Topher Pike's Blog, page 91
July 7, 2018
Blackbird – Chapter 5
I WAS DOING absolutely everything I could to stay inspired as I continued to find my voice. I looked everywhere for opportunities to encourage or assist the people that encircled my life. I bought breakfast for the person behind me when I picked up my morning coffee and actively searched for anyone requiring a helping hand.
Every day I made a conscious effort to change how I interacted with my structured environment and the disenchanted people I encountered. I even kept a dozen five-dollar bills in my pocket to give to anyone you looked like they needed them more than I did. Saying thank you for every little thing in my life became an obsession. The smallest things others would do for me became hugely significant. It felt selfish at times because my primary reason for doing these acts was to stay inspired.
[image error]The spontaneous reactions produced would fuel not only my writing but my belief that each act of kindness would get me closer to my personal goals. I was looking for valid reasons to believe in moments of widespread uncertainty, and each time I would give something back I felt strengthened and inspired. I didn’t have a ton of monetary possessions I could donate but desperately tried to find innovative ways to give in return for spontaneous inspiration.
Once I released the conflicting feelings of guilt I was able to realize the freedom and power of giving. Getting something in return was no longer a dominant motive, inspiration became a by-product. If creativity or insight came, I would only show gratitude. Once I started to think from this mind, I found even more creative inspiration.
I knew the spiritual path I was following had alternative answers to my pain, but there were so many days I felt like I was running against a heavy wind. I couldn’t fight the conflicting feelings pouring into my spirit like a darkened rainstorm. I started using visualization techniques and affirmations to combat the thirty-seven years of negative programming trying to break me.
All the inspirational books and motivational videos I was consuming couldn’t adequately describe how difficult it was to stay in a positive state of mind while fighting for sustainable peace. There wasn’t a book written that could tell me exactly how to keep on the right side of depression because no one has walked in my shoes.
Every upward path is unique, and everyone has their bloodthirsty demons to conquer. I knew if I dared to keep walking the gravel road I would eventually find a way paved with my dreams and desires. I would imagine living in my new house surrounded by my family. I would picture myself intensely shaking the hand of a young looking brunette who was inspired to follow her passion after reading my book. I would get so much joy from the beautiful pictures I was creating I started to cultivate more and more.
I soon realized that many of the dramatic scenes I was scripting took place thousands of miles away in my hometown. It started to feel silly to imagine a memorable scene that would never come to life.
Although my wife had been pushing for us to move home for years I never really seen any plausible scenarios that this could work. We had a mortgage and steady jobs. We built a life in the city and to pick up and start over always seemed irresponsible to me. We would have to find a new place to live, new careers and start at the bottom of the food chain. To make a radical move of this magnitude and completely start from nothing was crazy in my mind.
We had some family and friends throughout the city, but my wife always felt she was missing something. Every time I conservatively thought about the possibility of relocating I formulated scenarios where things went disastrously. What if we couldn’t find good jobs in an economy that was declining. What if we couldn’t afford to pay our rent along with our mortgage. What if the romantic picture my wife was imagining wasn’t what awaited her on the other side. What kind of toll would this outcome take on our marriage?
There were so many reasons to mind trick myself that this was a bad idea. Could my ego handle starting from an empty canvas with a cheap paintbrush and an illusion only I could see through blended colors that surrounded my thoughts?
With a gap between meetings one afternoon, I decided to find a shaded bench, so I could sit and contemplate my preferred direction. I was doing this with more frequency and most breaks I had during my day I would find a comfortable place to sit and listen to music or the sounds of nature.
I remember the weather that day was strange. It was one of those rare days when the blinding sun was shining as isolated raindrops quietly fell on my freshly shaven head. Only a few clouds were resting in the vaulted sky above the sun as I attempted to find words to describe this meteorological phenomenon.
Like little diamonds in the air I tried catching the raindrops one by one. I could feel the warmth of the direct sunlight as each one touch my outstretched arm. I brought my hand closer and closed it gently to watch the irregular rainfall drip onto my bended knee. It was such an eerie feeling to sit underneath a rainstorm and stare into the sun. I was so captivated by the light reaching through the pouring rain that I lost my sense of reality and projected myself back to my hometown.
One by one, my eyes sunk back into my thoughts as the rain dissipated and evaporated into the afternoon sky. I leaned straightened against the parallel wooden slats and tapped my hands on both knees. The music booming from my headphones moved further down my side and occupied my fingertips. Each infected finger moved to the music as my moistened knees became like a piano elevated from the dingy basement to find its place on center stage. The reconstructed images of my hometown started to sync to the music playing in the center of my mind.
As the last lonely raindrop fell from the sky, I knew what direction I needed to take. I knew the journey home would be difficult, but it felt complete as the music guided my head back and forth. No questions were forming in my mind because at that moment I was the one asking the question. Is this the right path I asked myself?
