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Cock-A-Doodle-Do! A Productive Morning Has Broken!

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Early Bird or Night Owl.

To which camp do you belong?

Are you reading this at 6 a.m. or midnight?

My Mom was a night owl, her RedBull energy kicked into gear at around 11 p.m. That’s Snoresville for me.

Welcome to this Hemingway’istic short post (goal: fewer than 500 words) about productivity and time of day.

Honestly, I love to get sh*t done… my TO-DO list is really a “I-GET-TO-DO-LIST” (IGTDL)...

… it’s like my daily mantra and goody bag blended into a kid’s bouncy castle.

Since my earliest days in then-tiny Stoney Creek, Ontario (yes, I was born in Stoney Creek but grew up in Hamilton without ever changing addresses), my IGTDL list has always been front-loaded…

… that is, if it’s gonna happen, it’s gonna happen in the dawn’ish early hours of any day… writing, garden or construction projects, exercise, food prep, bowel movements, reading, bowel movements and reading combined… my eyes are at their energetically-widest aperture in bright a.m. sunshine. Holy Cock-a-doodle-do!

I have to remember that I’m fortunate to rise and enjoy a productive day with good health and financial stability, and a 2nd vaccine prick hopefully floating its microscopic immune magic in my veins.

Waiting for a brilliant burst of energy or some mind-blowing idea?

Hell no. Forget it… real life means real effort, something I should have learned before my first day of kindergarten instead of “why I shouldn’t trip little girls intentionally as a flirty and surefire pick-up approach“.

Productivity may be in the eye of the beholder, but my keenest observation over many years is that productive inspiration (like learning) is a verb and not a noun…. getting things done is best summed up by NIKE… JUST DO IT! Take a nibble and soon the whole muffin is gone…

At the beginning here, I waxed enthusiastically about my early-morning productivity rule… but now I’ll slam into reverse a wee bit because there’s an exception… yup, there’s ALWAYS an exception…

… like any language we learn, there are exceptions to rules, and productivity in my world is no exception to the exception rule *please stop saying exception Larry*…

Music, whether playing or writing is that exception.

Music as a creative force is a nighttime, darkness dweller. For unknown reasons, the Muses fear the daylight hours, and deeper emotions are best accessed in the quiet stillness of night.

OK, I mentioned real effort, and now I’ll leave you with one more wee golden nugget of Larry Wisdom… it’s a one-word mantra we should all adopt – FOCUS … multi-tasking effectively is a myth.

If you want something done, if you wish to accomplish something truly worthwhile, something important… drill in and do it… with singleminded focus… with focus comes flow…

OR … you could simply pass your numbered days sipping a glass of scotch on the ship of La Vida Suave.

That’s it…

WHEW! 493 Words (sure, I’ll wait while you count)… thanks Mr. Hemingway.

Now, what’s next on your IGTDL?

The Torture of Your Choices

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We’re a mystery to ourselves…

ūüé∂nu nu nu nuūüé∂… your next stop is…

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What cup of coffee or tea do you prefer?

Starbucks?… Tim Hortons?… Costa Coffee’s?… your own?…

Decaf? Oat milk? Hazelnut shot? Cold Brew? Green or black tea?

Frappuccino? Acai? Hibiscus? Mocha? Guava? Passion fruit?

OMG, caffeine-waterboarding… it’s torture! Choices and more choices… everyone’s different, yes?

And still more choices… when you read my posts.

I understand that you reading this is a privilege for me because you have the choice.

That you vote to take a few minutes away from 100 other things you could do or read or watch is humbling. It’s the nature of our 21st century multi-choice universe that the option to flip past me is the easiest thing ever.

What makes me so special to deserve your eyeballs? I’m not John Krasinski handsome or Malcolm Gladwell insightful.

After 9 years of writing these weekly missives, I know that readers come and readers go, and a brave (or foolish!!) small number of you have stayed with me from Day One… I thank you.

But honestly, as much as I appreciate you, I don’t write for you as my #1 motivation. I’ll tell you what is in a minute…

This is fortunate because I don’t earn a living – hell, even a pittance… sniff… not even a penny – from my weekly word count.

Of course I peruse the number of views I have on my posts each week and from which country you originate (that’s it… I don’t get your name or city, just your country)…

…the social part of me, like Sally Field (YOU love me!), loves the recognition that you read my words, or make a comment, or click a LIKE.

But I don’t obsess over or tailor my words to suit any individual or group.

