It’s funny how art mimics life, or how life mimics art.  The hero of my book has compulsions that seem to border on anger.  And it’s no surprise my compulsions border on anger.  Artists have issues.  One of the best ways to work them out is to put it into art.

Do you work at the US Mint?

I was waiting for a free table at my favorite place to write, Borders. And I overheard a high school student asking a grad student about working in the financial sector.  The grad student had financial looking books on the long table.  He said that if you worked for this certain company doing this certain kind of trade, you’d make a lot of money.

Something inside me wanted to jump up, slap the grad student across the face, and take the high school student, shake him, and tell him to follow his passions.

If that’d happened, then I’d be writing this post in jail.

The more important question was why did I react this way. And why do I react this way when I hear people say, “Do this and you’ll make lots of money.” Or the more infamous, “I’ve created a system that will create fast, easy money, bring you girls from all over the world. See this car I’m driving? Would you like to drive this car?” Then in faint, white fine print ‘Results may vary. Results not typical.’  The kind of fine print that not even Sherlock Holmes could find.

As I was waiting for a table, I checked through my unread emails and came across a newsletter from Michael Neill. Check him out. He’s awesome. He wrote about the difference between earning money and making money.

Aren’t those two the same?

The only people in America that make money are the people who work in the US Mint. The rest of us earn money.

The earning part is where most people don’t understand.

I was talking to a friend yesterday and he’s helping his close friend produce some videos. My friend said he knew how to get free actors. We laughed because actors would work for free just to get their faces and names out there. But these actors are on to something. They’re putting the work in, serving others, with the hope that it’ll pay them back.

To start a fire in a fireplace, you must give it wood. This wood is the service you give before you can get heat, the payback.  Life is full of dualities.  Giving and receiving are two sides of the same coin, the yin and yang, complete opposites that work with each other.

Will I make money from my books? No. Unless I use the pages to print money. But that would be a big no no.

My job as a writer is to write the best book that I can write, to write the story given to me, and have fun doing it.  I’ve put my soul into it.  As the fame photographer Rodney Lough has said, art is the language of the soul.  Everything else follows.

I was watching TV and saw a commercial for a Nerf sword. “Ooh,” I said.

My friend who saw my reaction said,“How old are you?“

What does that matter?

The lead character of my book has defied age and experience.  Part of moving up the military echelon requires the dueling of more experienced, higher ranking warriors.  Being a tenderwing, a term used for a child or inexperience, the hero never let that get in his way.  Not that he wasn’t intimidated or ever scared.  But his father taught him that whatever you think you are.  Therefore, he never thought about his inexperience.  He only focused on his skills.

In Eastern philosophy any change must start from the inside, in particular the mind.  It’s the mind that leads and the body must follow.  Think about this.  You’re thirsty.  Your mind commands your hand to pick up that beer.  Then it commands your arm to bring that frosty drink to your mouth, etc.

So why is it when both men and women want to look younger do they start from the outside?  Worse yet, they don’t even go to the inside.  Women tend to use more make up, wear their daughter’s clothes.  Men date younger women, drive expensive sport cars.  None communicates youth but communicates, “I’M STILL YOUNG DAMMIT!”

My excitement of the Nerf sword was truly my excitement for a kid’s toy.  Inside I feel young as if I was still twelve.  I love to play.  I love fun.  I wonder about our world and ask questions every day.  Isn’t that what kids do?

“Why is the sky blue?”

“Why does that fat man eat so much?”

“Where do babies come from?”

“Why were you praying to dad last night?”

At first I thought my immaturity was my rebelling against growing up.  But the things I’ve accomplished in my life have required the maturity of an adult.  I just go back to playing whenever I can.  Most of nature is this way.  Lions lounge around all day, except when it’s time to hunt and eat.  Dog’s love to play ball, have their ears scratched, their bellies rubbed.  Dolphins leap into the air cause it’s fun.  Why else would they do it?  It doesn’t serve any other purpose.

Every day take a moment to have a little fun, or a lot.  It may serve a purpose, but definitely doesn’t have to.

Have fun.  Have the wonderment of children.

Let go.  This is a concept I’m working on in my life.  Letting go.

I wanted to win, badly.  I was bowling with a bunch of coworkers, and we were on the second game.  I stepped left of the middle arrow, aimed my ball just right of the middle pin.  My breath was filled with anxiety.  I wanted to win.  Steps were taken and I swung.  Seven pins went down.

Fine.

I can take down three.  On my second bowl, I forced the ball down the lane and missed the pin by an inch.  Three pins remained standing, mocking me.  Crap!  I sat down as my coworkers took their turns.  Suddenly, I said fuck it, and decided to just have fun.  Turn after turn, I got spares, strikes, and celebrated each small victory.  I wasn’t even paying attention to my score.  As a result of letting go, I’d bowled my best game.  Keep in mind that my average score is 100.  That day I bowled 186.

One day, as  a team building activity, my coworkers came up with a scavenger hunt that took us through an open mall.  There were about a dozen things we had to collect, and I wasn’t really looking forward to it.  However, I took the time to appreciate what I had–health, job, awareness, food, bank account, etc.

Once we started, I wanted to win.  So did everyone else.  My team of three left in a hurry and started to read the clues to scavenge the items needed.  We seemed to find things pretty quickly, as I’m the worst navigator.  My other team member, never having been at that mall, seemed know the mall like the back of her hand.  She stated she loved malls.  Good enough.  I hoped we were ahead, hoped the other teams were falling behind.

Then we crossed several teams, indicating they were all ahead of us.  I was bummed.  In that moment, I let go without knowing I let go.  I decided to just have fun.  To appreciate the day that my company was paying for us to run around like kids.

As we scavenged and collected, we neared the end of the list.  The very last clue urged us to go to the restaurant we were to eat lunch.  Our gait turned to a speed walk, turned to skipping, turned to a jog, then we stopped.  The restaurant came into view, and our managers were standing there waiting for us.  They were not allowed to participate, but to verify what we collected were correct.  And we were first.  How could this be when we were behind?  Several minutes passed, and the other teams dragged themselves to the final station.

I’d let go without knowing.

Throughout my life, I’ve noticed that when I tried to control the other team by hoping they’d do badly, I would do badly.  Only when I focused on what I was doing, caring about what I did, and, most importantly, had fun, I did well.  Not only that, but when I celebrated my minor successes, not showboating, my successes increased.

How do you let go?

Focus on what you’re doing, have fun, celebrate each success, learn from the failures that are disguised as lessons.