I waited in silence for a couple of minutes but didn’t get an immediate response. However, when I opened my sunken eyes, the answer revealed itself within the romantic landscape in the distance. It wasn’t hidden but curved down from the heavens connecting with the earth. What stood over the mountains was the blended colors of a freshly created rainbow. I started to shake my head from side to side in shock because I couldn’t believe the timing of this brilliant rainbow.
Without the momentary silence, I don’t think I would have received it as a response. It wasn’t too long ago I was asked a question that changed the course of my life. Now within an unexplainable phenomenon, I was the one inquiring. It was time for a change, and it was time to return home.
I wasn’t sure how I was going to explain to my wife about the decision I just made. I had no idea how she was going to react. We talked about making a move over a year ago but never really talked about setting a date. I was always so fearful of the idea that I would change the subject immediately when I saw the thought forming on her tongue. Anytime she would talk about the logistics I would find something to divert her attention.
When I sat down at the kitchen table after returning home from work I desperately wanted to tell her I was ready. Each time the unspoken words were about to be released, I would think and rethink reasons why this was a terrible idea. I came up with around six different reasons to subtract and retract the decision I felt within the tranquility of the rainbow connection.
I decided to wait for a better time and helped my wife set the table. We had a beautiful display of veggies to go with our pasta boiling over in the steel pot. We sat in silence and both dove into our salads. I grabbed my empty fork and loaded the veggies one by one to bring them closer to my closed mouth. When I did this, again and again, my attention shifted to the position of the veggies. I noticed the colors of the red pepper, orange pepper, yellow carrots and freshly cut green lettuce sitting one on top of the other. As I stared at the curved fork, I could instinctively feel the colors of this little rainbow.
I removed the silence, and without hesitation, I told my wife I was ready to make arrangements to move back home before Christmas. My wife didn’t know how to react to what I was suggesting. Although I could see the sudden excitement flushing through her face, I also anticipated her anxiety approaching. I don’t think she ever thought I would seriously consider moving back to our hometown, but the tangible reality was hard for her to grasp.
We didn’t have much time to prepare, so my wife handled most of the details and proceeded to gather all the information and resources we needed to make our journey. If you have ever moved your family across the country, you will understand the amount of careful preparation required for such an unexpected departure. From big things like finding tenants for our home to small things like buying pet carriers for our animals. The administrative details were consuming our daily lives.
To completely change the direction of your life midstream can create a feeling of drowning or a floating sensation. There was a lot to accomplish, but I was confident it would unfold the right way. Saying goodbye to family and friends was difficult, but we felt it was the right river to cross. I resisted the move for many years, but it felt freeing to let go of the fear and embrace whatever waited for me on the other side.
When we arrived at the airport, it seemed a little surreal. We had been systematically planning our journey back home for a couple of months, but as we securely sat in the domestic terminal, it became apparent that there was no turning back.
Our house had renters, and all our possessions were either sold, given away or in route to our new destination. Although my daughter couldn’t comprehend our decision, we were now embarking on a new beginning. Our lives were about to change forever, and the everyday world of comfort we had built was being traded in for an uncertain existence in a place we once called home.
When we made our way through the adjoining hallway and approached the outside of the aircraft, my stomach turned. I didn’t have any reservations at that moment, but as the inner doorway opened, I felt uneasy. It was like the first time I ever flew. I couldn’t shake the nervous feeling as we found our empty seats. I tried to find a comfortable position but every way I shifted I felt enclosed.
Once the winged vehicle powered its way toward the lighted runway, I knew it was about to take flight. I heard the forceful wind blowing up against the wings as the engine was preparing to take off and pushed forward despite resistance. The adverse wind that looked like it could ground the plane was the same wind that lifted it into the moonless sky. The entire city shrunk as my exaggerated fears expanded.
When we made our way above the dark clouds, I could see my daughter looking for shelter under her mothers’ arms. Before long she was fast asleep, and the sophisticated aircraft leveled off to set course for its destination. As I looked down at her peaceful face, I still couldn’t free the nocturnal butterflies circling in my empty stomach.
Unsure of how to release the nagging worry and doubt rising I grabbed my trusty phone. One at a time I fastened my noise canceling headphones to each ear. I never had a song in mind, but I knew my connection to music had a sure way to lift me above the ominous clouds surrounding my excessive worry.
I leaned back in my cushioned chair, took a deep breath and pressed play. With my bowed head resting against the window overlooking the billowy clouds below I heard drumming. Seconds later I could feel instrumentals. One of my favorite songs of all time began to make its way from my cellular phone to my developing mind. I was listening to this song since high school but as the lyrics penetrated my tormented soul the circling butterflies vanished.