Now I do sometimes read my posts as if I’m “possessed” by one of you (will I channel YOU this week?). I put myself in your shoes and try to interpret what I’m saying through YOUR filter (or what I perceive as your filter).

I like to present and challenge ideas without offending – there’s space for us all.

I accept that each of us sees the world in a slightly different way. However, I will choose reason and scientific fact over rumour or rhetoric where facts exist.

Emotion and opinion have their place too, but they should be secondary to fact. The internet has hugely challenged our ability to think rationally with roiling oceans of pseudo-truths (alternative facts).

Back to me navel-gazing…

Motivation #1 for this blog?

My thinking and personal understanding happens when I write… I access ME when I put words to paper, or screen, or song.

Really… I’m ultra-clumsy in interpersonal verbal interactions… I fumble and stumble and say inappropriate things that I would never do or say if I had a minute or an hour to think and reflect. Fortunately this “woke” dude has learned to NEVER ask a woman when she is “due”.

I also try NOT to be inspired by the misogynistic male judge (John Michael Higgins) from the movie Pitch Perfect commenting on the female singers: This does not look like the fresh-faced nubile Bellas that we have come to know. Is it me, or are those skirts just not working anymore?

I know many others who can think faster than a blink of the eye, who explore their inner thoughts and opinions while speaking… their brain functions best through the spoken word. I am in awe of the fast thinkers of the world.

I’m a slow thinker. Whatever “intelligence” I possess happens while I write… I find my insights and perceptions while writing my blog posts, and in my personal e-mails, and in my songwriting.

I’m constantly shovelling/writing to delve further inside myself looking for understanding – of myself and of the world around me. In that moment I’m Stephen King with magic powers.

This intelligence typically takes me 500 or 1,000 words to surface… anything less and my head is spinning like I just got off a fast Merry-Go-Round ie. no substance or understanding…

A miniskirt-short blog post is like a Twitter post…

Jerry Seinfeld says: ‚ÄúTwitter is good. Why say a lot to a few people when you can say virtually nothing to everyone?‚ÄĚ

… but more than 1,000 words in my post and it’s just VD (verbal diarrhea). Maybe that’s one thing I learned from Hemingway’s brevity.

Back to Seinfeld… he’s my philosopher of the week… for some obvious reasons I can’t use Bill Gates for awhile now.

Seinfeld observes that people who are comedians work at understanding themselves, while actors observe people in order to play different characters.

I would add to this that poets and songwriters also look inside for understanding of themselves and the cosmos. Do you see yourself in any of these roles?

So, this week’s “Larry Wisdom”?

If, at some time, you feel introspective, “choose” a cup of your favourite espresso or oolong and think about your best route to “finding” the you that lies deep beneath the surface. It might be your best Twilight Zone experience ever.

One last Seinfeldian observation of this crazy world to ponder:

If aliens are watching us through telescopes, they‚Äôre going to think the dogs are the leaders of the planet. If you see two life forms, one of them‚Äôs making a poop, the other one‚Äôs carrying it for him, who would you assume is in charge?‚ÄĚ

A New Forking Year…

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What to do… What to do…

OK, I didn’t anticipate the year we’re just finishing.

You did?

Well, I bow in homage to you Nostradamus… maybe I didn’t read my Chinese horoscope closely enough as we leave the Rat behind us and enter the Ox’s domain!

I placed no DoorDash or SkipTheDishes order of COVID virus for 2020.

Traditionally, starting out a new year, I’d think and ponder about Christmas bills, my running and swimming goals, and if stock markets would rise or fall through the year and how my and my kids’ investments would fare… silly me…

… because… then came the virus. 1918 redux.

All of our lives changed immediately… overnight.

Millions were and are affected. Tragedies and near tragedies abounded in every nook and cranny of the globe.

It just happened and we’ve all had to whip ourselves into a different pretzel contortion of ourselves each week to adjust to the “new” world.

Another set of protocols for daily life were pronounced regularly, sometimes every few days.

Every country, every province/state/county, every town and city had its own set of rules du jour. We’d slog to the top of Mount Sinai and pick up our updated slate of Ten Commandments… depending on the current bend of the “curve”.

Looking back to pre-COVID time, my normal ADHD-based world was filled with lots of activities and social interactions in a swath of different directions. I typically thrive on a cornucopia of varied pursuits.

Not in 2020, nope nope nope.

