The Rest Is Still Unwritten

Born A Mistake

2012-01-25T12:18:00.001-05:00

My Mother once told me I was a "mistake."

In that moment you can imagine how I felt.

I assumed she was defining the word "mistake" as me being unwanted. However, what she really meant by "mistake" is that I was unplanned, but a welcomed surprise. There is a HUGE difference!

Perhaps her poor choice of words are to blame, or perhaps me jumping to conclusions and assuming the worse was my fault. In the end it doesn't matter. What matters is that I was conceived out of love and was loved from birth. I hope everyone in this world is as lucky.

As a man, I'm in no position to speak even remotely intelligent on the issue of pro-choice vs pro-life. And in all honesty, I don't think any man is. Because a man will never know what it's like to carry a child. They will never be able to experience all that it entails - both physically and emotionally. You can strap those fake "mummy tummy" vests on us and attempt to describe the indescribable bond (or sheer terror) you feel to a baby growing inside of you. But the truth is men just don't get it. And those that pretend they get it are full of shit. I'll never know how it truly feels. No man will!

I will never write about things I do not know. I will never write about experiences I've never had or feelings I've never felt. All I can write about is what I know to be true, that which I feel in my heart. I don't know what it's like for a woman to have a baby, to go through with an abortion, or to struggle between the two choices. I do however know what it feels like to hear the words "you were a mistake." And it makes me wonder if anyone else out there has ever heard those words or felt that way too?

But most of all, I wonder what it would be like if some male politicians get their way in forcing women who have been raped to carry out their pregnancies. I think of that child growing up knowing they were brought into this world unwanted and as a by-product of violence. Everyone should grow up knowing they were wanted, or a welcomed surprise, or at the very least conceived out of love.

My sister and her husband struggled for 2 years to have a baby. When she finally became pregnant we were all ecstatic! Then late in the pregnancy she had a miscarriage. It was devastating. The loss took such an emotional toll on her and the risk was so high that she didn't think she could go through the process again. So they looked into adoption. But just as the adoption papers were about to start, she learned she was pregnant again. This time around she gave birth to a healthy baby girl.

Every time I see my niece I make a point to tell her she looks pretty ("bella Mia"). Because every little girl deserves to hear they're pretty. And because she simply is.

They named her Mia, one of my all-time favorite names. In Italian it means "mine." Because she was/is more than wanted. I hope everyone in this world is as lucky.

Man In The Mirror

2011-12-29T15:39:00.002-05:00

The yearly tradition of reflecting on the year that has passed and writing down your resolutions for the year to come is in full swing. With 2012 just days away, I've been seeing countless blogs rehashing their "Best of 2011" posts or their "2012 Is Going To Be My Year" posts. I'm not going to do either. You can breathe a sigh of relief.

I'm also not going to waste space on a "7 Years Of Blogging" post - a personal milestone I will hit on January 1, 2012. While I'm sure I would appreciate the virtual high fives and congratulatory comments that would follow, writing such a post would be self-indulgent on my part and I don't want to be a victim of a selfish kind of love. You can breathe a second sigh of relief. Instead I'm going to do something different.

2012 is the year of you! That man (or woman) in the mirror.

Every New Year people talk about resolutions, changes, promises, goals and dreams. Then two weeks in, people forget those resolutions. They fail to make those changes, keep those promises, finish those goals and follow those dreams. Why? Well they give lots of excuses. And those excuses always include blame, usually blaming everyone and everything but themselves!

Look at our economy. Occupy Protestors want to blame rich bankers and refer to themselves as the 99%. While statistically I fall into that 99%, it seems like I'm in the rare 1% who blames greed on both sides as a whole. Democrats blame Republicans. Republicans blame Democrats. And every U.S. citizen blames the entire U.S. Government. But no one wants to say "hey, I'm part of the problem as well."

Just today on the news I heard a study claiming Mothers are to blame for their children's adult obesity! They say people are fat because their Mom failed to give them the proper amount of hugs in childhood. That they lacked the love and support they needed earlier in life in order to deal with stress they would face later in life. Really? No one thinks being fat has to do with poor eating habits and a lazy lifestyle? Hey, I missed a couple hugs growing up but I'm no fatty. And in no way have I, or will I ever, blame Mom for any adult problem I face.

While it's true that the choices others make affect each of our lives to a certain degree, in no way do they decide your life as a whole. No one has that level of control over you. No one! Well, except yourself. You control you. And you are fully responsible for you, for your life, for your choices. Period.

We live in a finger pointing, shame blaming world. People hate taking responsibility when they mess up and fail. But they love taking full responsibility when they succeed! It's a selfish kind of love. It's why I roll my eyes when I read a blog post about someone who goes on and on about how much ass they are kicking in life, but they never share how much they've had their ass kicked by life. It's just not a pretty portrait to paint, therefore they don't paint it. Not only is it not a realistic portrait of who they truly are, it's not beautiful. There is beauty in struggle. And there's even more beauty in having the courage to share one's personal struggle.

I view my life and every aspect of myself as a constant work in progress. I want to be a better man. That's why every morning I look at my reflection in the mirror with one single goal - to be a better man today than I was yesterday. And tomorrow I will strive to be a better man than I am right now writing this.

We are told to think BIG! Dream BIG! "2012 is going to be my BIG year!" But sometimes BIG can feel overwhelming and paralyzing, especially when we don't know where to start. So I'm here to tell you to start small with the little things. Start with that man in the mirror. Stop making excuses. Stop pointing blame. Start taking responsibility. Start making a change.

I'm starting with the man in the mirror
I'm asking him to change his ways
And no message could have been any clearer
If you wanna make the world a better place
Take a look at yourself and then make a change

Give Presence, Not Presents

2011-12-20T15:57:00.006-05:00

The reality of many people's holidays includes too much to do and not enough time. Too much to purchase and not enough money. Too much to eat and not enough willpower. On the other hand some people experience not enough family, fun, and friendship.

This is the first Christmas I won't spend with any of my family. Just me and the Bulldog. I won't bore you with the details of why. But needless to say, I'm not looking forward to Christmas. In fact, I want it to be over with fast! Last night I sat with my newly purchased 46'' HDTV and thought to myself..."Hey, this might not be so awful. I could really use a few days of downtime anyway." I decided I'll make the most of the situation by spending Christmas Day cuddled up on the couch with my puppy watching a marathon of holiday classics together. As I set the TV to record every holiday movie from "A Christmas Carol" to "Elf" I thought to myself what a loser I am! I promptly went to bed feeling even more depressed. Then just like Ebenezer Scrooge, something happened overnight and I woke up bursting with excitement!

As families change and grow, traditions change as well. Instead of trying to reproduce the exact old-fashioned holiday of your childhood, open your heart to new traditions and give the words "extended family" new meaning. That may mean inviting over other single friends who are unable to travel home for the holidays, or simply making new friends who have no family or home to travel to! What am I talking about? Read on.

When I was a kid, I loved when Grandma came to visit because she always brought me a present! And when Christmas hit, the presents from Grandma doubled! Not only did I look forward to those presents, I came to expect those presents. Sometimes I think I liked receiving the presents more than I liked receiving the warm Grandma hugs that came attached to them. I've since grown up and realized that the holidays aren't are about presents, it's about presence. Her being present in my life at age 92 is a gift in itself. Sure I fondly remember the Tony Hawk skateboard she gave me, but I never cherished it like the time I spent on her lap listening to Grandma's stories. That's the thing. People don't always remember what you gave them, but they always remember how you made them feel. (Spoiler Alert: That usually doesn't cost a penny.)

A few years back my parents fell on very hard times. So as a family we all agreed not to exchange birthday or Christmas presents anymore. Having a bit of that greedy child still in me, my initial thought was "this is going to suck!" While I understood it, I didn't like it. And I felt frustrated because gifts are one of the ways I show my love to the people I care about. So it's very difficult for me to be asked NOT to do that.

I thought of buying myself another lavish gift to perk up my mood and get me into the spirit of Christmas. But it didn't feel right. Then when I woke up today, it hit me. Instead of spending Christmas Day alone in front of my TV, I should spend it volunteering in a packed soup kitchen! Even the idea of it makes me happy!

One of the best antidotes to self-pity and seasonal sadness is helping someone in need. Find someone who is struggling more than you are and lending a much needed hand. I've never helped in a soup kitchen before. But I'm really looking forward to hearing their stories, spreading some laughter, and relating to a stranger on a deeper level of self. They will become my "extended family" if even just for a day. It should be quite a memorable Christmas.

Half of me is doing this for selfless reasons - to give the gift of presence because everyone deserves to know they matter in life. And the other half of me is doing it for selfish reasons - to make myself feel better. Is that so wrong if in the end everyone wins?

Not ready to pick up the soup kitchen ladle and need some holiday blues relief? When all else fails drop into a church, mosque, synagogue, temple, or...you get the idea. You don't have to worship there. You don't even have to believe in God. Most places of worship welcome all people, even those just looking for a touch of grace in the midst of a stressful day. And sometimes just sitting in sacred space can remind you of the true meaning of the holidays.

Share your holiday tradition or story in the Comments section. And if you've ever worked in a soup kitchen, let me know what I should expect!

Will You Ever Marry?

2011-12-15T12:47:00.001-05:00

Who needs a spouse? Not many of us.

According to the PEW Research Center only half of Americans are married. And half of those marriages end in divorce. "I do" is fast becoming "I don't"...ever! So the question is why?

Kim Kardashian was married for just 72 days making a mockery of the sacred vow. Certainly a sign of how our culture views marriage, or is it? We could point to so many examples of how little marriage means. Elizabeth Taylor married 8 times! Why bother?

Conservatives blame gay marriage, saying it's unconstitutional. The act was defined between a man and a woman. Others say the feminist movement killed "I do." Who needs a man when a girl can make her own money and buy her own sperm? Still others blame men who say men never much liked marriage anyway. But maybe it's more simple than that. Maybe in 2012 we just don't need to be married anymore.

The average marrying age is 27 for women and 29 for men, even older if you're college educated. Does that mean people who are educated are too smart to marry young or not at all? Maybe. Because I tend to think people who marry under 25 are out of their freaking mind! The majority of 20-somethings are more concerned with securing a job before securing a relationship. Really that's how it should be because most 20-somethings can't afford themselves, let alone anyone else.

My parents have been married for 35+ years. I've lost track of the exact number of years. Perhaps they have as well. I won't say they've been happily married because I firmly believe no marriage is always happy all the time. They've had their share of ups and downs - believe me. And they've fallen in and out of love - at least that is what I believe. When I was a child and they fought, I was terrified they would divorce! At night outside my bedroom door, I actually sat trembling on the staircase listening to them yell back and forth in an unrelenting storm. My Father's voice rumbled low like thunder. And my Mother's clashed with his like lightning.

I fantasized about all 4 feet of me standing up to all 6 feet of him. Standing up for my Mother. I would tell him how I didn't appreciate his tone or the manner in which he spoke to, and of, her. That we should sit down and calmly talk this over like gentleman. There may have even been a cap gun dual in this fantasy of mine. In my eyes, he was the bad guy and I always took my Mother's side. Of course the reality is I never said shit, even to this day. I've stayed out of my parents relationship just like both of my parents have always stayed out of my relationships. We have that mutual respect, that understanding.

The point is, I was the weird kid in school because I was one of the rare kids whose parents were still married. And because of this other kids thought I had it good. But that's the thing about marriage. It isn't always good. It almost always looks better from the outside. With so many young adults who have grown up from volatile or broken homes, is it really any surprise why they aren't eager to tie the knot?

People don't go into relationships with realistic expectations. A friend of mine once showed me a list of qualities she would like in a man. It was over a page long! Not only is that too picky, it's unrealistic. And she wonders why she can't find anyone. Your list should only contain 5 non-negotiables. Everything else you need to bend on. Don't want to bend? Then get used to being single.

Marriage is about the ability to get outside of your own interests and put another person before yourself. In this selfish world we live in, few people are willing to do that. And when it comes to doing the work, people are just lazy. They don't want to work at love. The thinking of "why work at something I can obtain easily elsewhere?" So people divorce over troubles that could be worked through and move on.

Maybe monogamy is an unrealistic standard for the times in which we live. Is it possible that it's impossible to have just one partner?

So I ask you, do you ever see yourself getting married?

One Of The Many Things I Never Talk About

2011-11-28T13:26:00.009-05:00

We all have things we don't tell anyone about. Big things. Scary things. Confusing, embarrassing and shameful things. This is one of my things.

I suffer from panic attacks.

They don't happen often. I had my first in 2007. A second and a third one followed a few months later. Then I was fine for a couple years and recently they started up again. My last one occurred just last week. That might not seem like a lot, or maybe it is but I'm no doctor. Although for me it's enough. It's enough that I now know what they are and I know enough to know that it isn't normal. I haven't told a sole what I'm going through, not even my doctor. I know what you're thinking. You're probably wondering..."if he knows he suffers from panic attacks and knows it is a problem, why the hell doesn't he seek help?"

And as a logical person your next question is probably..."if he is scared or confused or embarrassed or ashamed to talk about it, how the hell can he blog about it - TO AN ENTIRE WORLD OF STRANGERS!"

I don't really have a good answer to that. I will say this though. It's often easier for me to write how I feel than to verbalize it. I think the reason why is because this computer screen is a silent court. It doesn't judge. It doesn't have a mouth that drops open in shock. It doesn't have eyes that widen or roll. It doesn't sigh heavily with disgust or frustration. And it doesn't have a face filled with sorrow or disappointment. It's emotionless. It's numb to what I have to say and that makes it easier for me to say things - ugly, unpleasant things like "I suffer from panic attacks."

There's that word again - suffer. I hate that word! People use it so others can feel sorry for them. To say, I suffer from this or that. The truth is most people don't have to suffer at all. In a way, I choose to suffer by not seeking the help I know I need. To play the helpless victim is inexcusable. Writing this post instead of talking to my doctor is inexcusable. People who ~~suffer from~~ have panic attacks want to blame external factors - their stressful job, their fucked up childhood, etc. I refused to do that. Instead I blame me for not taking control of the problem when it first surfaced in 2007.

Like anything we are scared to talk about, I have a lot of frightening "what if" scenarios haunting me. What if I have an attack in front of all my employees at work? I'm supposed to be cool, calm, and collected. A boss is to be in charge and have everything under control at all times. What if I fail to be that guy? What if I train for an entire year to BASE jump and when Bridge Day finally arrives I lose it in front of 200,000 people? What if I'm lying in bed with a beautiful girl sleeping quietly beside me and she awakes to find me in the middle of a panic attack (oddly enough they usually occur in the wee hours of the morning, waking me in my sleep). That's sooo unsexy and she will think I'm a total nutcase! I don't want her to witness any of that! These are just a few of my fears. And these fears only increase my anxiety and the likelihood that I will trigger the very thing I fear most - having another panic attack.

I try not to think about it though. I try not to bring the attacks upon myself. I try to relax and worry less. But just like any other problem you sweep under the rug, it eventually resurfaces later in life. It's nature's way of forcing you to deal with the mess you once pushed away and tried to hide from the world, as well as from yourself. Life is a bitch like that. And life is also beautiful like that. It forces you to feel things you need to feel and deal with things you need to deal with. It's through that difficulty that we grow and through that pain that we heal. I am being taught that - the hard way.

So I leave you with this question to ask yourself. Where is there lingering pain in your life that you have swept under the rug? And how do you plan on cleaning it up? Because trust me when I say, you don't want to learn the hard way.

Tell Me How Bad I Suck

2011-11-16T13:42:00.005-05:00

With a title like that, some might call me a masochist. But I'm not. What I am is someone who is aware when he's sucking and doesn't want to suck anymore. I'm referring to my writing.

This has nothing to do with low self-esteem, a lack of confidence, or an insecure need for validation from others. This has to do with improvement. Being the best I can be. Giving you the best of me. And knowing when I need to swallow my stupid pride and ask for help in order to make all of that happen.

Don't worry. We've already established that I'm my own worst critic. So this won't be another one of those whiny "I hate my own writing" posts. Nor is it a post looking for accolades from readers saying..."You're wrong, David. Your writing doesn't suck. You're an amazing writer!" While I thank you for any kind thoughts that come to your mind upon reading this, I want to stop you from sharing any compliments with me. Why? Because that's not helpful right now.

Instead, I want you to tear me apart! It doesn't even have to be worded tactfully. While I need constructive criticism, I don't need you to waste time choosing your words carefully. Just be blunt with me. Lay it right out there. Whatever comes first to your mind. Let it bypass your filter and say it, Penelope Trunk-style. I want to hear it!

And I promise you won't hurt my feelings nor will I resent you for it. I've put on my big boy pants for this. Thick skinned, braced and ready. I can take it. So fire away! Please, I'm begging you! And I never beg so you know I'm serious and desperate here. Tell me how bad I suck so I can suck less. Or ideally, not at all.

PS (If you're one of those lurkers who reads my blog that rarely comments, or has never commented before, I encourage you to break that cycle today. Because the reality of it all is that I'm doing this for YOU - the reader. I want to write in a way that sucks you in, moves you, and has you craving more. Is that too much to shoot for?)

PPS (I'm asking for this help now because I want to correct the problem before my new blog launches! I'm promising that the new blog will come with more awesome. It will expose more fear and embrace more vulnerability. It will be bold and blunt and powerful. It's going to be incredibly raw! I think you're going to love it. Or at least that is what I'm being told deep down in my gut. And I've learned to listen to my gut. It's a friend of mine. A squishy bestie. Now you be a bestie and tell me how bad I suck - honestly. I'll love you long time for it.)

Kicking Ass! One Goal At A Time

2011-11-10T13:56:00.006-05:00

I have a goal.

In exactly 1 year from now I'm going to B.A.S.E jump off a 876ft bridge over the New River Gorge in WV.

I have a problem.

I've never skydived before and you need a minimum of 100 skydives to B.A.S.E jump.

The solution? It's an obvious one. Start jumping!

Goals. We all have them. Some more than others. And some scarier than others. To achieve the big things in life we dream of we have to set a goal and actively work towards it. Now comes the sticky part. The goal setting is easy. The goal keeping is hard. It's not necessarily hard because we're lazy. But it's hard because the steps needed to achieve a big goal can often feel overwhelming! And when something feels overwhelming to us we get stressed out, frustrated, and sometimes even scared. Then we give up. It doesn't have to be like that though. And I'm here to help you make sure it's NEVER like that again!

Any half-decent Life Coach will tell you that if you're constantly falling short of reaching your goals that your problem is most likely one of two things.

1. Accountability
2. You're setting the bar too high.

Accountability is similar to a support system, or a nagging Mother in your ear. When someone agrees to hold you accountable for something they do more than keep you on track. They help push your "I think I can, I think I can" choo choo train forward. They're capable of lighting a fire under the ass of even the most unmotivated person. And if someone loves you and believes in you enough to help hold you accountable, you owe it to them to succeed! Because that is their payoff. To see you achieve what you sought out to achieve.

However, you are an adult. And as an adult you shouldn't need a personal cheerleader. You should be man (or woman) enough to cheer and lead yourself on. So how do you do that? Well you don't lower the bar. You just build a step ladder so reaching it becomes easier.

When someone says "you're setting the bar too high" it's insulting! They're implying that you could never reach such a feat and it's wise to think smaller, to lower your standards and squash down your dreams. We all deserve to dream big! And we deserve it to ourselves to reach big goals and not settle for less (which in my case is no less than 876 feet)!

If I said I can help you make your wildest dreams come true and show you how to hold yourself accountable for your own success by doing just one small thing today, would you do it? If you're nodding your head yes, then keep reading.

Today set 1 goal for yourself that you must accomplish before midnight tonight. It can be anything, even something silly like "my goal is not to spill food on my shirt at lunch." The idea here isn't so much about accomplishing the goal, but rather proving to yourself that you're capable of doing anything you set your mind to. It gets you in the pattern of goal setting and holding yourself personally accountable for seeing it through.

Tomorrow set another, slightly bigger goal for yourself that you must accomplish. But this time give yourself 1 week to complete it. Keep this pattern up by setting a bigger, scarier goal and setting an appropriate deadline in which to achieve the goal. You'll find that instead of limiting the size or number of your dreams, that if you just focus on one small goal at a time, you're much more likely to achieve them! In addition, each goal can be broken down into small manageable chunks so that envisioning the finish line doesn't feel overwhelming! Training for a marathon is a perfect example of this. You don't suddenly run all 26.2 miles in one day! You run a few miles a day over months of training. And before you know it, BAM! You just knocked 26.2 out on pavement. Goal accomplished!

Of course what I said here are probably things most of you already know. So perhaps I just wanted to write this post as a way to hold myself personally accountable for achieving my own goal - to B.A.S.E jump off a 876ft bridge. And that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to climb the steps and jump from the ledge...without a fucking clue how it's all going to turn out.

What's your goal for today? For tomorrow? For a year from now? Jump on that!

My Birthday Mission. Are You In?

2011-10-26T12:52:00.003-04:00

I need your help.

Don't worry. It won't cost you a single penny. It won't even cost you much time. In most cases, it will take less than 60 seconds to complete. And as you may know, a lot can be accomplished in a single minute.

My birthday is this Friday, October 28th. And I want you to help me celebrate it.

No, I don't want you to buy me a present. And no, I don't even want you to wish me a happy birthday. I want you to do something different. Something special. Something for someone else. A stranger.

This Friday, October 28th, I want you to perform a random act of kindness to a complete stranger.

Why?

Well I've always felt a bit uncomfortable when someone buys me a present, even a card! I love giving presents, but I feel guilty when someone gives me one. I feel I don't deserve it. I don't know why that is because I was a greedy child just like everyone else. I suppose it has to do with the fact that a few years ago my parents fell on very hard times. So as a family, we all agreed not to exchange birthday or Christmas presents anymore. Gifts are one of the ways I show my love to the people I care about. So it's very difficult for me to be asked NOT to do that. But as a result, it has forced me to show my love in other ways. And performing Random Acts Of Kindness are one of the ways I do this.

Ideas To Help Get You Started

Make a shy child laugh.
Hold the door open for someone.
Buy a lottery ticket for a stranger.
Walk an elderly person's dog. (Counts as 2x the kindness! You're being kind to the elderly person and to the dog!)
Donate some of your used clothes to Good Will.
Let someone in a hurry cut in line infront of you.
Pay for the car behind you at the toll booth. (This is especially great because it's nearly impossible for them to thank you. And that's how Random Acts Of Kindness should be done - to be nice, not for recognition.)
Change a fellow motorists's flat tire. (I once got a date that way! But that's not why you should be doing it.)
Give a compliment about your waiter/waitress to his/her manager.
Surprise an extra busy waiter/waitress who appears to be having a hard day by tipping them more than your actual bill costs. (I'm a big fan of treating restaurant staff kindly because I know their job sucks and they may very well spit in your food if you're a jerk.)

What goes around, comes around. So help me make this a happy birthday by spreading a little happy. It's sure to make me, you, and a complete stranger feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And I can't think of a better birthday present than that!

Now for the selfish part, I want you to report back here and tell me what you did. So leave a comment below. I'm taking Friday off and will be away for the weekend. So come Monday, I hope to see the comment section full of warm fuzzy stories.

In advance, I thank you!

Are Bloggers Scary? 3 Myths Debunked

2011-10-20T13:27:00.006-04:00

"Have you ever been nervous to write someone? It’s silly. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?"

This is a very honest confession. It was a confession I received recently from a reader. And it seems like many of us feel this way - scared to contact a blogger. I'll admit there were times when I have felt a bit nervous or intimidated in contacting a blogger, especially if they were considered an A-List Blogger. But it is silly.

If you've been blogging for awhile you've probably received your fair share of fan mail. I hate the term "fan mail" as much as I hate the term "A-List Blogger." I hate it because it automatically puts the e-mail recipient (blog author) on a higher pedestal than the sender (blog reader). And that simply isn't cool. It sets this artificial, predetermined hierarchy of importance that hasn't been earned nor deserved.

I want to change that.

So I'm going to debunk the myths and break down some of the stereotypes associated with bloggers so that readers feel more comfortable about engaging with them.

Myth #1 - Bloggers Are Narcissistic
Ok, this is less of a myth and more of an ugly fact...to a point. Every blogger is a little narcissistic. That may sting to hear. But you know it's the truth! Feeding one's narcissism is how blogging evolved. When blogging started in the late 90s they were basically online diaries. Putting your life out there for all the world to see? It doesn't get more narcissistic than that! Thankfully, blogs today have evolved away from that teenage angst-style of word vomit. Of course there isn't a single blogger alive that doesn't love reading all the comments on their latest post and doesn't eat up any warm fuzzy you float their way.

So how is that not narcissistic? Well you get what you give. Most bloggers today write less about/for ME, ME, ME and more about/for YOU. I already know about me. What I don't know about is you! Anyone who has ever dated me can attest to the fact that I'm far more fascinated in learning about them than I am talking about myself. My online interactions are no different. In short, bloggers are good people. They're good not because they have to be, but because they want to be. They just are.

Myth #2 - They'll Just Ignore Me, So Why Bother?
For whatever reason, readers don't expect the blogger to be nice. Or maybe it's that they just don't expect me to be nice? Because when I reply, they often say "I'm shocked you wrote back!" Perhaps they assumed their letter would receive a canned reply from a bot or simply vanish into cyberspace receiving no reply at all. I can't speak for other bloggers, but I don't work like that. If you take the time to write me, I'll take the time to write back. It's that simple.

Myth #3 - I Don't Want To Be Another Fan Girl/Fan Boy
They'll say "I've been reading you for (insert x amount of time), but never commented or introduced myself." If I had a nickel for every time someone said "I'm sure you get a lot of these so I was reluctant to write," I'd be a rich man! People also often tell me that they feel nervous, stupid, or crazy for writing me. And honestly, I don't understand why. I'm a person, just like you. What's to be scared about? Besides, bloggers are social beings! Bloggers love meeting new people and chatting them up. Half the fun of blogging is the community that surounds it - the engagement. So leave them a comment, drop them a line, say hello. What's the worst that can happen?

Really, what's the worst that can happen? They don't write back. So what! At least now you know who not to spend your time on. Or the other fear, they write back and aren't nice? Who cares! The beauty of the Internet is that you can "delete" the mean people from the world. Sure they will still be an asshole in real life, but at least you won't have to deal with them. You can simply delete them from your virtual world and move on. Voila!

Do bloggers still seem scary now?

Understanding Blame

2011-10-13T14:42:00.002-04:00

I wrote a post awhile back titled Understanding Anger.

For someone who often hates his own writing, I felt it was one of my better pieces to date. So I wanted to write a second piece about Anger's close cousin - Blame.

Blame isn't about about right and wrong. And it's not about someone else at all. Blame is an internal war. Similar to anger, blame is just another mask for pain. Anger is a symptom of something deeper. It is never the problem. The real problem is hurt, fear, and/or frustration. The same could be said for blame.

We like to numb our pain. It's what we do. One of the things that I think we need to think about is why and how we numb. When we get our heart broken we engage in "rebound sex" or quickly find ourselves entering in to a "rebound relationship." It numbs the pain and temporarily fills the void. But it never heals the true, deeper problem lying underneath. We do the same with alcohol or when we consume ourselves in our work and hobbies. It's another lame attempt to distract ourselves from the pain so we don't have to deal with it.

Even those who take a healthier route and choose meditation say they meditate because it clears their heart and mind. But really many just use their meditation time as an acceptable quiet place to escape to so they are no longer forced to feel. In today's society, meditation has become the trendiest of all masks.

We numb because we don't want to feel, that's obvious. And one of the easiest ways to keep yourself from feeling anything is to make it about someone (often anyone) other than yourself. To push your shit out on them so it doesn't stack up inside of you. To point blame.

The other thing we do is we make everything that's uncertain certain. Religion has gone from a belief in faith and mystery to certainty. I'm right. You're wrong. Shut up. That's it. Just certain. Politics aren't any different. They're is nothing but mud slinging and finger pointing. There's no discourse anymore. No conversation. Just blame. Blame is simply a way to discharge pain and discomfort. We perfect. We blame.

Nowhere is blame more prevalent than in the falling out of a relationship. Few people like to take responsibility for their fair share of the damage. Instead they blame. They point a finger at the other person because it's easier than pointing a finger at themselves. It's easier to say "something is wrong with him/her because clearly the problem couldn't lie in me!" Again, we perfect. We blame.

I also believe blame stands in for fear. Fear we will be proven wrong. Fear they will be proven right, or always were right. Fear is a strong emotion that makes us feel weak. But blame on the other hand is a weak action that makes us feel strong! So it's easy to see why many replace fear with blame. It's the safer, more manageable choice.

Blame is ugly. Blame is weak. Blame is wrong. But above all, blame is just an excuse to mask one's internal pain. And understanding what blame really is the first step in rising above the blame game.

What about you? Where in your life right now are you guilty of pointing blame? And how do you plan on rising above it?

Be Crazy And You'll Change The World

2011-10-06T00:14:00.002-04:00

Here's to the crazy ones.
The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers.

The round pegs in the square holes.
The ones who see things differently.

They're not fond of rules and they have no respect for the status quo.
You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify and vilify them.