The song was Take Me Home by Phil Collins, and as I listened intently to the vocals, I began to hear something different in the song I never heard before. When the melodious song reached the chorus, I could feel myself getting lighter. The lyrics combined with the uplifting beat was transforming my worry into hope.
I felt so empowered by the emotions I had no reservations as the pools of water purposely flowed. Each salty tear fell onto my grandfather’s ring he’d given to me when I was a young man. Each one rolled off the back of my open hand with so much ease. I decided the worry that circled my mind wasn’t real. It was created and fueled by my thoughts. If I can generate the concern, I could also release it. I could change the view and let go of what I couldn’t control. What happens next was no longer my concern.
My only intention when the winged aircraft touched down was to feel the love of my family. That was the only thing I was sure was patiently waiting on the ground. All other self-inflicted fears and worries were figments of my growing imagination. I was tactically planning for worst case scenarios that may or may not take place, so I decided to take the look of worry from my face.
I felt such a sense of freedom when I released myself from this private prison. I was no longer a product of my fears but an observer of my thoughts. I can’t fully control what the stars will bring into my life. What I can control is my reaction and response to every scenario as it presents itself. From that point, I made a conscious choice to stop using my imagination to create unseen worry and only use it for the glory it was intended.
Check back in next Sunday for Chapter 6 – Accidental Discovery
Preview
WHEN THE STABLE aircraft was making its final descent through the broken clouds, I observed the rocky landscape surrounding the calmness of the ocean. With each measured kilometer dropped I could almost hear the harmonic waves pushing up against the shore. It’s only desire was to…Read Full Chapter
July 5, 2018
Wake Me
This quote came to me after a conversation with a friend who was going through some difficult times. After a spirited and candid conversation, I demanded my friend stop feeling sorry for himself and start making the necessary changes. I told him not to call me until he had made the progress we had discussed.
It might be a hard conversation to have with yourself or the ones you love, but sometimes it must be had. If you believe someone is ready to change the way they think about life, show them a direction they may not be able to find—a direction that can transform their thoughts into actions and their dreams into reality. This quote will also help you fight the internal battle you will face between the two voices on either side of depression.
Use this quote when you start to talk about and discuss the disappointment of yesterday.
Read more from 101 Quotes That Will Change Your Life
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July 1, 2018
Blackbird – Chapter 4
The following Tuesday morning I found myself sitting in front of my most prominent client. I had a good relationship with him at the time, so our conversations were casual. At first, I hesitated to tell him about my plans for writing my first book but felt an urge to bring him closer to my idea. He always knew what he wanted, so our weekly meetings were more relaxed than most others.
I didn’t get into too many descriptive details because I still didn’t know exactly how my book was going to play out. All I knew is I had close to forty quotes I was going to package into a best-selling book. I decided to recite a couple of the quotes I had written years ago to gauge an emotional response. He asked me what each quote meant so I preceded to explain each one and how I used them to stay motivated and work through troubling days.
He then said something that captured my developing imagination and impregnated my idea. He suggested I write about each quote and their stabilizing influence in my day to day life. I appreciated his insight and thanked him as I grabbed his purchase order on my way out the door. On the way to the truck, I couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said. I had the quotes preloaded on my phone from the night before, so I started to read out loud each one as I sat in the crowded parking lot.
[image error]Although I hesitated to tell him about my book, I realized the answers to my unresolved questions might exist all around me. I was so focused on finding acceptable solutions on my own I forgot to look at the integrated environment that surrounded my thoughts. Maybe my experiences and interactions held more definitive answers than I realized. Perhaps I wasn’t alone as I attempted this impossible dream. I began to articulate the self-direction and visible emotions each quote brought to the surface. I never descriptively translated my quotes in detail or with such intense feeling.
In between every preplanned meeting, I would reread a quote and instinctively unlock the keyboard on my phone. By the end of the day, I had successfully interpreted three quotes I had written right before the birth of my daughter. I had these quotes in my head for over a year and although I knew what they represented it was the first time I illustrated my intimate thoughts.
When I finished up my day, I thought about my daughter and the puzzle we worked on the night before. When she tossed the jagged pieces on the coffee table, she had no idea where to start. She could see the picture of a colorful rainbow on the exterior of the box, but the pieces on the inside needed configuration. This idea of different parts of a puzzle fitting into place started to translate into my own life.
After work that day I came home and sat on the right side of the stained cedar bench I built that spring. On both sides of the rounded slats, I attached two cedar planter boxes. I bought two preplanned sets of mixed flowers to put in the roughly sanded planters to add a little color. I sat between the contrasting colors to email a client back about his previous order, but I couldn’t find the simple words to reply. I found myself in a dreamlike daze looking at the inconspicuous flowers on the left. When I realized my subconscious state, I shook my head and looked down at my phone to continue my reply.
