Category: Life

REALLY DO THAT THING

This is so good, from ‘No one benefits from you scrolling and feeling sad.’

“I think the root of the problem is the globalization of all problems.

Now, it feels like anything bad that happens anywhere in the world is somehow relevant to me and my responsibility. It’s like, I’m not allowed to be happy as long as someone, somewhere, is having a bad time.

Especially with global problems, it’s like, how are you allowed to smile when there’s climate change? These problems are really bad, but you can’t change everything yourself.

No one benefits from you scrolling on your phone and feeling sad and then going to Starbucks.

The antidote is figuring out what you care about, what you’re good at, and what you like doing that can make the world a little bit better.

Then, really do that thing.“

KITTY HELP

I put this photo in Substack Notes, but taking my own advice and doing my best to also make sure I put this sort of stuff on my own blog, too. Substack can go away tomorrow, but as long as I keep paying my yearly server bill and domain name registration, this post will never go away.

IS THIS REAL?

“What did we do before talked about politics all the time?”

A great question posed to me by one of the most politically adpet people I know.

It’s wild, in that social media has conditioned us to constantly talk about politics, at least since 2016 or so.

That was the start of Trump’s foray into politics, when Twitter became as absolute shitshow, but where I’d stay until 2023 for some reason.

But I think social media has just made us think and connect like being online has been the answer the whole time, and everything leading up to it was wrong.

As if the before times, when not everyone had a personal computer at home, or a laptop that they could use on the couch, or a smartphone so they could check it constantly.

Maybe the current mode of living was created by companies that never had our best interest in mind.

Because, honestly, the more we’re online, the more we’re seeing ads. Even if we’re not using an ad blocker, we see ads on social media. Pre-roll ads on YouTube videos.

What if the reason we’re so perpetually online is because it’s in the best interest of those that build computers and sell the ads?

What if it doesn’t have to be this way?

MEETING A NEW PERSON

From ‘On a Saturday Afternoon,’ by Aimee Bender:

But even though I am making steady proclamations about who I will go for next, and why, and how it will all be different, it is brutal to imagine the idea of meeting a new person. Going through the same routine. Saying the same phrases I have now said many times: the big statements, the grand revelations about my childhood and character. The cautious revealing of insecurities. I have said them already, and they sit now in the minds of those people who are out living lives I have no access to anymore. Awhile ago, this sharing was tremendous; now, the idea of facing a new person and speaking the same core sentences seems like a mistake, an error of integrity. Surely it is not good for my own mind to make myself into a speech like that. The only major untouched field of discussion will have to do with this feeling, this tiredness, this exact speech.

The next person I love, I will sit across from in silence. We will have to learn it from each other some other way.

Ahhh, that line, “it is brutal to imagine the idea of meeting a new person.”

KEEP IT GOING

This is from Cassidy Frost’s latest, How to Dedicate Your Life to Music When You’re Fucking Scared:

“You don’t need to believe in yourself, you just need to act in service of whatever thing you do believe in, no matter how small.”

Stack up Small Acts daily and weekly. They don’t need to be heavy, cost a lot of money, or take up a lot of time.

As time passes, these Small Acts will create a mountain built on all the cool things you’re doing.

Then I saw this is Lauren’s latest newsletter a day later:

“If you keep swimming, shooting your shot, putting in the reps, things are bound to look different or at least pleasantly more weird a year later.”

Heck yes, “pleasantly more weird.”

The work doesn’t guarantee you’ll achieve some new level of success. But the cliche “it’s the journey, not the destination” rings true for a reason.

Act in service of yourself. It has to start there. Yes, help may come, but you must work towards something for someone to believe that helping out is worth the effort.

BYE, DAD

Last week was a lot.

I found out my dad died on July 30th, 2024.

We don’t know the exact time he passed, but he died alone in a trailer park in Florida. We didn’t have much of a relationship in the last seven or so years of his life for reasons I won’t go into, but I want to share a bit about his music.

My dad was an absolute music theory genius. He spoke in keys and modes and time signatures. He could play multiple instruments, listen to a song once, and play it for you backward and forward.

When I was a kid, he played in a country rock band called The Buckaroos, playing at ski resorts on the weekends and clubs during the week. He made good money playing guitar in the eighties.

Live music started to fade in our area, so he started teaching music out of his house. One of his students was a fiddle player who moved to Nashville and toured with a notable country artist or two.

In his later years, he’d seek out bass players and drummers, always looking to form a jazz trio. He had some luck getting gigs back in PA and later in Florida.

But when these groups fell apart, so did he.

He would still play at home, with his little Polytone amp that he bought in the 80s, playing his be-bop jazz and whatever else came out from his decades of experience.

This is from my recent post “Outdated expectations kill creative dreams,” over on Substack.

That photo at the top of this post was from dad’s old digital camera. It’s so old it takes 2AA batteries.

GRABBING NOTHING

Photo by Seth Werkheiser

All the hours spent on social media over the last several years – it stings. Hours I could have spent walking around town with a camera, or just sitting on a bench thinking about nothing.

Nothing, space, the void. Right now these are the most important items on my daily to-do list. Mind you, this doesn’t mean I spend 75% of my day in meditation, or staring at the walls while ignoring my cat, or my work stuff. I just mean capturing moments of nothing / space / the void when I can get it.

This means hour long runs with no music. Walks around town when I’ve completed work tasks. Leaving my phone outside of the kitchen when I’m making and eating lunch.

The goal each day is to grab as much nothing as posslb.e

EXERCISE SO HARD YOU CAN’T THINK DURING IT

The subject line above is from John Durham Peters, as quoted from this post ‘Research Techniques.’

Running is my exercise of choice. I warm up very slowly, to the point where the first 20 minutes always feels like a mistake, and I should be doing something else. But then I’m four miles into a run and start thinking “maybe I should do eight miles today!”

But really, the joy of running for me is not thinking, or at least, not fretting. Not worrying.

There’s taxes to be paid, deadlines to meet, tasks to complete, sure. Those will always be there.

But when running, and when I’m truly present, I notice just the important things – the ground below, the sweat on my arms, watching my breath, keeping my heart rate in check.

In that moment, at mile one or eleven, they’re the most important things in my life. If I don’t pay full attention, and stay clear minded about such matters, it could be trouble.

So running forces me to be present, which really makes you wonder what’s important in life. Like I said, the taxes, the deadlines, yep… those will never end.

But someday I will run my last mile.
Someday I’ll run up a favorite hill one last time.
They’ll be a time when I can’t just walk out the door and stroll around the block.

That’s why I keep moving, and spending money (ooops) on things that keep moving, like ultralight backpacks and tents so I can be in the woods more, or another pair of trail shoes because I use them enough that they fall apart.

So I wouldn’t say I exercise that hard, but I flirt with that level of pain. I get close enough. It’s a challenge, but not impossible.

A few months ago I started running up this road that leads to the Appalachian Trail, and it used to take me 30 minutes, from the parking lot to the peak.

Back in April it took me about 45 minutes. I gained some weight, hadn’t been running so much.

It’s June and I’m at about 34 minutes, which is 34 minutes of not thinking about a fucking thing in the world except reaching the top and not dying.