But away to the window they flew like a flash… yes, Santa’s research elves went right to work in their North Pole labs …

… and through the miracle of today’s research, technologies and communications, science’d the shit out of this virus, and here we are in less than one year with a solution in a syringe, set to reverse the tide of this microscopic demon.

Despite our worldly problems and challenges, we are so very fortunate to live in 2020 and not 1918.

Fortunate that in only six months or a year from now, we’ll open our doors, rip off our masks, and step out into the sunshine of the world-as-we-once-knew-it… and clocks will start to tick once more.

Which begs a big question of us all.

Should we return to the old “me” or… is it a chance to create a new “me”? It can be our version of New Year’s resolutions.

Let the inner debate begin. What have we learned about ourselves during this period?

Isn’t the inner dialogue best faced now while in the throes of isolation, before the push and pull, the swell of the tides drags us back into the sea of “normality”?

I can’t answer the questions for you.

For myself, I know I have a tendency to over-schedule my life. It’s a blessing and a curse of having many interests and desires. I want to do everything that grabs my inner passion.

But I also know that as a semi-introvert (I guess the true term is omni-vert), I’m also beginning to feel a minor pulse of uneasiness rising.

As much as I enjoy the outside world, I also enjoy solitude, and the need to reflect and just let my mind wander aimlessly into corners and alleys where I discover inner worlds that no airliner can carry me.

Isolation has given me time and permission to focus so much more intensely on one of my great interests, music. Practising, writing, playing, creating, experimenting.

Almost 2,500 years ago, Socrates gave us his guidance: “The unexamined life is not worth living.” Occasionally old white guys have wise messages (but ONLY occasionally!)

So, entering 2021, I’ll challenge you to examine your trajectory as will I.

Will the road you journey be the same as before… or will the Ox lead you to a courageous turn down the fork of a road unknown, novel, and undiscovered?

Whichever path you trek, make it YOUR path.

And in a nod to a year’s end and your new beginning… a song for Old Times Sake, a reminder of longstanding friendships: remember to take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.

Here’s a little guitar instrumental based on Robert Burns poem that I put together this week.

Boo… 8 Things That Scare Me…

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Do one thing that scares you every day”

… Eleanor Roosevelt

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T Rex fear

I threw up my hotdog one early summer evening in a family restaurant, its walls adorned with Hamilton Tiger Cat football and Toronto Maple Leafs hockey photos… it was mustardy messy and the cloud of smell was … well… you fill in the rest.

The waiter was nice about it, then probably gagged a bit when he went back to the kitchen.

It was a fancy restaurant and I was just a little kid, but the impression it left still lays inside me today, dormant like a herpes virus waiting to rise to the cold-sore surface.

For years, I was nervous that I might throw up in a restaurant again. Fear. Scared. A beautifully coutured phobia in-waiting.

Ultimately silly.

‚ÄúFear is your friend,‚ÄĚ said Tim Ferriss in a TED talk.¬†‚ÄúFear is an indicator. Sometimes it shows you what you shouldn‚Äôt do. More often than not it shows you exactly what you should do. And the best results that I‚Äôve had in life, the most enjoyable times, have all been from asking a simple question: What‚Äôs the worst that can happen?‚ÄĚ

We all know that most of our fears are nonsense and should be stuffed¬†in a coffin and buried six feet under, but there are some I hold onto¬†because they make me more human. They are a part of me¬†that makes me ME. (now there’s a sentence that a narcissist could embrace!).

Being a complete person means never having to say you deny your frailties and rough edges.

I’m full of rough edges.

rough edges leaf.jpg

So, what are some of my biggest “rough-edged” fears now that I’m approaching my 7th decade on this beautiful blue planet?

  1. Driving at night and worrying I might hit and hurt or kill an animal.¬†This is a biggie in my mind and yet it’s one of those fears I embrace and never wish to wash away. Tsunami waves of nausea roll through me when I’ve actually hit, or even think about killing an animal while driving, or for that matter, any other time.

2. A dog jumping out of the ether,¬†barking and snarling at me while I’m running or cycling… my heart rate is already well up there, I don’t need any more stimulation thank you. I hate¬†to see animals in pain or discomfort, and I hate¬†to see me in pain or discomfort because of an animal sneak attack… back off¬†Rover!

3. Walking into a social situation alone… my introversion tendencies rise to the surface. I’m¬†pretty good at projecting a positive public face, but the childlike inner feelings of inadequacy bubble through me¬†as I walk alone through a door to a party or gathering. If I looked in the mirror, I’m sure I’d see I’m wearing little boy¬†shorts and my Parkdale Steelers hockey sweater.

