The Reset of Importance

How much real work will I do today?

How much of my time will be spent on actions for the sake of self-improvement?

How much of my time will be spent serving others well because I am present and focused?

How much real work did I do today?

How much of my time was spent on actions for the sake of self-improvement?

How much of my time was spent serving others well because I was present and focused?

If we are not equally excited to answer both sets of questions each day, we need to ask ourselves where in our day did what’s important to us suddenly become less important? More importantly, why?



The Burden of Truth

Facts are wonderful. Their existence lends order to our chaotic world. They are the concrete slabs supporting the malleable structures we call life. However, to agree with a fact is not a special skill. Acceptance, on the other hand, is a skill. We often struggle accepting what is, because we’d prefer for things to be the way we want. What do we most often want? To be right! At least that’s what our ego’s desire.

We’ve all been in situations where we’ve been right; not because our views were our own, but because we were stating facts. When the persons in the wrong in these instances hold firm to their beliefs opposed to the truth, if we find ourselves maddened and becoming flustered, who are really we mad at? The opposing view or our egos? What good becomes of our anger? What of our own pain does it reveal? If we focus our attention to dissect what’s really bothering us, we’ll find that the greatest source of our frustration is allowing ourselves to be bothered by what’s outside our locus of control. If we can’t accept what burdens us, we’ll always be burdened by that truth. When we realize the challenge involved in learning how to accept our own burdens, we also realize we’ve lit the pathway to being compassionate and tolerant of others struggling with the burdens of accepting truths of their own.

Effort + Luck = Nothing

Yesterday, I attended a professional development for work. During a breakout activity, my group was answering a question about what we felt was needed in order to be successful at a particular something. We quickly came to the conclusion that nothing or “no thing” was needed, but things are nice to have to supplement success in this area. We then came up with the equation Effort + Luck = Nothing. At first, it seems ludicrous, however, when you evaluate the equation, it reveals how you can make “something” from “nothing”. Nothing – Luck = Effort. Take nothing and take away luck and you’ll be left with only effort. Effort creates something from nothing. Nothing – Effort = Luck. Take nothing and take away effort, and you’ll be left with only luck. Luck creates something where there was once nothing. The equation checks out!

It serves to remind us that what we need is little; what we desire is more. All the experience and knowledge we accumulate is only valuable when it’s used in situations where our egos don’t benefit from putting it to use. When our egos drive our desire to demonstrate how much we know so we may “educate” others – that’s a recipe for failure. It’s a recipe for making assumptions. Math provides a world of correct and incorrect. Life is more gray. We experience situations and learn from them, however, when a similar situation arises but with different people, we can’t plug these new people into old equations, because their experiences and what they bring to the equation are variables.

If we choose to enter into all new situations knowing we’ve been there before, we’ve already made a crucial miscalculation. However, if we choose to enter to into all new situations knowing we know nothing (yet) about them, our experiences and knowledge along with our ignorance can serve to help us gain understanding as a means of being more open to finding solutions – to finding success.

Binge-processing: The laundry of our souls.

Netflix and DVR. Two wonderful inventions that save us from watching commercials and having to wait impatiently. In regards to consumption of whatever we deem to be entertainment, this is a luxury. We can do it on our time, opposed to real-time. We are not bound by the constraints of regularly scheduled programming.

If we’re honest with ourselves, we’re also trending more towards dealing with our emotions in a similar fashion. We push them down or aside until we feel we have the time to deal with them. We attempt to binge-process our emotions. The trouble here is that as our emotions pile up, they get harder to fathom how to deal with, like a pile of laundry spilling out of the hamper onto the floor. It gets overwhelming, so we continue to avoid. And, how do we avoid? We seek to be entertained. There’s an escapism attached to entertainment. We look to be entertained to take our minds off what’s bothersome to our lives. It’s indeed another attempt to avoid dealing with ourselves. It’s a vicious cycle.

We’ve all experienced moments in our lives when our performance has been optimal. When we are on top of our to-do lists. The times we attack our days like a dog attacks a squeaky toy: we break the neck! And, it feels good to do so! When we are in these modes, we feel powerful. We feel unstoppable, because that positive momentum is fueled by dealing effectively with each moment. Emotions don’t muddy our focus. What typically derails us? In a word: disappointment. Something or some “thing” blocks our path and causes an emotional reaction we choose not to deal with in the moment. It begins as a few pairs of socks, but not before long, the hamper is overflowing once more.

The more we choose to deal with our lives in the here and now, the more we choose to process our emotional responses as they arise, the less likely we’ll need to seek refuge in escapism. Where we hope that the laughter, tears, horror, disgust, or interest we seek from the hours of our uninterrupted entertainment consumption will be a fitting cure for what ails us. The reality is that the commercial breaks offered in real-time entertainment are the best time to get some laundry done.

For Now We Live. For Now, We Live.

“For now we live” can be interpreted two ways. We can read it as meaning we live for the present moment – for now. Or, we can read it as more of a declaration of our impermanence – for now, we live. A simple, yet powerful mantra for reflection.

It reminds us that no matter what challenges we face today, the Life we don’t know will be here tomorrow. If you purchased a plot of land to be used as a public cemetery for use in your community, you may in fact own that land, but the deed to the land grants you no ownership over death. Upon death, the land will inevitably own you.


Ledger is defined as “a book or other collection of financial accounts of a particular type.” We’re all likely familiar with this definition. However, it can also mean “a horizontal scaffolding pole,” or “a flat stone slab covering a grave.” The latter is sometimes referred to as a ledger stone or ledgerstone, which is usually found on the floor of churches with inscriptions about the deceased.

What’s interesting about the word “ledger” is that the essence of stoicism lies within all three of its definitions. To live stoically is to support (scaffold) our days by taking stock of what’s important in our lives and keeping our affairs in order, because we never know when the debt we all pay will come due.

We live soundly when we leave our days without loose ends. We sleep soundly when we are unburdened – when we leave nothing but rest undone. No pillow can support a head that carries the weight of the world.

The Russian Dragon

When I first began reading Modern Drummer magazine in 1989, I recall there being an advertisement for a device that monitored a drummer’s rhythmic accuracy. It was cleverly called the Russian Dragon, because as it’s tag line suggested, it let drummers know when they were either rushin’ or “draggin’ their tempos.

If we look at our lives as songs, we each have our own song. Our songs have tempos. That tempo is not dictated by us. It’s dictated by time. We don’t always know how much time we have. We don’t know our songs’ duration. What we do know is that we have been known to attempt to rush through life by making unhealthy or unsafe choices. We’ve also been known to choose do to nothing for stretches of time as a means of falsely cheating time. The reality is that we have the choice to work on our timing; to develop a solid or deep pocket to use more drumming terminology. To be in the groove: the present.

When drummers are nervous about their meter (their ability to keep good time), they tend to rush. In non-drumming terms, this is anxiety. When we fear what comes next, we get anxious, and our minds rush with nervous anticipation. When drummers believe their meter sucks, perhaps playing a song while thinking about how much they’ve rushed the song in the past, they will drag their tempo. They play with a defeated cadence. In non-drumming terms, this is depression. When we are bummed about what’s happened before, while trying to be present. It will not work. There will be latency.

When we choose to focus our energy on either pushing or pulling, it’s extra effort – for our bodies and our minds. It’s best to lock into the groove. That’s where life innately want us to be, and yet for some reason, it’s also a paradox, because it’s also quite difficult to achieve. Perhaps when our minds race with thoughts or get bogged down by negative self-talk, what we sacrifice most is our ability to listen to the music. Sometimes we just need to take a moment to find the pulse: our pulse. Our pulse to our song.