For some people, it takes a dog or a baby or a grandkid to wake up.
I have to start taking care of myself!
But, really, what changed?
You get one life. One chance to do something special.
One chance to make it last.
Why do you need something to love more than yourself before you can start loving yourself?
Alas, it’s probably a reality.
Go adopt a dog.
Where does depth of character come from? True cool.
Does it come from observing the cool kids? What they do and how they do it?
Or does it come from reading, writing and thinking? Attaining wisdom and inner peace.
I think the answer’s clear.
Tom Brady, when questioned by Bob Costas in an interview before the Super Bowl about his knowledge of deflated balls had three choices.
- Admit wrong-doing, but downplay the issue.
- Deny any knowledge or involvement (flat-out lie).
- Side-step the question and not really answer at all.
Choice one would have been best, obviously.
Choice three, you’re not a liar. But is it better than entering your actions boldly (choice two)?
Seems that honesty, forthrightness, and issue mitigation is the right move if you’re caught red-handed. That, and ultimately 100% ownership of your mistake.
Do what you do because it makes you happy.
This, of course, makes other people happy and, eventually, life-long fans, customers and friends.
In other words, work inside-out.
Attempting the opposite is a recipe for disaster.
Loud music makes it tough to hear. Hear others and hear the voice inside your head.
It’s fun to be around loud music. It wakes you up, too.
It lowers your inhibitions. One more beer. I gotta get that t-shirt.
The opposite of a place with loud music? The library.
People spend zero dollars at the library. And they fall asleep there. And they certainly don’t leave saying they had a good time.
Yes, libraries are wonderful places.
But unless you are one, you might want to consider putting on some loud music.
Why do I do the things that I do?
Because I want to live forever.
Yeah, I know I won’t.
But in the words of Banksy, you die twice. Once when you actually die. And again when someone says your name for the last time.
So those things I do? I’m trying to get as close to forever as I can.
Some days are computer-heavy. It’s a reality for almost everyone, these days.
It can come in many forms:
Those days, you could spend the entire day glued to the computer. No breaks.
But you shouldn’t.
Set a 55-minute timer and then get up for five.
Walk around. Stretch. Get water. Run to the bathroom. Dance. Whatever.
You’ll feel better.
And, with hardly any effort, you just got 40 minutes of exercise during a highly productive 8-hour work day.
Who’s gonna tell your story?
- Your spouse?
- Your kids?
- Your students?
- Your followers?
- Your organization?
- Your frameworks?
- Your inventions?
- Your writing?
- Your music?
- Your movies?
- Your photos?
- Your legend?
Lotta people and things can tell your story.
It’s up to you to write it.
Can you believe it?
- The dude sitting next to me is taking up half my seat.
- The flight attendant has the loudest, most annoying, most never-ending voice.
- That guy is smoking a nasty cigarette three feet from my face.
Yep, it’s happening. Believe it.
And ya might as well laugh at it all.
They may be beautiful. And they may be something you’re fond of.
But they’re just things.
If they break, you can get a new one. Or have it fixed.
If only the same were true for our bodies.
So the question is, why are you so damn careful and emotional about your hardwood floors or your new car or your iPhone and NOT your mind or body or soul?