Before proceeding with this particular entry, let me first issue a disclaimer by saying that this is not a “book review” in the traditional sense. There will be no dissection of its content, nor will there be a final verdict of its inherent value. With that said, Still the Mind is beautifully written and in my opinion, nothing short of an instruction book on how to live a fulfilling life — but not simply from the standpoint of “self-help.” This is because it spends the bulk of its time answering the “why’s” lacking in many of the “how-to’s” in the current marketplace.

I could spend time extolling the virtues of the late Mr. Watts’ worldview (his culled from years of experience speaking, writing, and teaching), but to do that would be somewhat counter-intuitive to his philosophies. This is because the author would never want his outlook to be seen by anyone else as objectively “better” than another competing viewpoint. Rather, what I understand to be his underlying theme throughout all of his materials is the notion that we are already doing exactly what we should be doing. There is no better or worse – there simply is. The value judgement is placed onto us by ourselves, and it is there one must turn off the spigot of negative (or positive – really, no one appreciates arrogance) self-evaluation and let the flow of who and what we are to simply “be.”

Although I will not go into detail on how this book has affected my life, I will say that I have read it many times, and some of the thoughts and observations I have made over the course of the past few years on this web log have a direct influence from the teachings of Watts. If any of you are feeling at all lost in life, then I implore you to read this book. For me, when one comes across anything that not only resonates internally, but reaffirms something already thought, it feels like a small victory. I can only hope for others that they too can have a chance to feel these victories as well.

As I was practicing earlier this evening, it suddenly occurred to me that I might not be alone in my wants to amalgamate my personal and professional goals. After spending a few moments plugging the appropriate algorithms into a search engine, I was shocked at the sheer number of people, both men and women, who share similar sentiments. Take for instance, the example above.  Denny Blaze (although supremely musically non-gifted) captures a concurrent feeling of both disenchantment and hope in his introductory video. Created almost twenty years ago, he decided that his average life wasn’t average at all – that the trumpeting call of mediocrity would resonate with an audience that could afford him the antithesis of his postulations.

I don’t see an inherent “message” within my work, personal or professional. Although it does have a particular point of view (my own), I am in no way trying to convince others through my work that the path I have currently chosen is anything else than simply what it is. However, the idea that my life and inherent philosophies need to be interesting enough to entertain others – is this something I seriously need to consider if I do not in fact, meet this prerequisite?  And if not, is it possible to truthfully transform (or at the very least, color) my ordinary existence into something extraordinary? Simply put – would this be giving it all that I have, or giving it more than I have?

Atoms & Eves

As I found myself reminiscing via web log, I stumbled upon the second post I ever wrote. For those of you pressed for time and unable to click on the aforementioned link, the subject matter of said entry was a quick rumination on the United Nations’ 2008 designation as the International Year of the Potato. Because I was under a tremendous amount of work-related pressure during the moments in which I composed that particular potato post, I did not pursue any further knowledge of the UN’s yearly endorsement agenda. And although a pity that I wasn’t able to broaden my horizons at that precise moment, the fact that I am now rectifying a serious err has put me into somewhat of a tranquil state – especially upon the discovery that the UN has decided to mark 2011 with  the scientific field of chemistry.

I could not have thought of a better discipline/concern/idea to endorse at the present time, as I too find myself contemplating chemistry; however, the chemistry I speak of is the blending of my personal and professional life into one, the idea that I can somehow conjoin my love for work and my love for music into one amalgamated position. I know this is a simplistic view of the “science” itself, but my appropriation could not be more meaningful at this point in my life.

On the professional front, my immediate superior was indeed transferred two weeks ago, with a new immediate superior replacing him within minutes. Although she’s currently in the process of settling in, the authoritative way in which she views her recently- acquired position has been met with some disdain by a few of my fellow co-workers. Honestly, I don’t judge opinions, viewpoints, habits, or philosophies – I merely watch to see if objectives are being met, and the level of excellence in how they are being completed. What’s more? With my former immediate superior transferred, my new superior has no knowledge of this web log or my extracurricular activities. From her curt but obviously positive commentary, she has been “impressed” with my work. This is quite liberating indeed, as at this moment in time, there is no baggage between her and I. We are simply two employees of a vast network, giving it all we have in the name of corporate dominance.