About the only thing you can't do is ignore them because they change things.
They push the human race forward.

And while some may see them as crazy, we see genius.

Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world...

"We're here to put a dent in the universe." - Steve Jobs (1955-2011)

...are the ones who do.

* Related post of interest: 8/31/11 Life's Greatest Catalyst Is Death

Career Blogs Need To Incorporate Sex And Swearing

2011-09-29T16:52:00.002-04:00

Do business advice blogs bore you?

Yeah, me too.

And that's a shame because they are often packed with lots of great content! The trouble is they often pack that great content in a boring manila folder. And lets be honest, no one is ever eager to peek inside a boring manila folder.

So these posts get overlooked and their great advice goes unheard because the presentation and delivery are all wrong. They've failed to entice the reader and get them excited to read more!

Smart business advice doesn't vary much whether you are writing from an tropical island as a location independent entrepreneur, or from a corner office with a birds-eye view overlooking the island of Manhattan. It doesn't even vary much if you're writing from inside four dull gray cubicle walls.

The point is, from WHERE you write doesn't matter. HOW you write does! And personally, I would be more likely to read career blogs if they incorporated some sex and swearing. Anything to spice it up!

I don't write a lot of career/entrepreneurship advice here on my blog. Although I'm told I should. I don't write on the topic or even talk to my friends and family about business because quite frankly, at the end of a workday, I'm sick of talking about work.

Don't get me wrong. I love discussing business - hearing people's views, sharing my own, learning and applying new strategies. I just prefer to discuss it in a way that's more relaxed, more relatable.

Earlier this week I was asked to write a guest post for Brazen Careerist, a career-management site for high achieving young professionals and ambitious college students. I've had close to two dozen of my posts featured on Brazen Careerist in the past. So I'm guessing they like my edgy take on life and work.

Here is a nibble of my most recent one...

Giving It Away On A First Date and In Business
Ever notice that people who have a product or service of value are happy to give you a trial run or a money-back guarantee? That’s because they’re confident that once you get a taste of what they’ve created, you’ll come back for more. It’s the classic “try before you buy” concept. You hook them with that nibble.

It’s sort of like a first-date kiss. (Well, minus the nibble unless you’re into that sort of thing.) The kiss should be good, but small. Just enough to make them want more, to convince them to say yes to a second date and keep the thought of you lingering...

Click To Read The Full Post

Think of it like this. If you were standing on a corner with two men, one in a stuffy black suit and the other with a free-flowing purple mohawk, who would seem more fun to chat up?

Exactly! That's why I strive to write from a place inside myself that resembles a punk-haired businessman. Well, I'm currently sporting a fohawk undyed and missing a tie today. But close enough.

Forging Friendships With Unlike-Minded People

2011-09-23T09:20:00.001-04:00

We are attracted to like-minded people. We form friendships and romantic relationships with those who share our similar interests, goals, beliefs and core values. Just look at the people you surround yourself with. Notice the familiar flavor.

And because they are familiar the bonds are effortless, comfortable and strong. Rarely do we step completely outside our comfort zone and approach someone that is nothing at all like us! Because to do that is scary and seems awkward, like filling space with the echo of crickets where conversation should lie. So to avoid chirping insects, sweaty palms and restless feet we stick to those we share common ground with. We stick to like-minded people.

No one would question why I'm friends with the people I'm friends with IRL (In Real Life as they say) because we compliment one another. We match up just perfectly. But when it comes to the online world some of these relationships not only surprise others, but have left me scratching my own head!

Take "Sally" for example. (I'll be using the fictious name "Sally" to protect her identity.)

I'm not sure two people could be more different - "Sally" and I. It's always baffled me that she reads my blog and likes my writing. I feel like I would be highly offensive to her (ex: The Manwhore Relapse post). I like using the word "fuck." She prefers saying "fudge." That's not very like-minded. So I once tried bringing her over to the darkside, corrupt her and get her to swear. I believe I got a "f*ck" out of her. The asterisk is as far as she's going to go. She made it to the light gray side.

She's a pair of properly pressed slacks.
I'm a pair of broken-in torn bluejeans.

She's been known to give out hugs.
I've been known to get into fist fights.

She goes to church on Sunday mornings.
I'm coming home on Sunday mornings.

She enjoys curling up with a good book.
I enjoy...well, let's just leave it at that.

Good people come in all kinds of flavors and mindsets. Of course most of us will never know this because we will never reach out to anyone other than like-minded people. The only thing that "Sally" and I have in common is that we both agree the sky is blue and the grass is green. Oh and one other thing - blogging.

That’s the beautiful thing about writing. We’re not just connecting our thoughts and emotions with words. We’re connecting with complete strangers with our words. If it wasn't for blogging, "Sally" and I may have never even exchanged pleasantries. She would stick to her like-minded folk and I would stick to mine. So maybe having a blog is the perfect introduction?

Bloggers are just good people. They're good to one another because even despite all their differences, whether they type out all four letters of a curse word or drop an asterisk in the middle, they will forever share one common ground - a love for the written word. And sometimes that's enough. Sometimes one similar interest is all it takes to get a conversation going. To spawn many more conversations. To forge the most interesting and most unlikely of friendships.

Thank you written word.

Busy People Suck

2011-09-14T12:48:00.004-04:00

You know that guy that's portrayed in movies? The guy who wouldn't remember your name even if it was written on your forehead. The guy who can't get his shit together. Apparently that guy is me.

Lately I've become too wrapped up in my work. The other week my assistant had to remind me that my nephew was turning 1 and I should send a present. I never wanted to be that guy. The guy that needs reminders from his assistant to take care of the personal life he has neglected. I hate that guy!

I refuse to ever be the guy that has someone else send gifts or flowers on his behalf. The guy that can't remember special dates, like birthdays and anniversaries, all on his own.

I love giving gifts, writing a nice note, or picking out the perfect flowers. I've never been the guy who grabs the first card he sees in the store or just sends standard roses to get it over with.

I've always taken pride in the fact that I put a lot of time and thought in what gift I select and what words I choose to accompany it. That there is personal meaning behind it all. That it ties together. And most importantly, that there's no denying it's from me because it reflects me. And that there's no denying it's for you because it reflects you.

So what happens when you forget to remind yourself not to forget? What excuse do you use? The standard, "I was busy?"

I've never thought of myself as a forgetful person because forgetful people are usually unorganized, uncaring, or simply selfish. I am none of those things. Or am I? Or maybe I really am just busy.

Busy is an ugly word too. Say it outloud - busy. It's short. It's cold. Busy.

It implies I don't have time for you.

It's become standard dialog in our lives...

"Hey, how've you been?"
"Good. I've been busy."

But you know what? Busy isn't always good. Busy isn't always commendable. Busy sometimes sucks. And if you've been "busy" a lot, chances are you kinda suck too.

Life's Greatest Catalyst Is Death

2011-08-31T09:46:00.006-04:00

Why does it take death, or the threat of death, to create necessary change in our lives?

Sick people wait until they've been diagnosed with cancer before they make changes to their lifestyle. And healthy people wait until someone they love dies before they start telling those still living that they love them. Why do we wait so long before we take action?

When did death become a catalyst for living?

I waited until my Grandmother turned 90 before I started calling and visiting her on a regular basis. When she turned 90, it scared me. And like a much needed slap to the head, it woke me up. She will turn 92 in a few weeks and I feel more frightened than I did 2 years ago. It took the reality of her death being near for me to create change.

I waited until I was faced with an impending layoff at my first real job out of college to give myself the extra push I needed to start my own company. Ever since I was a kid I knew I wanted to be an entrepreneur. But for whatever reason, I waited. I waited until it was physically impossible for me to wait anymore. It took the death of my first real job for me to create change.

I waited until I was in a near fatal motorcycle accident (police even prematurely announced me "dead on the scene") until I got up the balls to break up with my then girlfriend. I knew she was selfish and cared more for herself than me. But I needed that final punch to the gut. The timing of my accident wasn't convenient for her. It interrupted plans for a vacation I had promised to take her on. I needed to witness her lack of compassion and understanding. I needed to witness her thinking of only herself so I could do what was best for myself, which was to move on. It took the death of that relationship for me to create change.

Last week Apple CEO, Steve Jobs, announced he was resigning due to his declining health. Since then, countless news articles have been written about his resignation that read less like a corporate restructuring plan and more like a Steve Jobs obituary column! Steve Jobs is NOT dead! However, many are predicting the worse will happen sooner rather than later.

So today I leave you with some words on Life, Death, and most importantly Change...

2005 Stanford University Commencement
by: Steve Jobs

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything - all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

Here's to naked living.

Wanting. Wanting What You Don't Want. And Giving Up.

2011-08-25T14:44:00.001-04:00

Ever want something or think you want something, give it to yourself and shortly after realize you didn't really want it that bad after all? That you could have made due without, but fell victim to that overwhelming greedy "want it gotta have it right now" syndrome.

It's called wanting what you don't want. And it can be applied to just about anything from a pizza to a relationship.

It reminds me of those Cold Stone Creamery cups where you must decide your level of self-indulgence. They offer 3 portions sizes - Like It, Love It, Gotta Have It. I always imagine a fat little kid's face pressed up against the glass, wide-eyed and salivating over the countless sugary choices. They all look so delicious! How could one ever decide?

That's exactly what I feel like. A kid in a ~~candy store~~ ice-cream shop, indecisive and drooling. Even when I manage to finally decide on one selection, I realize shortly after that what I thought I wanted I didn't really want that bad after all. I simply satisfied an urge. Acted on impulse. I indulged on a Gotta Have It cupful. Then again, it's NYC. And the streets are filled with an abundance of beautiful, single women.

Don't get confused. That's just an example. And this post isn't about casual sex. It's about the abundance of decisions we are faced with everyday in our lives! It's enough to make anyone's eyes glaze over like a fat little kid in an ice-cream shop.

People talk about not acting on things quickly enough. But think about all the things you acted too quickly on! If you had just allowed yourself to want it a bit longer. Admired it. Pined for it. Thought it through. If you had just delayed instant gratification for the soul purpose of mastering a beautiful quality known as patience, just think of how differently things could be right now.

Then there are the times that despite not being impulsive or greedy, your interest simply fades.

And you can't quite figure out if you truly no longer want it, or if you just gave up on wanting it so bad that you subconsciously fooled yourself into believing you no longer want it.

Because it's easier to say "I no longer want this" than to say "I gave up on wanting it."

When You Feel The Urge To Vomit, You're Living Right

2011-08-18T16:15:00.000-04:00

Last night I started writing the first post for my new blog (no, it hasn't launched yet). A post that is deeply personal and will easily be the most terrifying post I'll ever push publish on. Then I stopped writing it because it made me want to throw-up. Seriously, the urge began to overwhelm me. And I'll tell you why that's a good thing.

Because it forces me to be uncomfortable.

I'm not referring to the type of discomfort brought on by bad underwear that keep riding up or dress shoes that pinch your toes. Those are external discomforts.

I'm referring to internal discomforts. The kind of terror that keeps you up at night, tossing and turning. The kind of terror that makes your palms sweaty and your knees weak. The kind of terror that makes you want to vomit all over yourself at the sheer thought of proceeding forward.

Perfect example, being stuck in a loveless marriage. Why doesn't the person leave? Because they're comfortable. Comfortable will keep you stuck. Stuck in a dead marriage. Stuck in a dead job. Stuck in a dead town. Stuck "living" a dead life!

Simply put, comfortable is bad.

The urge to vomit all over yourself is good!

Some people would go as far to say that you should always be uncomfortable. I don't know if I would go that far because one may lose their sanity living in a state of constant uncertainty. But living with a little fear never hurt anyone. In fact, I think it's quite healthy!

I like to think people get airsick on planes not because of the motion or altitude, but because they are taking flight! That they are about to embark on new territory. To journey unfamiliar grounds. And that's both scary and thrilling.

So I urge you to break out of your comfort zone. Whether that involves writing with complete transparency and vulnerability or taking some giant leap in your life that has caused your stomach to flip-flop for days, weeks, months or even years - DO IT!

And when you feel the urge to vomit, you'll know you're living right.

Socially Retarded

2011-08-10T18:45:00.000-04:00

My face is a blessing and a cursing. Blessed that I appear friendly and open enough that pretty much anyone will talk to me. Cursed that I appear friendly and open enough that everyone does talk to me. I realize that makes me sound like a total dick! I swear I'm not a dick. I just play one on the Internet.

The best thing about the Internet is the people. It's also the worst thing about the Internet. I believe the same is true about life in general.

I don't know what it is, but people don't seem to have any social boundaries when it comes to me. Part of me enjoys their candidness and another part of me is terrified by it! My sister shares this same problem. She shares my face.

People want to engage in conversation at inappropriate times, like when I'm running with headphones in. And people want to engage in conversation that is just inappropriate at any time, like the woman in the Target checkout line telling me about her pending divorce. All I wanted to do was buy a bottle of Tide, a pack of light bulbs, and be on my way. Instead I was trapped in an impromptu marital counseling session with a total stranger that was teetering between tears and murder. On a scale from 1-10, the level awkward I felt was a 97.

My Mother says I should take this all as a compliment. That I give off kind energy. That I'm a sympathetic and understanding soul. That people can sense I'm caring. I tried not to laugh. She tried not to hit me.

They say 80% of communication is non-verbal. If that is true, which I believe it is, then maybe it's not these people that are socially retarded. Maybe it's me that's socially retarded! That somehow my body language is inviting these bizarre conversations in.

I tried not to make eye contact. I tried to look busy, as busy as one can look at a dog park. But when she said hello I couldn't be rude and not at least smile back. That is when I knew it was all downhill from there. This particular woman is notorious for talking my ear off! She physically traps me in a corner between a shady tree and a picnic table where there is no escape other than climbing the tree or leaping over the table (both options I've taken into serious consideration). She's one of those people where the conversation is all about her and she never takes a breath between sentences. It's so draining!

For the most part, I've learned to tune her out without appearing rude. I throw out the occasional "yeah, uh huh, ok, mmm hmm, really." But yesterday she said something out of left field that I just couldn't ignore. Something I've been having nightmares about! She said...

"My cockatoo's uterus pops out of it's body when aroused."

T.M.F.I. (Too Much Fucking Information)! I've never been so horrified and turned off in my entire life! I wish someone was there to photograph the look on my face, to capture my non-verbal communication. I had no reply. I literally ran away. My Bulldog followed.

What I've Learned From This Experience:
There is still a lot I don't know about the female anatomy. I know my way around a vagina, but clearly I need a Uterus 101 course. Can a uterus pop out of a woman's body? Wouldn't that hurt? Is it common? Could you die? It is an organ after all! I'm still amazed at how women can bleed for 5 days straight every month and live. I would Google the answer to these uterus questions, but I'm too frightened at the images I may find.

What You Can Learn From My Experience:
When you don't know what to say with your mouth, say it with your body. And the best non-verbal communication is to run. Run far. Run fast. Run Forrest. Run!

Finding Something You Love Is More Important Than Finding Someone To Love

2011-08-04T10:52:00.001-04:00

"I know it's a cornball thing. But love is passion, obsession, ~~someone~~ something you can't live without. I say, fall head over heels. Find ~~someone~~ something you can love like crazy ~~and who will love you the same way back~~. How do you find ~~him~~ it? Well, you forget your head and you listen to your heart. And I'm not hearing any heart. 'Cause the truth is, honey, there's no sense living your life without this. To make the journey and not fall deeply in love, well, you haven't lived a life at all. But you have to try, 'cause if you haven't tried, you haven't lived." - Anthony Hopkins on Love

That excerpt is from the father/daughter talk in the movie Meet Joe Black. In the movie Anthony Hopkins tells his onscreen daughter that her relationship with her fiancé has all the passion of a pair of titmice. Not an ounce of excitement. Not a whisper of a thrill. He wants her to get swept away. Levitate. To sing with rapture and dance like a dervish. To be deliriously happy.

Oh...and the strikeouts, those are my edits.

I edited it because I believe finding something you love is more important than finding someone to love.

(I'll pause briefly while you sigh heavily over those terribly unromantic words from me.)

Think about your life, minus any romantic relationship you may be in. Are you deliriously happy? Deeply in love? Levitating? There should be at least one THING, not a person, in your life that sets your soul on fire. One THING that makes life worth living. One THING you couldn't live without. If you can't easily name that thing, you need to find it!

When I was 18, I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. Most 18-year-olds don't. Although my problem wasn't that none of the college majors interested me. It was that I was interested in almost all of them! I had trouble deciding on only one. So I double majored. And even then I considered switching majors twice just before graduation. Needless to say, this drove my parents crazy! But that's how I've been since I was a little kid. Not indecisive. Overly passionate. About so many things!

Passion is one of those words that gets tossed around a lot. Ask a dictionary to define passion and it will say it's a strong and barely controllable emotion. Ask me to define love and I would say it's a strong and uncontrollable emotion.

On the surface, passion and love seem rather similar. But look closer and you'll see one huge difference!

Romantic love often changes and is fleeting. But a true passion in life is constant and everlasting. That is why finding something you love is more important than finding someone to love. It's love that's stable. It's been there since birth and chances are you've been chasing it ever since.

Finding something you love isn't just about filling your time. It's about filling your heart. Making yourself feel complete and happy all on your own. Satisfied to the point where if you never do find someone to love, that your life won't ever feel empty. That you found your life's purpose. Find that one thing that makes you deliriously happy. Levitate.

Life Is Made Of Mud, Sweat, And Beer

2011-07-28T14:06:00.012-04:00

Warrior: A person who shows or has shown great vigor, courage, or aggressiveness.

If you've ever run a full marathon (26.2 miles), you know about The Wall. The Wall is that point around the 20 mile mark where your body physically shuts down on you, making the last 6 miles excruciatingly challenging. It's the body's natural safety mechanism. A way to keep you from harming yourself. So to muscle through the remaining 6 miles you need mental toughness. Your mind has to tell your body don't quit! And isn't that the same for anything in life?

Life is about mental toughness. Perseverance. Being a warrior.

I signed up for a race called Warrior Dash. Warrior Dash is a mud-crawling, fire-leaping, extreme run from hell. This fierce running series is held on the most challenging and rugged terrain across the globe. Warriors conquer extreme obstacles, push their limits and celebrate with kick-ass music, beer and warrior helmets.

It's been dubbed, "The Craziest Frickin' Day Of Your Life!"

Mud. Sweat. Beer. Competition. Fire. Did I mention FIRE? Naturally, I'm all in!

Although this post isn't about Warrior Dash. It's about life. Or rather how competing in events like Warrior Dash are filled with metaphors that transfer over to life.

So I present to you...

10 Obstacles You Will Face In Life
(And In Warrior Dash)

1. Run Uphill
If you can't run uphill in life (and in Warrior Dash), you might as well roll over and die now. Life is challenging. That's the point of living! To overcome obstacles and bask in the glory that follows after conquering whatever life throws at you. It's about eating it up and spitting it back in life's face. Saying..."Is that the best you got?" Bring it, Life!"

2. Hurdle Over Walls
"The brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. The brick walls are there to stop the people who don't want it badly enough. They are there to stop the other people!" - Randy Pausch

I don't care how you do it. Get your ass over that wall! It doesn't matter if you have a broken arm or a broken heart. You WILL overcome! You MUST hurdle over life's brick walls.

3. Enter Dark Tunnels
Not being able to see where you are going in life. Not knowing when, or how, you will come out on the other side. It's scary! In life you must take risks. And you must trust in yourself enough that no matter what the outcome of that risk is, that you'll find a way to be ok. To say, "hey at least I tried."

4. Walk The Plank
The only thing scarier than venturing down dark tunnels is seeing disaster in plain daylight! Similar to walking tight ropes, use extra caution when crossing life's planks.

5. Sidestep Holes
Few things in life are as easy and as smooth as they appear. Whoever coined the phrase "smooth sailing" obviously didn't sail much. Needless to say, if someone says life is easy, they obviously don't live much.

6. Untangle Yourself
From financial messes to relationships messes. Chances are you got yourself into this mess. Now it's up to you to get yourself out! So start untangling.

7. Wade In Murky Water
Ever been knee-high, waist-high, chest-high in shit? Of course you have! The key is keeping it from reaching neck-high. Keeping your head afloat. Chin up. You can make it through.

8. Crawl Through Mud
Before you can learn to run, you have to learn to crawl. There is no shame in crawling. I've watched Ironman competitors crawl to the finish line on all fours! It's about wanting something bad enough that you'll do whatever it takes to get there. Pay your dues. Nothing is beneath you. Dirt work are stepping stones to something greater.

9. Jump Fire
Sometimes in life you will get burned. It happens to the best of us. Learn to put out the flames, wrap your wounds and leap higher next time.

10. Avoid Getting Trampled
Basically, survive. If you fall and you're lucky, someone will lend a hand. But don't count on it. It's really up to you stay on your feet. However if you do slip, brush yourself off and get up quickly like a warrior!

Because you are a fucking warrior! Now get out there and kick life in the ass! And I'll see you at the finish line for beer, dancing, and a big fat turkey leg. I think that is what heaven is suppose to entail, right?

Life is made of mud, sweat, and beer.

Get dirty. Be strong. Find happy. Live!

90% Of This Blog Will Be Gone Forever

2011-07-20T12:12:00.008-04:00

I haven't written here in 2 weeks. Instead I've spent that time wondering if bloggers have a shelf life? Or perhaps I've simply outgrown this side project I once loved. People change. People grow. People move on. And it's ok.

I started this blog over 6 years ago and there was a time when I posted daily, including weekends! I knew I couldn't keep up with that pace and eventually went for quality over quantity. Needless to say, there is a lot of garbage I've written. So I've done the math. I've written over 1,000 posts and at least 90% of them are complete shit...in my humble opinion. That means I will be deleting the shit ones, roughly 900 posts! Maybe more.

Actually, this whole blogspot address will be gone forever. What little content I do choose to save will be moved over to a self-hosted WordPress/Thesis blog with a new domain name, new title, new design, and a whole new message. I've been really excited building it and I'm eager to introduce everyone to it! It's been a slow work in progress, but I feel will be worth the wait to readers. A change/move that is long overdue!

I need this fresh start if I'm going to continue writing, to feel inspired again.

I'm sure there will be people screaming "NO, LEAVE THE ARCHIVE UP HERE!" And they will try reasoning with me that it's nice to see where I've started and how long I've come. While I appreciate your loyalty and the love, I respond with "I simply can't." I can't change and grow if I cling to the past. And that's exactly what keeping all these old, stagnant posts around feels like - creative clutter. When I look back at them, I don't even feel like I'm reading me. I'm not that same person anymore. And those old posts simply don't help move me in the direction I am moving. But most importantly, they don't provide value to you - the reader.

Over the last few years I've realized something that every blogger could benefit from knowing...

No one really cares about me. No one really cares about any blogger. What people care about is what the blogger can do for them. What can this blogger teach me? How will reading this blog benefit me? In short, a good blog should be less about YOU and more about THEM.

Therefore this blog will be moving in a new direction. A better direction. A direction I'm sure you're going to love because it will be less about me and more about YOU!

After all, I already know me. What I don't know a lot about is you. Let's change that.

xoxo,
David

PS (For those still heartbroken by the news, look at my "virtual spring cleaning" this way. Things are only going to be improving. The writing will be better. Content will properly organized and easy to find. I'll be interacting with every reader on a more personal level. And I'll be giving away an UNBELIEVABLE prize to celebrate launch day, TBA. It's just my way of saying thanks, to you the reader, for sticking with me through the growing pains.)

Homophobia Is Contagious, Gay Isn't

2011-07-07T12:02:00.001-04:00

"You know what's fucked up? Everybody gets so homophobic. People, we need to cut that shit out 'cause everybody in this room got at least a gay cousin. Every last one of you got a gay cousin! You knew he was gay when y'all was kids. You was playing ball. He was jumping rope. He didn't turn gay. He was gay then. He just didn't have nobody to be gay with." - Chris Rock

That bit always makes me laugh because it's so true! I'm convinced that everyone has at least one person close to them that is gay. If you disagree with that statement either someone in your life is in denial about being gay or you yourself are denying that they are. I come from a pretty small family and even I have a gay cousin!

Look, I get it. A lot of people are scared of gay. They think it's an evil, disgusting, rebellious decision some weirdo made. They refuse to accept that being gay isn't a choice, but rather how they were born. It's a part of them - like their arms, that little bump on their nose, or their dry sense of humor. And personally, I'm ok with it. Gay doesn't bother me. Never has. Never will. So you're gay. So what? Someone telling me they are gay is like telling me they like sugar in their coffee. I don't care. It doesn't affect my life, nor our relationship. You're not my gay cousin Erik. You're just my cousin Erik. And we can hang. Why couldn't we hang? Because you're gay and I'm straight and people will talk? Fuck 'em.

My cousin was set to fly from New Zealand to NYC over the 4th of July weekend to visit me. I was excited to see him, especially given the fact that he lives on the other side of the planet and we're rarely able to get together. He was going to be in town for 4 days and I made plenty of plans to keep us entertained. While at the airport, I even scored us dates for that night - a girl with a gay bestie! Things couldn't be going more perfect, until I got the text message...

"Dude, aren't you worried people will think you're a fag?"

The text message came from a homophobic friend of mine. It instantly pissed me off. I wanted to reply with something equally as rude, but just sent a simple "no" to him. His homophobic issues weren't worth getting angry over and spoiling the holiday weekend. It's said that racism is taught and I feel homophobia is too. In fact, homophobia is contagious! And unlike gay, you can catch it.

What I wanted to tell him is that gay doesn't rub off on you just because you hangout with someone who is gay. I can't catch his gay like I could catch his head cold. And I like to think that the vast majority of society isn't ignorant enough to think that just because a straight person is friends with, or blood relatives with, a gay person that it doesn't automatically mean I have homosexual tendencies. Ignorance is contagious. Homophobia is contagious. Gay isn't.

Those are the things I wanted to say. But I know that unless or until someone close to him admits they are gay and he realizes they are the same person they've always been, he simply won't understand.

***NOTE***
Related post of interest: 2/12/08 - Coming Out Of The Closet

Just Say It!

2011-06-28T15:51:00.000-04:00

There are a lot of idiots/geniuses out there that shoot their mouth off (me being one of them). And I wish there was more of them.

Why? Because for every idiot/genius there are 1,000 other people that are terrified to say what they really want to say and should say! They're so scared of what other's will think and how they will be perceived for not conforming to popular opinion. They are worried they will be embarrassed, ridiculed, or shunned for speaking up.

And if they call you a jerk, so what?

Take it from someone who has never held back when it comes to sharing what's on his mind. There are far more people that admire my ability to speak my mind than those that loathe me for it.

I see this after I write a strongly opinionated post here on my blog. I will always get a half dozen e-mails or so from people that may have been too scared to leave a public comment saying they agree with me, but feel comfortable doing so privately. Although, maybe those that think I'm a jerk are just too scared to speak their mind (publicly or privately) and tell me? That could be the case too.

I'm not condoning being offensive. I'm condoning being real and honest. Of course sometimes being real and honest doesn't always sit well with others. But if you want transparency in your relationships (from business to love), that's the price you have to be willing to pay. Genuine, open communication is quite rare and that's very sad.

So to people like Kanye West who has stuck his foot in his mouth on numerous occasions, I applaud you.

I don't applaud you for saying moronic things, but rather for having the balls to actually say how you truly feel! Moronic or not.

Sure you may regret the words the minute they part from your lips. But don't ever regret the fact that you have the courage to speak your mind, something few have.

Fuck biting your tongue. It may lead to controversy and some may hate you for it, but at least what you have to say will be interesting. Interesting is hard to ignore.

Say what you think. Say what you feel. Say it clearly. Say it now. And say it without fear. Just say it!

Sharing Is Caring...Only If It's Of Value To Others

2011-06-22T09:12:00.003-04:00

I subscribe to the belief that sharing is caring...only if it's of value to others. That second part is the key. Only share if it's valuable to others.

A lot of people don't grasp that second part. (I'll admit that I often struggle with it.) They don't understand the line between interesting/fun/useful and irrelevant/nonsensical/pointless rambling. I think that's because value is like beauty, it's in the eye of the beholder. So to determine whether or not what you're sharing is valuable, you only need to ask one important question. Is what I'm sharing benefiting anyone other than myself?

Because there are times when what you're sharing isn't relevant to anyone other than yourself, your own ego! You're not creating value. You're creating noise! And in a world where everyone is suffering from information overload and pressed for time, what you're really doing is being inconsiderate and downright annoying to others. For those too narcissistic to realize and/or care, life isn't all about ME, ME, ME! Most people, for the most part, don't care about you. I know, that hurts. But ride that sting out for a minute and let it soak in.

Take Twitter for example. Why must people Tweet their own blog post 2, 3, 4, 5 times or more a day! We get it. You wrote a new post and we're proud of you. Now if we want to read it chances are we already subscribe to your RSS feed or clicked on the link you Tweeted the first time around. But to repeat Tweet over and over again, it just seems so pushy and screams "look at me!" Are these people starving for attention? Did they miss a couple hugs growing up? I don't know what the deal is, but I really wish it would stop already. And don't even get me started on people that obsessively ReTweet old content they wrote from weeks, months, even years ago! Every blog has an Archive and every idiot with a half a brain knows how to browse through it. In other words, spamming out your own content isn't cool or appreciated. So shush.

