One by one, you do. All of you. Yes, even you. You change the world. As it spins on its axis. You are out there, touching and smiling and talking and feeling. You create history.

I see these movies about painters, writers, and other creative geniuses. I see them, and I think to myself, Yeah! I could do that. Of course, then there are other complications. I am regularly amazed by movies. I hear people say things in them that I didn’t realize other people thought. I thought I was the only one. Figures.

These characters take chances. They take risks. They step out into the unknown. They risk failure. And the successful ones transcend the bullsh*! experience that many of us experience.

I have taken risks. Heather and I stepped out into the unknown when I left a guaranteed paycheck for a non-paid copywriting internship. There was no telling what would come of it, and I couldn’t go back to my old job. The first year was like riding the Texas Giant (roller coaster – sheesh, where have you been?). I went from hope to disappointment, hope to disappointment.

Today, I see the world somewhat differently. We never change completely, even when our lives are transformed. Remember that.

As I said, I have taken some risks. I have avoided others. To this day, I do not know if I can write a book. I have yet to push through. I started a book four years ago that I would love to complete, but I haven’t seriously picked it up in 3+ years. But it’s still there. It’s in my heart. I know a hundred other people must feel this way, but I feel this kinship with C. S. Lewis. There was something in his fiction that I haven’t found anywhere else. I found magic. Real magic. Tolkein can’t compare. Robert Jordan can’t compare. All the usual suspects can’t compare. Lewis knew things he never fully divulged.

…I’ve just avoided a bad joke about women (though probably not, since I’m admitting to it). God made each one of us unique. Something in us must shine. Watch the film, Coach Carter. The truth is worth hearing:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine as children do. It’s not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own lights shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

So the question again: How will you change the world? You don’t have to tell me. You don’t have to tell anyone. But think on it.

Ahhh…Nothing like a cold Thai malt liquor on a Saturday afternoon….right? Whole Foods Market, the regional mecca of everything tasty and organic, had a sale today on Singhai, a tasty Thai malt liquor.

Let me tell you, after more than a month of parasite cleanses and mostly healthy foods (yes, I was bad once or twice), anything resembling beer was a welcomed sight. Would I recommend it? Sure, if you want to try something new. Not so much, if you want great taste. Then again, taste is apparently subjective (for some reason, not everyone agrees with my taste?!?!? go figure…). In its favor, I must admit that I added two lemon curls which only made it taste like lemon flavored alcohol.

Final verdict: It was worth the experience, but not a second buy.

Don’t forget to change your clocks back one hour tonight! It’s that one night of the year when we get to catch an extra hour of zzz’s or stay up an extra hour late. The party animal in you that has lain dormant for years is begging for a little holiday.

Spend it how you want. Just take advantage of the time you have. Life is but a breath, you know.

An empty mailbox is an empty mind. It is a symbol. A sign of the times. Though most of us haven’t received an actual handwritten letter in months if not years, we still make the daily trip to the mailbox in hopes of a surprise – only to find more bills and enough ads to line a birdcage. Why do we even bother? The thought had never occurred to me to remove my mailbox, though I had a renter who did so and never received any of my letters concerning collections and maintenance. Convenient for him. Guess he had no hope of receiving a letter.

I think of The Postman, a film starring Kevin Costner set in a post-nuclear civil war America. Digital technology had been wiped off the continent. All that remained were isolted villages with walls to protect themselves from raiders. And one man pretending to be a postman was able to revive a country, one village at a time; all because of the hope and warmth passed from hand to hand with a simple letter. This is no joke. It is not a grandiose idea concocted by Hollywood (well, the post-nuclear civil war part was, but that’s all).

Letters are powerful. They are powerful, in part, because of the time and effort required. Letters are the classic, aged red while emails and instant messages are the fruity wine coolers. Both can bring a buzz, but one imparts a taste of history and warmth while the other is forced and overbearing. Modern technology carries none of the magic or mystery embodied in a simple paper envelope. I wrote letters to my wife when we were dating. I still write her a letter every now and then. But she lives with me, so sending her a letter via the postman is a bit unnecessary. Don’t get me wrong, I am very glad she lives with me. But a part of something is lost when the letter has no need of travel.

So I must look elsewhere to write my “letters.” There is always family in Oklahoma. I could write them, and I do on occasion. Not quite as poetic or romantic as writing one’s beloved or dearest friend. Still, it can be very rewarding. Once upon a time, the greatest minds of the age corresponded to one another through letters. Some of these have been collected and preserved for posterity. We can now buy volumes of letters photocopied between lovers or fellow professors. Discussions on the meaning of life, the makeup of the universe, and the price of love can all be found in these precious documents. They are the very thing which make women swoon. They can make a man giddy with anticipation. Where are the letters? We must bring them back, else a part of ourselves will die.

I firmly believe that most of life’s lessons can be learned from a cat. Take, for example, just a few minutes ago. I call for Mr. Kitty outside. Within a few minutes he appears at the back door. I let him in, and after a quick rub-against-my-leg greeting, he heads toward the food and water bowls, then stops to wait for me to accompany him. Mr. Kitty absolutely will not go to his food and water bowls of his own accord without an escort… Don’t ask.

That’s not the point, though. The point is that after I pour him fresh water (he usually refuses to drink “old” water), he sniffs at it and then waits to see what I will do. If I walk out of the bathroom immediately, he is distracted and will occasionally follow me out without having had a drink. If I stand and wait, he will get comfortable and start lapping away. If I wait for him to start and then walk away, he stops drinking as though my leaving has broken his ability to concentrate.

Although Mr. Kitty is a cat, and therefore must instinctually pay attention to anything and everything that makes the slightest movement or sound, there is something yet to be learned from this.

Here’s how the stream of consciousness goes: kitty doesn’t like to be left alone -> kitties are like babies -> babies don’t like to be alone -> maybe that’s why babies cry when they wake up from a nap…

Sure, babies get hungry and thirsty and need their diapers changed. But has anyone ever considered the effect of loneliness/abandonment a baby may experience when waking up alone in an empty room? Think about it. The child develops inside the mother, developing an intimate bond and sense of togetherness. After birth, the baby is comforted by presence – the presence of the mother primarily. A mother puts her baby in a crib of some sort to take a nap. The baby’s last moments of consciousness still involve the sense of presence. When naptime is over, the baby awakens to a cold, empty, abandoned feeling caused by the lack of presence. No sounds of mother nearby. No sense of touch. No warm breath. Baby is alone…

So that’s how my mind works. All that from giving my cat a bowl of water. See? Inevitably, there are always fresh new lessons to be learned from your cat.

Disclaimer: It is highly recommended that when searching for inspiration, one’s own cat be used, as using a foreign cat could result in severe side effects such as dry mouth, watery eyes, bad luck, and irritable bowel. For best results, please consult your veterinarian.