Before I could type a single word, I found myself moving to the right as more complementary colors shifted my sense of reality. I shook my head for the second time and looked again at my phone. I stared at the screen for a couple of seconds before I decided to place it next to my right knee. I reached both arms perpendicular to my body and touched both sets of delicate flowers. My thumb and index fingers began to rub the silky petals. There was no friction, but I could feel the heat from the sun as the westerly wind blew up underneath the hairs on my arm.
Right as I was about to close my eyes, I felt my phone vibrating. It was an email from the client I discussed my book with earlier in the day. I immediately started to rethink the structure of my book and how I was going to incorporate my thoughts around each quote. I wanted to turn a simple book of quotes into a reflection of my intellection, but forty quotes were not enough material. I decided I needed one hundred quotes to give my writing some depth. I began to think how long it would take me to formulate another fifty plus quotes. I could feel the edge of darkness taking root.
If it took me over six years to write forty quotes, it would probably take another six years before my book was close to being completed. My chin moved to the top of my chest as the impossible feat became apparent. I sat incarcerated in another moment of self-defeat. I took a disheartening breath and gazed at the flowers to my right. However, this time my attention wasn’t on the colorful petals but the dampened soil were the roots remained. This beautiful display of nature would be nothing without the habitable earth surrounding the base, and the flowers wouldn’t exist without the promise of a seed planted.
I had an instinct to reach my hand into the planter and touch the loose soil, so I didn’t hesitate and reached. As my four fingers made contact something happened to me, I still have trouble explaining. A quote came to me out of nowhere. “Nothing in life is out of reach if you haven’t reached for it.” My head sprung from my chest, and I shook my head for the third time. I grabbed my phone and started to type frantically. Before I could put my phone down another quote appeared in my mind. Every time I would finish typing another would flash through my inquisitive mind. It happened again and again. Time seemed to disappear as my thoughts and thumbs worked in perfect motion.
After about an hour I stood up in another momentary daze unsure of what happened. The quotes that took me six years to accumulate I had surpassed in a little over an hour. What seemed impossible an hour before was now a reality. After I read the prophetic words for the first time I projected back to the moment when I submerged my fingertips in the soil surrounding the flowers. My unspoken thoughts became precious seeds. Each one had the potential for growth, but without the natural beauty of the fertile earth and a constant flow of water, they cannot grow.
My eyes then moved to the weeds growing from under my deck. They used the same earth to develop through the cracks, but the soil surrounding them was dry and rocky. The dirt and the seed below the surface of my deck were different. I started to see the power my thoughts had to create and what they produced was a product of the seed and the soil.
Over the next month, I couldn’t stop writing. Every free moment I had away from my family and work I was writing. I can still remember the touch of the keys as my fingers punched each uppercase letter into a new sound. When I sat in front of my inexpensive laptop, it was like I turned into a different person. I was still a father and husband who worked a nine to five job, but when I touched the keyboard, I felt transformed.
One night after my wife and daughter went to bed I remember reading some of the work I did the previous day. Sometimes I wouldn’t look at a word I wrote all week so I could sit back and rediscover the language that translated my thoughts. I sat with a drink to contemplate my thoughts. I would think and rethink the words I created. I would replace the empty words that didn’t move me and delete sentences that didn’t add to the message. I would sometimes have completely different paragraphs when I finished.
It started off as a couple of simple words but turned into full sentences and the sentences started to form sections on the page. As the blank pages began to develop more paragraphs, I realized without small steps my book could never be completed. With each critical action, I could see the progression. Writing a few words each day created continual progress and the rhythmic sequence pushed my writing even further.
Within this idea of continued progression, everything around me started to have more in-depth meaning. I didn’t see the reddish basket as I reached for my morning apple. I began to see the man who planted the seed. The long hours it took him to prepare the undisturbed soil before it pushed through the ingrained dirt. His patience as he carefully watched it continuously rise from the earth. The journey he made to bring the shiny apple to market. Before that day all I could see was a single apple. I never gave any thought to the extended route the apple took to land in that basket. If one man never intended to plant the seed and make the sacrifices, I wouldn’t be able to reap the benefit of its taste.
Every single word I would write from that moment would have a different significance. The keys made even more remarkable sounds as I would punch them desperately trying to water every original thought emerging. With each novel idea entering my mind I felt myself growing. It was like I was changing but I wasn’t changing at all. I was still the same person on the outside, but inside I felt the impulse to push through the debris and feel the sunshine pass through my body.
I decided to write under the name Topher Pike around this time. I decided to use this pen name because as I was writing, I didn’t feel like the same person. I could feel myself changing so I used the name to symbolize a new beginning in my life. It wasn’t because I was trying to forget the past, it was more about embracing the future. I realized that every personal experience in my life leads to this moment and without its clockwise direction, I would never be able to discover the gift of today.