After all, statistics say that over 70% of Tweets are ignored. That means chances are nobody is reading what you're Tweeting anyway! And regardless of how many Twitter Followers you believe are hanging on your every word, the more narcissistic and spammy your Tweets become the more your Twitter stream is being muted in their TweetDeck. It leaves a bad taste in people's mouths when you shove your content down their throats, up to and over 3 meals a day!

I call this the "I don't give a shit if your life is busy what I have to say is important so pay attention to me right now damn it approach." Whatever method they use to shamelessy plug their work over and over again, the message remains the same. That message says, "I don't value your time but you should value what I wrote and read/comment/share immediately!" I understand that everyone in this life wants to be heard and appreciated. And the competition to be heard and appreciated is fierce, especially online! But if you don't get the response you were hoping for it may just mean people are busy and haven't opened their Google Reader yet. Or they read it, but didn't find it valuable enough to comment and/or share. And that's ok. Not everything you write will be gold. You're not Hemingway. You're a blogger. So check yourself.

While your fragile digital ego may be hurt, it's really your ego that got you into this mess to begin with! So you really can’t blame anyone for unsubscribing, unfriending, or unfollowing people online. There is simply too much noise. And that noise leads to the crumbling of one’s sanity! Less noise. More sanity. Less social media. More living. Overall, more value!

~~If you like this post~~ If you found this post of value, consider commenting and/or ReTweeting.

Dare To Be Ridiculous

2011-06-14T12:02:00.002-04:00

"Appreciate the gift in exquisite detail, turn it over in your mind like a treasure unexpected. Let yourself be overcome by the miracle of it, that you stumbled on something divine in human form, and took it all the way into your heart. Go ahead, be ridiculous. Let the smallest thing mean everything. Forget about being rational and classifying this experience in any particular category. You’ll miss out on something amazing if you do that, and trust me, you don’t want to miss it." - Jen Lemem on Love

I stumbled upon Jen's blog recently and read an entry in which she admitted that she falls in love over and over again and didn't realize that NOT falling in love was one of her options. She then challenged someone to write a post for her about how NOT to fall in love since she said she clearly had no idea how to do that. So as someone who doesn't fall in love easily or often, I was quick to accept her challenge. And then I remembered that the last time I told myself I wasn't going to fall in love (or even develop the smallest of feelings), I fell hard.

It's a given. Love turns you into a crazy person. I'm a firm believer that those who have never felt crazy have never been in love. Love will have you thinking irrationally, speaking irrationally, and doing irrational things.

"David, slow down. Break it off. Be realistic here. THINK!" That is what my inner voice says to me. First as a soft whisper. Then as a stern talking to. And finally it turns to boisterous yelling!

There is no other area in my entrepreneurial life where I would ever listen to my inner voice telling me to "be realistic." So why in the world would I entertain the thought of "realistic" when it comes to love! But I do. And chances are you do too. The good news is that love won't permit it. Love silences that inner voice because love doesn't like sensible. Love loves ridiculous! Be thankful that it does because otherwise you would miss out on something amazing. And trust us when we say, you don't want to miss it.

You have to take chances in life - in everything from business to love. You have to put yourself out there and do something that scares you. Something that doesn't fully make sense, even to you! You have to say "I know this is ridiculous, but I want to see what happens."

And what's so wrong about being ridiculous anyway? Some of my best mistakes came from me being ridiculous. That's right. I said MY BEST MISTAKES.

So go ahead. Dare to fall in love. With someone else, with your yourself, with your work, with your wildest dreams. Dare to be ridiculous.

How To Cope With Ideas That Never Materialize

2011-06-01T12:07:00.004-04:00

Today was supposed to be a big day! I was going to unveil a project I have been quietly working on for the past 6 months. But today is an awful, no good, very bad day. Late last night I discovered the project (THE ENTIRE IDEA) I had been working on had been stolen 2 months ago! And just like that, in that single moment, all my excitement, all my hope, all my creativity, all my hard work, all my heart was crushed. Now I'm left feeling completely unmotivated. Just blah.

Ideas are relatively worthless without need, passion, opportunity, execution, team work, and follow-through. That is exactly why I'm feeling relatively worthless right now.

I know what I'm supposed to do. I'm supposed to pick myself up, brush that dirt off my shoulder like a pimp and push forward. But instead I keep lying here, face down in the dirt. And I keep grinding that dirt between my teeth unable to decide if I'm more pissed off or sad about the whole thing. Self-pity is a waste of time and energy. So I refuse to waste anymore time or energy than the 6 months I already have.

While it's not possible they actually "stole" the idea because I hadn't told a single soul about my project, sometimes great minds just think alike and they beat you to the finish line. At this point, me competing would look unoriginal. I would be seen as the copycat. That's not sexy.

I always refer to any of my entrepreneurial endeavors as "my baby" and this feels like my baby was ripped from my arms! So today on Launch Day, June 1st, I'm left with a completely blank slate. I have to start all over again and I'm not sure I really want to anymore. Because birth is long and painful.

How do you reignite passion? How do you deal when you've invested so much of yourself and see zero return? How do you cope with ideas that never materialize?

And how do I even begin to accept the fact that lack of perseverance wasn't ever my problem. That simply a roadblock went up preventing me to persevere further. To me, a roadblock isn't an acceptable excuse for failing.

In A Good Place

2011-05-25T11:41:00.000-04:00

I'm writing this post in the dark. Well, by candlelight to be exact. Also, by the white glare of my MacBook Air. It sounds kind of romantic. And a little geeky. Mostly, it sounds like me.

A big rig hit a transformer and knocked the power out to over 42,000 homes in my area. (Those who can't drive have no business being on the road, let alone behind the wheel of a giant truck! But I digress.) My world has been silent for exactly 3 hours now. By the time I publish this post, it will be morning. And with it, light. But for now I sit here in the absence of light and reflect. Ironic isn't it? The entire definition of reflection is to cast light on something, to show or mirror oneself. However, it's only in the dark, the physical dark, that I am able to see myself.

I feel indifferent. Or rather, I'm different. I'm back to being me again.

I'm no longer emotionally attached to any girl.
I'm no longer trying to impress any clients.
I'm no longer doing stupid/crazy shit strictly to get a cheap laugh from any of my friends.
And I'm no longer longing for either of my parents to validate me.

I'm ok with where I am. Who I am. What I'm willing to offer. And of how much I'm willing to take.

Actually, I'm more than ok. I'm in a good place. A simple place. An effortless place. A free place. A light place.

Sometimes you have to spend time in the dark before you can fully appreciate being in the light...and to recognize how good it feels to finally be back in it.

I'm in a good place. And I hope you are too.

Do Something. Do Anything.

2011-05-17T09:44:00.035-04:00

It's said the more you read, the better you'll write.

But lately, the more I read, the more inadequate I feel about my writing.

So the less I write.

And the less I write, the more unhappy and anxious I feel.

And the longer I go without writing, the greater the pressure is to write something amazing!

And when I place pressure on myself to write something amazing, writer's block arrives.

So to pass the mental barrier, I read some more.

And the entire cycle repeats itself.

I'm going to do some bad work. That's what this post is - bad work. But it's something. It's a start.

Do something. Do anything.

Write.

My Guest Post: F*cking Perfect

2011-05-10T10:23:00.063-04:00

Recently Mehnaz Thawer asked me to write a Guest Post for her site Speak Softly And Carry A Red Pen. It's part of a new blog series she's running titled "Get Over It."

So I decided to write on a subject that many people struggle with including myself. Perfection. Wanting to be perfect. "F*cking Perfect." And berating yourself when you fall short.

Here is a small snippet...

"If you just look for what’s right – in others, in relationships, in yourself and your journey – you’ll always find it. It’s the same when looking for what’s wrong. It’s easy to find flaw when you’re actively searching for it. And it’s easy to find beauty when you’re actively embracing it, flaws and all."

Click here to read the full post.

Understanding Anger

2011-05-05T09:43:00.057-04:00

I boarded the crowded L Train and grabbed one of the few reaming seats. An NYU student sat down next to me. He started venting to his buddy about how he suspected his girlfriend of 2 years was cheating on him. He confronted her. She denied it. And promptly dumped him. I watched his jaw line protrude as he grinded his teeth and his knuckles turning white as he clinched his fists in anger. He dropped F bombs in every sentence, called her the B word and even the C word. Clearly he was angry.

An older couple takes their seat across from me. With their foldout maps, fanny packs and confused faces, it was easy to see they were first time tourists. The wife looked particularly uncomfortable and lost. A Muslim man sat down beside her. He was casually dressed - sported a full beard, a turban and a backpack. Most likely a native New Yorker and not a "terrorist" as the accusing eyes of the couple seemed to have labeled him. Their pupils darted at him and then back at one another in horror, as if they assumed he had a bomb stashed in his backpack and was planning to blow us all up. The Muslim man sat there peacefully and quietly reading the sports section of the newspaper. While the woman began to fidget nervously, sliding further from the man and closer to her husband. Disgusted. Lips tightly pursed. Clearly she was angry.

I decide now is a good time to shoot a couple quick e-mails off from my phone, weed through my voicemail and double check my schedule for the remaining half of the day. Of course this is the moment when my Droid decides it's going to lockup on me. This is the moment when it erases all my information and resets itself back to factory settings like the lemon it is. This is also the moment I realize too much of my life resides in and relies on a 4-inch device. And I want to throw it! Clearly I was angry.

In an attempt to deal with the anger bubbling up inside of me and all around me, I turn my iPod on to drown out the cursing NYU student. I close my eyes so I no longer have to bear witness to the racial profiling. And I tilt my head back and breathe deeply to relieve the tension headache I've instantly given myself. That's when it hits me. Anger isn't the problem here.

Anger is just a mask. It's a symptom of something deeper. It is never the problem. The real problem is hurt, fear, and/or frustration. And we wear anger to hide these emotions. Because somewhere in life we have been taught that draping ourselves in an ugly cloak of anger is somehow more attractive than showing hurt, fear or frustration. Apparently hurt, fear and frustration are hideous! Yes, these emotions must be concealed at all costs. That's where anger steps in.

The key to understanding anger is recognizing what the true underlying issue is.

The NYU student wasn't angry. He felt hurt. For not trusting.
The tourist wasn't angry. She felt fear. For not knowing if she could trust.
And I wasn't angry either. I felt frustrated. For trusting too much.

Not only is anger an ugly emotion, it's one of the hardest emotions to overcome. Because to get to the root of our anger we must dig deeper. And digging emotionally deeper into oneself is never a pretty or pleasant task. That alone makes me angry! Or is that really fear talking? Or maybe sadness speaking? After all, it's always easier to be mad than sad.

Think about it.

Technology or Privacy? Why You Can't Have Both!

2011-04-28T15:29:00.010-04:00

All technologies that in one way or another invade your privacy rest on the premise that the benefits of such breaches outweigh the demerits.

Read that again. Then one more time.

Example: Airport Screening. While some may object to having their naughty bits lightly groped, it saves lives. Period. And if you're boarding a plane with me, I want to hear your answer to TSA's question..."Is that a stick of dynamite in your pants or are you just happy to see me?" If you're not ok with answering that question and following protocol, then I suggest you don't bother flying. The same could be said when it comes to technology. If you aren't ok with giving up a little bit of your privacy, then I suggest you return to prehistoric times. Because if you're shocked and enraged when companies like Facebook, Google and Apple are outed for privacy issues, then you and I need to have a little talk.

You see, people want everything! They want the best of both worlds. Connivence and safety. Connection and privacy. The problem is you can't have it all. You can't have one without giving up a little bit of the other.

I will never understand why people fail to educate themselves, then get upset with someone else because of it. Technology is here to make your life simpler, easier, faster! It's not technology's job to educate you on how to use it. That is YOUR job. It's up to you to learn the ins and outs of a product or service. They provide the interface. You provide the know-how. Or learn-how fast before you suffer the consequences, which would be nobody's fault but your own.

As you've probably heard, both the iPhone and Android have been receiving heat for tracking users whereabouts.

Q: How is this done?
A: Via GPS.

Q: What is GPS?
A: Global Positioning System.

Q: What does it do?
A: Tracks your whereabouts.

Q: How does this get turned on?
A: YOU TURNED IT ON!

Q: Were you notified beforehand that it would track you?
A: YES!

Q: Did you read that warning?
A: NO!

If you don't want people to know what you're doing or where you're at, stop broadcasting it. Stop using modern technology. Stop using GPS. Stop using smartphones. Stop using Twitter. Stop using Facebook. And yes, even stop using Google. When you Google something online your browser's cookies and cache settings act no different than what Apple is doing with their iPhone's GPS. Both keep a log of where you've been. Why? Mostly for your connivence, to speed up the amount of time it takes to retrieve similar information the next time you are looking for it. The only reason that should anger anyone is if they are up to shady things and don't want someone else to find out. Cheating on your spouse perhaps? Engaging in illegal activities?

A girlfriend once hired a Private Investigator because she thought I was cheating on her. Turns out, he found nothing. And as a result, I no longer wanted anything to do with her. The point is this - even though I felt my privacy was invaded and was left disgusted by the entire matter, it didn't keep me from ever wanting to date again. Does the "ick feeling" stick with me? Yes. Am I less trusting now because of it? Yes. Did I eventually get over it? Yes. What I'm trying to say is that while some iPhone users may be pissed at Apple, their anger is misplaced. They should really be angry at themselves. Technology isn't to blame here. The user is. I'm willing to bet that the vast majority of those that are angry are only angry because they were up to no good to begin with! And/or they simply don't understand technology vs privacy and how the two will forever struggle to co-exist together. But in time they too will get over it and move forward.

The more connected we become, the more privacy we have to relinquish. It's just the nature of the beast. It's insane to think of abandoning the entire world of technology just to reclaim your privacy. We live in a world that is more connected than ever before and to disconnect yourself from it would be like...I don't know, turning Amish?

My Grandmother is 91-years-old. She has a cell phone, uses e-mail, subscribes to NetFlix and recently asked me if she should be on the "FacePage." She's learned to embrace technology instead of fight it. And she's currently working to understand both the benefits and repercussions from using it. Lack of knowledge breeds fear. So educate yourself if you're going to pick up a shiny new gadget and start flicking switches.

Fight Or Flight

2011-04-20T09:34:00.033-04:00

It is estimated that nearly 200 people jumped to their death from the WTC on 9/11. Many people have difficulty understanding how they could do that and why. I am not one of those people.

A few weeks ago I wrote a post titled "Preparing For The Moment To Come." It was about Aron Ralston, a mountaineer who was forced to choose between his limb and his life when his hand became trapped by a boulder weighing over 800 pounds. Long story short, Aron chooses life when he makes the difficult decision to cut off his own hand with a dull pocket knife in order to free himself. Although when I wrote that post, I left out part of the story - the personal side. I watched the movie with my sister and as time dwindled down and Aron's character needed to make the "limb of life" decision, I blurted out what I would do if I were in his shoes.

"I would use that pocket knife to stab myself in the heart."

I said it with certainty and without hesitation. She looked at me like I was stark raving mad! To me it seemed like a genius solution. But the minute it passed my lips, I knew that was a thought I should have kept to myself. It shocked and sadden her to know. She couldn't understand how such an outrageously violent and permeant act could even enter my head! For whatever reason, cutting off my hand just wouldn't occur to me, but killing myself would. And the way I saw it, I could either stand there and die the inevitable death, or I could take control of my fate. Cutting off your hand most likely would cause you to bleed a slow death. So why not just get it over with by taking the blade straight to the heart? But the more interesting question is...

For someone who has always been a fighter in life, why would I choose to flee?

The fight-or-flight response states that an acute threat to survival is marked by physical changes, including nervous and endocrine changes, that prepare a human or an animal to react or to retreat. The decision making process isn't based on careful analysis, but rather on pure instinct - an immediate reaction to the current situation. So I wonder...

What makes one person accept the inevitable? Another person to refuse acceptance of the inevitable? And yet another person to accept the inevitable, but control the pace and manner in which it arrives?

I'm Not Ready For A Baby

2011-04-13T14:54:00.003-04:00

Everyone knows that males mature slower than females. Even into adulthood, it's said that a man's maturity level is 5 years less than his actual age. Women reach full (mental/emotional) maturity at age 25. But men don't reach full (mental/emotional) maturity until age 30, or would that actually be 35? I don't know. I just know that fart noises are still funny to me and probably will be for some time. So when it comes to dating, a good rule of thumb is for women to date a few years older and for men to date a few years younger.

Nevertheless, by the time you enter your late 20s things start to change. One night stands and random hook-ups start to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. And girls you once dated are now announcing their engagements! If I learned anything from grade school it's that first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby carriage. While marriage at this point in my life is still somewhat frightening to me, it's nowhere near as terrifying as having a baby! Just typing that four letter curse word, baby, causes a little bit of pee to trickle down my leg.

I feel for women because they have a problem men don't have - a shortage of time. I know as women enter their late 20s their biological clock is tic-toking away. And many start feeling the pressure from family and friends to snag a guy, settle down and have that baby. Of course most guys in their age demographic are too busy giggling over farting noises to hear (or care) the tic-toking of her biological clock. And there lies the problem. People are often in different chapters of their life. So for people to assume you are ready and willing to start a certain phase of your life just because you "hit that average age" seems rather presumptuous and kind of rude. They fail to consider where you are in life or what you want out of life. And most importantly, what precedence (if any) will marriage, kids and career play in your life.

The truth is I don't know if marriage and kids are for me. Some day I would like to think so, especially since that is what society tells me is part of a full life. But for now, neither interest me. I'm currently married to my business. My Bulldog is my son. And I feel full.

Sometimes verbalizing what you want, or don't want, isn't enough. Sometimes you have to show people as well. I think I do a good job at being upfront and clear about my intentions, or lack thereof, but apparently my date the other night would disagree. Because despite my best efforts to make it perfectly clear I am in no way interested in anything even remotely serious, she had baby agenda on the brain! Babies are pretty much the only thing she talked about all night. So much so that the only way I could fake interest in the baby conversation is if I imagined the funny farting noise a baby sometimes makes. Or calculating how much further she would need to lean across our table in that dress before a nip slip would occur.

I bought a car with a backseat so small it is virtually useless for a reason. The reason - to send a subliminal message to every woman I date that I don't want any bald, toothless midgets in my near future. I hate family friendly restaurants, PG movies and ponies. I like my music loud and sexually explicit. I go out late. I don't come home early. And I WILL NOT sell my motorcycle!

I own a house, but that doesn't mean I want to start a family. It's more like a glorified bachelor pad and I plan on keeping it that way. It's not baby proof and that's how I like it. There's pointy edged furniture and hardwood floors, neither which are conducive to crawling but both are conducive to cranium cracking. I keep my water tank heater high enough to scold skin and I have a brick fireplace that contains REAL FIRE! If the risk of melting flesh isn't enough of a baby deterrent, let me also point out the section of open staircase without any railing. My leather couch did not come with a guarantee that it can withstand some dirty little monkey's soiled britches or that it's baby puke resistant. There's a wine cabinet at "kid cereal isle" eye-level and a empty shot glass from last night sitting by the sugar bowl. I keep my sharp knives on the edge of the kitchen counter. I purchase medicine without childproof caps. And stocked are a slew of poisons that are all easily accessible from various low level cabinets throughout the house.

After a shower, I've been known to walk around in only a towel for an extended period of time and on Monday nights I run with scissors (not at the same time though). I've eaten popcorn solely for dinner and once I drank myself to sleep. Candy has never fallen out of my pockets, but condoms have. I enjoy saying fuck out loud, hanging out with inappropriately dressed women and there may even be a porno left in the DVD player. Simply put - I'm not currently Dad of The Year material.

But despite my best efforts to not only tell her, but to also show her I'm not in that "baby stage" of my life yet by giving her a tour of my crib, it falls on deaf ears and blind eyes. She continues on and all I can think about is how I wish there was less talking and more sex. For a brief moment, I consider inviting her upstairs. Then I remember that's how babies are made. And I'm not ready for a baby. So I drive her home instead. And I write this post.

Respecting Silence

2011-04-06T09:58:00.076-04:00

I wrote this a week ago, saved it to draft, and never hit publish. Scared to let anyone read it. Ashamed of what I'm STILL doing/feeling and afraid of what all of you will think of me. Names like "pussy" or "psycho." Phrases like "holy shit dude let go already!" (All valid responses I might add.) So this past Sunday night, I deleted the post. And this week I realized what a hypocrite I am. I tell people that the posts you are most scared to write and push publish on are the ones that resonate most with readers! And they are the ones that help you grow as a writer and as a person. So if I'm going to preach that, I better live it myself. That's why I decided to rewrite this post and push publish. As they say on TMF Project, "FEAR EXPOSED!"

When she stumbles, my chest crumbles for her. When she's struggling, I want to help. When she's hurting, I want to hug. And when she's succeeding, I want to celebrate her by dancing on the nearest table and screaming "FUCK YEAH!" while popping champagne.

That morning I said a little prayer for her, sent her good thoughts. Or as some poetically refer to it - sent her light and love. Just like I did on the morning of March 29th. Just like I did on the morning of her birthday, on Christmas Eve, New Year's Eve, and even back on Valentine's Day.

But here's the thing. I don't pray. At all. For anyone, including myself.

Yet even to this day, I ask some greater power to rain smiles down on her in everything she does and everywhere she goes. It's as if my God appointed duty on this Earth is to make sure her heart feels full, regardless if I'm in it. And that her life is happy and blessed, regardless of who she invites in it. That I am to make certain she's content, all the while adhering to the difficult rule of respecting silence. If there is a God, perhaps that is his test for me? To let love liberate my soul.

So I stay to the back and off to the side while she takes center stage. Keeping my distance and keeping my mouth shut, respecting her wishes. Silently cheering and supporting. And sending light and love. Does it work? Does it even reach her? Does she even care to know I do this? I don't know. I do know that not admitting it doesn't make it any less true. I also know that respecting silence is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do!

I'm good at telling myself things. Like long ago when everyone around me said I was falling in love, I denied it, to them and to myself. I wanted to be in control of my emotions when it started. I wanted to be in control of my emotions when it ended too. And I attempted to do so by setting personal deadlines for how long I would permit myself to grieve...

Come tomorrow I'll be ok.
Come next week I'll be ok.
Come next month I'll be ok.
By New Years I'll be ok.

These deadlines would come and go. The pain would lessen with each passing day and I no longer had to tell myself the "I'll be ok" lie. I actually felt ok, at last! Then the package came in the mail. The one I sort of forgot would soon arrive (or tried blocking out of my mind). The one I had prepared for long ago by telling myself I would be totally fine by the time that day rolled around. Again, I lied. I told myself I could open it. I would be ok. But slicing through the first few inches of packaging tape was like slicing open an old wound. While I was incredibly proud and happy FOR her, I felt incredibly sad inside and even angry I couldn't share the joy WITH her. It's then I realized maybe I'm not ok after all. Close, 99.9% there. But that remaining .1% disgusts me. I disgust me! So I stop opening the package and slide it gentley under my bed, telling myself..."Come tomorrow I'll be ok."

Respecting silence isn't just about respecting the "quiet space" placed between you and someone you care/cared for. It's also about respecting yourself enough to fill the "noisy space" in your head with kinder, gentler thoughts about yourself. I'm working on that second part.

- DS

***NOTE***
For the first time in this blog's 6 year existence, the comment section on this post is closed. As a reader, I'm sure you have something to say. And that's exactly my point! To demonstrate just how frustratingly difficult it is respecting silence.

Preparing For The Moment To Come

2011-03-30T12:38:00.002-04:00

I believe everything in life happens for a reason, even if the lesson is unclear, it's still taught. I believe the more difficult and painful the lesson is, the more you learn from it. I believe the best lessons have the power to completely change our lives and move us entirely in a new direction. I believe Aron Ralston shares my beliefs.

Aron Ralston gained fame in 2003 after he became pinned by a half-ton boulder in a Utah canyoneering accident. Having told no one where he was going and no one around to hear his cries for help, he remains trapped alone in the canyon for nearly a week! With very limited food and water and no one coming to rescue him, Ralston struggles to keep his sanity and even documents a final goodbye to his family on a digital video camera he had been carrying. Realizing the inevitable, Ralston is forced to choose between his limb or his life!

Ralston choses life, surviving by amputating his own hand with a dull pocket knife! Without the luxury of pain meds, he breaks both bones in his arm and then saws away for over an hour at his hand - cutting through tendons, ligaments and muscle. Once freed, he then rappels 65 feet and hikes 7 miles to rescue.

Carnegie Mellon University alumnus Aron Ralston's incredible story has been, and continues to be, an inspiration to millions around the world. And because his tale is so remarkable, he's been asked to be the speaker at CMU's Commencement this May. His heroic story is also the subject of the film "127 Hours," starring James Franco. And of course the movie is based on Ralston's 2004 New York Times bestselling autobiography (appropriately titled), "Between A Rock and A Hard Place."

Just 27-years-old at the time, Aron Ralston's life would forever change in those 127 hours. And his reflection in those 127 hours would forever change the way I look at mine...

"You know, I’ve been thinking. Everything it...just comes together. It’s me. I chose this. I chose all this! This rock. This rock has been waiting for me my entire life. It’s entire life, ever since it was a bit of meteorite a million, billion years ago. In space. It’s been waiting, to come here. Right, right here. I’ve been moving towards it my entire life. The minute I was born, every breath that I’ve taken, every action has been leading me to this crack on the out surface."

Every person you've ever encountered.
Every decision you've ever made.
Every wince of pain you've ever felt.
Every struggle you've ever overcome.
Every tear you've ever shed.

It's all leading up to something. Something bigger than you can fathom. Something you currently may not feel prepared for and may fear. Perhaps something good. Perhaps something awful. Either way, something you've been moving towards your entire life. Something that will change you forever. Something that will make you believe you are here for a reason. That you serve a purpose on this Earth and you have a story to tell.

Every single thing that has ever happened in your life is preparing you for the moment that is to come. For a story that has yet to be written.

Money Matters

2011-03-22T11:19:00.016-04:00

Ever come across those blogs or books from people who try to get you all riled up about life? I won't name any names, but you know the ones. The ones that encourage you to quit your job (just like they did). Follow your passion (just like they did). Start your own business (just like they did). Travel the world (just like they did). And how you should clone your life after theirs because it's amazing and how on Earth would you not want to live this amazing life too! However, one lifestyle does not fit all. But let's pretend for a minute that the lifestyle I just described above does fit you. Or rather, you think it might fit you so you want to give it try. So you take the leap. You quit your job and you're free to full-time passion pursue. Good for you! But the most important question remains. The one they NEVER talk about. The one no one dares to EVER ask. The question...

So how much money are you making now?

"Oh, how rude! How could anyone ask such an impolite question or disclose such personal information?" That's what you say outloud, but in your head a very different dialog is going on. You're curious. You want to know. In fact, you NEED to know! How else are you going to live this wonderful life they are all preaching about if they refuse to reveal one of the most important details of all - MONEY!

Let's be serious. Money matters. Those that say money doesn't matter obviously don't need to eat food in order to sustain life. So quit the modern day hippie bullshit that money doesn't matter and life is all about being happy. Money matters and you know it matters. While money may not buy happiness entirely on it's own, it sure makes it a hell of a lot easier to smile when you have some. It puts a roof over your head, food in your belly and clothes on your back. So unless your idea of happiness consists of being naked, hungry and homeless, money matters.

I don't know about all of you, but personally I like money. I like not having to run calculations in my head as to whether or not I can afford to go out to dinner or see a movie on a whim. I like not having to put up with a roommate because I can swing my mortgage solo. I like buying furniture that comes preassembled and truck delivered rather than hauling a heavy Swedish cardboard box home filled with faux wood planks and tedious DIY instructions. And I like being able to buy the latest overpriced tech gadget on release day not because I need it, but because I can. I like money because I like freedom. The two go hand in hand. And it's that simple.

But what isn't simple is the secret to money. Or rather, how all these unconventional lifestyle livers are making money. I'm not referring to making a few bucks off some ebook or affiliate links either. I'm talking real money. Serious money or at least a respectable amount of it. Money that can sustain you comfortably. Keyword: comfortably. Because while I'm sure anyone can scrape by living an unconventional lifestyle, most of us don't want to "scrape by" in life. Scrapping by in life makes few people happy. And isn't THAT exactly what living an unconventional lifestyle is suppose to provide - happiness and freedom? And how do you get happiness and freedom? It's fueled by dollar bills, yo.

You should never let a lack of money stand in the way of your dreams, but at the same time, you should never let your dreams cloud the fact that money matters. Being able to eat matters. Money is one of those taboo topics no one wants to talk about, but if you're thinking of taking the leap to unconventional living, you need to get a realistic money conversation started. I would be curious what these people made in their previous conventional lifestyle when compared to their current unconventional lifestyle. Are they living in their parent's basements or a van down by the river? Do they have money for health benefits, investments, savings and retirement? Have they racked up a crazy amount of credit card debt? Are they too proud to admit to having a 2nd secret job with a steady paycheck? More than likely, there are a whole slew of other unglamorous secrets they aren't telling you in their personal manifestoes. They never disclose anything relating to money, which is why it's easy to get caught up in the inspiring soapbox chants and glossy bubble of it all. Plus, everyone loves a rebel!

