and undisciplined genius who writes as though touched by the hand of God… Of course this is hogwash. There are no ‘natural’ geniuses… No-one worked harder than Mozart. By the time he was twenty-eight years old, his hands were deformed because of all the hours he had spent practicing, performing, and gripping a quill pen to compose… As Mozart himself wrote to a friend, 'People err who think my art comes easily to me. I assure you, dear friend, nobody has devoted so much time and thought to composition as I. There is not a famous master whose music I have not industriously studied through many times'."

Reflecting upon what it takes to produce, she writes, "...routine is as much a part of the creative process as the lightning bolt of inspiration, maybe more."

As any of the "overnight successes" in any field will tell you, there were uncounted and mountainous investments they made in their art or their passion before the world discovered them. Paul Potts, he of the amazing viral video from the British talent show which launched his singing career, spent years and came close to financial ruin over and over as he studied and pursued his love. Yes, he was a cell-phone salesman when he went on TV, but he was hardly unschooled.

How about Tiger Woods, arguably the greatest golfer of all time? Is he the most talented, or is he simply a really good athlete who also has worked harder at the game for more years than anyone else? The truth probably lies somewhere between. Certainly, he was tutored from a very young age by his dad, and there is no question that, even today, he works harder on his game than any other professional golfer. Yet, none of that would have come to much without his innate talent. The point is, he has the talent, and he has the drive and the passion to execute. He exhibits the talent in its best light by working to provide it full expression.

So, we come to this: once you have found your passion--and that's a topic for another day, the finding of it--don't fear devoting time to it. In fact, dive in! Become someone who lives to show your love for that passion by pursuing it, by doing it, by practicing it every day. Make it a central part of your life and invest your time and energy.

You will find fulfillment, joy, and a return of the love you pour into your chosen pursuit which far exceeds any measure you can imagine. That's not to say you will necessarily find it to be your life's work or the way you pay your rent, but don't measure your ROI in dollars. Measure it in the enrichment you find in your life. If you are able to make it your means of paying the bills, wonderful! It is certainly my goal to reach that point.

Turning back the darkness

I have a waited a few days, quite on purpose, before writing something about the elections this week in the United States. Tuesday night, there were no words. Lots of tears, high fives, laughter, and disbelieving joy, but no words. Tuesday, early in the day, I had told my wife that it was a magical time. I knew that much already, but I had no idea how amazingly powerful the feelings would be when the magic was made real that night.

In 1960, we entered Camelot, all of us as one. I was almost seven years old when JFK was inaugurated. It seemed, then, to my mind, that America did magic as a matter of course. That simple illusion was shattered in November, less than three years after, with his assassination. That seven-year-old boy who took magic for granted became a ten-year-old, disillusioned and disheartened child.

For decades, in the back of my mind each time we approached another opportunity to find the next great inspirational leader, I wondered if this would be the time when the magic was reborn. Over and over, the answer was not just no, but not even close.

Finally, it took the anti-magic of eight years, eight very long years, of government by deceit, election by fraudulent means and fear-based tactics, to force the magic out of hiding.

When Dubya was elected the first time, November of 2000, I told my wife that we would probably see someone better in the White House in four years, but if we didn't, it would mean that huge, tidal-wave-like change would be coming in 2008. I don't pretend to understand the universe, but I do know that it craves balance. The natural order of things is for one aspect to be featured, then to fall back as another aspect comes to the fore. And, when any one aspect so overruns the rest for a short period, its retreat is rapid and stunningly complete.

We are seeing the dénouement play out in our country right now, as the fall of the ideologues takes place even as inspirational leadership emerges from dormancy in the form of Barack Obama.

As Obama himself noted in his speech acknowledging his victory Tuesday night, it's not going to be sunshine and lollipops all the way through. There will be challenges met and challenges barely survived, joys in success and sadness in falling short as the Obama pages are writ in history. That's not the point right now, though; today, we feel a lightness in our souls, a refreshing new breath of sweet hope and honest willingness to leap in and help in whatever way we can.

You see, that's what we Americans bring to the table when we are at our best: a stubborn denial of impossibility as we bend our shoulders to the task, side by side. World, here we come, seeking to replace the bad taste we have left in your mouths with the new energy of a country reborn to heal the wounds it brought about over the last eight years. We know that our responsibility as the most powerful country on the planet is to humbly raise up our fellow citizens of the planet, not to lord our power over them. We know it is ours to share what we have with those most in need, to heal with our medicines those most sick, to feed those most hungry.

Yes, there is also a responsibility to be a fearless representative of the powerless, but we can accomplish much more in diplomacy than any amount of killing can accomplish. If we learned no other lesson--a lesson humanity insists on being taught over and over and over again--as we continue two wars, it is this one. It is a huge challenge to unwind the mess we have helped create in Iraq and to offer to both the Iraqi people and those in Afghanistan their countries back. The bottom line is, they get to choose. We cannot impose democracy upon them, and there is no sign I see that either country has any growing groundswell to support it. So be it. We need to return to the recognition that a sovereign country is entitled to determine its own destiny. The people in that part of the world have been at it ten times longer than we Americans have, so we need to respect their process, as mysterious as it seems to us.