Every day I decided to embrace my creative passion was a gift that could not be described by a singular name. With a new chapter about to be written, I realized that the name printed on the cover paled in comparison to the one created behind the pages. I had a new name, but I wasn’t leaving my past behind. I was building a stage and an original script where my past experiences could play a leading role.
I wasn’t even a quarter through my book when I got my original cover back. It was the first time I saw my name in print. I peered for a few long minutes as the glass of red wine slowly found my lips. I was proud of what I was creating, but as my eyes moved up and down the image, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. I couldn’t put my hand on it, but I just felt it needed a stronger statement.
I stepped away for a few short minutes as I became irritated with my indecisiveness. I decided to call my mom to tell her about the cover to get her thoughts. Besides my wife, my mom is always the first person I talk to about my writing. She may not have the answers I am looking for but I know I can trust her honest opinion and get a boost of faith.
After a lengthy conversation about my book, we started to talk about my brother and how he was coping in their new apartment. My mom and stepfather were in the process of separation, and she said he wasn’t himself lately. He seemed a little depressed, and she wasn’t sure how to get through to him. She asked me to give him a call to see if I could talk to him. I didn’t realize my brother was battling so many demons because we didn’t speak that much besides catching him walking by when I was talking with my mom. I was in such a different place than my brother, but I knew firsthand what depression could do to a young soul.
I knew he was writing a lot of poetry over the last year so I decided to troll his Instagram before I made contact. I always found it funny he started writing poetry around the same age I did. I kept in touch with him over the years, but I left my hometown for the big city when he was a kid. I never had the chance to watch him grow into a man. The last time we connected was playing a game of Mario brothers on his old school Nintendo. He was about to turn twenty-one and to be honest I still thought of him as a hyperactive child.
When I read his work for the first time, I got a glimpse into his soul. He wasn’t the same kid that sat on the edge of the bed waiting for me to save the princess. His writing was good, but I could feel so much recurrent pain behind his words. Each poem I indulged seemed to be surrounded by repressed darkness. I knew he was struggling with the change, but I had no idea how it was affecting his spirit. My mom was trying everything she could to help but what twenty-year-old kid wants to listen to his mother.
I started to actively think of different ways I could approach him to see if I could shift his thinking from the dark side. When I looked down at my cover once again I realized it wasn’t different words I was missing; it was a number. I needed one more quote to finish my book, and I had a brand-new pen I wanted my brother to grip. I wasn’t sure how he was going to react to my request when I texted him a few days later. I was already sending him a few quotes to get his thoughts but would never hear anything back. I wanted him to contribute the final quote because I felt that he needed to shift his thinking. I knew the dangerous path he was walking because I traveled down the same narrow road.
I knew he had taken a break from writing so I thought I would try and spark his imagination with a new project and introduce him to some of the ideas I was studying. My request was simple, but I knew it would be a problematical task in the current state he was experiencing. I asked him to write a quote that would not only inspire others but show how a positive outlook can shift your thinking. He’s a sharp guy, so I figured he knew my underlining motives.
I hoped my brother would find an innate strength he never knew existed. He was open to the idea and started to send me a few quotes. Although he was struggling to find the farsighted words to add to my message I was extremely proud as I watched him peak through the door with one eye open. It would be over a month before I received his final draft but what I found within his words gave me inherent hope it wouldn’t take him thirty-seven years to start his journey.
Check back in next Sunday for Chapter 5 – Embracing Change
Preview
I was doing absolutely everything I could to stay inspired as I continued to find my voice. I looked everywhere for opportunities to encourage or assist the people that encircled my life. I bought breakfast for the person behind me when I picked up my morning coffee and actively searched for anyone requiring a helping hand. Every day I made a conscious effort to change how…Read full Chapter
Attainable Goals
Leadership skills have become a great characteristic for your resume. It has such a narrow connotation that most believe it is a trait held by someone in a corner office. Leadership is not about how much money you make or how many people you control. You can make millions of dollars a year and manage dozens of employees, but that does not qualify you as a leader. It may put you in a position with a nice view but great leaders are not given people to follow them; they create ideas and direction that invite followers.
They decide that what they see is attainable, and they believe in success despite obstacles. Leadership skills should not be a tagline to a resume if you believe you can lead. Leadership is not about acquiring the herd but being able to listen when the dogs are barking. Your vision combined with your ability to listen intently will create a pasture where you can lead with your eyes wide open.
Use this quote when you think you are lacking leadership skills.