But sometimes you need to distance yourself to see things clearly, to put life in proper perspective. You need to know if this lifestyle is livable, if you need to embrace a side hustle, or if you need to crawl back to your 9-5 grind in order to fill your empty stomach with vital nutrients. If life has taught us anything it's that for every success story there are hundreds of others that have failed. So there's a good chance you'll become a statistic as opposed to an inspiring tale of unconventional living. I don't say that to be a pessimist and to squash your dream. I say it because some people need to wakeup! And nothing will wake you up faster than money matters.

***NOTE***
Related post of interest: 12/7/10 - Top 10 Cold Hard Truths About Entrepreneurship

Life Lists - Motivating Or A Catalyst For Anxiety?

2011-03-15T16:16:00.003-04:00

"Confront your fears. List them. Get to know them. And only then will you be able to put them aside and move ahead." - Jerry Gillies

I'm a man of lists. To-Do lists, shopping lists, idea lists, lists of lists to be made (not a joke). Lists are good. They keep us organized and focused by prioritizing tasks and breaking down work loads into small manageable chunks. They help us set goals and push us to accomplish those goals. They're simply handy and effective. Although for some, they're simply a catalyst for anxiety - a daunting reminder of all that we have yet to do in a small window of time that is constantly shrinking by the minute! (Just writing that sentence caused my chest to tighten.)

If you're like most people, you have have two lists going on any given day - a To-Do List for work and a To-Do List for home. And if you're like most bloggers, you have two more lists - a 101 Things You Didn't Know About Me list and a Life List. Notice there is no link for my Life List. Why? Because writing one somewhat terrifies me! Ok, that's not entirely true. The actual writing part is rather fun, but it's that nagging "what if" question in the back of my mind while writing it that paralyzes the pen in my hand. That "what if" I fail to check off item #24, #31 or #86? "What if" I fall short of meeting all of my life goals? Will my life have been a failure? I realize that sounds overly dramatic and I realize that one can lead a full life even if they never climbed Mount Everest. Still, I'm left wondering if my time would be better spent writing down a list of fears that I need to overcome rather than a list of big life goals I want to complete?

When I read other people's Life Lists, again I wonder. And I can't help but think that some are for entertainment purposes only. Something to give the appearance that they are more motivated than they truly are. Or an attempt to paint an image of their future so it appears more glamourous and exciting than they really plan on making it. The whole idea of creating a Life List is to inspire and motivate you to do great things! But you have to question if these Life Lists are being taken seriously or if they're just another blogging fad.

Shortly after the movie The Bucket List came out, I've wanted to write my own Bucket List/Life List. I made mental notes of a few items such a list would entail, but never put pen to paper. Writing things down makes it feel concrete, cementing me to my words. Like ink etchings in skin, it's a permeant reminder and nearly impossible to erase. So those written words become a part of me, forever bound to me. And in this case, that scares me. Terrifies is more like it! Life Lists may be helpful, but they are also bittersweet. Checking off an item comes with a sense of pride and a welcomed sigh of relief, but failing to complete an item is often met with disappointment and a touch of despair.

I've always joked that the #1 item on my List List is...#1 Write a Life List. Of course that's not entirely true. Actually the #1 item on my list is "Say I love you first." As for the rest of the list, well right now that's being stored privately in my head, or at least for the time being.

I subscribe to the belief that you should do something everyday that scares you. So perhaps writing down a list of my biggest fears and confronting them is step #1, list item #1. With that said, take this post as a introduction to my Life List, an introduction to my fears.

What is the #1 item on your Life List? What is your #1 fear?

Come Prepared...And When The Worst Happens, Adapt

2011-03-10T10:43:00.010-05:00

I never liked the phrase "prepare for the worst" because anyone who has ever faced the worst knows that there is no preparing for it. That's why it's called "the worst!" And the worst always arrives with it's cousin - the element of surprise. Together they are a deadly combo, but a combo you don't need to fear. Instead you just need to adapt. That's why my motto is "Come Prepared...And When The Worst Happens, Adapt."

I work in an industry (run a Network Security Consulting company) where I calm a client's biggest fears by safeguarding them from an attack. I do my best to prepare them. But as you know, bad shit often happens to good people. And when the worst happens, as it sometimes will, I show them how to adapt.

Now comes the metaphors...

I recently took my company (all whopping 6 employees) on a team building/bonding session. We went snowboarding. Initially the idea was just to get everyone out of the office, unplugged and relaxed. The only objective was to have some fun. But as the day went on, obstacles presented themselves and tiny tragedies occurred. It turned into a giant learning experience with metaphors popping up everywhere! Lessons that could be applied on the slopes, in the workplace, in love and in life.

Metaphor #1 - If You Find Yourself Spinning Out Of Control, Dig In
The snow report said 40 degrees with packed powder. They lied. It was more like 40mph winds with packed ice! Mother Nature was calling the shots which meant you had virtually no control over your body or your board. The strong wind gusts and the sheets of ice slid you onto trails you didn't intend on taking and over mountains you didn't intend on toppling down. Although as any snowboarder knows, to regain control you must dig your edge in harder. And isn't that the best way to regain control over any situation when the Universe has you spinning? You have to dig in, claw away at a problem until you find your sure footing and can stand on your own again. On the slopes, in the workplaces, in love and in life.

Metaphor #2 - Things Will Fall Apart, Make Due With The Pieces
Just 5 minutes into the trip and the toe strap on my bindings snapped. While upsetting, I wasn't going to let it ruin everything and dictate how the rest of the day went. As I looked at the plastic and rubber coated 6 inch strap lying in the snow, I realized how symbolic it was. You just never know when something will fall apart - a professional relationship, a personal relationship, a toe strap. And sometimes you can't mend things. You just have to make due with the remaining pieces. On the slopes, in the workplace, in love and in life.

Metaphor #3 - When Someone Crashes, Extend A Hand
Even experienced snowboarders fall in these types of conditions. You would think extending your hand to someone lying flat on their face would be a no-brainer. But most of us wiz on by because we know they are capable of getting up on their own, or at least assume the injury isn't great enough to prevent them from recovering solo. In other words, the best of us fall. And when we do, while we may not always need a hand or feel embarrassed to take a hand, it sure is nice if one is offered. To know that at least one person cares, especially when the rest of the world doesn't seem to. On the slopes, in the workplaces, in love and in life.

It's inevitable, you're going to hit icy patches in life. Things are going to fall apart and you are going to crash every now and then. But you can make it over those mountains. Just come prepared...and when the worst happens, adapt.

Elephant In The Room

2011-03-02T11:40:00.004-05:00

Spoiler Alert #1 - This post is deeply personal.
Spoiler Alert #2 - It's about Cancer.
Spoiler Alert #3 - If you read it, you'll walk away finally knowing the true meaning of life! Ok, not really. But you'll walk away with a new zest for your life.

Webster tells me Cancer isn't capitalized. But if you ask me, every letter in it should be capitalized.

CANCER.

That is how I see it. Big. Bold. Blaring. Black.

Not with uncertainly, question mark. And not with panic, exclamation mark. But stated as a fact, period. Or at least that is how I see Stage 4 Cancer.

Like an elephant in the room, it demands attention. CANCER. Its demand for attention is rather ironic considering the fact that a late stage cancer diagnosis usually results from one's lack of attention. Whether you ignored family history, physical symptoms, or simply that feeling in your gut that says something doesn't seem right and you should go get checked out just to be safe…hearing the word Cancer is an ugly ~~slap~~ full fist punch in the face reminder that time is of the essence. What's even more ironic is that I got the news just minutes after I pushed publish on a post titled For Every Minute. In it I give examples of how much time we waste and how that time could be better spent. For example: "For every minute you are angry, you lose 60 seconds of happiness."

Time is beyond precious and poorly distributed. What we do with our time truly defines the life we live, not to mention our level of satisfaction and happiness. Of course whenever anyone makes a blanket statement like that people immediately feel guilty like they should be doing more with their time and begin cramming even more crap into their life. So we set more goals, take on more projects, make more hollow connections and spread ourselves thinner than ever! Life is about quality, not quantity. Life is not a race to see how much shit one can accumulate, how many titles one can obtain, or how many people know your name.

Now this is the part where I'm supposed to get really deep and tell you the true meaning of life. And this is also the part where I stare at the blinking cursor on my screen because I can't find the right words. Or more honestly, I don't know the answer. Because you see, I'm just like everyone else. I too am figuring it out as I go along.

When there's an elephant in the room, introduce him.

For those that don't know, Stage 4 Cancer is basically a death sentence - bluntly stated. A friend of mine (someone I used to date in high school) has just been diagnosed with Stage 4 Breast Cancer. It has spread throughout her body. She has a husband and a new baby. And she is not opting for treatment. Instead of having half her body dissected and undergoing heavy chemo, she has chose to spend her remaining time doing the things she loves with the people she loves. She's choosing to live her life to the fullest. The way she says she should have been living all along. The way we all should be living, elephant or not. Everyday. Always. And Forever.

If the doctor gave you 3 months to live, what would you do with the time? Why aren’t you doing that now, that thing that makes you ridiculously happy? What’s the first thing you worry about when you wake up in the morning? Why don't you eliminate it? What have you left unsaid? Why don't you say it? What haven't you done? DO IT!

"The key question to keep asking is, are you spending your time on the right things? Because time is all you have." - Randy Pausch (The Last Lecture)

The Power Of Words

2011-02-21T10:01:00.008-05:00

Written or spoken, words are continuously propelling us through life. They lift us up or drag us down. They wound us deeply or heal our hearts. Words have the power to break confidences, build life long alliances, or start wars. Words shape us both as individuals and as a society. Compliments. Criticisms. Introductions. Goodbyes. Words of love. Words of hate. Words you hang on. Words you easily dismiss. Words you never want to forget. And words you struggle forgetting. Words change worlds. That is the power of words.

We seek control over every single aspect of our lives. But when it comes to choosing our words, we often lose self-control. Controlling what we say, especially when emotions become elevated, is a problem most of us combat daily. Despite our best intentions, it can be difficult to refrain from saying words we know will only harm. Surely it is easier to harness the power of a wild horse than to reign in your tongue. To say the right thing at the right time, but to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment.

We may have the right to free speech, but speech is not entirely free. Whether we realize our impact or not, there are always consequences for what we say...and often consequences for what is left unsaid. The most damaging and life altering of all words is gossip. As my 91-year-old Grandmother recently said to me, "The biggest problem with gossip is you never know for sure who started it, why and when (if ever) it will end. It's a vicious cycle and there is little you can do to stop it or set the story straight because people will say what they want to say and believe what they want to believe. You're powerless." Powerless. If humans seek control over every single aspect of their lives, one word they don't want to hear is "powerless."

My Grandmother knows all too well the power of words. In 1945 she divorced, something that was unheard of in those days. Now living alone, she looked for someone to share laughs with and found friendship in another woman, a widow with grown children. The two became fast pals and were nearly inseparable! That was until a vicious rumor started spreading around her small town that the pair were more than friends. That they were a couple! Of course neither were lesbians. But those words devastated my Grandmother so much that she tried to escape by moving to a neighboring town and began slowly breaking off her friendship with "I'm sorry, I can't, I'm busy" excuses. Eventually the friendship died. And so did the woman. My Grandmother never told her what people had been saying because she didn't want her to feel the same hurt she did.

Of course years later the truth came out. There was never any rumor. My Grandmother's co-worker was simply jealous of the friendship she shared with this other woman and wanted to sever their ties. So she told my Grandmother that lesbian rumor was going around fully knowing how devastated she would be and that it would cause her to cut the friendship. Basically, she was played like a puppet. That is the power of words.

Words are things. Living things. Cut them and they bleed. The words from our minds or from others have the power to define us...if we let them.

Words are things. Choose good ones.

Indifferent

2011-02-14T18:48:00.023-05:00

Today is Valentine's Day. And I'm not going to write about love.

I'm indifferent to Valentine's Day this year. Not happy/excited. Not sad/depressed. Not filled with love. Not filled with hate. Just indifferent.

Nearly every February 14th since I was 14, I've had a girlfriend. I recently realized that I've been with someone more than I've been on my own. And I don't know if I'm ok with that. I like "me time." I like being Perfectly Lonely. And I rarely feel lonely when I'm alone. In fact, there have been times I've felt more lonely WITH someone than WITHOUT them. That I'm not ok with.

It seems like there's always some girl/s in the picture. The last "relationship" I was in started less than a week after my previous relationship had ended! And despite me being completely honest and upfront by saying I wasn't looking to get into anything serious, somehow feelings started to sprout up and things got messy and...well, you know how it goes.

Valentine's Day is one of those days people either love or loathe. There never seems to be an inbetween. I feel inbetween. I feel indifferent.

I never understood why girls want everyone to jump on their bandwagon. If they are in love, they want all their besties to find love too. And if they are single, they want all their besties to hate on men/love/relationships too, to despise Valentine's Day like a red-headed stepchild. (Misery loves company?) Then there are those that like to exercise their "I am woman, hear me roar" girl power to it's fullest. They proudly shout from the mountain tops that they are happy riding solo and wouldn't want it any other way. Maybe that is true for some, but I have a hard time believing that the vast majority truly feel single and fabulous. Instead, I believe they are too ashamed to admit they aren't Perfectly Lonely, but rather just lonely. Period. At least on this day.

Single guys aren't much better. They give their buddies a hard time who have girlfriends - constantly saying how much more fun they would have if they played the field more instead of being tied down to one girl. Personally, I think everyone should just leave everyone else alone. Stop pushing love. Stop pushing hate. Stop the parade. Stop the pity. Just stop.

I'm not writing anyone a love letter. I'm not sending anyone flowers. I didn't go shopping for a platinum and diamond surprise. And I didn't even make dinner reservations at any dimly lit pricey restaurant. Instead, I've given myself a gift. The gift of indifference. And it feels pretty fucking good! It feels good to no longer feel.

Yes, today is Valentine's Day and I couldn't care less. It's just another day to me. Although if you're struggling to cope today, then let this beautiful poem and video be my Valentine's Day gift to you - How To Be Alone.

Happy Valentine's Day to the single and fabulous. To the single and not feeling so fabulous. To the Perfectly Lonely. And to those who are just feeling lonely, period. David got love for ya.

What Are You Proud Of?

2011-02-09T00:24:00.003-05:00

What are you proud of?

Can you spit out an answer right off the top of your head? Or do you need more time to think about it?

I recently was asked this question in an e-mail and drew a complete blank! So much so that I closed my laptop and stepped away for a few hours, racking my brain to come up with an answer, all the while realizing this was a problem. No one should have this much difficulty feeling proud of themselves. I even Googled "things people are proud of" in hopes I would find a connection. Something that triggered by brain and made me say, "Hey, I'm proud of that too!"

A few hours later I sat down and opened the laptop back up. I started to form my reply, but deleted what I wrote when I realized I was talking about stupid things, like being proud of my Bulldog for knowing how to skateboard. Or about other people I am proud of and not myself. Again, I realize this is a problem. I don't hesitate when it comes to supporting and praising other people (or dogs), but when it comes to myself, I'm silent. That needs to change. And so the internal dialog began...

So what am I proud of? While part of me is sadden that I struggle answering, another part of me is happy that I do struggle because that means I remain humble. Neither of my parents have ever told me they were proud of me for anything. As a kid, and even as an adult, you look for that approval. And as a son, you need to hear it mostly from your Dad.

I may never hear the words "I am proud of you." I accept that. In fact, I embrace that because it has led me to be fiercely competitive in everything I do from sports to business. Seeking that approval has caused me to push myself far beyond my expectations and has opened up a world of limitlessness to me that I don't think I could have seen had I not ached for their approval. I've come to realize that the opinions of others doesn't make you or break you. It is only the opinion of myself, making myself proud that matters. That is what I'm proud of - that realization.

What are you proud of?

For Every Minute

2011-02-04T08:38:00.023-05:00

Time is the one thing in life you can't ever get back. And as humans, we waste a lot of it. The older you get and the busier you become, the faster time flies! It's always moving forward and tic-tocing away. And you never really know when your time is up. God forbid you read this post, step outside and get hit by a bus! But it could happen. So it's important to use your time wisely. To make every minute of your life count - right now.

"For every minute you are angry, you lose 60 seconds of happiness." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Such a simple message to adopt, but yet we often stray from doing so. I started thinking about that quote, about all the time we waste and how that time could be better spent. Here are a few of the ways I've come up with to help you manage every minute more efficiently...

For every minute you waste being consumed by that anger, you could spend working toward forgiveness.

For every minute you waste pointing blame, you could spend taking accountability for your share.

For every minute you waste living in silence, you could spend talking it out.

For every minute you waste talking, you could spend listening.

For every minute you waste holding a grudge, you could spend letting go.

For every minute you waste plotting revenge, you could spend planning resolve.

For every minute you waste on regret, you could spend learning from your mistakes.

For every minute you waste beating yourself up, you could spend patting yourself on the back.

For every minute you waste reminiscing, you could spend moving forward.

For every minute you waste holding it in, you could spend letting it out.

For every minute you waste crying, you could spend smiling.

For every minute you waste in a funk, you could spend in laughter.

For every minute you waste feeling unloved, you could spend loving yourself a little bit more.

For every minute you waste suffering in pain, you could spend seeking pleasure.

For every minute you waste staying with someone you only kinda like, you could spend with someone you really love.

For every minute you waste hating your reflection in the mirror, you could spend complimenting yourself.

For every minute you waste comparing yourself to others, you could spend admiring all that you already have.

For every minute you waste complaining, you could spend changing things.

For every minute you waste wishing, you could spend doing.

For every minute you waste playing it safe, you could spend saying "fuck you" to fear.

For every minute you waste conforming, you could spend starting a revolution.

For every minute you waste doubting yourself, you could spend believing in yourself.

For every minute you waste accepting a "no," you could spend fighting for a "yes."

For every minute you waste dismissing a new idea, you could spend giving it a chance.

For every minute you waste casting judgement, you could spend practicing acceptance.

For every minute you waste spreading gossip, you could spend making a new friend.

For every minute you waste speculating, you could spend giving the benefit of the doubt.

For every minute you waste tearing someone apart, you could spend building a billion different things.

For every minute you waste telling lies, you could speak the truth.

For every minute you waste cheating your way to the top, you could spend earning respect.

For every minute you waste on greed, you could spend on appreciation.

For every minute you waste acting selfish, you could spend acting selfless.

For every minute you waste stressing, you could spend meditating.

For every minute you waste trying to impress, you could spend being authentic.

For every minute you waste protecting your heart, you could spend following it.

For every minute you waste stuck at idle, you could spend living your life to the fullest!

And the list goes on and on. What would you add to it?

Fucking Feelings!

2011-02-02T01:13:00.014-05:00

There should be a limit to what a person can emotionally feel, similar to reaching your physical threshold of pain. A cutoff limit. A point you reach where the heart just become instantly numb, protecting itself from further hemorrhaging. An "ok that's enough now" level, like a bloody cornerman's towel being tossed into the fight ring to signal the man is done. Unfortunately for me, there is a malfunction. The alarm that is supposed to go off when all your fucking feelings start reaching dangerous toxic levels hasn't sounded. The automatic shutoff value that locks into place when it senses the brain can no longer endure such emotional trauma without rending one clinically insane has snapped. And that 10-inch thick giant concrete barrier that should be dropping into place to shield me right about now has somehow become lodged.

I am disgusted by my own emotions, overflowing months later when I should have damned up the hole by now. I mean, really. What's my problem! I'll be the first to admit it's ridiculous, pathetic and beyond embarrassing. And I feel so stupid! Sooo, sooo stupid! I'm physically strong, but emotionally weak. She makes me weak. And I'm not too proud to say it. There's no rational explanation as to why a tiny little thing that was said has stirred up a hurricane of emotion inside me. Big waves of feelings, fucking feelings, come crashing back in just when I think the storm has passed. It hits me in the chest and shallows my breath. It causes my hands to tremble and nausea begins to rock from side to side in my stomach as if I was a sailor lost at sea. Like I said, there's no rational explanation for the symptoms I'm experiencing. Well, except for one. But I don't like saying the word. And I'm working hard at convincing myself that is just a figment of my imagination. That I've blown it out of proportion and it isn't real. My own personal reality check.

When I first met her, I said to myself "this is someone I always want to have in my life." I didn't know in what form that would be, whether it be a friend or a girlfriend. I just knew my life was so much happier with her in it. I felt like a better version of myself with her around. I was funnier, smarter, more charming. I felt this connection that I never felt with anyone else before in my life! And I didn't want it to ever go away. I didn't want her to ever go away. And when she did, I just...I don't know. It's been hard. Harder than I imagined it would be. Harder than perhaps it should be. And definitely harder than what I wish it to be.

Few people in life have the gift to make me smile like she did. That is why it sucks so bad not having her around. It's like not having my smile. I don't care if she knows that. I don't care if she has that power over me. Because not admitting to something doesn't make it any less real. It doesn't weaken the fact. And living in denial certainly doesn't make pain magically disappear.

I often wonder if today we both would have been better off for not letting it go so far, if we kept messy feelings at bay. That way I could at least still have her as a friend. Now I have nothing. It feels like I'm mourning the death of a best friend more so than mending a broken heart. That is just one of the many things I miss - the mere friendship. But that's life I suppose. The heart can't always have what it wants. And sometimes what the heart wants isn't always best for it. I'm working hard on accepting that, not 100% there yet.

Feelings are SUCH a fucking nuisance! No truer words have ever been spoken. Although maybe it's not some lingering feelings that are eating away at me. Maybe it's just my new vegan diet that is talking. That would explain why I'm trapped in a glass case of emotion because my body is meat deprived. Men eat meat. I haven't been. So when you start eating like a woman, you start acting like one. Clearly, that's it. Because it can't be that other thing, right? Right?

Regardless of what it is, I want someone to throw a bloody cornerman's towel into the fight ring on my behalf so I can live to fight another day. Actually, I don't want to fight. I just want to live...without any fucking feelings.

And if I could bite into a big juicy steak, I would be pretty ok with that too.

***NOTE***
Related post of interest: 9/8/10 - You're A Grown Ass Man!

Love Liberates

2011-01-25T13:12:00.017-05:00

When you were a child and someone at the playground said or did something mean to you, your feelings were hurt - naturally. Most of us reacted by saying or doing something mean right back. We got even. But we didn't grow. And as a result, we took that same immature playground mentality and applied it to our adult relationships. It's most prevalent after a breakup. I can't tell you how many friends have said to me "you should hate her, she's a bitch" after a breakup. Or how many times I've said the same to them after they've broken up with someone. Friends say these things to each other because they believe that's how support should be shown, rally in numbers. Take your friend's side and gang up on the "meanie" who hurt them. In our fucked up heads, we believe this shows loyalty. We believe this shows our love. But what it really shows is immaturity. It's detrimental to the healing process and it stunts emotional growth.

You're not empowering them. You're crippling them. You're telling them to replace love with anger, joy with pain. How is that helpful? How is that healing? How can you grow from that? It's not healthy. And it's flat-out wrong!

I never understood why my friends think it's in my best interest to hate someone I once deeply cared for (and maybe still do or always will care about). Why do I have to put them down just to bring myself up? Why do I have to hate them just to love myself? My friends get angry with me when I defend someone who they feel has done me wrong. They don't understand it. They think I'm being a doormat or that I refuse to let go. But that's not it at all. In fact, it's the exact opposite. I feel stronger for not hating them. I've never benefited from hate in my life. To hate someone is exhausting! But to love them (although it may be in a different capacity), that's energizing! That's freeing. That's healing. That how you facilitate growth.

Although it's easy to revert back to the playground mentality and spiral down that black hole of bitterness. Perfect example: My niece is in first grade. She's the happiest kid you've ever seen, but her face dropped recently when she told me about a boy in school that is calling her names. My immediate reaction was of course anger. I tried to block the tears that were about to flow down her chubby kid cheeks by calling the boy some names right back. "Oh don't listen to him. He's a stupid poop head and no one likes him anyways."

But before I could offer any more of my "bully advice," my Grandma chimed in. "You know what you do, Mia? When that boy calls you a mean name you just smile at him. Smile so big and so bright. You smile at him and say something nice in return, like I really like your hair today. I guarantee you it will change how he acts." Basically, she wanted her to kill him with kindness. My Grandmother has always been on another level than the rest of us. And she has always reminded me a of white Maya Angelou. The way she looks. The way she speaks. And most of all, her wisdom. Which is why I love this quote from Maya Angelou. I feel my Grandmother woven into every word.

I am grateful to have been loved and to be loved now and to be able to love, because that liberates. Love liberates. It doesn't just hold - that's ego. Love liberates. It doesn't bind. Love says..."I love you. I love you if you're in China. I love you if you're across town. I love you if you're in Harlem. I love you. I would like to be near you. I'd like to have your arms around me. I'd like to hear your voice in my ear. But that's not possible now, so I love you. Go." - Maya Angelou

Don't love hoping to be loved. Love to liberate your soul.

Don't Lurk. Say Hi!

2011-01-14T08:00:00.038-05:00

I once compared blogging to oral sex.

One person gives (the blogger writes a post) and the other receives (the reader enjoys their work). Sometimes the receiver reciprocates (the reader leaves a comment) and sometimes they don’t. Now I don't know about you, but I like my sex like I like my blogging. It should be a two-way street. However, I often find myself more happy with being the giver - in blogging and in oral sex. So in a way, I really don't mind if I don't receive. Still, it's nice to at least give your favorite bloggers a reach around (AKA, post a comment) every now and then to show them their work doesn't go unappreciated. And for many, myself included, it motivates them to keep going...to keep writing that is.

Conversation is as much a part of blogging as writing is. Of course to get the conversation going, you have to build a community - build up your readership base. And to build up your readership base, you have to write content worth reading and conversing about. Unfortunately for me, I seem to have lost that talent.

I'm not trying to be a David Downer or throw myself an Internet pity party, but I can't help but notice something odd. Although my subscribers continue to go up, the comments have drastically dropped. Just a year ago I averaged 50 comments per post (with a few over 100). These days I average around 20 per post. I'm not quite sure what's going on. If people are just reading/commenting on less blogs because they've become busier and/or lazier, which I would totally understand. Or if my writing just plain old sucks, which I would also totally understand.

I've never been shy when it comes to admitting that I hate my own writing. And because of the harsh criticism I place upon myself, I always strive to live by my motto - "write like no one is reading." But let's be real. It's better when what you write is read.

After all, isn't that why people blog? Not just to better understand ourselves, but with hope that we may better understand others. That connection, although virtual it may be, fills a void. It fills those empty spaces a writer finds themselves in. The gap between our words and another's world. That's what community provides, a link. I can say I "write like no one is reading" all I want. But the truth of the matter is that an audience of one just isn't any fun. It's like masturbation. Self-gratifying? Sure! But not as fulfilling.

If reaching people didn't matter and we truly didn't care what anyone thought, then we would be content with writing privately in our Moleskines and tucking them under our bed mattresses. We wouldn't put our words out there for public display. Comment sections on blogs wouldn't exist and bloggers everywhere wouldn't bask in nerdy little highs from seeing a new comment appear on their latest post. (Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.)

January 1, 2011 marked my 6th Blogiversary. That makes me a bit of a dinosaur in the blogging world. And because I'm feeling old and crusty, it's time for a fresh start. I've written over 1,000 posts in 6 years. Hundreds of those will soon be deleted (only the best will remain). Why? Because this blog doesn't make me happy. It's not something I'm proud of. I want to get excited about writing again. That is why I'm in the process of designing a new blog! A WordPress Thesis Theme blog with a whole new look, new posts, new domain name and will come with more awesome!

I hope you will join me. In the meantime, stop being a lurker and go be a comment whore! I'm sure there are dozens of blogs you read and never contribute a word on. It's time to change that. I've never started reading anything that I didn't have a single thought on upon completion. And chances are neither have you.

Forever Connected To Someone - Quantum Entangled

2010-12-29T15:58:00.005-05:00

***NOTE***
This is a follow-up to my last post, Decrypting The Universe. And stick with me here, this gets deep! But a fascinating read that will surely have you thinking and looking at your life much differently from this day forward.

True story!

A young waiter (Kevin) saves the life of a woman (Penny) who is choking to death. Oddly enough, 7 years early, the same woman had saved the waiter’s life when he was just a boy.

A bizarre twist of fate or can such instances be logically explained? Was it more than coincidence? Was it part of The Universe’s grand design? Do random events happen for a reason? Or can the mystery be explained by science?

Before you say Kevin and Penny were destine to collide, it was "God’s will," fate, or it was good karma coming back around, take this perspective into consideration...

Dr. Jeffrey Rosenthal, Professor of Statistics from the University of Toronto, doesn’t believe that these amazing coincidences are really that remarkable. He states that while lots of coincidence stories can be interesting and fun to retell, you have to think about the numbers. And when you do, you realize that even really surprising sounding things are just going to happen by chance every now and then. To demonstrate how mathematics can demystify seemingly improbable events, Dr. Rosenthal performs a simple experiment on randomness and probability. He randomly selects 40 people off the street and asks them to write their birthday down on a piece of paper. He believes that out of 40 people, at least 2 of them would share the exact same birthday.