For the coming change inside our own borders, we need stout hearts and steady hands. Much gnashing of teeth will be evident over the next couple of years because the financial situation is such a disaster. I am confident, though, that the hand on the tiller is one we can trust, as he is smart enough to enlist the very best of us to help him help us. And, here's where the magic comes in: the best of us are no less inspired than the average citizen! They, that elite, 'best of us' group, are equally willing to come to work, roll up their sleeves, and get the job done.

Those of us (please make careful note that I did not say, 'them' and quite on purpose!) who are not convinced of the shining promise of the future of America are best advised to calm down and give the new administration some time to show their mettle. As little as I wanted to, this is what I did in 2000. Not that I want to offer that example as one to emulate as to results, but if I could give Dubya a fair shot to show what he could do, then I think those of us who opposed Obama can manage the same allowance today. It's their choice, though...continuing to live in fear of what life has to offer is a strange choice, but it is a choice.

It is a magical time, world. It is a magical time we have awaited for many years, and it is here now. Come, play with me in the golden light of this magical time. It is a sense of this creative, playful nature which can influence our lives and bring stress to its knees. Magic is nothing more than our playful nature allowed full bloom.

Come. Play with me.

Best?

A repeating theme in the back of my head for a great long time has been, what the heck constitutes one's best? I'm a long-time penitent at the altar of perfection, and coming from that perspective, there really is little which could constitute one's best.

Sure, every once in a long while, you nail something so well that you know no one could ever accomplish that task with a greater level of excellence. A really serious problem comes about, though, if you take that once-in-a-blue-moon episode on as your standard of performance.

The crisis is a simple one: if you cannot find satisfaction and happiness in your life somewhere between dereliction and perfection, you have made a miserable experience the likely outcome.

For me, the way to think about it which helps me emerge from that all-or-nothing mindset is the recognition that life is a marathon, not a sprint. Yes, there will be times when we are called upon, be it by our own internal drive or by someone else's emergency, to give all we possibly can give for a short period of time. We seem, as a species, to have enough grace to come through in a pinch. In a crisis, people pull together to get everyone safe and to help those who were harmed the most in the event.

The recent huge tornado which devastated a small town of a few thousand in Colorado is a good example. Within days, hundreds of people from all over Colorado, and some from other countries, even, had flocked to Windsor to help.

All of us are capable of this response, and I dare say most will be called upon at some point in their lives to come through, like it or not.

But what about our regular, day-to-day lives? You know, that life where it is not surprising to find yourself cut off in traffic by someone who then flips you off? That's one I have never quite figured out. That sense of entitlement above and beyond any limit which normal folks place on themselves whenever they reach another person's outer boundary? It's the opposite of that gracious response I was talking about.

It is just that type of response which, in much less-dramatic fashion, provides the push-back we actually need to avoid an obsession with doing things perfectly. Now, I'm not talking to all of you, I know. We don't all have this same thing going on that I do, but enough people I know share this sense of needing to do things better than just barely okay. A whole lot better.

Okay. So, if you cannot be perfect, and you cannot be a slob (most of us don't want the consequences of that), how do you know when you have done your best?

Here's my answer. If you have a different one, or a different take on the same one, please comment and 1) straighten me out, or 2) join me in rejoicing that there is an answer.

For me, it is a matter of going for the task with all I've got, and then stopping when I get a sense, a simple knowing, that "that's enough." It really happens like that, as if another voice is chiming in, in quotes.

Here's a simple example. My wife, darling soul that she is, does the dishes at night, usually after I have long disappeared to bed. In the morning, when I am getting ready for work and she is snoozing, I put away as much of the collection of pots, pans, spatulas, and other cooking implements left drying in the kitchen as I can easily accommodate. I usually don't put everything away, but I do take into consideration what she can easily do and not do, and do my best (Aha! There's that phrase!) to help with the "not do" parts.

And then, I go about my business, knowing the 'put stuff away' segment of her morning will be a bit easier for my efforts.

Perfect? Not hardly, as the perfect guy would have done the dishes in the first place. I'm not going to go into how this all works in my house, as there are chores I do which might not be considered typical Man Chores, and my lovely wife is perfectly capable of declaring any arrangement she finds unfair to be just that. So, don't bother with comments which are off-topic. Remember: the topic is, what is your best?

Just yesterday, as I was finishing making my oatmeal for breakfast, I thought about how I was not doing my best in this very arena, of putting things away in the morning.

This loops us around to the question again.

Yesterday, I thought to myself, "Hold it, there, buster! I did plenty this morning, and I'm happy to consider this a best-effort situation as I evaluate my performance." (sadly, I sometimes talk to myself just this strangely)

So, we come down to two different scenarios, and two different levels of performance.

Scenario Emergency: We do heroic things like lift cars off of children or raise $10,000 in a week for a person who needs an operation.

Scenario Every-Day Life: We go one step beyond what we need to do, and we do it because it makes us feel good. It's not heroic, but we are willing to do it every single day for the next 50 years.

For me, both of these scenarios qualify as one who is doing one's best. I'm one of those Scenario Every-Day Life guys. I bring my next-door neighbor's paper up from the street to his front door every morning because he is older and less able than I. It is such a little thing it would not merit mention, but it is exactly the kind of thing which I mean to describe.

My best is defined, by me, as doing all I can on a repeatable basis. After all, I want to feel like I am doing my best most of the time, and since I know I am, I need to carefully define it so it is understandable. I have that whole, right-brain, left-brain discussion inside my own head to facilitate, you know?

Please do let me know what this little thought-dump brings up for you.