Read more from 101 Quotes That Will Change Your Life
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June 24, 2018
Blackbird – Chapter 3
Writing has always been a part of who I am. The first time I remember it surfacing was when I was an 18-year-old kid. Fresh out of high school I walked through my university campus trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. With so many unanswered questions and different paths, it became incredibly overwhelming at times. I wasn’t even sure who I was as a man, but I had to decide what I wanted to do for the next forty to fifty years. The competitive pressure that accompanied such a decision came with expectations and conformity. There were times during the first semester I couldn’t even sleep. I would meander from class to class with no real direction but to belong to something I knew nothing about at the time.
I remember finding a rusty metal bench one day that rested between the arts and science buildings. I would impatiently sit for hours between classes trying to figure out the most sensible path. I would watch the educated men and women walk beside me as I became infatuated with individual movements. Each person seemed to have a story hidden within their eyes as they stepped over the inconspicuous flowers bordering the cultivated garden where I contemplated my future. All I had was a pen and paper to capture the raw emotions growing from the silence. I never wrote a poem in my life before I found the right side of that bench. The only time I remember writing anything before then was for school assignments. Within the confusion, I couldn’t control the words spilling from my free university pen.
[image error]I would write over a dozen poems in the first semester. Some days I would even skip class and invite inspiration to find me. Poetry became my only outlet to combat the systematic uncertainty trying to take root in my soul. The freedom of those words provided me with something I am just now starting to understand. Although I began to feel a deeper connection between myself and my environment, I still had to choose a profitable career path. I could never make a living sitting on a bench documenting the thoughts that inspired me to write. I soon decided to follow a few friends and headed across the street to enroll in the business program.
It seemed like the safest bet to land a good job, so I put down my pen and picked up a calculator. My hidden passion would surface a few times over the next twenty years, but it wasn’t until I seen the glory of the celestial sunrise over the horizon I made the connection. I flashed back to all the times in my life when I felt depression and confusion. All the times I felt lost and alone. The one constant thing that always seemed to surface in uncertainty was my passion for writing. I’m not too sure where it originated, but it seemed every time I reached for profound peace and meaning it would find a way to show its expressionless face.
When my alarm went off at five o’clock the following Monday morning, I didn’t have to turn over to find the snooze button. I was already downstairs prepared to start my day. With my lukewarm coffee to the left of my laptop and my pen and pad to the right, I was ready to put something down. I stared at the blinking cursor for an hour, but I had difficulty finding a single word to start my first book. I would drop a few words and hit the backspace button. I would write a complicated sentence but cut it quickly from the page not wanting to read another word. The idea for a book was in my mind, but I had no idea where to start.
I had never written a book before, but I felt something deep inside that this was a road I must follow. I felt passionate about my new project, but I couldn’t see a direction that could take me from a blank page to a finished book. There were so many questions unanswered that the empty page taunted my artistic ambitions. I could feel my shortened heartbeat sync to the lonely cursor as doubt started to take its usual place at the table. I didn’t think I would ever find the words to write a book. When I left for work that day, I wondered if I took on a challenge a little big for my ordinary pen.
With a full day of sales meetings scheduled I jumped in my truck and headed off to see my first client. A week ago, I would have had a tough time letting go of the failure of not finding one word to start my book. Although I felt discouraged, I now could observe what it was doing to my weakened body. I was sitting with my head down without the glimpse of a smile on my face. I wasn’t focused on the day ahead because my thoughts were feeding the demonstrative demons seeking to amplify my fear of failure. As I sat in my truck ready to put the keys in the ignition I made a choice not to listen to this dreadful voice that didn’t serve my new thoughts.
I decided to let go of the disappointment and give one hundred and ten percent into every meeting I had that day. When I opened the door to the first appointment, I felt so confident standing in the freshly painted boardroom. I had no idea what product or service I was going to pitch before I walked into that meeting. All I knew is they were going to feel my excitement and enthusiasm and see the dedication I had to help them grow their business. I attacked every meeting that day with the same positive attitude and each time I walked out with a commitment.
I drove home after my last meeting with the window down, and the tunes cranked. Every victorious song that came on the radio would force me to sing at the top of my lungs. I had seen these client’s multiple times before but could never fully penetrate. In one day I grab more market share than I did the previous month. As I pulled up to my house, I sat in my truck for a few minutes to reflect on the auspicious day I just had. I presented in the same spacious boardrooms weeks before pitching to the same prospective clients, but the outcome was completely different. The only difference I could come up with was my uncompromising attitude. I walked into those meetings with a confidence in myself and a belief that I could close each sale. When I decided to attack my day with purpose and stand up to the doubt and fear I was free to show my true colors. My closing ratio wouldn’t stay at that level over the next few weeks but what I realized is my conscious attitude could change outcomes.