You would think it would be rather rare that 2 people will share the same birthday, but actually there is an 89% chance that it will happen. And the reason is there are 780 pairs you can make out of a group of 40 people. (I’ll save you the long and nerdy formula.) And of course in Dr. Rosenthal’s experiment, the math proves true. 2 of the 40 people did share the same birthday.

What does all of this have to do with Kevin and Penny or with your life in general? Well, if you just take a specific pair of people, the chances of A saving B’s life and B saving A’s life is about 1 in 40 billion billion! It’s incredibly unlikely. But once you factor in the fact that there are so many different pairs of people out there who are trained in CPR, then there is about a 1/3 chance that at some point in your lifetime there will be some pair of people living in some local area that will save each other’s lives.

So can mathematics explain everything? Some believe in a much more mysterious theory. Dr. Gary Schwartz, Professor of Psychology from the University of Arizona, believes that random events are not random at all, but caused by synchronicity. Coincidence means something happens by chance. Synchronicity means something happens beyond chance. Synchronicity is a powerful, invisible, organizing force that orchestrates our lives - you may refer it simply as The Universe.

To understand how The Universe works, visualize iron filings. If you sprinkle them on a piece of paper, they just land haphazardly. But if you place a magnet under the piece of paper, a structure will emerge. And that structure reflects the underlying fields that are interconnecting the events. Were Kevin and Penny drawn together by an underlying force they weren’t aware of? And more importantly, if synchronicity (AKA, The Universe) is an invisible force, where is it coming from? Some type of super intelligence? That G-word?

Author and physics lecturer, Dr. Fred Alan Wolf, has a scientific explanation that has nothing to do with the existence of any God. He believes things can become quantum entangled. That means that 2 people can become linked in such a way that anything that happens to one of them is instantaneously communicated to the other, regardless of distance. That is quantum entanglement. And his theory on how The Universe works.

In short, two people that interact and then separate remain quantum entangled until they met in the future.

Whether you believe in the scientific explanations of The Universe, a super intelligence beyond our comprehension that dictates our lives, or a little of both, you have to admit it's weird. Personally, I believe that people come into our lives for a reason. And a part of them never leaves you. Take comfort in that, despite distance or the passing of time. The chances of bumping into them again are much greater than you once believed.

Decrypting The Universe

2010-12-21T08:06:00.041-05:00

I used to look for "signs from above" to decide the right choice for me to make. I used to wait for "perfect moments" to magically appear before I made my move. I used to wish on a star, a birthday candle, and on a greasy turkey bone break to make my wildest dreams come true. I used to find a penny and pick it up for good luck. I used to believe a fortune cookie could foresee the life ahead of me. I thought a daily horoscope already had the mood for my day set and there was nothing I could do to change it. I trusted the weatherman to accurately predict sun or rain. I had faith that a Magic 8 Ball held all the answers to my toughest questions.

And finally, I believed praying to a God I didn’t quite believe in would steer me in the right direction when I read the signs from above wrong. When I let the perfect moment pass. When I lost the turkey bone break. When the penny was stuck to the sidewalk with gum. When the fortune cookie crumbled. When the daily horoscope section was missing from the paper. When the weather man had his signals crossed. And when the Magic 8 Ball just wasn’t up to the task.

Ok, so maybe I wasn’t THAT naive or superstitious, but close. I still catch myself doing stupid shit though. Like hitting shuffle on my iPod, then convincing myself that the next song that randomly plays will be the song that describes EXACTLY how some girl truly feels about me or how I SHOULD feel about them. (Yes, I'm secretly a 12-year-old girl trapped in a grown man's body.) Last time I did this, "Edge Of Desire" by John Mayer began to play. Out of 3,000 songs it picked that! Seriously? I nearly threw my iPod out the car window in a fit of hurt and anger! Then I decided that would be an expensive hissy fit to take and hit "next" instead. Jay-Z’s "On To The Next One" began to play. Fitting.

Fitting in the sense that the song isn’t about moving on in terms of women or love. The song is about Cristal, Rovers, and pricey sneakers. And that’s precisely my point! It’s fitting because it didn’t fit - at all! Get ready for the reality check. There are no magical answers in life or hidden meanings in song lyrics that need decoding. There are no signs to follow. No signals that flash. And there’s no bellowing voice from the sky...at least none that I have ever heard. There’s just you. You’re in control. I know, I know. It’s a hard concept to grasp. I struggled with it too. But it’s true!

Of course old habits die hard. So purely for shits and giggles, I signed up for a daily e-mail that many of my friends were already subscribed to. It’s called "Notes From The Universe" from TUT - Totally Unique Thoughts. The notes are designed to remind you that you have, indeed, been given dominion over all things. It's like The Universe is whispering in your ear hole, give or take the spine tingle that can accompany it. A little virtual voice that gives you a gut check by punching you in the stomach, then lovingly holds your hair back while you vomit and offers a hug after you wipe your disgusting self clean. It’s exactly the kind of self-love and mental cleansing I need!

Day 1 - Notes From The Universe

Tell me, David, if you were to walk out of your home tomorrow morning, gaze upward into the heavens and see me there, in all my splendor, pacing, pining, and worrying; hoping, wishing, and yearning; and questioning whether or not my boldest dreams would ever come true, would you or would you not, wonder if I had gone stark raving mad?

Well then...?

Thoughts become things... choose the good ones!

Training your mind is what it all boils down to. All of it. All things. Everything.

Hearty punch to the stomach. Little bit of vomit. Big hug.

Workplace Romance = Career Suicide

2010-12-13T21:34:00.011-05:00

Office sex. It’s the forbidden Argentine tango meets the deadliest game of Russian roulette. It blends excitement with danger and serves it up piping hot on a high gloss mahogany desk. Or at least that is what the pornos portray.

Office sex is a fantasy shared by millions, myself including. Unfortunately though, that’s where the fantasy should stay - in your head and not acted out. Statistics say that 4 out of 10 people have dated a colleague at some point in their careers. (I use the word "dated" loosely. For the sake of this post, the word "dated" is going to be a generalization to describe any type of unprofessional involvement with a co-worker. An emotional and/or sexual affair with a co-worker either in, or out, of the workplace.) And with the office holiday party season upon us, temptation is at an all-time high! Office holiday parties are a breeding ground for bad behavior because everyone is looking their best, cutting loose, dancing and of course drinking. It’s a deadly combo and one that your career can suffer greatly from should you fail to use your best judgment.

After college it becomes harder to meet new people and make friends. These days the average person works between 50-60 hours a week. That means people spend MORE time with their co-workers than they do with their significant other, family or friends! Spend 50-60 hours a week with ANYONE and a relationship of some kind WILL form. Now whether you keep that relationship strictly professional, turn it into a friendship or something more is completely up to you. Nearly every H.R. department prefers you find romance outside the workplace. However, if you still insist on inviting unnecessary drama into your professional life and risking your career, there’s only one rule you need to remember when it comes to office romances...

Don't.

Not clear enough? Then try this...

DON'T!!!

Still not getting the message? Then here are a 5 things you may want to consider before those harmless office flirtations spiral out of control and end up costing you your job!

1. Stop Being Lazy
Relationships take work. And finding someone worthy of entering into a relationship with often takes even more work! If you’re too lazy to find someone outside your office to be romantically or sexually involved with, then you’re too lazy to be in a relationship. It’s easy to pursue someone you work with because they’re right there working 3 cubes down! It’s convenient. Plus, you already sort of know them so it feels comfortable. You share at least one common interest with them and have plenty of friends/co-workers in common. So striking up a conversation isn’t very difficult, especially considering you could always lead with a work related question. Basically, you have a legit excuse to chat them up without appearing like you want to feel them up.

2. Welcome To Rumorville
Sometimes all it takes is a couple lunches together and buying a co-worker a drink at happy hour to get the rumors at work on Monday flying! It was because she was attractive and flirty. And because I’m a man with hormones. So to onlookers, it only made sense! Then when word got around that I was actually dating her best friend (who didn’t work there), the next rumor was "he’s doing both of them!" And that’s how rumors get started. No matter how platonic one relationship may be, and no matter how discrete you think you’re being with another not so innocent relationship, people will take notice and will jump to conclusions. Co-workers will assume the worst because it adds a little excitement in a normally mundane 9-5 grind and gives them something interesting to talk about over morning lattes with their cubemate.

3. R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Start up an office romance and see how quickly EVERYONE in the company loses respect for you! Your hard work no longer seems earned. Your opinions will be called into question and your choices will be carefully scrutinize. People will wonder if your decision making process is one based with the company’s best interests in mind, or your own. You will appear sneaky and untrustworthy. And some may become hostile toward you for bending/breaking the company’s dating policy.

4. No Escaping!
Want to talk about awkward moments, jealously flare-ups, uncomfortable board meetings, snide remarks and power fights? Then become romantically involved with a co-worker. Better yet, wait until the two of you breakup and you’re forced to see your ex EVERY SINGLE DAY, ALL DAY LONG! The office becomes an emotional prison and there’s no escape.

5. Over And Under Rule
If they're over you, they shouldn't be "over" you. If they're under you, they shouldn't be "under" you. Get what I'm saying? Simply put - it's bad enough to sleep with a co-worker who is at the same level as you, but NEVER sleep with a boss or one of your subordinates! Not only are you asking to be fired, but you may find yourself wrapped up in an ugly sexual harassment case as well.

It doesn't matter how large or how relaxed of a company you work for, engaging in a workplace romance is committing career suicide. And in today's tough job market, believe me when I say you're easily replaceable. So don't give them an easy reason to let you go. Expand your dating pool.

***SIDE NOTE***
At risk of sounding like a hypocrite, it's only fair that I mention the advice I've just given comes from my own personal experience. When you know better, you do better. While I've never engaged in an workplace romance, I did receive a BJ at work (from a girl I was dating that didn't work there) during my rookie year in the workforce. I was fresh out of college with a bit of an ego and with lots to learn. I was young, dumb and full of...

Well, I’ll just end this post on that. Lesson learned.

Top 10 Cold Hard Truths About Entrepreneurship

2010-12-07T10:32:00.020-05:00

***NOTE***
Friend and fellow blogger Elysa Rice from GenPink.com asked 35 bloggers to write Top 10 Lists on a variety of topics ranging from A to Z as part of her December Blog Series. E is for Entrepreneurship and that's where I come in. My guest post was published on GenPink over the weekend. And with her ok, I'm publishing a copy of it here on my blog as well. I hope you'll check out all the posts in her series - some of my favorite bloggers are included!

So you want to take the plunge! Say so long to corporate America and start your own company. You want to be an entrepreneur! Well before you tell your boss to suck it, there are some things you should know. Things that all those entrepreneurial books, blogs, TV documentaries and motivational speakers don’t want to tell you. I’m talking about the cold hard truth about entrepreneurship. The less than glossy side of what you need to know before taking the leap, as well as tips on how to stick the landing once you do leap. Because let’s be honest, starting your own company is a lot like jumping from the top of a building without a parachute. And no one likes to go splat.

In an effort to keep you from becoming a stain on the pavement and another startup company statistic, I want to share with you my Top 10 Cold Hard Truths About Entrepreneurship. As the Founder and CEO of Network Security Consulting company and someone who is on track to tripling his company’s revenue in this final quarter of 2010, I think I know a little sumthin sumthin. So take it from a guy who has been there, done that (in some cases is still doing that), and has learned the hard way - first hand. I’m going to count them down backwards to help prepare you for the leap!

10. Be Your Own Cheerleader
You need a support system. Ideally that would be family, friends, a significant other, and/or a dog (I prefer a Bulldog). But you can’t rely solely on them to pat you on your back when you’re doing well and pick you up when you fall. You must be your own cheerleader. As impossible as it may sound, you need to have a positive attitude day in and day out. If you don’t believe in yourself, how do you expect anyone else to believe in you? Confidence is a must!

9. Plan On Working Without A Paycheck For Awhile
Those who don’t like hard work need not apply. Or rather, those who like stability or live paycheck to paycheck should stick to their regular 9-5 job with a steady income. Because being an entrepreneur often means working with a fluctuating paycheck or no paycheck at all! Yes, lots of long thankless hours and no green to show for it - similar to being a new Mom. This company is now your new baby. So bank on making sacrifices. You may need to dip into your savings, take out loans, cut living expenses, and survive on Ramen Noodles for awhile. The average startup doesn’t see a profit for 2 years. And many entrepreneurs (including myself) often go months, if not a year or two, without paying themselves! Being an entrepreneur doesn’t make you fancy. It makes you humble.

8. Embrace A Side Hustle
Starting your own business can be expensive - duh! But instead of thinking of ways to save money, why not think of ways to make MORE money? That’s where the side hustle comes in. It’s a part-time job you do on the side in addition to pursing your dream of being an entrepreneur. It can be anything, like a passive income collecting royalties from a book you’ve written, to bussing tables at the local diner. Sometimes keeping your regular full-time job and pursuing the dream of running your own company on the side is the way to go. Whatever works to keep cash flowing in and you a float.

7. Social & Love Life Take A Backseat
If you want to be a successful entrepreneur, your company has to be your #1 priority. So unfortunately, that means your social and love life are going to take a hit. There was a time I skipped going out and even skipped dating because I didn’t have money to buy a girl flowers let alone a decent meal! And really, I didn’t have the extra time to devote to much of a social or love life. Of course this doesn’t last forever, but it does take some getting used to in the early months.

6. Prepare For The Roller Coaster of Emotions
I don’t care if you’re a grown ass man. There will be days when you’ll want to cry. There will be days when you’ll want to quit. There will be days when you’ll bounce between feeling angry and frustrated to feeling euphoric and unstoppable. There will be days like this. But as Kelly Cutrone once said..."if you have to cry, go outside."

5. Being In Charge Isn’t Always Fun
It’s said that most people start their own business because they don’t like being told what to do. Of course work for yourself long enough and you’ll quickly realize how much you miss having people take charge of certain things for you. For instance, healthcare benefits. Not only are you in charge of selecting your own plan, but all your employees’ plans as well! Arrgh!

4. Have Some Game
Even if you aren’t in retail, you need to be a good salesman. How else are you going to get investors or sign clients? You have to pitch yourself well! And when it doubt, you’re not above kissing a little ass. So even if you hate golf, take a potential client out for a round. Wine them. Dine them. Become likable, if not lovable to them. Earn their trust, but more importantly earn their respect by not pouring it on too thick.

3. Have Lots of Plan Bs (and sometimes a Plan C or D)
It’s inevitable that you will get rejected. You will hear no. And your ideas at times will be laughed at. But be open to constructive criticism. Learn from it. Grow from it. Let it give birth to new opportunities. And always, always have a Plan B to fall back on.

2. Hire Slowly. Fire Quickly.
I can’t stress this simple rule enough! The hiring process is long and tedious for a reason. Because it’s one of the most important decisions you’ll make for your company! You need to surround yourself with creative, brilliant minds. Hard workers. People you can trust. Personalities that mesh with yours. And when it comes to firing, remember you’re their boss first and their friend second. Don’t put something off until tomorrow that should be done today.

1. You Will Give More Than You Get
The average entrepreneur works a bare minimum of 60 hours a week. Many work closer to 80 hours a week. Like the children’s book "The Giving Tree," you will give until it hurts and then give some more. You will give so much that you will question what more you possibly have to give. Then, you’ll give again. You’ll slave and you’ll sacrifice. And you’ll do it for one reason. Because this is your baby. And you love selflessly like any good parent would.

NOW JUMP!

As the saying goes - if it were easy, everyone would be doing it! The truth is more startups fail than succeed. So above all else, please remember that being an entrepreneur isn’t for everyone and that’s ok. It’s not the luxurious or glamorous lifestyle as many would like you to believe...especially not in the early years. I hope what I’ve said here hasn’t discouraged anyone from pursuing their dreams, but rather gives clarity to that American Dream that all too often becomes clouded due to society’s glossy representation of what it’s like to be an entrepreneur. And to those that still have the courage to leap, you’ll have no bigger cheerleader than me.

One Word

2010-12-03T01:10:00.001-05:00

"Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?" - www.reverb10.com

My initial response to that question is, "how girly!" It’s so Eat Pray Love. Choosing one word to define a place, or a person, or a year. Then I sat with it for a minute. And you know what? I kind of like it. It doesn't matter if it’s girly or not. It doesn't matter if whatshername already mentally stole the longer version of my word because we still share the same brain. And it doeesn't matter if I'm 3 days tardy on posting this. None of it matters. Because summing anything up in just one word gives clarity. As this year comes to a close and a new year is almost upon us, having clarity is a beautiful thing. It’s cleansing and renewing. I can’t think of a better way to end one chapter and start the next then with a single word on a stark white page. So without further adieu, here is my 2010 word and my 2011 word...

My word for 2010 - Unexpected.

If it’s ok with all of you, I’m not going to explain why I chose "unexpected" as my 2010 word. (And Mom if you’re reading this, no I didn’t get anyone pregnant!)

My word for 2011 - Free.

Just writing that word causes me to let out a giant sigh of relief! Ahhh. Free. Free my mind. Free my heart. Free up some more me time - free time! Free to travel a lot more. Free to work a bit less. Free to start my second company located all the way on the back bottom belly of the globe. And free to do as I please. Just free.

What's your word?

***NOTE***
This post is my submission for Reverb 10, an annual event and online initiative to reflect on this year and manifest what’s next. Learn more at www.reverb10.com

Want more? I’ve set up a Tumblr account strictly for my Reverb 10 project. Although I can’t promise I’ll keep up with it regularly. Remember, my word is "free" and not "commitment."

Phantom Pain

2010-11-30T00:48:00.007-05:00

Is happiness only real when shared?

I proposed that question early this year after pondering over the age-old question: "If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, did it really fall?" Meaning - the objects of sense exist only when they are perceived.

So now I wonder once again. If happiness is only real when shared, does pain only exist if we permit it?

"Think of it this way...if you break a bone, the pain is so severe that the body actually numbs that limb in order for you to carry on. It’s the body’s natural way of coping. So if one endures enough emotional pain, it’s easy to see how you can become numb after awhile. It’s the body’s natural way of coping." - excerpt from my last post

I received an e-mail from Susan Pogorzelski of TwentyOrSomething.com regarding my broken bone/emotionally numb theory. Below you’ll see her insight was nothing short of brilliant and beautiful!

They say that amputees experience something called Phantom Limbs. That is, when they lose a limb, they experience the sensation (and unfortunately often pain) that it's still there, attached to the body. Studies say that it's related to nerves. Others say it's the brain remembering what was there and thus still reacting. Science aside, perhaps it's a reminder of what you've lost. Or perhaps it's saying that while something may be missing that we perceived was essential, we're still never actually incomplete - learning to compensate, to appreciate what you once had, what you do have. Maybe it's a reminder of all that you still have.

I think hearts work the same way. When we lose someone, no matter how that perceived loss comes about, it feels like a piece of our heart is gone with them. But they're still there with us. That Phantom Piece telling us that we're lucky to have loved them, known them, learned from them. And some of us are still lucky enough to love them, even if it's not in the way we imagined or necessarily wanted.

Whatever is missing, there's still some piece of it there. A reminder that you are in fact fully whole, despite what you think is actually missing from your life.

And whatever is numbed eventually comes back to life. That's the marvel of modern medical practices, in the instance of your broken bone analogy. You see it all around you - everyday in nature, in the seasons. Things become cold, frigid, due to the harsh conditions. Taking its time to heal and renew itself before coming back to life.

In some form or another.

So maybe we can do without, without actually feeling we are ever truly without.

***NOTE***
Related post of interest: 2/21/06 - When Words Seem Generic

Learn Some Fucking Manners

2010-11-23T23:11:00.004-05:00

New York is a city filled with busy, successful people. It’s home to the "I can do it myself" attitude. So of course that means there is no shortage of Miss Indpenedents - my favorite breed of woman! But when it comes to dating, Miss Independent better be ok with the old fashion role of me treating her to dinner. Why? Because I want to feel like a man on a date. And she should want me to act like a man. So even if she has two capable hands and makes more than me, I'm still opening the door and paying on the date. Chivalry is not dead, or at least to me it isn’t. And is that necessarily a bad thing? Afterall, what's wrong with taking care of a woman if she takes care of you? (And I don't mean that in a sexual way.)

I understand it’s almost 2011 and there is this thing called feminism which seems to have done our society both some good and some harm. It’s done good in the sense that it’s leveling out the playing field for women in so many areas that were once heavily dominated and controlled only by men. But feminism is bad in the sense that it’s seems to have made the process of dating not only painful, but highly confusing! Nice gestures that I once thought would be viewed as sweet and showed I’m capable of being a gentleman either go completely unappreciated or are somehow perceived as offensive.

Flowers go unacknowledged. Holding a door doesn’t receive a thank you. And picking up the bill causes many women to assume payment is expected in the form of a blowjob. (If I was looking solely to get laid, I would place you in the booty call rotation and wouldn't take the time trying to get to know you.) Whatever happened to recognizing that maybe he’s a nice guy and simply likes you? And whatever happened to letting nice things be done for you and accepting them graciously with a smile? When did sincerity and genuine kindness go out of style? Why is bitch the new black?

Women go on and on about how they love random acts of kindness. But if you actually perform such an act, the gears start turning in their head wondering what his ulterior motives are. Apparently, "my father taught me some fucking manners as a child" is an answer they have trouble accepting. The teachings started when I was young. One Thanksgiving I sat down at the dinner table with a baseball hat on. My father cleared his throat and glared over at me. Then without saying a single word, he smacked the cap right off my head. I knew right then and there that I needed to learn some fucking manners. No hats at the table.

While at dinner, you should be interested in what your date has to say (or at least pretend you are) by putting your cell phone away. When leaving dinner, you should help her with her coat or offer your coat if she's cold. And if one day you see a beautiful stranger fumbling her shopping bags in the cold November rain while trying to hail a cab between 5th and 6th, you should step in and offer a hand and a whistle. Just don’t expect her to appreciate the fact that you went out of your way to show a little love. That you’re standing there in a three-piece suit soaked to the bone trying to make the life of a perfect stranger a bit easier. Don’t expect her to acknowledge that random act of kindness with a thank you, a half smile, or even a nod. No, that would constitute as manners and that would simply be asking too much.

So if you’re going to be rude, then I’m going to rude. I really don’t care anymore. I’m sick of caring. I do believe good karma exists, for other people, just not for me. For whatever reason, it never comes around. I put it out and it dissolves. Now before you label me or other guys like me a dick, take this into consideration...

Perhaps he doesn’t have a black hole for a heart. Perhaps he’s just been dumped on a lot lately and the cold and uncaring way he acts isn’t a defensive mechanism for his heart, but rather the result of a callused heart. One that is numb and ceases to feel much of anything anymore. Think of it this way...if you break a bone, the pain is so severe that the body actually numbs that limb in order for you to carry on. It’s the body’s natural way of coping. So if one endures enough emotional pain, it’s easy to see how you can become numb after awhile. It’s the body’s natural way of coping.

Oh, and if you think this post is about something much deeper than just some stuck up chick and a wet tie, then you’re absolutely right.

Also, I’m wearing a hat to Thanksgiving.

Status Quo Queasy

2010-11-11T07:08:00.024-05:00

Sometimes I leave really long angry/venting comments on really well written posts. And sometimes I turn my really long angry/venting comments into a post of my own. This is one such instance. Inspired by Elisa Doucette’s The New Status Quo.

The status quo is the existing state of affairs. Living the way life has always been lived. Traditionally that meant going to college, getting a job, getting married, having a couple kids, tossing in a Golden Retriever and framing that picture perfect life in with a white picket fence. The problem with that image is today it’s not the life most young adults envision for themselves. It may be the life your parents have and the life they wish you to have, but it’s not the life you want. Like any good rebel, you rebel against that image. You reject the status quo! And instead of a follower, you deem yourself a leader. A dreamer. A thinker. A changer. A doer. An innovator. You boldly scream "FUCK YOU" to corporate America, sell all your belongings, pack a small bag and float wherever the wind blows you. You decide you’re going to make the rules and not live by anyone else’s. You kick down the white picket fence and in Jerry Maguire fashion ask, "who’s coming with me?" But unlike Jerry Maguire, you're not onto anything new. You've simply joined a new bandwagon - the new status quo. The minimalist lifestyle, location independent, traditional status quo rejecter, wantrepreneur, blah blah blah.

Remember those emo/goth/punk kids we all went to high school with? They all thought they were so different for dressing in black and listening to alternative music. But the reality is they weren’t different at all! There were 50 of them at the same school and thousands more just like them at other schools. And their so-called alternative music wasn’t much of an alternative at all! It was mainstream and not unique in the least...just like them. They too felt they were rebelling and rejecting the status quo. Laughable.

All this talk on the Internet about living a minimalist lifestyle and being location independent and rejecting the status quo really does make me laugh (and vomit). They think they are changing the world and opening up people’s eyes to some brand new way of thinking and living. NONE of it is brand new info at all! It’s taking the same age-old hippie mentality from the 60s and digitally repackaging it to fit modern times filled with tech savvy peers. So instead of burning their bras in protest, they add a Twitter hashtag to let the public know where they stand on a subject matter. And instead of hanging a paper banner on the side of a rusted VW van, they paste a pixilated one on their glossy blog. Same message, just a different way to deliver it.

Maybe it’s just me, but I’m not cool with couch surfing after the age of 22 when I should be an adult with an actual home address. And I’m not cool with only having one pair of crusty socks I have to wash 7 days a week because having more than a dozen items to my name clouds my minimalist thinking. (What kind of A.D.D. shit is that?)

The reality is that thinking and doing and living for oneself has been going on for years! So all the minimalists, location indies, status quo rejecters and wantrepreneurs can stop acting like they are onto something new. There are millions of you out there and you can’t click 2 links deep on the web without bumping into one of your clones/drones.

I look at it the same way I look at religion. I don’t give a shit what people do or believe in, just don’t cram your beliefs down my throat and insist everyone should follow you. I don’t cram my entrepreneurship lifestyle on everyone because it’s not FOR everyone. And that is perfectly fine because running your own company doesn’t make you better than everyone else. And it certainly doesn’t make me different than any of the other billion start-up founders out there. What I would like to see is for everyone to stop bashing each other's lifestyle choices regardless if you follow the traditional status quo, the new status quo, or no status quo at all. What makes one person happy won't necessarily make another person happy. One lifestyle does not fit all.

I realize this post makes me sound like a hypocrite because I’m bashing those who bash others. But that’s exactly my point! To show them how it feels to have their lifestyle choices bashed on the same way they bash on the lifestyle choices of others. And to show those following the New Status Quo that what they are doing and preaching about isn’t some new revolution they started. But mostly it’s to show those following the Old Status Quo, or no Status Quo at all, that they aren’t some loser who’s doing it wrong. There is no right or wrong way to live. Like I said, one lifestyle does not fit all.

It’s VERY IMPORTANT to remember that the Internet always makes things (and people) look bigger and better than they truely are. So when you see countless blog posts and Tweets and all this talk about rejecting the status quo, you'll be mislead into thinking everyone is doing it! Then you'll probably fall into the mind trap of thinking "hey, that might work for me too - that will make me happy." But more than likely you'll discover it's not the right fit. And I don’t want anyone to ever feel bad about that.

***NOTE***
Related post of interest and equally as offensive:
11/9/09 - You're Personal Branding Yourself As A Narcissistic A-Hole

Tiffany Blue Ink

2010-11-05T00:23:00.003-04:00

When was the last time you received a handwritten letter on proper stationery? Or a handwritten note on any type of paper for that matter? The look and feel of a handwritten note is incomparable and deeply personal. Compared to e-mail, e-vites, and everything else electronic, paper holds a soft spot in the hearts of a rare few that still enjoy kickin' it old skool with a pen. The Handwritten Letter Is A Dying Art. I’ve made no secret about my love affair with pen and paper, but yet everyone is always shocked and questions why a tech gadget whore like myself enjoys such a prehistoric form of communication. I’ll tell you why. Because it’s classic. It’s classy. It’s both formal and informal. Personal and sometimes professional. Thank you notes are a necessary part of life. They are used to acknowledge gifts, special favors and extended visits. You should send one after interviewing for a job and you should send one to thank someone for their business. Of course companies don’t do that anymore...or do they?

When I sort through my mail after work, anything hand addressed is opened first. Always has been. Always will be. Needless to say, those rare gems don’t appear very often nestled among the monthly bills, coupon fliers and junk catalogs. Yes, the handwritten letter really is a dying art, if not already extinct! I was nearly certain that the only two people left on the face of this earth that still wrote the occasional letter or thank you note was me and my 91-year-old Grandmother. If I have nothing else in common with a 91-year-old woman, at least I have that.

Then one day tucked between my Visa credit card statement and Men’s Health magazine was a small robin’s egg blue envelope, or "Tiffany blue" as the color is better known. Tiffany & Co had sent me A HANDWRITEN THANK YOU NOTE! What company in 2010 still does such a thing? It’s almost unheard of to receive a thank you note from any business these days. And if you do, it’s usually a canned formed computer generated letter. But this one was all original and written in hand! I could hardly believe it. I still can’t believe it. I was so impressed that someone (let alone a huge company like Tiffany & Co) would take the time and care enough to let their appreciation be known to lil' ol' me.

