If you have to ask yourself this question, you might already be screwed. OR, you might be just like me. I don’t automatically know what I “love”. I don’t know what my passions are. There are things I love, but I don’t want to talk about them all the time. There are things I am passionate about, but I don’t think anyone else will appreciate my take on them.
Month: October 2009
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My Blogs Have All But Failed
This is one of the saddest and simultaneously most exciting times of my life. I’ve been pumped all week after watching some video clips on Gary Vaynerchuk’s website. For a secular web-based entrepreneur, he’s my hero. He’s passionate, articulate, unique, and he works REALLY hard. Gary has convinced me that my blogs are a failure.
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Gary Vaynerchuck Just Might Change Your Life
After watching this CNN interview with Gary V, I’m inspired all over again to go out and make it happen. Are you still contemplating what to do with your life? Watch this video and let the endless possibilities wash over you like a nice, warm wave of caffeine infused adrenaline.
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Is a Blog Worth Blogging?
Many times I have debated myself on this question. You see, I am a writer at heart. But I have too many channels and too many projects. I am spread thin. Some might argue that I’ve cheapened my words by how “frivolously” I share them. After all, a guy who runs seven blogs must not be sharing only gems, right?
I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: writing in my journal restores me. It brings rest and comfort and reflection. It is inward facing. It has no ulterior motives. It wins me no recognition or respect.
Blogging, on the other hand, is extremely public. It puts my thoughts directly into the hands of the masses (or at least the masses who are interested). It’s not like writing a book, wherein I would carefully select the best pages and rewrite every sentence until the finished work was a work of art. No, and this is why so many self-proclaimed artists mock blogging as a powerful method of expression. They are old school, and old school says immediacy equals cheap. The real stars are hard to reach. They make themselves scarce so that when they do surface, their very appearance is newsworthy.
Blogs make us all so immediate and familiar. So much of the mystery is gone. You know what I’m doing on my vacation before I get home. You’ve seen the pictures and seen the updates on Twitter or Facebook. I have less influence upon you because of how easy it is to access me. By blogging and tweeting, I am not rare. I am common.
It’s easy to assume that someone who refuses to blog is more interesting, but they are merely more mysterious. And they are actually only mysterious if someone cares what they are thinking and feeling. An outsider must first be interested, then the subject must withhold easy access (i.e. immediacy). Only then is a person “mysterious”. Without outsider interest, the withdrawn person is simply forgotten and unimportant.
Blogs can have a similar but opposite function. By regularly posting, there is no surprise. So even if you, the outsider, is interested, the very quantity and immediacy of my thoughts makes me somewhat less powerful and important.
At least, that’s my initial take. Feel free to disagree.
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Day 50: Daniel Versus the Rocky Beach
It cost somewhere around $10 for three adults and a toddler to enter. The beach was as attractive (if not more so) as any we’d seen. But we’d been warned: it’s a bit rocky from the soft sand to the swimable water.
I made the mistake of assuming I could handle it barefooted. I took my baby girl down to the water to swim only to experience the pain of rocks underfoot.
I was already halfway out into the water, so I gritted my teeth and pushed my way through to the surf. Katie had a blast out there. She loves it when her daddy kicks her feet for her as she floats on her arm floaties.
The pain was infinitely worse on the way OUT of the water. I remember specifically wondering if this level of pain would equal at least intro-level torture elsewhere. I’m not a small boy. That was my 280 pounds PLUS my daughters 30 or so pounds pressing my soft as silk baby feet into the rocks.
I hung with Katie at a picnic table in the shade while Heather and Gigi snorkeled out by the rocks. I learned my lesson. The next time out, I wore my FiveFingers Sprints and the difference was noticeable. I still felt all the rocks and could have bruised the bottom of my foot, but the Sprints sole kept the sharp edges from feeling like they were piercing my skin.
It was a great swim overall. The deciding factor on this trip has been the presence or lack of seaweed. Some of the beaches we hit were chock full of sea vegetation and there’s something just a little ominous and creepy about swimming over a solid black surface. My mind starts asking “What could be lurking down there?” and I can’t relax as deeply as when I can see the sand beneath me.
Anyway, the moral of the story is this: wear your VFFs to the beach and in the water. They’re worth their weight in gold.