That night after supper, I decided to go for a quick walk to clear my head. I didn’t have a destination and didn’t want to wander too far from home, so I decided to stroll to the park next to my house. It was a place I took my daughter dozens of times before so she could play free and experience the joy of being a child. Cold steel rails and rusted metal chains surrounded the swings and slides as I sat on a wooden bench just outside of the structure. The playground was empty, but my mind was jumping from one end to the other. With each erroneous thought that entered my mind, I struggled to believe the progressive ideas presented to me.
Even though the evidence was starting to reveal itself, I questioned how a simple decision to change my attitude could have an immediate impact on the world around me. Could there be an intrinsic connection between my way of thinking and my external world or was it just a coincidence I had a successful day in the field. I found it hard to comprehend that my perspective and genuine emotions could influence my environment. When I made it back to the trodden path, I imagined how my day would have played out if I didn’t change my mental outlook. What if I went to those meetings with my head resting on my chin. What if I pictured the meeting being canceled instead of walking out the door with a promise. As I was about to make my way home, I realized there might be a quantitative correlation I was missing.
When I placed my foot on the concrete path and started to walk home, I had an insistent urge to stop and look to the right. What stood before me was a steep hill that rested next to the playground leading up to a freshly paved intersection. It wasn’t like I didn’t notice this hill before, but this time I decided to shift my foot back to the tall grass and take a long way home. My mind was exhausted, and my feet were tired. As I made one step at a time, I knew I was getting closer to the top. I couldn’t see the intersection because my sunken eyes were focused on the wet grass brushing up against my sandals.
I pushed my hands down upon my willful knees one at a time to give them the strength to take each step. I felt like a well-oiled machine as my shaky hands and knees worked together in perfect motion. When I finally got to the hilltop, I could barely breathe. I leaned up against a twisted fence post to find the air to continue my journey home. I stood in the middle of the controlled intersection to attempt to make my way down the unfamiliar road. Before I made the hike home, I looked down to see the hill that I had conquered. What I found was a view from the top that immediately captured my unbridled imagination. The panoramic view of the entire city caught my eyes like an intricate undiscovered painting.
The view from the top moved me so much that I couldn’t help but sit on the wet soil and stare out into the mountainous landscape. The park seemed so insignificant as the vastness of the city projected colors so vibrant I couldn’t look away. I could see for miles in every direction as the city looked like a sculptured architectural model. I could almost grip the little buildings making up the skyline with one hand. When my mind sat confined in the park below, I had no idea I just needed to take a few steps to the top of the hill to see the glory of the whole city.
They were challenging steps to take in my exhausted state, but the passion forming as I stared at the skyline was breathtaking. No longer did I feel insignificant or powerless. In the silence of the moment, I started to feel an inherent strength within myself. I could no longer see the tiny park that confused my thoughts because the vision that stood before me now was so big I had to paint it. I couldn’t look away because the glorious picture forming represented a dream more prominent than the sinful thoughts reaching for me at the base of the hill.
When I stood up from the cold damp soil, it was like I grew three inches. I turned to face the intersection and find my way home. As I was walking, I reminded myself of a quote I wrote that always lifted my spirits. “Never underestimate the power of persistence when your path is surrounded with passion.” I took three more steps and suddenly stopped in the middle of the suburban street. Over the years I had written dozens of quotes that I used to help me through tough days and times when I felt depressed and unmotivated. They always gave me a different perspective and helped me overcome some painful moments. Because they were my words, I could feel a unique connection with each quote.
I realized then my first book was already in motion as I stood frozen in the middle of the street. I didn’t have to wait to find my voice because it revealed itself well before the blinking cursor decided to test my faith. My tired feet couldn’t move fast enough as I could see the shadow of my home projecting itself in the distance. I wasn’t running, but my legs were moving as if I removed the hill from my path. I pushed open the front door and attempted to gather all the quotes I had written over the last six years. After scouring my computer, I found close to forty passages. With a new-found purpose, I read each quote over and over until my tired eyes forced me from my desk. I sat on the floor with my wobbly legs crossed in a perfect triangle and my hands on my knees. With a gentle smile, I realized my book was waiting for my arrival.
Over the next week, I started researching everything I could find about writing a book. I had no idea how to format or publish a book. I had an underlying concept for a book but had no previous experience that I could lean on. I would spend hours after my family went to sleep bouncing from website to website trying to find immediate answers. One article would tell me to do it one way, and another would say it was a pure failure. I would get excited after reading one post and agitated after reading another. My emotions were bouncing back and forth from my current reality and the fantasy of publishing my first book.
It seemed impossible I would ever find the direction and resources to reach my goal. Doubt began to creep back into my mind as I read dozens of articles about the failures of first-time authors. The hundreds of repeated rejections they faced trying to get their book to print. I was reading so many articles about failure that the unsolicited material found me before I typed the descriptive words into my google search engine. The information overload started to take a toll on my inquisitive mind and my indomitable energy. I was feeding myself so many reasons why I should quit I talked myself into another familiar story of failure. I decided my foolish dream was too big to accomplish and started scripting the final chapter before I wrote a single word.