Maybe Take a Dip?

The colloquialism most often heard in January from our fair society (whether it be the consumer or the corporation) is to “start the year off right.” Furthermore, the translation of this message usually revolves around the resolution to become less gravity-challenged with respect to one’s body mass. With this firmly planted in the forefront of my frontal lobe, I just discovered that we are currently knee-deep in National Dipped Fruit Week! Although the “dipped” portion of the fruit is some type of chocolate (milk, dark, white, or some variation of the aforementioned), the fact that one could be snacking on something natural as opposed to “junk” food is a small step in the “right” direction.  However, my initial excitement quickly over-ripened as delving into this “official” week of celebration led me to the belief that something far more sinister was at play.

While the notion of celebrating dipped fruit seems harmless enough, one need not look far to find that this commemoration is actually a thinly-veiled marketing campaign developed by Edible Arrangements, a company whose primary product is, you surmised it, dipped fruit. Normally I wouldn’t be offended by such a campaign – in fact, I would actually be quite congratulatory in tone. However, the idea of creating an “official” event without full disclosure is nothing short of, in my opinion, false advertising. I have been known to purchase an Edible Arrangement for my mother on her birthday and/or Mother’s Day, and although not quite as aesthetically pleasing as conventional flowers, I have always believed that receiving foodstuff presented like a floral arrangement is the gift that gives twice as much. But, with this shameless marketing strategy in full view of my purview, I will in all likelihood return to the traditional plant-based product and abandon the fruit-as-flower variation.

Although it’s said that a company can recapture lost clientele by working doubly hard, I don’t see how Edible Arrangements finds its way back into my heart, or my wallet. What’s even more surprising is how my perception of such actions now elicits a personal backlash. In my youth, I was a staunch supporter of all things designed to increase revenue, but for what it’s worth, what I now respond to above all else is the simple notion of honesty – be it a product, situation, or otherwise.

After much bluster and hulabaloo, the New York Jets traveled to Foxboro Massachusetts and defeated the New England Patriots in the American Football Conference Divisional Playoffs. Although I will refrain from going into details about the contest itself, what is important to understand is the Patriots were heavily favored to win, and the Jets defied the critics with an old-fashioned bottom-whipping. And by old-fashioned, I mean they won the game refraining from trickery, controversial on-field rulings by the officials, or any other kind of asterisk that could be placed next to the final score by New England’s faithful fan base.

Many detractors and cynics point out the fact that professional athletes make sizeable incomes, and because of this, the idea of the game itself is irrelevant next to the size of the check deposited into their bank accounts on a weekly basis. The video above proves however, that intangibles such as pride still matter and conversely, money is not the sole motivator. The very fact that Mr. Scott cannot wait until the next game, even when pushed to the very limit of his respective craft, speaks magnitudes of his inner character. And for that, and his obvious giving of all that he had, as a fan I am forever indebted to his remarkable fortitude and burning desire to win.

Next stop? Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

UPDATE 1/23/11: There will be no Super Bowl for the Jets this year. I “can’t wait” for next season.

Numbers can be Deceiving

In the body of my birthday post composed exactly six months ago, I shared an intimate detail of how I organize my life from a goal-oriented perspective. For those too bogged down with responsibility or simply unwilling to click on the above link, I will preemptively refresh the former conversation. Instead of using January first to determine my plans for the upcoming year, I use my birthday as the date in which I perform the aforementioned. And, because my birthday perfectly bisects the calendar year, today simply functions as a six-month benchmark (and in today’s world of “i,” doesn’t this ultimately make more sense regardless of when one’s birthday happens to be?).  After spending some time contemplating my current rate of completion with respect to the goals set in July, I have a multitude of reasons to defend my current position. Although the following are in no particular order, the fact that they appear in this specific configuration is undoubtedly related to how my subconscious sees them in rank and importance.