4. Bungee Jumping. I can handle the thought of skydiving (today but¬†not when I was younger). I’ve scuba dived. I’ve explored in narrow, dark underground caves. I’ve slogged my way through a Tough Mudder. But bungee? NO¬†F***ing Way… that’s a stroke¬†waiting to happen and I’m not going there… EVER!!

5. TV or Movie Killings.¬†The realization that watching a TV show or movie¬†of someone being killed – murdered – and knowing it doesn‚Äôt bother me (at least not the way I think it should) is bothersome. It makes me fear something within myself that accepts the violence… perversely even enjoys it, and does it over and over again. It also makes me wonder why consensual, loving sex isn’t more accepted on our screens. Which is the more positive choice?

6. One of my kids getting really sick or dying. This one really doesn’t need elaboration. There’s a hardwiring – a Constitutional amendment – in a parent’s head that insists that our issue should never ever pass on before we do. We had a close call once when our son was 9 years old. My heart bleeds for those many who have experienced the death of a child. It’s the devil’s kiss of lightning.

7. Getting near to vomiting or diarrhea on a plane… maybe this goes back to the hot dog incident as a child, beats me. A¬†prison-like situation where you’re incarcerated in a sardine can in the sky? Often no access to a bathroom? … seat belt fastened and nowhere to go? Nowhere to go! UNCOMFORTABLE!

8. Boney M music. Yeah, I fear that electronic disco sound. I feel revulsion and frightening thoughts welling up inside me at the first kitschy Jamaican beats of their music. Why not play Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road and get this melodious mess out of our systems.

Boney M.jpg

And finally One bonus fear (every good blog list has a bonus!):

Dying suddenly without a chance to say goodbye. I’ve lived and felt the pain of not saying a final goodbye. It lies inside you, gnawing.

I’ve heard those many who say they’d like to be struck dead suddenly with a heart attack or stroke like a runaway truck on a London Bridge,¬†swept away in a second.

Not me.

We can never express with the depth of our inner core, never capture the universe of emotion and love and respect and tenderness, the true¬†multiplicity of feelings¬†for our loved ones… not fully… until we’re in those final immersive moments.

Death mourned.jpg

OK, now some old fears that fell away like my thick head of hair?¬†I’ve had a few.

Here is a sampling of ones I’ve inhaled, held inside, and then eventually exhaled into misty clouds with age and maturity, like:

… getting to the end of my life and realizing that I wasted most of it…

… singing or speaking in public…

… in early blog posts: sharp criticism of my opinions…

… in my young years… premature ejaculation…

… wondering what people thought of me…

… not losing my virginity: ever…

Overcoming rational fear is about being a better person…

Fear doesn’t ever really go away, nor should it. But confronting it is the way to move forward.

Nowadays I try to face fear like a gladiator. Grrr. And usually¬†I’m strong and brave but occasionally… rarely… my inner child arises and I’d like¬†to suck my thumb in the corner – please don’t ever point a gun at my head, OK?

When I¬†see myself overcoming part of a fear each day it lifts me¬†up ‚ÄĒ I feel the¬†thrive. ¬†

It feeds my endorphin fix needs better than a needle in my arm.

Dealing with fear is always a choice.

One final thought. The Art of Manliness, one of my favorite websites on the Internet¬†declares¬†this “fear” rule:

‚ÄúWhenever you are presented with a choice, ask yourself which option you would prefer to have taken in ten years.‚ÄĚ

yoga at sunset

On The Lightness of Being An Evangelist of Positive Passion …

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Two wolves

BEWARE!

Look both ways before crossing my path because¬†I’m not always sure that I’m heading in the right direction.

I’m sorry. Don’t worry.

This is all just a metaphor for my choices in life.

We ALL have a direction. We ALL have choices.

We ALL make choices, even if we choose¬†to do nothing … that’s a choice too!

positive passion

This is where my concept of Positive Passion vs Negative Passion comes into play ….

Many dive into politics and weighty issues. This is a good thing in most cases.

With lofty intentions they dive into the stinky diapers of the world and try to make changes, or try to change the opinions of others, or fight injustice and inequality.

The most common form of this arises in protest of government edicts or legislation.

Unions and armies have fought their negative passions for eons. Protesters have died in Tiananmen and Tahrir.

They are filled with passion, but it’s a negative passion. It’s a contra passion… an “against something” passion.

