Something About Legacy.

It was a couple of weeks ago when my editor finished the first half of my novel. He told me that it needed a couple of things done to it and what I needed to work on, but he said it was fine and that alot of people would be able to relate to the main character.

I wondered how much of my voice he changed. I started to look at the track changes of the word document and it started to scare the shit out of me. So the next sane thing I did was to save it in my google drive account and start reading the story on my iPad. I started getting goosebumps. I wondered what he changed. Then I noticed that whatever the hell he did, everything flowed. It was amazing and I was walking around my house pumped and on cloud 9 (I hate that statement, but you know what I mean, though).

But the only thing running through my head, besides how of a pig and sexist the main character is in the story, is that this is the first true thing that is of my legacy. Something someone will be able to relate to well past after I’m not present here on this earth. It literally stopped me in my tracks. Think about all the pointless paperwork and deadlines you have ever made in your life. No one gives a shit about it. And yes, not many people will give a shit about my novel, but I do. That is the biggest take away from it all. I actually give a shit about what I’m doing in the world. In writing this novel, that is.

It always blows me away when I hear people, mainly older people and people my age now, say that they built this thing and that. I listen to them and wonder what the fuck they are talking about. They always say that they built this bridge or put this line of pipe in the ground. And every time they say some stupid shit, I call bullshit. You didn’t put a line of pipe in the ground for people to receive supposedly fresh water to drink: you saw or were supervising somebody who actually put the pipe in the ground. And guess what, this is the biggest thing that I don’t think those people realize: If you were not the one to actually supervise the person who physically put the pipe in the ground, some other person who had the mind and college degree would have supervised the person who put the pipe in the ground. See, what I’m getting at is that what you are hired for and do in the world, anyone could have actually done it and the outcome would have been similar, a little shitty or better than the effort you put into it. But it doesn’t matter, it would have gotten done and the world, not really knowing or acknowledging it, would have been better for it.

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The Blank Page and What to Do With It.

I really do love the blank page. Something about not having shit on it and me taking the time to spit out something, is magical. Sure this sounds crazy and I’m just thinking out of my mind, but something about nothing and giving it some effort to turn it into something: inspires me.

I think that is one of the reasons why I love to write. It doesn’t matter if I plan and plan and then write or spontaneously put pen to paper and scribble some stuff, it’s magical. It could also mean that I love being the creator. It could be why, when in college, I gravitated to engineering. I was going to be given the chance, with math, reason and logic, to create something. I don’t know why I don’t give a shit about engineering anymore, but the process and doing of what a creator does is something that hasn’t left me at all. Now in my case, I choose life, a piece of paper with a pen, or a computer and my fingers and my eye to snap a picture in order to create.

Lately I’ve been thinking about how the fuck am I going to create a masterful plan of execution of publishing my book. I’ve started reading one of two books that I believe that is going to help me on that plan. It’s scary and alarming and I’m still quite confused how it is going to help me. I know that my mind is spinning in and out of control and I’m loving the process. The reason why is because I know my plan of attack is forming and still needs some time before the act of creativity and process to catch up to one another to feed me what I need to create and do.

I find inspiration from everything. Everything truly matters and I see that as I continue to push myself to learning and growing, my mind will be allowed to create. I wasn’t always like this. I wanted and only cared about performing the actual ‘creative’ act. Whether it be the story or thought being written or the simple motion of clicking the photo, that is all that I cared about. I let the gear get in my way and didn’t use the most important gear, which and always will be my brain.

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It’s About the Process. Nothing else. Just the Process.

For the past couple of weeks. Hell, I lie. For the past month or so I’ve been craving and experimenting with coffee. It’s my new love and I don’t think it is something that is going away. Not only do I benefit from the great and sometimes horrible coffees that I taste, it’s the process of figuring out what I like, with what device, that is allowing me to explore a place that was so exotic to me. See, here is the thing, I’m a lover, a big lover of tea. I love the shit. I can drink green tea (Gunpowder from Adaigo Teas is the best) any part of the day. One of the reasons why I love it so much is because you can steep it up to three times and still get similar characteristics from one steep session to the next, but what I truly love about it is how different I can make it from time to time. It just depends how I want it during that time of day. I’m comfortable and loving the tea making process just as much as drinking the damn stuff. But the thing lately is that my big ass tea bag is still a big ass tea bag because I’ve been in love with coffee.

Just like with anything, it’s a process that goes along with it. No matter what it is, especially in the beginning, you will fuck up. You have to allow yourself to fuck up and get frustrated. It is the only way that you will grow.

Last month I had a crazy challenge to out do my day gig with my side hustle. I failed. It was ambitious and I worked my ass off. Just ask my wife on how many hours I spent either away from home or making boxes or in my phone answer customer emails. It was and still hard work and I know that I’ve devoted so much time to it, but I’m seeing the process and progress through and things are happening. One of the biggest change that I have started to do is making this process as easy for me. So now I’m changing the way I’m doing it, making it run more efficient and decreasing my time. It’s a so so process and it is working for me, I just have to convince my dad this way works best for me. I guess what I’m realizing is that I’m okay with change. Some people aren’t. Whatever the case, the system is different and getting better with my side hustle and I know when I look up from a month from now it will change again for the better.

So, why all this talk about coffee, tea and side hustle? Well, they have something similar to each other which is the process of doing things. You are never going to be good at something unless you get frustrated and keep going. Try it differently, but keep doing that thing. Over the Christmas break my wife and I watched an amazing documentary called “Jiro Dreams of Sushi”. It was the best documentary I’ve watched in a while. I highly highly recommend it. The cliff notes of it is that you first find your passion and you keep getting better at it every day. I’ve done that in many parts of my life and didn’t realize it until watching the film. Constantly doing and doing and learning and getting frustrated brings experience. It’s quite an amazing thing if you think about it.
This year is no exception. I took the break to look at myself and figure out what I wanted to do for the year. My mind wasn’t as clutter as previous years. I guess I’m getting better about cutting shit out. There were two things that kept creeping up and I thought about how the hell I was going to do both of them. Both require so much time from me in different ways and could easily interfere with the other. It’s interesting having two things still makes things complicated. But that is what I have on my plate.

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