1) Musically, I would like to write a song that I can be proud of. By this time next year, I would like to have performed it in public at least once.

It is with utmost disappointment to report that I am still lacking the ability to write a complete song. I know that I have a firm handle on hearing melody, and furthermore,  I have partial pieces of songs, words, and skill to put it all together, but in short, something is missing. Looking back at this point last year, I most definitely have made progress, but the simple fact is, creativity cannot be rushed. I am completely resigned to the fact that when the time is right, a song of repute will surface. And obviously, the second half of the goal, the idea of performing said song, is moot at this point in time.

2) Professionally, I would like to continue working at Corporation, Incorporated in my current position.

So far, so good. As reported in my year-end encapsulation, I have achieved or surpassed expectations in every category, which has me quite entrenched within the system. However there are rumblings of my immediate superior being transferred – how this will affect my work life I do not know, but as long as my potentially new immediate superior appreciates the things I stand for, there should not be any problems.

3) Socially, I would like to expand my horizons. 

Unfortunately, I still don’t feel the urge to make inroads with respect to my “personal” life. Not only have I not met any members of the opposite sex that I find stimulating, the idea of a “guys” night, i.e. drinking alcohol and talking about trivial matters, seems absolutely horrifying.

As the musical artisan Meatloaf once sang, “Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad.” And what’s more, I have six more months before my next self-imposed review to rectify the social aspect of my goal-related slate. Honestly, although I would like to become more personable, it’s the music, specifically the idea of writing a song, that I need to complete. The first of anything is always daunting, but once finished, I know I’ll have the gumption to write the next one. As the sun begins to rise on 2011 CE, the idea of labeling myself “musician” has never seemed more possible than right now. And, with my second goal already well within my grasp, the confidence created by combining the first two will no doubt empower me to realize the third.

Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Approximately three weeks ago (nineteen days to be exact), I accessed the public server at my place of employment and dragged a document to my desktop that I had never once clicked on in my career. After staring at it for almost twenty-four hours, I went ahead and prepared said document for submission. If you inferred from the previous sentences that I decided to claim  a week of unused vacation time between the days of (and also including) December twenty-seventh through the thirty-first, then you would most undoubtedly be correct.  Although having already written about how to properly use company-sanctioned vacation time, this was more of an energy-replenishing exercise designed to allow me the pleasure of living a week absolved of all professional responsibilities. With this in hand, I was afforded the most unusual opportunity to treat myself  to a rare weekday appearance at my local cinematheque. After reviewing the theater’s offerings, I settled on David Owen Russell’s The Fighter.

Before examining the film, I would like to take a moment and focus on the man portraying the protagonist of the picture, the ultra-successful yet questionably talented Mark Robert Michael Wahlberg. Not to be confused with Mark L. Walberg, host of the finely understated Antiques Roadshow, “Marky Mark” (as he was known during his early years as a rap music artist) has been able to leverage one success after another, resulting in numerous Hollywood leading roles. In addition to his acting, he is the proprietor of a production company, which among other things, has seen the development, creation and execution of the smash show Entourage. The reason for qualifying his career is to put his power in no uncertain terms, which I feel is important to implicitly understand why a film this mediocre is already being considered, in some circles, as an instant Oscar® contender.

Portraying the real-life character “Irish” Mickey Ward, Mr. Wahlberg delivers a middling performance as a boxer “against the ropes” who subsequently rises to defeat an “unbeatable” opponent, resulting in a very “happy” ending for all.  A tale of supreme predictability, I was immediately listless the very minute the movie began. Although Christian Bale and Melissa Leo were mildly engaging in their supporting roles, the high level of talent level they both innately possess does not lead me to expect anything less.