Really, that’s all any of us want in this world. To be recognized and appreciated if only for a brief moment. To know that we matter. To say "hey, I didn’t forget about you."

To open a shop is easy, to keep it open is an art. And Tiffany’s hasn’t stayed in business for two centuries without knowing how to properly treat people. They’ve perfected the art.

Kaleidoscope Soul

2010-10-28T12:50:00.002-04:00

Transparent - (adjective) having the property of transmitting rays of light through its substance so that bodies situated beyond or behind can be distinctly seen.

I had peered inside the side window when it was still surrounded by rusty scaffolding and rubbery orange construction cones. The floor was blanketed in a layer of thick dust and debris, but you could see its potential. One day those wooden floors would shine under bare feet and reflect the shadows of the bendy bodies that gracefully contorted themselves behind 15ft high panes of glass. I stood there imagining what it would look like, the room flooded with so much natural light and all that peaceful energy radiating from every warm body that filled it. Backs sitting up nice and straight. Legs crossed. Arms relaxed. Minds cleared. Hearts open. I could see them there now. I just couldn’t see myself among them.

Ever since my sister introduced me to yoga a few years ago, I’ve wanted to give it another try. Friends had been encouraging me to take an official class, but I was afraid of being the token straight guy in the class, the guy that’s viewed as a creeper. I know me. And I know I’m highly distracted by cute 20-something girls in form fitting yoga pants bending over infront of me. I didn’t want my eyes bouncing from mat to mat and my head filling with impure thoughts. I didn’t want my head filling with ANY thoughts! I didn’t want to feel anything. I was so sick of all my fucking feelings! Repressing my feelings. Exhausting my feelings. Too many emotions can turn a sane man crazy! I wanted to just be. To allow nothing else to exist in my head space for 60 solid minutes.

I decided that Ashtanga (Power Yoga) would be a good choice. It’s light on meditation, but heavy on developing strength and stamina - absolutely perfect for someone like me who would find long meditation periods both frustrating and boring. And surely Ashtanga would be beneficial in conjunction with my MMA training. So I signed up and waited for construction to finish and the doors to open.

I wander in nonchalantly like a stray off the streets and grab a spot towards the back of the class, hoping to fly under the radar unnoticed. I’m a lost soul that’s woefully out of place, but is looking to blend (should have worn camo). We are instructed to clear our head. Only 30 seconds into class and I’m already failing! I’m unable to still my mind. And like an untrained puppy, it starts wondering off. Of course I fully expected that to happen. While I may be physically strong, I’m mentally weak. My inquisitiveness is what brought me here. But that same inquisitiveness has caused a noisy conversation to sprout between my lobes.

I can’t keep focus. I start to question this Yogi standing before the class. A woman whose body is fueled by tofu and mineral water. She is a shapely figure modestly concealed under layers of earth toned colored hemp with only naked toes exposed. Cleaned faced and locks of strawberry blonde hair falling at freewill across high porcelain cheekbones. Although beautiful in her own right, she is not the kind of woman that I’m normally attracted to. Her happy, peaceful energy has drawn me in though. Not in a sexual way, she's more like a kindred spirit. I feel calm and comforted just in her presence. An aura surrounds her, if I can be so Zen-like in saying.

Then I notice she’s staring at me, or rather through me! She’s making a lot of eye-contact, almost as if she’s reading all the thoughts currently in my head and mentally scolding me for not clearing my mind as I was instructed to do earlier. That calm and comforting feeling I had quickly vanishes leaving me insecure and somewhat defensive. It’s the same uneasy feeling I had the day of my sister’s wedding when the priest directed nearly his entire sermon at me! Staring at me the whole time like I was some type of heathen child in need of spiritual guidance. This is exactly why I no longer go to church and this is exactly why I felt like packing up my yoga mat and leaving. Apparently I was transparent. And how dare they judge me!

I’m not one to quit and run from anything that makes me uncomfortable or feels too difficult to endure. I pride myself on being able to push through – mentally, physically, emotionally. Because I know that muscling through such adversity will only make me stronger and I will be a better person for it. So even if it hurts, it’s a good hurt. While the rest of the class was chanting some Sanskrit mantra, Radiohead’s song "Creep" was blasting on continuous repeat in my head, attempting to drown out the noise of all the other thoughts that were consuming me. But instead the lyrics only reinforced the internal dialog I was desperately fighting to silence...

"I don't care if it hurts. I wanna have control. I want a perfect body. I want a perfect soul... But I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here."

Still, I stuck the 60 minutes out. I didn’t find the poses as challenging as the mental aspect of it was. Although for someone who normally has great balancing skills, I webbled and wobbled more than an egg! While standing on one leg, I nearly tumbled into the girl beside me! She caught me, but was unable to catch her giggle from escaping. "Head up and fix your eyes on one spot," she whispered tips to me and helped me re-root myself as a strong Maple as opposed to the Weeping Willow I had become. She seemed more sympathetic rather than judging. She seemed to understand. She put my mind back at ease. And my body shortly followed.

While I may never experience that brilliant blue light that supposedly shoots through your body during periods of deep meditation, I experience something nearly as odd. When I’m told to close my eyes, I see a kaleidoscope of images, similar to when you think you’re about to die. But instead of scenes from my life flashing before my eyes, I am presented with a highlight reel of emotions I’ve experienced over the years. They present themselves to me as tiny snapshots. Joy, sadness, rage, etc. Strong and sometimes graphic still images from periods in my life I either willingly forgot or never want to forget. Perhaps this is what the Yoga teacher saw when she stared into my eyes. Perhaps this is what that Priest saw as well.

And that’s what transparency is. It’s exposing every beautiful, ugly and misunderstood part of yourself. It’s nailing your soul to a wall without the wooden frame that boxes you in. A canvas painting for all to see. And judge. There’s always judging. But I’m learning to be ok with that.

Perhaps today, on my birthday, this is the best gift I can give myself.

Finding Your Unique And Beautiful Voice

2010-10-19T15:35:00.016-04:00

Every blog, every book, every movie, and every song essentially tells the same story. Sometimes it’s about love. Sometimes it’s about loss. Sometimes it’s about joy. Sometimes it’s about pain. Sometimes it’s about growth. And sometimes it’s simply about change.

Sometimes I get so cynical when it comes to blogging. Everyone writing about the same thing. Regurgitated info and cloned wisdom that millions before me have shared and millions after me will continue to share. Everyone seems to be an expert on everything and they all want you to heed their advice! The great epiphany! The blogger’s manifesto!

Post after post about how to live my life - live a minimalist lifestyle, live a location independent lifestyle, live life with purpose, find your passion, follow your dreams, reject the status quo, say fuck you to corporate America, become an entrepreneur, travel the world, find balance, be positive, be yourself, be the best version of yourself, find yourself, find someone to love, hug a stranger, hug a tree, build connections, drop toxic relationships, practice good karma, eat right, exercise often, read more, write more, read more than you write. Now write a blog. Now write a book. Now rewrite the world! Revolutions, movements, and chants of inspiring change. None of it is revolutionary or even innovative. It’s all been said and done before by millions and for many, many years.

Throw out dry statistics about Gen Y this and Gen Y that. Complain about the quarter-life crisis. Talk about personal branding and social media until we are all so sick of it that if I see one more so-called personal branding expert/social media obsessed fame whore starving for attention on the Internet that I’m going to personally choke slam them! Preach about how to make better use of our time. How we can be getting more done, but also how we should be taking more time to just enjoy the ride. There was even a post floating around out there telling people how to breathe, which is good because I don’t know how to breathe! I’m suffocating here! Paralyzed by the pen in my hand which cripples my mind. Taunted by the blinking cursor on a blank page 1 document. Struggling to rediscover my voice. Wanting to write everything! Forcing myself to write anything! Failing miserably at both!

Are you catching the irony here? I’m no better than anyone else. I’m guilty of writing a post instructing people on how to properly breathe! After nearly 6 years of blogging and well over 1,000 posts, is that all I have left to talk about - proper breathing techniques? When it comes to Internet, there is virtually nothing new that you could possibly say that hasn’t already been said. If you even THINK you have something new to say that hasn’t already been said by someone before, you are not only delusional but also narcissistic. And that’s exactly my point. Blogging is hard! What exactly do any of us have to offer this online world that is worth a damn to anyone?

Answer: Your unique and beautiful voice.

Yes, your unique and beautiful voice is what makes it different. It’s what makes you different and sets your writing (and your story) apart from the rest. It’s why you can get away with writing on the same topic that’s been written on millions of times before by millions of people before you. It's why people subscribe to your blog because they subscribe to the belief that you possess the ability to say something different. Or rather, say it differently.

The fashion and the music industry have realized this long ago. And like a runway show and like a beat, blogging is not so much about creating new, but giving something old a fresh perspective. The key is finding your unique and beautiful voice. When you figure out how to do this, tell me how.

The Secret Powers Of Time

2010-10-06T14:56:00.002-04:00

You can't change the past, but you can ruin the present by worrying about the future.

Or as The Dog Whisper Cesar Millan says..."Live in the now."

Know why dogs are so happy? Because they have no concept of time. They don’t care about the past. They don’t worry about the future. They live in the present moment, blissfully. Know why humans are so miserable? Because we obsess over time! We try to rush time. We try to slow time down. Sometimes we waste time and other times we attempt to squeeze every little drop out of time. When was the last time you looked at a clock and were truly happy with the reading? Is there ever a time when you aren’t wishing you could rearrange the hands on that clock just a little? Think you’re not obsessed with time? Then try this experiment. Go one full day without ever checking to see what time it is. It will drive you insane!

Time is our most valuable possession. We are obsessed with clocks, calendars, schedules, To-Do lists and multitasking. Still, people spend time less wisely than money. The way we perceive time is as unique as our fingerprints. Our time zones interact to create national cultures and economies. Where you live in the world and your religion shape how you perceive time. Every significant choice we make, every important decision, is determined by our perspective on time. It can dictate our success in school. It can sabotage our career or help us gain a promotion. It can affect our health and finances. It can influence our relationships with friends and loved ones. It even has the power to make us happy, or not. Yet we are virtually unaware of its effects.

University of Stanford Psychology Professor and author of "The Time Paradox," Philip Zimbardo, draws on 30 years of pioneering research to reveal how your individual time perspective shapes your life and is shaped by the world around you. Professor Zimbardo’s original classroom-style lecture on the secret powers of time is nearly an hour long, but most people aren’t willing to spend that amount of their "time" soaking in such wisdom. So instead the lecture has been greatly condensed into just 10 minutes and animated for a YouTube audience. Are you catching the irony here?

It's time to reclaim yesterday, enjoy today, and master tomorrow. So do your life and your sanity a favor, take 10 minutes out of your day right now to watch this video. It’s for those that are too focused on the past - those that are wrapped up in nostalgia and memories and dwell on regret and failure. It’s for those that are too focused on the present - Hedonistics that live for pleasure and avoid pain and Fate Sayers that say it doesn’t pay to plan, that life is fated. And it’s for those that are too focused on the future - the workaholics and worry warts. In short, it's for every one of us whose mind is imprisoned by time.

It's time to break free.

Life Just Got Funner

2010-09-30T18:36:00.014-04:00

"The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind. The kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday." - Baz Luhrmann

I knew the situation had the potential of turning very serious, very fast. And even though it was a short 2 hour flight, it seemed excruciatingly long! Unable to comfort myself, I fidgeted restlessly in my seat. My baby blue dress shirt made an effort to sooth me with a hug, but it squeezed too tightly, causing beads of perspiration to emerge on my forehead. Gasping for air, I popped open the top three buttons, realizing I misread the strangulation attempt as a loving embrace. With each passing minute, my anxiety and frustration only continued to intensify. The knots in my neck spread across my shoulders and rippled down my back like contagious stress cancer plaguing the body of a grief sickened widow. During one particularly fidgety fit, my knees pierced into the soft spine of passenger 22B. That’s when it became clear, I was infecting everyone around me. I was diseased. And my mind was the vessel responsible for pumping out the rotten poison.

My mind began running away from me, as if often does. Picking up momentum with each depressing thought that cascaded into the next. I lassoed it just before it wondered too far off. Into those dark isolated valleys where grim "what if" questions are whispered in the gulps of icy cold babbling brooks and echoed behind shadowy damp willow trees. I refused to chase it into those menacing woods again. So I began pounding good thoughts into my head and carefully guarded grave scenarios from entering my overactive brain that was already saturated with sadness. But there is no way I would allow this story to play out like a bad, overly dramatic Lifetime movie premier. Well, with one exception. It had to have a happy ending. It just had to.

The call actually did come on an idle Tuesday, but it was a little past 4pm. It’s the kind of call you never expect and the kind of call you never wish to receive. The kind of call that had me leaving a business trip in DC to catch the first flight back home. My sister had been admitted to the emergency room for a ruptured appendix. Having your appendix rupture is not uncommon...and neither is dying from it. I had my own scare with it back in June. But nothing scared me more then when my 4-year-old nephew asked me point blank, "If Mommy has surgery, is she going to die?"

I was in the midst of trying to answer that frightening question and tripping over my tongue when my 6-year-old niece came running towards me when I entered the waiting room. "Uncle D!," she always screams it like I’m an A-list celebrity walking the red carpet for the very first time. Then she hugs my knees. And with a big smile on both of our faces, I scoop her up.

Me: "Hey Peanut! You look pretty in your pink butterfly tee. How are you doing?"
Her: "I’m good. Mamma’s sick."

She wastes no time in informing me of the obvious. And I waste no time in telling her I heard and that’s why I flew home. We pass the time by turning the backs of my business cards into miniature "Get Well Soon" cards. We pass more time drawing mustaches on supermodels in last year’s copy of Vogue magazine and doodling flowery skirts on pro athletes in this month’s copy of Sports Illustrated. We play Eye-Spy in the hospital halls, tease her about what doctor she is one day going to marry and practice our super secret hand shake. None of these activities would normally rank very high on a kid’s fun factor scale. But despite the limited resources and the gray situation at hand, my parents point out that somehow I always manage to make her face light up. My niece confirms this observation when she turns to me and says...

"I’m happy you’re here. You make everything funner."

And sometimes that’s all we need. A little giggle and an entertaining distraction to help us temporarily forget the real troubles of life, the kind that blindside you on some idle Tuesday.

Who makes your life funner?

***NOTE***
Related post of interest by Nicole Antoinette from More Is Better
5 days in denver, 5 days in a hospital, and the things that actually matter

All According To Plan

2010-09-23T12:16:00.002-04:00

Life is unscripted. I’m pretty sure that’s the way nature intended it to be. And I’m pretty sure it’s the way love is supposed to be. From the minute we are born, we are handed a blank manuscript. A stark, white sheet of paper with an unwritten story where the only thing you know for certain is that you’ve been given the lead role. Then within seconds and without auditioning, the first two characters have been cast to play a role in your life. Two unknowns who you know today as Mom and Dad. You are introduced to them in Act I - The Delivery Room. No lines are written. Just a small footnote stating "let them love you." And so you do.

Over time we will be introduced to a whole slew of other characters - siblings, teachers, coaches, mentors, employers, co-workers, friends and even romantic interests. All will play a role in our lives, some a more significant role than others and some relationships lasting longer than others. We don’t know ahead of time who these people will be. We just know they are meant to exist in our life script. It’s impossible to predict when they will walk into our lives or when they will walk out. How we will meet them, what they will teach us, and how they will forever change our world are mysterious as well.

I can honestly say I’ve never actively pursued love. Sure I’ve pursued girls and asked them out, but I’ve never "looked" for love. Ever. And I’ve never felt the need or desire to. Ever. I suppose this is why I never understood people who go on dating sites or ask a friend of a friend to fix them up. I don’t understand that urgency, that endless search to obtain love. I don’t understand why they don’t just let nature take it's course. Love is quite capable of walking into your life without casting it or asking it to audition for the role.

Singles hate hearing the phrase "you’ll find someone when you least expect it, when you’re not even looking." It’s the same cliché advice my Mom shelled out to my sister for years, until one day my sister stopped rolling her eyes and finally nodded her head in agreement. And it happened to me as well.

I fell in love in the very best way - unexpectedly.

It couldn’t have been a more random and unconventional way of crossing paths with someone. And it couldn’t have happened at a more emotionally unavailable time in my life, just a week into my Manwhore Relapse phase. But this post isn’t about how she unknowingly and single handedly tamed my unscrupulous sexual behavior by bringing out the caring, cuddly creature inside of me to the point where even my thick-headed friend "Scum" could clearly see I was falling in love. This post isn’t about that and isn’t about her either. In fact, I promised myself I would no longer write on either subject (read You’re a Grown Ass Man). No, this post is about taking back some degree of control in an unscripted life. While we may not always be able to control who walks into our life or who walks out of it, we can control how we react to it. And while we may not always be able to control who our heart loves, we can control how we heal from it. Basically, if you can’t control a situation, at the very least you can control how you react to it. Which leads me to the BIG announcement...

I’m detoxing from manwhoring.

I realize this comes as a shock to those that know me because in the past I’ve followed the theory that the best way to get over one girl is to get under another one. Of course that only works if you were just heavily in-like. But if you were in love, well that’s a whole other entity in itself! That's something a night of unbridled sex with a mere acquaintance cannot cure, which is why I kindly declined all her advances and offers. I’m not even going to entertain the thought. Because I know me. I know how I feel. And I know I’ll be tempted again like I was last week, but I also know I deserve something more.

~~I think~~ I deserve something beautiful.

We all deserve something beautiful.

You're A Grown Ass Man!

2010-09-08T13:10:00.011-04:00

Dear David,

I’m writing you this letter because someone has to say this to you. And who better to say it than me? Afterall, who’s closer to you and knows you better than I do? I want to apologize in advance for giving you such a public tongue-lashing. But having this talk behind closed doors wouldn’t have as profound of an impact on you as this open letter will. Hate me for it now, but in due time, I’m confident you will one day thank me. So here it is. Sugar-free, blunt and brutally honest - just the way you like it.

First things first. Shut the fuck up. Yes. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. I can’t take your whining anymore! That internal dialog you have running on continuous repeat in your head. Your self-loathing, your extended pity party, your melancholy mopey state of mind. It’s annoying, pathetic and downright embarrassing to witness. So turn that off. Add upbeat thoughts. Shuffle that playlist. Then hit repeat.

Let’s talk about your addiction. You being a love sick crack head. It’s starting to (read "been") freaking me out! You have a slight obsession. Maybe you need some rehab. Or maybe you just need some sleep. Or maybe you should be more concerned that the pop song lyrics to Kesha’s "Your Love Is My Drug" fits you entirely too well! Whatever the case may be, the high you get when she’s around and then the crash and crave you experience when she leaves, is that rush really worth it? At one point I think you would have loudly proclaimed "YES," but now you would have to agree that it’s become detrimental to your sanity, not to mention your self-esteem.

The vast majority of the time you didn’t feel "special" (such a sissy term) because perhaps you aren’t special. And for whatever reason she didn’t show you the same type of supportive friendship she shows everyone else because perhaps you aren’t worthy of it. Maybe that is the truth and maybe that is not. I don’t have any explanations to give you, but there’s no sense in pondering painful questions you most likely will never have an answer to. Accept it. Stop trying to make sense of it. And stop drawing your own ill-formed, and probably woefully inaccurate, conclusions. It is what it is. Cliché, but true.

So you’re in love with her and you miss her. So what? Get over it. Or as they say in the movies, "send her love and light every time you think of her and then drop it." Stop wearing your wishbone where your backbone outta be. And I better not dare catch your glossy-eyed reflection in the bathroom mirror again like I did Monday night. Because if a single tear drops from your face, I will personally punch you straight in your suck hole! Big girls don’t cry. And neither do grown ass men! Your little heart has been broken before and you survived. So your pitiful "but this time it’s different" argument holds no weight here. I’ve heard it all before. Each time is always different and each time is always the same. Heartache is a part of life and dealing with it maturely is called being a grown ass man.

And enough with the overly romanticized idea of showing up unannounced on her doorstep to prove your love. That makes me want to puke in my mouth. Plus, there’s a thin line between romantic and creepy. That borderlines creepy. It also screams needy, clingy and desperate. Not a sexy look on you. Simply put, enough with the love sick puppy bullshit. Get a clue and grow a pair. She’s over it. Now you be too.

Never thought I would say this, but I had more respect for you when you were a manwhore. At least then you were in control of your emotions. You didn’t grant them power over you. And you shouldn't allow negative thoughts about yourself to overpower you either. You've allowed yourself to be unbalanced by love. That's a good thing. But now it's time to find balance again. The first step to doing that is getting your head straight. Write this quote down and tape it to your bathroom mirror...

"Everything that happens to me is the best possible thing that can happen to me." - Zen and the Art of Happiness by Chris Prentiss

That doesn’t just apply to your love life, but rather to all the recent troubles in your life. Forgo your heart for awhile in search of your head. There’s nothing wrong with being perfectly lonely. Above all else, just remember...if you love her, love her. And if you miss her, miss her. Send her love and light every time you think of her and then drop it.

You don’t need a girl. And you don’t need a hug. What you need is a hard, swift kick in the ass. I’m happy to have served it.

You’re a grown ass man! Now start acting like one.

Love,
Yourself

Seriously. Love yourself.

Meditative Fart

2010-09-03T13:50:00.006-04:00

Farts. They’re funny. Or at least to guys they are, ALL guys. And it never gets old. NEVER! Although for whatever reason, most women don’t seem to share that same sense of juvenile humor. While farting may clear a room, it also clears your mind. Because seriously, when your mind is full of so much crap and someone farts, your mind instantly goes blank and relaxes. You live in that moment and that moment alone. (You live in the fart?) It’s like the fart cloud has magical powers to wash your mind clean, if only for a brief moment.

So while I may physically hold my breath and try not to inhale when someone farts, I’m mentally exhaling. And for someone who has difficulty relaxing his racing mind, the fart is a blessing. The fart calms me, even if I’m not doing the farting, especially if I’m not doing the farting. It’s like a crude form of short lived meditation.

And isn’t that the premise behind meditation - to clear your mind of any and all distractions? Although if you’re anything like me, the first time you ever attempted mediation you failed miserably. I kept thinking about how I’m not supposed to be thinking about anything! The more I tried to empty my mind, the faster it filled. I mentally scolded myself to stop it, to concentrate, to focus. It wasn’t a relaxing experience. It was a frustrating chore. And I haven’t tried it again since. This is why I often battle with insomnia. Apparently I’m mentally weak. My brain did not come with a "shut down" button to click.

I lied down on the couch last night and placed a sleepy Bulldog on my chest. Snuggling with him never fails to relax me. But as he fell fast asleep with his tongue out and began to snore, I couldn’t find that same restful state. While the muscles in my body fully relaxed, the tension in my mind only grew. I couldn’t keep the stresses of the day from entering my frontal lobe. And then...he farted. A slow, long, odorless fart. The best kind. It didn’t even wake him, but it put my mind fast asleep.

Moral Of The Story: Tension breakers temporary reshape how we're feeling and put life back into proper perspective. And in that brief moment, all of your troubles seem to melt away and you feel like a worry-free kid again, giggling. Laugh more. Stress less.

Allow Yourself To Be Unbalanced By Love

2010-08-25T11:44:00.014-04:00

"To lose balance sometimes for love is part of living a balanced life." - Elizabeth Gilbert

Remember that. Better yet, live that.

Everywhere you turn lately people are talking about finding balance in life. From religious sects, spiritual leaders and life coaches to blogs, books and even the movies. Elizabeth Gilbert’s New York Times Best Selling Book "Eat Pray Love" recently made the move from chick lit to chick flick, but her story isn’t new. Here is yet another tale of a woman wanting to flee from her life as she goes through a quarter-life crisis. During this mental and emotional meltdown, she divorces her husband and purchases countless self-help books. When those fail to fix what she deems broken, she decides to quit her job, sells everything she owns and runs away to unfamiliar worlds (Italy, India and Bali). In these foreign lands she will live for a year (4 months in each) with hopes she will "find herself." Sure, strong Miss Independent women are highly attractive to me and there is something inherently sexy about traveling abroad. However, as I sat in the theater with my sister (brother brownie points to me for taking her to a chick flick) and she marveled at the exquisite food, the plethora of accents and the breath taking scenery...all I marveled at was how unbelievably beautiful Julia Robert’s smile is! But my schoolboy crush on a Hollywood celebrity is not what this post is about. Nor is it a review of her latest movie. This post is about an "ah-ha moment" we can all discover for ourselves without needing to flee the country to discover it.

A lot of us are control freaks. We are reluctant to give up the reins to anyone or anything, including love. The second we start to sense we are losing grip on a situation, AKA falling in love, we feel the overwhelming urge to pull back instead of allowing ourselves to let it flow through us like rain. To some, falling hopelessly in love with another human being is incredibly frightening because they feel as if they are going to wash away. They fear becoming so submerged in this new person and new relationship that they will lose a sense of who they are and the life they set out to live. But for those that realize it’s sometimes necessary to be temporarily unbalanced in/by love in order to live a balanced life, their identity remains intact. They keep the same core values, goals and dreams. They remain a "me" first and a "we" second.

If you’ve ever been in love, you understand the roller coaster of emotions that comes with it. And when it comes to roller coasters there are 3 types of riders:

Those too frightened to ever climb aboard for fear of being out of control.
Those who climb aboard with hesitation and ride white knuckled, anxious for it to end so they can regain control.
Those who jump right in, throw their hands in the air, relinquish all control and just enjoy the ride...to wherever it takes them and for however long it lasts.

A roller coaster, like love, can leave you feeling dizzy. But isn’t that dizzy state the best part of love? They are the first thought on your mind before you’re fully awake in the morning, the final thought on your mind before you fall asleep at night and a constant thought passing through your mind during the day. I’m fine with not being completely in control of my heart. I’m fine with the sick, queasy feeling I sometimes get in the pit of my stomach at noon because it’s balanced out by the warm, fluttering in my chest I receive at midnight by something as simple as a smiley face message on my phone. Our heart is the most vulnerable part of our body. So to give our heart to someone and relinquish that power is understandably scary, but it’s also empowering and freeing. It’s the same reason why people like music and dancing and drinking. They all temporarirly make you lose control, as does love.

To lose balance sometimes for love is part of living a balanced life.

So while we struggle to live this balanced life that we are constantly being preached to about, perhaps love is best left out of that balanced mix. Afterall, if the heart is the most vulnerable part of the body, then love surely is the strongest emotion the heart emits. And isn’t that balance in itself? Tying the weakest part of the body to the strongest emotion known to man?

Or maybe I’m just trying to start a campaign against conventional and predictable love. How unbelievably boring and unromantic would that relationship be!

Confessions Of A Startup Founder And CEO

2010-08-18T15:48:00.005-04:00

If you’ve been reading my blog for awhile now, you probably know I’m the Founder and CEO of a Network Security Consulting company. But if you really knew me, you would know that although that title may sound fancy and somewhat impressive, there is a side to it that is anything but glamorous. And when it comes to the less than glamorous side of our lives, we are reluctant to share those stories. We are more than happy to boast about tripling revenues, hiring additional employees, signing new clients and expanding our business internationally. But along the way mistakes are made and tiny tragedies take place...all which we hide, or at least don’t willingly share. So when I recently ran into an ex-girlfriend in a NY café and she asked how things were going, I didn’t lie to her, but I did omit some truth. I lied by omission. I purposely left out the less than glamorous side. Here is the confession she did not hear.

For us, payday is the 1st and 15th of every month. And every 1st and 15th of every month I sign seven paychecks, one to each of my employees and one to myself. For the past few paydays, I’ve only been signing six. No one has been laid off, fired or quit. And all my employees have received their checks in full. So you do the math.

There is a show on MTV called If You Really Knew Me. It’s a perfect example of how we all wear masks in life. Like putting our best foot forward, we also put our best face forward. In the show teens are asked to take off their masks and complete this sentence infront of their peers - "If you really knew me, you would know..." Completing that sentence sheds new light on who you truly are as a person, what it’s really like to be you. It’s not just teenagers that wear masks though, adults do too. That’s why that show came to mind when I was talking with my ex in that café. Of course when we were dating she knew me well. Although that was then and this is now. And now...

If you really knew me, you would know I have been working 70+ hour weeks (for weeks) without a paycheck.
If you really knew me, you would know that for the first 2 years of my own startup I couldn’t afford to give myself a paycheck and I NEVER thought today I would be back in that same position. For that, I feel ashamed.
If you really knew me, you would know that I stayed up until 4am last night crunching numbers and putting new plans into place.
If you really knew me, you would know that I come into work every day with a smile on my face and a positive attitude to ensure everyone around me that we are fine - that I’m not worried and their jobs are secure.
If you really knew me, you would know that despite how calm and confident I appear on the outside, I’m currently feeling frazzled and unsure of the immediate future.
If you really knew me, you would know that I’ve learned far more from my failures than my successes in life. And although this "rough patch" is definitely a learning experience for me, I refuse to allow my baby (AKA, my first startup) to become a mere "learning experience." That is not the legacy I had in mind when I gave birth to it and it’s not the legacy I want to leave behind if I should one day sell it.