I feel inferior when I encounter people like this and yet I don’t change.

I’ve made my choice.¬†Why? What choice?

I’m not a negative passion kind of person.

I decided some time back that I want to fill my life with positivity. I want to do and live positive things with positive people in a positive way.

Happy dog

I want to fill my life with Positive Passion, not Negative Passion.

Check out this¬†Letter to the Editor in my local Penticton newspaper last week. It suggested we find something we don’t like in the world and then fight against it as our life’s passion. Negative Passion.

I hear, ‚Äúwhat can I do‚ÄĚ or ‚Äúnothing is going to change.‚Ä̬†

There are many people and organizations tackling challenges we face; environmental, social and economic challenges that have the power to cripple if we let them. In the face of these challenges, these people are making changes that few of us hear about, or if we do hear, our hopelessness doesn’t allow us to register. 

I say, ‚ÄúGet mad, get motivated and get moving.‚ÄĚ Action is the only thing that ever has, or ever will, change anything.

First, what bothers you?

Finding your discontent is the key to discovering your passion, and when a person is passionate, there is nothing that can’t be accomplished.

Second, ‚Äúget motivated.‚ÄĚ

Who else shares your pet peeve? I can guarantee there is a person, people or an organization already tackling the challenge you see.

Third, ‚Äúget moving.‚ÄĚ Contact one of those people or organizations. Start your own movement, volunteer, donate, whatever you can do with ¬†whatever you have is good enough. Never let anyone tell you your efforts will never be enough. ¬†

It’s noble and elegant, isn’t it? Superheroes fighting crime and injustice.

But I don’t want to fill my mind with negativity. I don’t want to be mad. Why do I want to be bitter and angry? ¬†“Finding your discontent is the key to discovering your passion” just doesn’t work for me.

I try to float a bit lighter, filled with positive thoughts, positive energy; perhaps I can lessen just a teensy bit some of the problems that exist by the approach that I take.

Will I solve all the issues, the myriad of problems that beset us? Nope, not by a long stretch.

Don’t call me¬†Polly’annish.

But I know that when I smile and see a grin mirrored back by others, problems somehow seem less significant, less bothersome. Smile dynamics break through where confrontation fails.

Here’s another approach that I’d describe as Positive Passion…¬†this is from my local Penticton Herald newspaper Letters to the Editor, same as the example above. Positive Passion.

 

As the Okanagan summer draws to a close, we gratefully acknowledge the tremendous support given to the Soupateria.

Donations of fresh fruit and vegetables from local orchards, farmers and home gardeners have been delivered. Merchants have donated bread, baked goods and various food items. Service clubs, churches, businesses and individuals given assistance in various ways. These  contributions have enabled us to continue providing a hot, nourishing lunch each day.

To the end of August, 30,506 ‚Äúsigned in‚ÄĚ lunches were served, an increase of 945 over the same time period in 2014. Due to the influx of seasonal transient workers, numbers grew exponentially.

These numbers will drop dramatically at the end of harvest time. However, as a result of the downturn of the economy, the local clientele continues to grow. Many new faces appear in the lunchtime lines. 

Our dedicated volunteers have been champions, giving of their time and talents throughout this long, hot summer. The smiles of appreciation from clients, their compliments to the soup makers, and their cooperation during a busy season have made the effort well worthwhile.

On behalf of everyone here at the Soupateria, to the community of Penticton,  we say, thank you.

What a beautiful, thankful way to deal with a problem that exists. Feeding the positive wolf.

I respect, sometimes even admire, those who choose to fight with negative passion.

BUT.

I’ve made my choice.

I’m choosing to feed my positive wolf.

ACCENTCHUATE_THE_POSITIVE!_

You’ve Just Crossed Over Into … The Grey Zone …

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Fish in lightbulb

Why is no one paying ME billions of dollars for my ideas?

I wonder if¬†it’s because I’m caught in the twilight of The Grey Zone.

I’m a prisoner in this quagmire and I need to make myself break free.

Well before 50 Shades of Grey came along, I invented the whole genre of the “grey zone”.

I can’t¬†see anything as black or white.

50 Shades of Grey?

Hell, I can see the universe in 1,000 shades of grey.

50-shades-grey-paint

The other day while I was pouring drinks at my bartending job, someone said to me,

“Who are you voting¬†for in the upcoming federal election?

Depends…

… the choices?

Conservative, Liberal, New Democratic Party (NDP) or Green.