Of all the athletically-driven films featuring a protagonist like the one encountered here, Rocky will always, in my opinion, stand head and shoulders above the rest. This is because in short, Rocky Balboa loses the battle yet wins the war, as the goal (actually spoken aloud somewhere deep in the second act) is to simply “go the distance” with the antagonist. And in life, shouldn’t that be what we all strive for? To get as far as we can, giving it all we have, without a care as to the result? However, whether it’s capitalism seeping into our collective societal psyche, or the simple competitive nature of evolution coupled with Darwin’s theory of natural selection, the studio executives and their finance brethren (or perhaps the inverse of this relationship) seem to think that complexity with regard to passion and perseverance is too murky - that the public only wants to see unequvical triumph through the eyes of a clear-cut “winner.”

Judging by the praise being heaped onto this film, the only thing I could possibly see in its inherent value is its delivery of conventional escapism for the approximately one hundred and fourteen minutes of runtime. Let us hope that the Academy does not move forward and recognize this film for “greatness,” although having never made a film, I should take a moment and tip my hat to those who create in a field that at this point in my life, I have no business judging. And furthermore, I can painfully acknowledge what I want to evaluate under the sole pretense of expression is delivered by a media conglomerate with a slue of expectations, namely the recouping of a sizable investment bestowed upon all involved in the project.

However, with that being said, I still cannot in good faith recommend this film.

UPDATE 1/25/11: The Fighter garnered seven Oscar® Nominations, including best picture. I am somewhat at a loss.

UPDATE 2/27/11: The Fighter won two Oscars®, sweeping the supporting actor category for both men and women.

The end of 2010 CE is fast approaching, and although I don’t put much stock in personal evaluations during this time of the year, it’s hard to oppose the overarching social grain of our fair society. The simple yet powerful notion of resetting the twelve-month cycle causes most to recognize their mortality, as the inevitable march towards the “final act” is hard to reconcile no matter the outlook. With that said, I spent a moment on my commute home contemplating the past three-hundred sixty five days, and while this is by no means a definitive conclusion, it would seem what I’ve uncovered is simple enough to be considered as such.

Work has been predictably methodical. Although dealing with a fair share of difficulties along the way, I did what was asked of me, and when appropriate, expanded and expounded upon my immediate superior’s requests. Professionally speaking, this has placed me in quite a favorable position, which is obviously a good place to be. And from a personal standpoint, I’ve done what I thought was an incredible job in simplifying my life, paring my responsibilities down to my employment and the want to further my musical ability. However, by revealing two distinctly different pursuits, I have unintentionally exposed a serious issue.

On June sixteenth, 1858 in Springfield Missouri, Abraham Lincoln stated “a house divided against itself cannot stand.” It is these words that best describe the chasm that exists between my personal and professional life. To rectify this situation, it would seem I have three options: one is to categorize my pursuit of music as strictly a hobby, thereby granting myself the ability to focus squarely on my job. For many years my work was my sole reason for existence; the problem with this was exactly the reason I rediscovered my love of music, as my subconscious was obviously trying to communicate my dissatisfaction with my then current state of affairs. Two, I could pursue my love of music, forgoing my professional life altogether. This is an almost unthinkable course of action, but as it’s diametrically opposed to the first option, it exists as a viable choice (please see the post which expounds on the totality of experience).

The third alternative (and the path I currently occupy) is to continue dividing my time between pursuing excellence at my place of employment, and pursuing musical fluidity and fluency. Although the reference to Lincoln’s Springfield speech might seem somewhat dramatic, the point is, I don’t think this option is really a possibility. Why? This is something that only each of us can define for ourselves, but my definition of giving it all that I have cannot find itself split in two.

There is a fourth option however, and that would be to somehow combine my personal and professional life into one pursuit – to make my work my music. At the present time, this seems completely unrealizable, as my love for music is very specific. This specificity ultimately narrows down to the single prospect of creating my own distinct music for commerce, which at this point, I am simply not ready to do.