I remind myself of the tremendous growth and success this company has experienced in such a short existence. And these people aren’t just my employees. I consider them my friends as well. They are like a second family to me. And while I’ve always stood by my motto "I’m your boss first and your friend second," the truth is the Mother bear in me feels obligated to protect them. So I cut myself in the process of saving them, rather than allow them to get cut and bleed on their own. If the wound was deeper, this would not be smart business. But a few scrapes I can take. I’m not going hungry or homeless. I’ve put myself in a financial situation where I am able to survive without a paycheck, at least for now.

I didn’t tell her any of that stuff because not only is it entirely too much detail, but it’s also too heavy and depressing for a passing chat. Besides, I wanted to put my best foot/face forward so I gave her the short, rose-tinted version. While I’m not looking to impress her, I’m also not looking to openly humiliate myself either. Nor did I want pity or a heroic pat on the back for taking one for the team. I just wanted to wear a simple, happy mask.

I've always admired people who can just put it out there and say..."Hey, this is who I am. I'm beautiful and ugly. There are things I'm proud of, things I'm ashamed of. Sometimes I'm smart and sometimes I'm stupid. Sometimes I win and sometimes I lose, but I always give it a good fight." And I always love hearing inspiring stories of people who continue to fight and become great successes in life. But only if their story of success includes the stories of how much they fucked up, failed and got rejected along the way. Not because I enjoy a painful journey, but because I enjoy a journey that’s real! And that’s exactly why I’m sharing this confession.

Because it’s real. Mask removed. End scene.

***NOTE***
Related post of interest. 6/9/09 - Skater Fag

How To Be Alone

2010-08-10T08:26:00.014-04:00

If you are at first lonely, be patient. If you’ve not been alone much, or if when you were, you weren’t okay with it, then just wait. You’ll find it’s fine to be alone once you’re embracing it.

We can start with the acceptable places - the bathroom, the coffee shop, the library. Where you can stall and read the paper. Where you can get your caffeine fix and sit and stay there. Where you can browse the stacks and smell the books. You’re not supposed to talk much anyway, so it’s safe there. There is also the gym. If you’re shy, you can hang out with yourself and mirrors. You can put headphones in. And there’s public transportation, because we all got to go places. And there’s prayer and meditation. No one will think less if you’re hanging with your breath seeking peace and salvation.

Start simple. Things you may have previously avoided based on your avoid being alone principles.

(written and performed by Tanya Davis)

The lunch counter. Where you will be surrounded by “chow downers.” Employees who only have an hour and their spouses work across town. And so they, like you, will be alone. Resist the urge to hang out with your cell phone. When you are comfortable with “eat lunch and run,” take yourself out for dinner - a restaurant with linen and silverware. You’re no less intriguing a person when you are eating solo desert and cleaning the whip cream from the dish with your finger. In fact, some people at full tables will wish they were where you were. Go to the movies. Where it’s dark and soothing, alone in your seat amidst a fleeting community.

And then take yourself out dancing, to a club where no one knows you. Stand on the outside of the floor until the lights convince you more and more and the music shows you. Dance like no one’s watching, because they’re probably not. And if they are, assume it is with best inhuman intentions. The way bodies move genuinely to beats is, afterall, gorgeous and affecting. Dance until you’re sweating. And beads of perspiration remind you of life’s best things. Down your back like a brook of blessings.

Go to the woods alone. And the trees and squirrels will watch for you. Go to an unfamiliar city. Roam the streets. They are always statues to talk to. And benches made for sitting gives strangers a shared existence if only for a minute. And these moments can be so uplifting and the conversation you get in by sitting alone on benches might have never happened had you not been there by yourself.

Society is afraid of alone though. Like lonely hearts are wasting away in basements. Like people must have problems if after awhile nobody is dating them. But lonely is a freedom that breathes easy and weightless. And lonely is healing if you make it.

You can stand swathed by groups and mobs or hold hands with your partner. Look both further and farther in the endless quest for company. But no one is in your head. And by the time you translate your thoughts some essence of them may be lost. Or perhaps it is just kept. Perhaps in the interest of loving oneself. Perhaps all those sappy slogans from pre-school over to high school groaning were tokens for holding the lonely at bay. ‘Cause if you’re happy in your head, then solitude is blessed and alone is okay.

It’s okay if no one believes like you. All experiences unique. No one has the same synapses. Can’t think like you. For this we’re relieved. Keeps things interesting. Life’s magic brings much. And it doesn’t mean you aren’t connected. The community is not present. Just take the perspective you get from being one person in one head and feel the effects of it. Take silence and respect it. If you have an art that needs a practice stop neglecting it. If your family doesn’t get you or a religious sect is not meant for you, don’t obsess about it. You could be in an instant surrounded if you need it. If your heart is bleeding, make the best of it. There is heat in freezing be a testament.

The Journey Abroad

2010-08-06T14:19:00.004-04:00

Currency conversions, unfamiliar tongues and foreign soils. There’s something inherently sexing and exciting about traveling abroad. Whether it’s for business or pleasure or both, I love to travel! I do my best to make as much time for travel as I can. Living out of a suitcase and battling through jet lag is not an uncommon occurrence for me. Sadly though, my passport is not as decorated as I wish because the bulk of my traveling is done in the States. I’m changing that though.

While most people put together a list of popular "must see places/must do things" for their trip, I prefer to go a different route. Forgoing tourist spots and hanging with the locals instead. What better way to get a REAL feel for another culture and the land than from the natives themselves? Learning their customs, sinking your taste buds in their food and engaging in the same activities they deem as entertainment.

When packing for a trip your mind runs in overdrive. You think of all the belongings you need to take and then try to downsize those same belongings to just the bare necessities to lighten your load. Once arriving at your destination, you begin soaking up your new surroundings and cramming in as new many experiences that your body can endure. Then when you arrive back home, you feel torn between feeling happy and sad.

A sense of melancholy washes over you that your trip has come to an end, thus forcing you to return to your daily grind and play catch-up to the life you’ve placed on hold. But you’re also elated that your trip has come to an end because now you’ve returned to what is familiar and comfortable – home. And now you are able to reflect on what your journey has taught you about the world. And more importantly, about yourself. That’s the gift of travel. It cleanses the mind and reinvigorates the soul. It helps redefine what our purpose in this life is and reminds us what living is all about.

Have you noticed I haven’t said where I’m going? I think I’m going to keep it a secret, at least for now. Because like traveling abroad, mysteries are sexing and exciting too. Or in the infamous words of my Father..."Wherever you go, there you are." Clearly my Father is not a man of flowery prose. And I’m not good at goodbyes. So for now, I’ll just say farewell. I have a blog post or two that is scheduled to auto-publish in my absence. And when I come back, may I be a better man. A happier man. A reinvigorated soul.

***Messenger Bag Giveaway Winner Announced!***
Thanks to everyone that participated in the "What's In Your Bag?" contest. I hope you had as much fun peeking into people’s bags (and lives) as I did. Using Randomizer.org, I’ve selected the winner. And the winner of the Rothco Heavyweight Classic Messenger Bag is...Grace Boyle of Small Hands, Big Ideas! Very fitting since Grace is also a travel junkie. So I hope this bag serves you well. Congratulations to Grace!

What’s In Your Bag?

2010-08-03T08:18:00.013-04:00

We are a curious species. I’m not quite sure why that is, but people are fascinated by other people! It’s in our human nature to be inquisitive. We like to know what makes others tick. So we prod. We poke. We peer. We peek. We ask questions. And above all else, we observe. The casual on-looker can gather a lot of information about a person just by observing. The books you read, the music you listen to, the kind of drink you order and even the food you eat says something about you. If you’re reading this blog right now, chances are you’re curious about me. And whether we are tight friends or perfect strangers, I have to admit there’s something about you that I’m kind of curious about too. So what is it about our fellow human that has all of us so awfully intrigued?

The gossipy teenager. The bored housewife. The jealous lover. The perverted apartment super. It seems that people of all walks of life are engaged in all types of nosey activities! And while you personally may never take it to a seedy voyeuristic level, chances are you play a part in perpetuating the cycle. From picking up tabloid magazines and tuning into reality TV, to people watching on the street and Facebook stalking online. We poke our nose in everywhere it doesn’t belong. There’s even those that peak into their party host’s medicine cabinet - something I’ll never understand!

So when I came across the Flickr photo group "What In Your Bag?" I wasn't surprised. And just like 18,000+ of its members, I too was curious to see what’s in people’s bags! I have no idea why because in real life I couldn’t care less. But there’s something about it being displayed so openly on the Internet that makes me want to view the mobile contents of a stranger’s world. Perhaps to get a glimpse into who they are as a person. I've decided to dump out the contents of my own laptop messenger bag so you can get a glimpse of me.

Here is what I've found...

passport
sunglasses
pocket-sized Moleskine
pens
directions written in a stranger's handwriting
car keys
expired Metro card
USB thumb drive
1 lonely condom
stack of business cards
pack of peppermint gum
iPod
cell phone
book - "Zen and the Art of Happiness" by Chris Prentiss
$3 left from a cabbie’s tip
a phone number of someone I don't remember meeting
stainless steel traveling coffee mug
blue stress ball
Targus cable lock
handheld wifi detector
misc CDs
various ID/security badges
eye drops
napkin doodle
cordless mouse
my laptop
and a crumbled up dry cleaning receipt

So what does this say about me (other than I carry too much junk and should clean out my bag more often)? I don't know. But I am curious to know what's in YOUR bag! It doesn't matter if it's a messenger bag, backpack, purse, or sack lunch. Dump out your junk and tell us what you have.

Every person that leaves a comment on this post will be automatically entered to win a new Rothco Heavyweight Classic Messenger Bag. Winner will be selected at random and announced this Friday, 8/6/10 on my blog here and on Twitter @davidstehle. Good luck!

***NOTE***
This is not a paid post and my blog is not sponsored by any company in any way. This bag was originally offered to me, but since I already have a messenger bag, I thought one of you might benefit more from it. So basically, the only reason for the giveaway is because I love you, my readers.

Mainlining Love, Success And Happiness

2010-07-28T16:10:00.011-04:00

I watch the TV show "Intervention." Because in a really fucked up way, I'm envious of junkies.

Like a train wreck, I find myself wanting to turn away, but can't. The show contains that good shocking element that hooks/addicts you into wanting to see more. I watch in horror and in delight as druggies snort massive quantities of white, powdery substances up their membrane shredded noses. I nod my head to the right and stare as an emaciated 120lb father, husband and former star athlete ties his arm off with a leather belt and shoots lethal poison in his veins. Each featured drug addict stumbles around. Their eyes roll into the back of their skull and their mouth gapes open. They fall to the floor in an overwhelming high. Physically they are grounded. Mentally they are flying. And looking on, I’m envious.

While part of me is saddened and disgusted by them, another part of me is left in awe. Don’t get me wrong. I'm not interested in taking drugs. And I’m not stupid enough to think that the lifestyle of a drug addict or an alcoholic is a glamorous one. In fact, most of the world has pretty much given up on them. They aren’t expected to live up to any expectations. Let me repeat that...

They aren’t expected to live up to any expectations.

Do you know how unbelievably freeing that would be?

We all want the big three in our lives - love, success and happiness. But striving to reach the big three often leads to stress, stress and more stress. We become frustrated when what we want so badly seems so difficult to reach. Days when you feel like one of those experimental lab rats that's exhausted every avenue and is trapped in an eternal maze, unable to climb over or gnaw your way through the walls. Red-eyed and white-haired, frazzled out of your mind! If only we could pop a magic pill down our throats or mainline love, success and happiness straight into our veins. If only it were that easy.

It's said that average people love being average because then nobody bothers them. And while I’ve always been someone who wants to live rather than just exist, there is something admirable about the Average Joe who is satisfied with just getting by in life. To not feel the pressures and the stresses from society. And to not even feel burdened by FEELINGS. To just feel happy and free because the weight of the world isn’t resting squarely upon his shoulders.

I know a guy that holds a two Master's Degrees, but is content working a mediocre paying shipping job in which the only hiring requirement is that you can lift 50lbs. Some would say he's wasting his life. That he's settled for less and is capable of achieving so much more. That he's in a rut, has become too comfortable and needs to break the cycle. But I say leave him alone. He's one of the happiest people I've ever met because he doesn't suffer from "Barbie Idealism" - that unhealthy mindset of wanting ourselves and our lives to be so perfect that you actually forget how to live.

So while the rest of us struggle to find the love of our life, figure out how to propel our careers to the next level, and settle for nothing short of being deliriously happy...the shipper already has it all figured out. He has a wife, a couple kids and a job that pays the bills. While this typical life isn't for everyone, it's all he needs because it's all that his soul requires to be happy. I wasn't born to be an Average Joe because my soul always has, and probably always will, require more. Although I wish I was content with the slow IV drip. Because while I sometimes feel like I carry the weight of the world across both shoulders, the shipper is hauling a mere 50lbs on just one. You can't help but be envious of that!

***NOTE***
You can also see this post featured on BrazenCareerist.com

Communication Gap Between Sexes - Don't Blame The Ears

2010-07-22T14:42:00.012-04:00

• Two Tales: Unbridged vs Abridged
Ask a couple who just returned from vacation how their trip was and you’ll hear two very different variations of the same story - an unabridged and abridged version. From the woman, you’ll hear a play-by-play, hour long, detailed packed tale full of highs and lows, tragic and triumph, love and lose. And from the man, you’ll get a one sentence reply, "it was good." If you’re a woman comparing these stories you’ll immediately overanalyze and jump to conclusions thinking something must be wrong! Did this man NOT enjoy himself? He barely said anything! He must want to breakup with her and she is clueless! But if you’re a guy comparing these stories, you simply reply "cool" and go about your day. It’s no secret that men and women are very different when it comes to communication styles. Women want to immerse you in their world. They really stand behind the "sharing is caring" motto they learned as children. Whereas men just give you the bullet points, the highlighted Cliff Notes.

• Fiction or Non-Fiction: Men Suck At Listening?
It seems the only thing more frustrating to a woman than a man’s lack of storytelling is his inability to listen. Men are constantly getting crap for not listening! The fact of the matter is if you are talking a mile a minute and throwing all sorts of info at me and your story is jumping all over the place causing me to play connect the dots with the bullet points, I’m going to feel overwhelmed and confused. And when I get to that state, I start to tremble and silently whimper. I tune you out because you’re making my brain hurt. It’s a survival method!

• When Someone Finishes Your Sentences
I recently read a great article titled "The Art Of Listening" by ChaChanna Simpson. She talks about her biggest pet peeve - interrupting someone when they speak. She empathizes how YOU CAN’T POSSIBLY LISTEN TO SOMEONE IF YOU ARE TALKING AT THE SAME TIME. While I totally agree with her, I personally like it when someone can finish my sentences. To me that says they "get me." And it saves me the trouble of having to find the words, or waste their time getting to the point of what I was saying if they already know what the point of what I’m trying to say is! When that happens, you just know the two of you click and there’s an instant bond there - something that’s not always easy to find. Of course when they don’t "get you" and they try to finish your sentences, then it just comes across as a rude interruption and is annoying.

• She’s Looking For An Ear, He’s Looking For A Solution
Like I said, there is a HUGE difference between men and women when it comes to communication. Women often say they like a guy who enjoys talking, but what they really mean is they like a guy who enjoys listening to THEM talk. I don’t mean that in a rude way. What I mean is that women often just want someone to vent to, someone to listen. However, men by nature are problems solvers and many have trouble not offering advice in hopes of solving their girlfriend’s problem rather than just offering her an ear and nothing else. I’ve learned this lesson at a young age from growing up with two sisters. And I’ve learned that more often than not, I’m to shut up and just listen.

Now when it comes to men, I know that when I have a problem some of my female friends think I just want to vent to them. So they will listen to me, but not offer any solutions or advice. As a guy, that frustrates me because usually the whole reason I brought the topic up is because I’m seeking help, not just an ear to listen. And there lies the communication barrier. Perhaps I could break through that barrier if I started the conversation by saying three words - I need help. A phrase I rarely, if ever, say. Because it goes against my strong, independent, problem solving mindset. (You can add "stupid" in there if you like as well.)

• Listening Is Done With Your Heart
It's the old "you hear me, but are you actually listening?" If you're a man, you've probably heard this snappy tone projected your way on a least a handful of occasions. But something women should be aware of is a lot of men have been trained to just hit the red record button in their brain when a woman starts to talk. That way when she asks if he’s listening, he can simply hit play and spit back all that data. So while it may appear he was listening, he may not actually be listening. I think TRUE listening has to come from caring. When you care about someone and what they have to say, you’ll listen with not just your ears, but with your heart as well.

So what does it mean if you started forming a comment to this post before you even finished reading this post? It means you're a bad listener (er, reader). But hopefully some of what I've said today can help break down the barrier and bridge the communication gap between the sexes. Because the first step to better communication is understanding that people's wants, needs and communication styles vary. When it comes down to it, the communication gap between the sexes has less to do with the gap between your ears and more to do with the gap in your heart. When you care more, you'll listen more. It's as simple as that.

Learning How To Breathe

2010-07-20T15:37:00.003-04:00

I don’t know how to breathe.

I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s true. What was once a natural born instinct is now something I find myself struggling with. For most people, breathing is done exactly opposite of how it should be! Studies show that around 40% of us breathe incorrectly. Breathing is more than just the process of taking oxygen and carbon dioxide in and out of the lungs. Breathing regulates your state of mind, your emotions, your concentration and so much more. Learning to breathe the right way will help you to be healthier, calmer and give you the ability to handle stressful life situations. Plus, it just makes you feel better! And who doesn’t want to feel better, to live a happier and more peaceful life?

Think back to the first time you stood up and gave a speech infront of your high school class. Your palms sweated. Your heart pounded. Your voice quivered. Your stomach felt nauseous. That nervousness, fear, stress and anxiety wouldn’t have existed if you had known how to properly breathe. It’s normal to tense up and resort to shallow breaths or hold your breath completely when faced with fear. But what many people don’t realize is our body’s natural defensive mechanism is flawed! Physical, mental, and emotional stress all put extreme strain on our bodies. We get ourselves so worked up to the point where we can’t even breathe! It’s that breath before the first kiss. Or those gasps during the last mile of the race. If we just knew how to steady our breathing we would be ok.

As a fighter I’ve been taught the importance of proper breathing. When the fight is on your feet, you gain more power in your punches and kicks if you exhale on their release. When you’re tossed on your back in the middle of the octagon and the fight is on the ground, your body is tense, but you have to train your mind to relax. In that vulnerable position, you must control your breathing and not panic while fists are raining down on your face! Of course that’s always easier said than done, but anything in life worth doing is always easier said than done. Proper breathing is no exception to that rule. And while I may know how to properly breathe while fighting, when I’m out of that cage and sitting in my office, it’s like I’ve forgotten everything I was taught!

Breathing is one of those things that most of us don’t pay attention to. As I’m writing this, I’m breathing. In fact, I’m writing ABOUT breathing and I’m not even THINKING about breathing. While my body may be automatically performing this essential task for me in order to sustain life, it’s not necessarily doing it in the best possible way. Breathing is one of the few bodily functions that can be controlled both consciously and unconsciously. The goal here is to learn the proper techniques to conscious breathing. Then, with practice, those same techniques will soon become second nature to your body. The final result will be new and improved unconscious breathing! Basically, we are perfecting the art of breathing...one breath at a time.

To breathe correctly, you must divide the breath into three parts - lower abdomen, middle abdomen, and chest. When inhaling, first fill up the lower abdomen with air, then the middle abdomen, and last the chest. When exhaling, the air in the chest goes out first, then the middle abdomen, and lastly the lower abdomen. You must physically push the abdomen out when inhaling and in when exhaling. (That is not a typo.) When done correctly, there is no need to pull the abdomen in because it is done effortlessly. If you can consciously breathe the right way by forcing the abdomen out during inhalation your body will soon pick up this rhythm. The human brain has many functions and one of them is to follow the breath. Breathing is not about just holding the breath in or out, it’s about breathing long and deeply. Do this by breathing very slowly, using the full capacity of your lungs and completely exhaling. The best way to breath properly is to build up little by little. As the lung's capacity starts to expand, your mind becomes calmer and clearer.

The magic of breathing starts when you master exhaling. During exhalation there is a natural urge to inhale immediately after exhalation due to the discomfort it initially brings. When this natural tendency calms down you will be able to reach a higher level of consciousness. Retraining your body to breathe this way is harder than it sounds. But remember, anything worth doing in life is always easier said than done. Although I’m quite confident that once you learn how to properly breathe, it will be one of the best things you’ve ever done for yourself. Your stress will decrease and your focus will increase. Everyone seeks balance in life and breathing is the first step to finding that balance. So steady your breathing. And take it slowly, one breath at a time.

***NOTE***
You can also see this post featured on BrazenCareerist.com

Either I Don’t Have A Heart Or I’m Doing It Wrong

2010-07-14T16:44:00.001-04:00

Rumor has it that Yoga’s Camel Pose is supposed to cause this huge flood of suppressed emotion to erupt while you’re in it. I can see why people (or maybe just women?) might feel a bit more emotional in such a vulnerable state - hips out, head back, heart exposed. I imagine that contorting your body in such a physically defenseless position with your throat arched open to attack would lure any self-imposed emotional predator to lunge, like a mountain lion going for your jugular! Or something like that.

I think everyone would agree that at first Yoga feels a bit unnatural. And perhaps there lies the problem. We are trying to reconnect ourselves to the Universe in the most awkward of ways. Whether you’re balancing the entire weight of your body on the palm of one hand, or if you have both of your feet dangling from the tops of your shoulders, Yoga is just...well weird and often painful. So why does it hurt so good? Simple. Because for the first time in your life you are opening up your mind, body and soul to something outside your comfort zone. Yoga feels unnatural at first because the movements have not been in our nature, but probably should be.

So what’s not in the nature of most men? Opening up to their emotions. So with all of Yoga’s bendy benefits aside, I decided to give this Camel Pose thing a try. To see if it would...well, you know.

Granted, I knew I wouldn’t burst into tears, but yet I was too curious not to try it. It’s like when I was a little and rumor had it that Little Mikey from the LIFE cereal box died after his stomach exploded from eating a bag of Pop Rocks and chasing it with a can of Pepsi. So I had to do the same thing to see what would happen, of course!

So the other night, as my own private experiment, I did the Camel Pose. There I was. Alone in my living room. All contorted. Feeling the burn in my thigh muscles. Taking the recommended 5 deep breaths. Holding. Holding. Holding. Holding. Holding. Then slowly coming out of the pose. Reaction – nothing. I felt zero, zip, zilch, not a thing. So does this mean I don’t have a heart? Or maybe I’m just doing it wrong?

I have to be honest, I would be embarrassed if it had made me cry (especially considering I can count the total number of times I’ve ever cried in my life on one hand). But I’m also somewhat disappointed I didn’t have any reaction, at all. Emotionless and numb. Much like any Yoga pose, I’m left just feeling awkward.

When You Hate Your Own Writing

2010-07-09T17:44:00.015-04:00

If you’re like the majority of writers out there, you’re a self-doubting bundle of neuroses determined to believe that your writing will never be good enough. That’s the tortured soul of a writer. I’ve always been my own worst critic. Writing makes me happy. Reading what I’ve written usually does not. I hate my own writing. Well, at least 95% of the time. Hardly a day goes by when I don’t feel the need to obsessively edit a post, even after publishing it. And nearly every post I publish lately, I have to fight the overwhelming urge to completely delete it. (This post will probably be no different.) Even browsing through my blog archive makes me cringe.

I was a sophomore and the last one left sitting in my college writing class. I had completed the in-class writing assignment, but was reluctant to turn it in. I kept marinating over the words, refusing to let the ink dry. I don’t even recall what the paper was about, but I do recall what Dr. Jordan said to me. She told me..."A real writer is like an artist. They never feel their work is complete. There is always going to be something you’ll want to change or improve upon."

When it comes to writing, the second you call it complete, you’ll think of something new to add. Something you should take out. Something you should reword and say differently. You’ll begin to overanalyze and rewrite it to the point where you question if you have some mild form of O.C.D. or if you’re just one of those annoying perfectionists that everyone hates. You’ll become frustrated when you read another writer’s take on the same subject and feel as if they stole the words right out of your skull! Even worse, you’ll convince yourself they said it better than you ever could. You won’t trust your own voice any farther than you can throw your own pen.

It's a bizarre phenomena the way writers see-saw between a love/hate relationship with their own writing. You're in the throes of a story or an article. You feel inspired. The creative juices begin to flow. It’s all blooming before you and you’re experiencing that writer’s high. This feeling can last a few hours, even a few days, until you look back at what you've done. Then the angst sets in. The writing you thought was superb suddenly seems clunky and inadequate. The phrases you particularly liked now seem awkward and ill-formed. The metaphors lack depth and the imagery is weak. The writing is awful...or at least to you it is.

If any of this resonates with you, take comfort in knowing you're not alone. All writers go through this. At some point, every writer thinks they are the worst writer in the world. It's has nothing to do with talent or dedication or practice or experience. It has to do with self-doubt. With being human. And maybe with the fact that you ARE a real writer?

I wish I was more easily satisfied. To write a few lines and think, "perfect - nothing needs changed!" But I don’t know a single writer that operates like that. I need to come to grips with the fact that I rarely, if ever, will be 100% satisfied with what I write. Even if I pour over every single word, I still think I’ll read over it and find flaws. Still, I want it to be perfect. I want it to impress everyone, especially myself. I want to be proud of what I write, even if it’s not leather bound and labeled a best seller. Is that asking too much? I’m sure it is. The fact is everyone doesn’t have to love my writing, but I sure wish I would at least learn to like it.

My Guest Post: Asking 'How Was Your Day'

2010-07-06T12:59:00.005-04:00

"There is not enough appreciation in our world. We don’t say thank you, give compliments, draw attention to someone’s hard work, or tell people how much they mean to us, as much as we should. I believe in the importance of appreciation, and I’ve been on a mission to urge others to appreciate. But, I’m only one person with one blog. So, I’m starting a revolution. I have reached out to the greatest bloggers I know and asked them to share their thoughts on appreciation. Some will write from a business perspective, some from personal experience, but I know all of them will have something valuable to share. You may think that you don’t need to appreciate people. They already know how you feel, someone else will recognize them for their hard work, you’ll thank them the next time you see them. The truth is, you never know what tomorrow will bring." - Samantha Karol

New York blogger Samantha Karol, from Life Is Like A Box Of Chocolates, recently asked me to be part of her Appreciation Revolution series. I'll admit that the guest post I wrote for her took me forever to complete! Although I loved the idea behind her Appreciation Revolution series, I had reservations about the subject I finally chose to write on. I thought about changing the subject of the post completely because to me it read mushy, made me sound pathetic and was just flat out embarrassing. In fact, I deleted the post twice, then rewrote it three times. I chopped it up and spliced it back together once more before deciding enough was enough. I was just going to put it out there. So here it is...

Asking 'How Was Your Day'
"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things." - Robert Brault

In August 2009, I started a Gratitude Journal. I’ve always been able to appreciate the little things in life. So, writing a daily entry in a Gratitude Journal seemed like it would be an effortless task. Although I soon realized that the hard part wasn’t finding something to be grateful for, but rather finding 5 minutes at the end of each day to devote to writing about it.

Not long ago, I was caught writing in that little, black Moleskine. And while I hid my written words from prying eyes, I did make a verbal confession outloud. With a big, stupid grin on my face I proclaimed...

Me: I think I may be falling in love.
My Sister: Ha. Really? How do you know that?
Me: Because she always asks how my day was.

I know. It’s ridiculous. Falling in love with someone because they ask how your day was? To everyone else it’s called "engaging in light conversation." It’s a simple question, a polite gesture. But to me, it was extremely rare, and meant the world! It sounds bizarre, and probably quite sad, but until recently, I’ve never had a girl ask me how my day was. Never! I just don’t think they ever cared enough to ask, or had any genuine interest in hearing the answer.

Continue reading the full post here.

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

2010-06-30T11:38:00.021-04:00

Independence. You’ve been campaigning for it since you were waist-high. At age 5, you were stomping your foot saying "I can tie my own shoe!" At age 15, you were stomping your foot saying "I don’t see why I can’t stay out until 11:00 like everyone else!" And at age 25, you are stomping your foot wondering why you can’t afford to go out like everyone else. Part of growing up is gaining independence. Part of growing up is also learning how to manage money. To have freedom you need financial freedom. Although for many 20somethings, instead of feeling free, they feel financially crippled! Your 20s are supposed to be the time when you leave the nest, spread your wings and fly solo. And while every 20something dreams of soaring on their own, these days many are finding it difficult to take flight. Before even entering into the "real world," the typical college grad is already thousands of dollars in debt!

I recently took a Charles Schwab Financial Fitness Quiz to see how I fared against my 20something peers. I scored a 97, failing on one question for not having a will. While I’ve always been good with money, I haven’t always been debt-free. I was ecstatic to be handed my first "real world" paycheck in my early 20s, but the excitement was short lived when I quickly discovered how thinly I had to stretch it to cover all my living expenses and student loans.