Hmmmm… depends on where my sense of priority lies on voting day, I suppose… I think, I’m pretty sure!

  • Conservative if I feel angry at the world and want to fight wars and abortion laws and gun control and market controls.
  • Liberal if I like Justin Trudeau’s hair style that day and I want a bouncy¬†mix of free markets and social justice.
  • NDP if I feel in sync with¬†the friendly¬†folks patiently waiting for me to open the doors to the Penticton Soupateria kitchen who¬†need¬†free daycare and subsidized dental care for their cavity-laden mouths.
  • Green if I’m sick of picking another empty Tim Hortons cup off the street under the ozone-thin rays of sunshine, AND perhaps I feel a subtle loyalty to them because my last name happens to be Green.
  • Is Obama a choice? Doesn’t Barack need a job after November 2016?

OK … you might have insinuated by¬†my choice of words above that it won’t be a CONSERVATIVE check mark!

But other than that, I just don’t know!

And I don’t want to spend a lot of time working my way through the issues. I’m one politically lazy cat.

lazy-cat5

And¬†this political muskeg? This is just one small example of my grey zone or “sitting on the fence” outlook on life.

My “grey zone” often¬†has me¬†seized up by the glut of alternatives¬†in our world… you know… the Walmart selection of choices in everything we do or purchase.

In the halcyon days of The Waltons (nope, not Sam Walton of Walmart, I’m talking¬†John Boy Walton of Walton’s Mountain, Virginia), you would just walk into¬†Godsey’s General Store and say,

“Ike, I need an iron, two spools of blue thread, a package of laundry soap, and a suit for Yancey Tucker’s wedding this weekend.”

Two minutes later, with no further questions, Ike would smile his boyishly toothy grin and have everything tied up in a neat bundle and off you went, a happy camper.

No VISA, no MasterCard,¬†no Air Miles or Loyalty Club cards… just cold, hard-earned cash slapped down on the old oak counter.

Can you imagine?

Now… NOW! … you need 2 days, 2¬†weeks, 2 months…¬†whatever …¬†to make all of the important decisions involved in these same purchases. Questions and more questions:

  • Self cleaning iron or auto shut-off? GE or Samsung or Toshiba? Corded or cordless? Removable steam tank? Retractable cord? Anti-burn control?
  • Sky Blue, royal blue, indigo thread? Cotton, nylon, polyester, heavy-duty, silk, wool, or metallic thread?
  • Powdered or liquid laundry soap? Detergent with bleach added? Dye and perfume free? Cold water active? Top or front-loading washer?
  • And, it would take an entire blog post to go through the choices when selecting a man’s suit for a wedding.

Choices

I just don’t know! And I don’t want to spend a lot of time working my way through the consumer consumables. I’m consumerly¬†lazy.

I like the idea of options, but the harsh reality of endless choice is endless decision-making and the need to do extensive research on the purchase of my next Bic pen or Gillette razor blade.

I sometimes rue having to use what little brain power I do have, to investigate and research and think and weigh options.

Really, I want to use my “grey’ matter to think about the things that are important¬†to me. Things I’ve prioritized, or have wanted to prioritize.

Really, I want my head filled with story ideas for blog posts that infinitely stretch my thoughts and imagination.

Really, let me work on the concept of Idea Sex where I can take two or more unrelated ideas and tap my J.K. Rowling magic wand to marry them into something new and beautiful.

Really, the same for my music writing and playing. I don’t want to create everyday songs that anyone lacking imagination can pen for a commercial audience. I want unique songs with meaning and substance, stories filled with relevance, and emotion… and heart…

Experts such as psychologist/author Roy Baumeister (Willpower: Rediscovering the Greatest Human Strength) tell us that we have a finite amount of willpower.

The willpower needed in making decisions becomes depleted as we use it, and we use the same stock of willpower for all manner of tasks.

If I spend 10 minutes making a decision over something as seemingly simple as which toilet paper to buy (3 ply or 2 ply, 12 rolls or 8, super soft or Russian sandpaper, and on and on), those 10 minutes have depleted my eagerness for making sweet music.

Regrettably, almost unlimited choices in today’s world saps my energy.

In order to change, it’s a circular conundrum of¬†making¬†decisions about decision-making. Yup, my very own personal 1,000 Shades of Grey.

Meanwhile, I feel like I’ve crossed over into… Nu-nu nu-nu …. THE GREY ZONE.

rod serling