So, here I find myself caught between a path that is quite stable, predictable, and secure; and another that is one hundred and eighty degrees away from the first. I’m currently walking perpendicularly at a ninety degree angle – an extremely steep grade that in all likelihood can never fully be scaled. 2011 will begin with an interesting conundrum, one that I must eventually solve to put my “house” in order.

Yesterday, I celebrated my favorite non-denominational holiday, and it was nothing short of exquisite. Although I did not share my dinner with anyone special (or anyone for that matter), I reveled in the fact that all across our nation, people were putting forth positive energy in an appreciative and thankful manner.

However, something quite disturbing happens when the clock strikes midnight. The message of being content completely turns on its head, and the insatiable need to consume becomes the code of the new day.  How this tradition of “Black Friday” became a staple is somewhat of a mystery, but when any guilt can be removed from the buying and selling of goods, it seems Americans react in a most obedient manner.

I am not socialist or communist, but the idea of consumerism, while seemingly benign in theory, seems quite dangerous (and wasteful) in practice. Although the video above is an extreme example, the need for “things” seems for most to supplant the need to grow internally, whether from an intellectual, physical or spiritual standpoint. Amassing a mountain of merchandise will never adequately substitute for being, and it is in this that the adage “money can’t buy happiness” firmly resides.

Although I am not being paid an exorbitant amount of money per annum, I feel that my compensation is commensurate with what I am asked to deliver for Corp, Inc.  But, how is this number derived? It would seem the amount is relative, based on what others make for similar work. However, when looking at highly-paid individuals, whether they are successful entrepreneurs, entertainers, or even ultra-successful professionals, the relativity proverbially flies out the window. Though this exponential increase (re: chasm) between what most earn and the select few is questionable, I am not here to judge, nor am I trying to paint some type of political message (see above). Rather, what I want to express is that the odds of becoming one of these select few is difficult, so it would seem in one’s best interest (statistically speaking) to temper the need to consume with the need to grow. And growth ironically, requires almost no capital; could this be then seen as consumption’s polar opposite? Or am I comparing apples to oranges? Another thought for another time. The point is, do not fall prey to the blind need to consume. Gifts are fleeting, while growth lasts forever.

Musing on the Sounds

It’s no secret that I reignited my love for music approximately twenty-two months ago when I unearthed my guitar from the depths of my storage space. Since then, I have been quite diligent and vigilant in maintaining my practice schedule, and I can say with a good deal of confidence that I am finally at a place where I can simply pick up the instrument and “play.” However, this newfound skill came with a price; in retrospect, it’s laughable, but at the moment of inception, it was quite frightening indeed. So, rather than hem and haw, I’ll cut right to the chase.

Last week, I went to visit my primary physician with the complaint of “hearing voices.” This is, without a doubt, an extremely serious matter as one can attest to, and it had me quite worried. I couldn’t hear what these voices were saying, and I wasn’t entirely convinced they were even voices in the first place (although it was most certainly a pitched sound, and it had the timbre of what I thought was a human voice). After describing in detail what I was experiencing, my physician did due diligence and asked about my life and if there were any changes from the norm since I had last seen him. The only thing I could think of was my voracious appetite for music, and at this, he began to chuckle. An innocent question, dripping with such sarcasm that I at once felt naive and ignorant, he asked “have you ever tried to play what these voices are trying to say?” I suddenly realized what he was implying, and that is, I am hearing musical phrases unique to my own experience.

I now find myself charting a new musical course as I begin to stitch these melodies together and create original compositions. It begins one way, and then mutates into something a bit more concrete – now, it’s at the point where I can sing things without having to force myself to remember them, as they make “sense.” And it’s precisely at this point where I now feel I possess a skill. What keeps me honest is not being in a rush, not being in a race, and not being concerned with anything other than its existence. And whether this means sharing it with others, or creating strictly for an audience of one, the fact that these melodies appear out of the ether is thrilling enough.

I am now on my way to possessing fluency in a language that can best be described as Western tonal music.