Today I could sit here and tell you my simple philosophy on money. To save and invest more than you spend. To only spend money you have today, not money you expect to have tomorrow. And if you want more, to work harder. I could brag about how I max out my 401k, how I pay my credit card off in full every month, and how I refused to buy a new car until I was able to pay for it upfront in cash.

Or I could be humble and tell you about the time I decided to start my own business and lived on Ramen Noodles because I couldn’t afford to give myself a paycheck for the first 2 years of running my own start-up company! I could talk about the time I cut DirecTV, took the bus, skipped vacations and even skipped dating because I didn’t have money to buy a girl flowers let alone a decent meal. And then there was the Winter of 2009 when I found myself homeless for 2 weeks and how I’m now a huge advocate for having at least 6 months of living expenses saved because you never know what life will throw at you.

I could tell you all those things and lecture you like a child, but instead I rather empower you. Empower you with the one story about the one person that has empowered me to push forward no matter what life threw at me. She's 90. And she’s the strongest woman I know. She’s my Grandmother.

She grew up during the Great Depression and came from an extremely poor family. At age 20 she met a wealthy, well known architect. He impressed her with his Ivy League background, his smooth talking ways and promises of a house with a white picket fence and horses. They married, had 2 kids and he provided the lifestyle she once only dreamed of. Then one day he decided he would have a drink. And he never stopped. He went out, did as he pleased, and who he pleased. He controlled the money and her, but couldn’t control his drinking. The alcohol took over and he lost his job because of it. Out of work he couldn’t pay the bills. So to buy liquor he secretly tapped into his children’s college funds and spent every last cent. On the verge of losing their home and everything they owned, my Grandma checked him into rehab. When he completed rehab and was released, he drove himself to the nearest bar for a drink. It was around that time my Grandma decided to file for divorce, something that was unheard of in that day! With 2 children to support, no money, no home, no job skills and only a G.E.D. to her name...my Grandma was forced to depend on herself. And she’s done so for the last 60 years. She is the original Miss Independent.

With money comes power. Without it comes fear. That is why my parents made sure my sisters and I all went to college so we could make our own money, be in control of our own destiny and not have to count on anyone to support us. And YOU should not count on anyone to support YOU. Because maybe you have a trust fund or maybe you have a wealthy spouse, but you never know when either one might run out.

When you were a child independence wasn’t given, it was earned. The same is true today. If you want independence and freedom you have to earn it. And it starts with being financially responsible for your own life.

Disclaimer: This post is part of the 20SB Blog Carnival: Friends & Money, sponsored by Charles Schwab. Prizes may be awarded to selected posts. The information and opinions expressed in this post do not reflect the views or opinions of Charles Schwab. Details on the event, eligibility, and a complete list of participating bloggers can be found here.

Forced Creativity

2010-06-24T09:30:00.005-04:00

"A writer is somebody for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people." - Thomas Mann

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And the worst part...I am not a writer.

Related post of interest. 7/20/06 - Stifled Creativity

The Quarter-Life Crisis Doesn’t Exist For Dudes

2010-06-17T13:22:00.001-04:00

***NOTE***
Recommend reading this first. 12/19/05 - Twenty-Something, Life Thru Our Eyes

The quarter-life crisis. It’s a phrase you hear a lot of lately. It’s that period of life immediately following the transition from adolescence to adulthood, AKA your twenties. It seems that every 20-something has something to say on the topic. Most are either going through, or have already gone through, the quarter-life crisis. And for those who haven’t, the ones that have are more than happy to warn and prepare you for what to expect! They are eager to shell out advice and lend support to fellow quarter-life crisis suffers. Just browse through some Gen-Y blogs and you’ll quickly see countless posts on the dreaded subject. The quarter-life crisis is something every 20-something can relate to...unless you’re a dude. Or maybe I should say...unless you’re this dude - me.

While a mid-life crisis is supposed to hit you at age 40 or 50, a quarter-life crisis is supposed to be around age 25. Well, my 25th birthday came and went and nothing happened. There was no crisis. No meltdown of epic proportions. No counseling. No crying. No dropping to my knees in prayer. No self-help books. No hugs. No running off to foreign lands. No new aged retreats, workshops, religious awakenings, yoga or meditation of any kind. No nothing. Am I missing something? Should I consider myself lucky? When I started to think about the absence of my quarter-life crisis, I realized that none of my male friends had experienced this either! Only female friends seem to complain of such an event. And then it hit me. Maybe there’s no such thing as a quarter-life crisis for dudes?

While my Dad never had an affair, he did go through a very cliché mid-life crisis in his 50s when he bought a Limited Edition 40th Anniversary Ruby Red Corvette. But he doesn’t recall ever having a quarter-life crisis of his own. I’m quite certain my sister went through one in her 20s, or maybe she just complained a lot?

Females mature faster than males in life. But is it possible that males are more emotionally mature when it comes to dealing with tiny tragedies? That males are so desensitized that they’ve learned to adapt better than females in times of confusion, frustration and failure? Or maybe it’s the total opposite and guys are just emotionally retarded? That we wouldn’t recognized an emotional crisis even if it kneed us in the balls! Males are taught at a young age to be emotionally strong and as a result have become less expressive with their feelings. The "Suck It Up, Stuff It Down, and Carry On" theory where one suppress their emotions so much that they actually bypass the quarter-life crisis! Perhaps that’s it! Perhaps we hide the symptoms of a quarter-life crisis from the world so well that the symptoms are unrecognizable even to ourselves! And even if such pain is occurring, few would talk about it because it’s simply not manly to admit you’re struggling. That which doesn’t have a voice ceases to exist.

Think about it. When was the last time you heard about a guy crying in the office bathroom? Probably never! But in just the last week alone, I know of three 20-something girls who have done that. It’s no secret that women deal with their emotions in a much healthier way than men. So no one ever makes fun of a girl for losing it a little. Instead they are embraced by sites like Stratejoy.com that thrives on helping these 20-something women conquer their quarter-life crisis and find joy in life again. There is no such safe haven like that for men. Which leads me to believe either one of two things must be true...

A) The quarter-life crisis doesn’t exist for dudes.
B) Stratejoy.com for men would not be profitable because dudes are either too dumb to realize, or too proud to admit, when they’re suffering through a quarter-life crisis.

Until recently, I didn’t even know "Life Coaches" were real! I thought it was a made-up term, a cross between a psychologist and little league coach. They are more than just your own personal cheerleader though. These people are highly trained and ridiculously wise. It kind of freaks me out. That someone is capable of managing my life better than me! And then that makes me feel dumb. And then it makes me feel like I should have one, which is why I’m glad Life Coaches and sites like Stratejoy.com exist to help 20-somethings everywhere deal with the quarter-life crisis (even if it only caters to women).

Still, I’m confused. Have I become some cold, heartless, shell of a man that brushes so much off his shoulder that I’ve never had to bear the weight of the quarter-life crisis? Or should I be bracing myself for the delayed tidal wave’s inevitable smack that’s long overdue, but on it’s way?

Do You Dream Of Being Published?

2010-06-15T07:21:00.060-04:00

Do you dream of being published? To not just be a blogger or a freelance writer, but to have a book? Author - it's a title many of us dream of adding to our resume. But if you’re anything like me, you don’t have a clue what it takes to become a published author. All you know is it sure sounds fancy! You dabble in writing on the side and admire "real writers" from afar. But a little part of you always wonders if you too have what it takes. Do you possess the talent? For close friend and fellow blogger, Jenny Blake, the answer is yes! She just landed her first book deal with Running Press for Spring 2011. While her dream of becoming a published author is now a reality, it's not too late for YOU to see your name in print as well! Because Jenny wants YOU to be a part of her new book! Here's how...

First off, for those of you who don’t know who Jenny Blake is, shame on you! She’s a magnificent creature and to know her is to love her. Google girl by day. Life Coach by night. Triathlete on the weekend. Not sure where she fits the time in to write a book, but she does. Incredibly smart, multi-talented and sweeter than cupcake frosting. Her blog, Life After College, provides simple, practical tips that help you focus on the BIG picture of your life...not just the details. And because there is no manual for the real world, adjusting to life after college can be a very confusing and challenging time! So that’s where Jenny comes in with all sorts of invaluable information regarding life, work, money, happiness, personal growth, productivity and even love. And this is where YOU come in because Jenny needs your help.

The book is a compilation of tips, quotes, advice, exercises and recommended reading for every area of someone’s life after college. And every chapter of the book will contain crowd-sourced wisdom from college grads. So if you're a college grad (of any age) and would like a shot at seeing your name in print, all you have to do is answer 10 short questions.

Also, be sure to sign up for the LAC Book Project Newsletter to follow Jenny's step-by-step journey and discover what it really takes to become a published author. It's a process few writer's talk about, with plenty of ups and downs, tears and triumphs.

While I often find myself "in aww" of writer's, Jenny isn't much different from you or me. She's just a girl who had a dream and chased it.

Thoughts that once only existed privately in her own head. Feelings that once only existed privately in her own heart. She shares them on little scraps of paper. Jotting down notes in Moleskines, scribbling on the back of cocktail napkins, inking words into the palm of her hand. She hops out of the shower, dripping in lather, just to etch a phrase into the foggy mirror. She wakes up in the middle of the night to pour over pen and paper. Wherever and whenever the creative bug bites, she itches it. And somehow after months of writing small pieces here and there, it all begins to fall into place. It snaps together like a jigsaw puzzle. Like a work of art. Her tiny, little masterpiece nears completion. Her ideas, stories and experiences bound together. Ready for public display on a bookshelf. She’s writing her first book. And it’s nothing short of beautiful.

Congratulations Jenny. I couldn’t be prouder and happier for you. Come Spring of 2011, you can add "author" to an already very impressive resume.

Tell Me Something Good

2010-06-09T08:17:00.052-04:00

When I was a kid, I remember asking my Dad why he watched the news. His reply, "because you need to know what's going on in the world." But to me, it was all bad news - robberies, fires, car crashes, murders, wars, etc. I didn't understand why anyone would want to hear about that! It all seemed so dark and depressing. How could that be beneficial to his day?

These days, I'm an avid news junkie. However, some things never change. For the most part, the news is still filled with crime, anguish and despair. When they aren't reporting about the stock market plummeting on Wall Street, they are showing us close-up video of BP's oil gushing into the Gulf of Mexico. And in between those segments, we are reminded that there is still a war going on in the Middle East...but hey there's a new iPhone 4 out!

That's how they always try to end local and national news, with an uplifting tale. A feel-good story to leave viewers feeling a little less blue after suffering through 30 minutes of nothing but bad news. Lately it seems like I all hear is bad news. Yesterday morning I heard "we have your test results" from my doctor. Then last night, Amazon.com tells me "we're sorry that item is out of stock." Of course some news is worse than others, but today all I want is some good news for a change!

Tell me something good!

I credit the phrase to my friend Grace Boyle (or as I like to call her, Gracie). Because whenever I am feeling down or irritated, Gracie instructs me to tell her something good! It forces you to change your mindset. To stop dwelling on the negative and refocus on the positive in life. I think everyone should try it, like right now.

From finding $5 in your pocket to having packed a 5 star brown bag lunch, anything goes. Big or small. Whatever makes you happy. I want to hear it. Just tell me something good.

(And feel free to throw a smiley face in at the end. That always helps too.)

Should I Have A Will?

2010-06-02T14:09:00.011-04:00

Should I have a will? It's a question many people ask, but one I never have. And if you’re anything like me, chances are you haven’t given it much thought either. Statistics say that 70-80% of Americans don't have a last will and testament! While that number should be discomforting to hear, it actually gave me some comfort in the fact that I’m not alone in ignoring one of life’s most important responsibilities. Writing a will is something I haven't given much thought to, partially because I'm so young and partially because I'm not afraid to die. Although I am afraid to imagine my family and friends grieving if/when that day should occur. It's upsetting to imagine them gathered around a conference table listening to the reading of my last will and testament. That is IF a last will and testament for me even existed, which it does not. I offer life insurance to my employees, but when it comes to taking care of myself, I think little of it. So in essence, I care more about their lives than my very own? I’m thinking that’s not normal.

I don't even have a beneficiary listed on my 401k. I'm not married. I don't have any kids. I don't even have a girlfriend. What I do have is a dog. Would he inherit the bulk of my estate? He is my best friend and the closest thing I have to a roommate. He’s sort of like my child, or at least I love him like one. So would a Bulldog qualify as my next of kin? I’m thinking probably not. But if I needed one good reason to write a will, he would be it. I want to make sure he goes to someone who can love him and care for him in the same manner in which I have. And really, shouldn’t we offer that same type of comfort and support system to all of our loved ones whether we’re alive or dead?

Sure money and material possessions are just soulless items, but it’s naive to think that the assets left behind don’t play a role in the days, weeks, months and even years after one’s death. For your family, the absence of a will only adds stress in an already stressful time. During any crisis, a family should come together and be strongly united. But when a will doesn’t exist, far too often a family becomes divided. They fight over these silly, soulless items. And why? Simply because you failed to clarify your final wishes. You didn’t take one of life’s most important responsibilities serious. And you didn’t care enough to lessen their burden.

Last night my Mom called asking for my social security number. She was revising her will and wanted to make sure that I received 1/3 (divided three ways between me and my two sisters) of my parent’s estate. Just her mentioning the word "will" struck terror in my heart! So I made countless dumb jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood and distract myself from the real conversation at hand. My greatest fear in life is losing either of my parents. I know their death is inevitable and that day will come. But for now, I don’t even want to think about it! Although for the first time, I asked the question I had never before asked...

Should I have a will?

My Mom’s answer was a short and profound - YES! I was surprised to learn both my sisters already had living wills. Then again both are older than me, married and have kids. I’m a young, childless bachelor. Although my status doesn’t matter and neither does yours. A will is for everyone - old, young, rich, poor, male, female, married, single, childless, childfull (is that even a word?). A lot of us think we're immortal, or at least we act that way by not planning for the eventuality of our unexpected death. The fact is you never know what's going to happen and when! So it's a good idea to make sure you have things organized the way you want them to be. After all, once you die, you won't be there to sort things out. And it's best not to leave those additional hardships and messy details on grieving family and friends that are left behind.

I realize I should be taking my own advice and writing a will as well. I like to find excuses not to by saying "it’s too hard" or "I don’t understand all the legal jargon." I feel overwhelmed naming people in my will and assigning dollar amounts. I have a fairly good idea what my net worth is, what my company is valued at, what my house has been appraised for, my car, my sportbike, etc. My problem is that I become an emotional mess! I feel like no matter who I name or how I divide it up that it wouldn’t seem fair. That I would hurt someone’s feelings and I wouldn't be there to apologize, or to explain, or to right my wrong. Just thinking of writing a will makes my brain hurt! So I avoid it because I’m weak, or lazy, or maybe I’m just flat out scared?

Writing a last will and testament feels a lot like writing a suicide note. It's so heavy and deep. Dark and depressing. It's so...final. Similar to paying taxes, writing a will is one of those chores in life we don't want to do, but know it's in our best interest that we do. I think if you can just get passed the unpleasantness of this task and get it over with, you’ll feel better. You’ll rest more soundly at night knowing that if the morning doesn’t come, you will have taken the necessary steps to show a final act of love to those who do see the sun rise another day.

Your Girl's Vibrator Is Your Friend, Not Your Foe

2010-05-27T12:06:00.060-04:00

Everyone knows diamonds are a girl’s best friend. But she also has other besties - like chocolate, flowers, designer shoes, pretty smelling things...and of course her vibrator. Now maybe girls don’t get themselves off as much as guys, but it’s no secret girls masturbate too. And any girl that says she doesn’t is either a liar or a giant prude! You do it. Guys know it. And we love it! Or maybe I should only speak for myself? Because the sad truth is some guys don’t love it. Yes, there are plenty of guys out there that are intimidated by your nightstand goodie drawer. Whether it be a vibrator, or a dildo, or a vibrating dildo, they freak out because they fear it will replace them. They worry they won’t be able to satisfy her like a high powered, long lasting, battery operated toy can. I disagree!

While my penis may not be able to vibrate at 9 different speeds like your We-Vibe can, your We-Vibe can't kiss you. It can't write you love letters or whisper in your ear. It can't take you out to dinner at night or spoon with you late into the morning. And it can't hold your hand proudly as it walks down the street. So take that We-Vibe! You're not all that! Well, actually maybe you are. Let’s just say I hear things. Lots of good things, especially on level 4! Word is you’re pretty ahhhmaaazing and you get the job done in record time. Still, I’m not intimidated by you. Anything you can do, I can do better. Plus, I don’t need plugged in and recharged. I am always ready for you and at your disposal, over and over again. Bonus - unlike you, I don't have a weird latex smell to me either.

I had a friend call me once in panic mode because his girlfriend wanted to go to an Adult Store with him. My reaction, "and this is a problem why?" I just could not understand him. There shouldn’t have even been a conversation about it, let alone an argument! So let me be clear. If she ever asks any of these questions, your response should be as follows...

Watch a porn together? YES!
Go to a strip club with me? YES!
Try some sex toys out? YES!
Construct a sex swing? YES!
Use sex toys with sex swing? YES!
Throw a midget, a whip and some chocolate syrup in the mix? Well yes, but let’s exclude the midget for now.

The point is, people need to expand their sexual horizons. Stop being so uptight and so scared. Nut up and have some damn confidence in yourself. And if you suck in bed, maybe this is the time to work on your skills before she dumps you (and your useless tongue and dick) for a Costco-sized value pack of AA batteries. Your girl’s vibrator is your friend, not your foe. You should be excited for her and encourage her naughty toy sessions. It’s normal. It’s healthy. It’s sexy! Seriously, do you have any idea how hot that is? If you think getting a lap dance from a stripper or watching two lesbians make-out is hot, you obviously haven’t heard play-by-play details of her pleasuring herself. Or even better, watched your girl pleasure herself infront of you! And chances are she will want you to join in and use it on her! Just thinking about that makes me happy in the pants!

Want to be good in bed? Then stop being selfish in bed. Your main goal should be pleasing her and worrying less about yourself. You should want to satisfy her by any means possible, even if it means you need to stop with the stupid ego and welcome a toy in.

Still nervous? Then get the We-Vibe. It's sex toy you can both use together while having sex. Fun for her. Fun for you. Fun for everyone! Nothing intimidating about that, right? Afterall, having sex with a vibrating vagina? Yes, please!

***NOTE***
Related Post: 8/9/06 - Get Your Groove On With "OhMiBod" (iPod Vibrator)

#BiSC Breaks The Cardinal Rule Of Vegas!

2010-05-25T13:46:00.015-04:00

The Cardinal Rule is the foremost important, most paramount rule of all! And for the past 5 days I’ve watched countless bloggers break this Cardinal Rule when they Tweeted and blogged about their Bloggers In Sin City weekend getaway! You know the saying - what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. It’s like the first rule of Fight Club - you don’t talk about the Fight Club. So why are all you silly girls sharing tales, photos and even videos of what happened in Vegas? You’re allowed to commit sins IN Vegas, but what you’re not allowed to do is commit the Cardinal Sin by talking ABOUT Vegas! Every time a Tweet passes through my TweetDeck app or a new blog post appears in my Google Reader about the BiSC meetup, I feel like I should shield my eyes. That I need to look away because that is info I should not be privy to. It should never be shared with the outside public, AKA non-attendees.

Right about now you're probably wondering..."Hey David, you're a blogger. So why didn't you attend BiSC?"

My answer is a simple one: "Because I don't have a vagina."

I don’t have a vagina. I don’t fully understand the required girl lingo. And I can’t picture myself running into anyone's arms and squealing "EEEEE" at an ear bleeding high pitch. Basically, I just wouldn’t fit in. I’m too tall, too flat chested and sometimes I have facial stubble. I’m a dude. Or at least I was last time I peered in my pants. From my understanding, Bloggers In Sin City had 69 attendees, the vast majority which were girls...with one gay guy tossed in. So you see, BiSC is more or less a chick fest. It's a yearly event where bloggers from all over get together to party in Las Vegas. And apparently blog about it upon their return?

Now you would think after hearing tid-bits of info about a massive sex toy giveaway, some buff bodied blogger girl dancing on tables, lesbian kissing, a stripper pole and a dead hooker that I would want to hear more! However, despite my curiosity being peaked, I will refrain from indulging my ears. Why? Because WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS IS SUPPOSED TO STAY IN VEGAS! I don't even want to hear about the dude in the argyle sweater vest than no one would fuck. Because afterall, no one fucks a man in an argyle sweater vest! And further more, who wears a fucking SWEATER in the Vegas desert? So ladies, thank you for not getting him laid. He needs to learn how to dress himself properly first before he even thinks about venturing into dark, warm love caves.

Out of all the tales, I'm most curious about this so-called dead hooker. Was she a REAL hooker and is she REALLY dead? Because if this story is true, then it may just beat out my tale from my last Las Vegas trip. Without giving TMI and sticking to the Cardinal Rule of Vegas, I got a "model" (or so she claimed to be) to go back to my hotel room with me. Sounds awesome so far, right? Well it turns out she was more of a model/coke head. I found this out when she asked to use my bathroom, heard a thud and knocked on the door to ask if she was ok in there. The girl was lying on the floor, ODing on me! But I won't get into all of that because WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS IS SUPPOSED TO STAY IN VEGAS! Remember that BiSC girls.

If I do attend next year's BiSC meetup, which isn't likely because I most likely won't have grown a vagina by then, I expect at least 3 of you dirty whores (said with love) to accompany me to a strip club. Not Chippendale's! I'm talking about a REAL strip club, a female strip club. And without naming any names, I know at least 3 of you are into that.

***NOTE***
Related Post: 9/21/09 - What Happens In Vegas Doesn't Always Stay In Vegas
A heartwarming tale of how one of my lustful sins in Vegas (literally) followed me back across the country and showed up on a doorstep. And how, on the very first date, I had to explain to a girl that I had already slept with her roommate. AWKWARD!

Token Straight Guy

2010-05-19T07:21:00.111-04:00

"You're acting too straight."

My sister scolded me backstage at a photoshoot. The models were running back and forth in 5 inch stilettos, half naked. While they were looking for their next ensemble, I was looking them up and down...and apparently in too obvious of a manner. How did she expect me to react? I wasn't gay, so I certainly wasn't checking out what brand of shoes they were wearing! When you throw candy infront of a boy, you can't expect him not to droll. While I may have some meterosexual qualities about me, I don't think anyone could mistake me for being gay. But there I was, trying to blend in, even though it was so obvious I was the token straight guy.

In a way, it's kind of a shame gay guys are gay because of all the prime "picking up women" opportunities they have before them! They are constantly mingling with women in places where most straight men would never venture - like fashion shows, hair salons and yoga classes. Ahhh, yes. Yoga classes. Where girls are dressed in tiny sports bras and stretchy form fitting pants. Where they are bending, sweating, inhaling deeply and exhaling heavily. What is there NOT to love? To me the math is quite simple. Yoga = flexible. Flexible correlates to sex. Sex = good. Therefore, yoga girls = good. But this is not why I'm thinking about signing up for a yoga class. Or is it?

Last year I was talking with my friend Marissa who is a fitness freak, health nut and yoga girl extraordinaire. She was trying to convince me to take yoga, specifically Bikram Yoga, AKA Hot Yoga. Hot Yoga is where you hold different yoga poses for 90 minutes in a room that is heated to over 100 degrees! Now I've always believed that women don't sweat, they glisten. However, I firmly believe I would be a disgusting mess in that class! In fact, I may actually die. I picture myself getting so sweaty that my hands slide off the mat and I crack my face on the floor - blood everywhere! So even despite her encouragement, I've been reluctant to try it for fear of dying a bloody yoga death...and because I feel kind of gay taking yoga. What do yoga dudes, correction straight yoga dudes, even wear? All I know about yoga is the little my sister taught me just for fun. And it was fun, especially the power yoga! I can hold a crow pose all day like nobody's business!

Most likely I would be the only guy in the class! Or at least the only straight guy. Now normally I wouldn't complain having the male to female ratio weigh so heavily in my favor, but I don't want to be seen as the creeper. You know, that token straight guy in the class that is there strictly because he's looking to pick up chicks. The guy who is too busy focusing on the perfect, firm ass beside him rather than what the instructor is trying to teach him. No one likes that guy. Although I'm really not that guy because I honestly want to take it because it looks like fun. Seriously, stop laughing. It's true! And for someone who has had a massive headache for 3 straight days now, I think I could use something to help me unwind from work and just life in general. Yoga is the total opposite of my MMA training and I like that. But is the token straight guy accepted in yoga class or will he shunned at the door?

They say yoga has many benefits. Not only is it a wonderful un-stresser, but it has been known to strengthen one's mind by increasing your IQ! Yoga can also strengthen your body while improving your sex life!

So let me get this straight. If I take yoga, I'll be surrounded in a roomful of sexy eye candy as I become an un-stressed genius who is an unbelievable lay? Yes, please! Sign me up for that!

Losing Your Religion

2010-05-14T09:14:00.071-04:00

Excerpt from 1/17/07 - Original Sin, Part 1 - The Confessional

There is a tiny room with one small window. Not a window that opens to look out, but one that opens to look within. As if the light pierced a stained-glass window and sliced right through me. Illumination is not always pretty. The light is not always kind. But cold hard truths are something we all have to deal with. My Mom made me venture in. "You're big enough now that you don't have to sit in front of the priest. You can talk to him through the window screen." I recall rolling my eyes. Just the thought of going in there made my skin crawl. The queasiness in my stomach. Beads of sweat forming on my palms. I was visibly scared. I didn't know what I should say. What exactly does an 8-year-old need to confess? What sins could I have possibly committed at that age? I was a little young to be smoking crack and sleeping with hookers. Plus I had forgot parts of the "Our Father" prayer. Would I get in trouble for that? I dropped to my knees, slid the window screen open and began my anonymous confession.

Today, 20 years later, I have another confession.

I'm not sure I believe in God.

Just typing that scares me, nevermind saying it outloud. To see it infront of me and to own those words is unsettling to many, myself included. And I'm sure readers are going to crucify me for writing this post, but it's something I've been questioning for some time now and perhaps you have been as well.

I was raised Catholic, but I haven’t seen the inside of a church in years! With the exception of Christmas Eve, I can’t say I ever attended a mass willingly. The only reason I enjoyed Christmas Eve’s midnight services was because of the live Ave Maria performance. A song so beautifully sung that if a God does exist, he's letting his presence be known in the form of that woman's incredible voice. But clearly something is wrong if the only reason I’m even considering attending church at all is just for a once a year, 3 minute performance of Ave Maria.

I think people like to believe that there is some higher power because it gives them great comfort, a sense of inner peace. It makes them feel like there is purpose to life and even to death. And it gives them someone/something to pray to in times of weakness and someone/something to praise in times of celebration. Plus, the kid inside all of us still wants to believe in something magical. It just makes everyday life more exciting! Although, how many of us are praying to a God we don't believe in?

I would be lying if I said I didn’t drop to my knees to pray the morning my Mom was rushed to the hospital. I would be lying if I said I didn’t question God when a close friend was diagnosed with cancer. I would be lying if I said I didn’t become angrier and angrier towards God with every passing day I watched her suffer. And I would be lying if I said I didn’t stop believing a God existed when "God" failed to save my best friend from his suicidal tendencies. If he is God, couldn’t he have redirected the bullet or misfired the gun? Still, despite all the mixed emotions (the anger, the uncertainty, etc) people continue to cling to religion like a security blanket we are afraid to part with. If anything, people usually wrap themselves tighter in that blanket as they grow older. I often wonder if some people believe because they feel if they don't, then something bad will happen to them? Or perhaps they are worried that society will shun them - label them as wrong, incomplete, or even evil for not having religion? I don’t think anyone would ever describe religion as "cool," but it is something that never seems to go out of style. God is kind of hip.

If people want to believe in a God, then who am I to stop them? If it adds value to their life, then I'm happy for them. And if people choose to turn to a higher spirit to pull strength from and to feel empowered in their life, then more power to them. I just don't want them preaching to me and pushing their religion on me. As far as my Catholic upbringing goes, I don't believe or follow most of that stuff anymore. Actually, I’m not sure if I ever did. I tend to think a lot of it is garbage that I don't agree with. The Catholic Church is the western world's oldest and largest institution with a history spanning almost 2,000 years! The problem is they're so deeply rooted in tradition that they refuse to evolve with the times. And because of that, their teachings no longer apply to today's modern society. I simply refuse to believe that being gay is a sin. That using birth control is a sin. And if you’re having trouble in your marriage you’re supposed to speak to your priest! What does he know? The church won't even permit him to marry! So I’m to take marriage advice from someone who’s never been married? Ridiculous!

Do I think there is a God? I would like to think so. If nothing else, it’s simply comforting to believe that a higher power is watching over you. Plus, it would explain some things that science just can’t answer. I wouldn’t call myself religious, but maybe spiritual? I just believe in being a kind, good hearted human being and living a life with a "pay it forward" attitude. My apologies to my Grandmother for saying this, but I’m somewhat disgusted with the Catholic Church. So perhaps the real issue isn’t that I’ve lost my religion, but I just need a new religion.