The worthwhile goals that gave me so much hope and superhuman courage were gasping for air, but I couldn’t find the strength to fight the negative emotions and doubts growing like weeds. As I was manufacturing the perfect story of why I couldn’t accomplish my goal, I heard my daughter screaming my name from our bedroom. I ran in a panic up the staircase to make sure she wasn’t hurt. When I finally got to the top, I found her laying on our bedroom floor watching her grease filled tablet. We probably let her watch it a little too much, but it was a comprise we let pass. She called me up to the bedroom to put on the song she heard on the radio a few weeks ago.
I wasn’t surprised when she made this request because I put on this one song dozens of times over the last couple of weeks. When I finally pressed play, she grabbed my idle hands, and we danced around the darkened room. Nothing existed at that moment but my daughter, myself and that song. It was only three or four minutes, but I could feel the emotional connection that started my journey. My daughter’s attention quickly turned to our unpredictable cat creeping into her bedroom. As she chased him under her bed, I reach down to the floor to turn off the power. Before my curved finger could make final contact, I heard a message from the artist. Directly at the end of the song when the music stopped, the artist said something that instantly refueled my passion and reopened my mind.
The song was Wild Things by Alessia Cara. I dedicated my first book to that song not just because of that moment, but all the individual moments over the next month I felt the power behind her words. If I thought the hand of doubt was trickling down my spine, I would grab my headphones and press play. I found a strength hidden within the melody. When my tank was running on empty, the lyrics would refuel my earthly passion. When hope started to fade the words would lift my thoughts to a place I couldn’t find on my own. I wanted my book to do the same for another.
I may not be able to sing in tune, but within my words, I desperately wanted others to rediscover their passions. Because of that song, I started to hear hidden meanings in some of my favorite tracks. Some of these songs I had on my playlist before the invention of the iPhone. Songs like Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd and Dig by Incubus. I heard these songs hundreds of times in my thirty-seven years. The melodies were the same, but the words behind the music started to sound distinct and deliberate.
I have no idea what these artists thought when they wrote the lyrics, but my relationship to music was expanding. I started to hear things in songs I never heard before. When I listened to a song on the radio, I wouldn’t recite the lyrics but listen to every word like a child looking to his father for guidance. I would develop a playlist of songs that started to speak to me. I would listen to each anthem playing in my ear as the words revealed secrets within melodies. I contemplated looking up the meanings to these songs to explain what the artist was thinking. I remember that week when Closer to The Heart by Rush came on the radio while I was driving to visit a client.
I pulled over on the side of the road and googled the meaning of the song. As I was about to read someone else’s interpretation, I stopped and considered what I was doing. I developed a close relationship with the lyrics, and I was about to invite someone else to show me how to feel. I turned off my phone and merged back into the right lane. I realized what I felt within that song was mine. It was a relationship I couldn’t let others penetrated. Music would soon forge my creativity and mold a new reality closer to my heart. I was preparing myself to listen from within my heart.
Check back in next Sunday for Chapter 4 – Continuous Progression
Preview
The following Tuesday morning I found myself sitting in front of my most prominent client. I had a good relationship with him at the time, so our conversations were casual. At first, I hesitated to tell him about my plans for writing my first book but felt an urge to bring him closer to my idea. He always knew what he wanted, so our weekly meetings were more relaxed than most others. I didn’t get into too many descriptive details because I still didn’t know exactly how…Read full chapter
June 20, 2018
Casting Judgement
On your journey toward your new life, you will have many people stare at you with skepticism and tell you the life you want is impossible. They will say you don’t have the money, you are not smart enough, or your goals are unrealistic. In their minds they do not believe that your goals and dreams are possible. They cannot see a path to obtain these unrealistic goals you have decided you can achieve.
They may have never gone after their dreams because of this mentality or have tried, failed, and given up. Remember that they have never been given the gift of a positive mind, and not too long ago you were wrapped up in that same empty box. Judge yourself first, and let the universe judge your actions.
Use this quote when you tell a friend your goals, and they look at you with skepticism.
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June 17, 2018
Blackbird – Chapter 2
As the unclouded sun poked through the pastel shades enclosing my bedroom the next morning, I could feel my phone abruptly vibrating on the bedside table. I started to tremble in my lucid dream the moment before my sunken eyes opened for the first time. I reached for my phone and quickly notice the time of 4:40 am. In disgust, I placed the phone back between the four corners of the table. I rolled over on my back to find the strange dream I felt right before my alarm had the nerve to call my name. I lied in bed and the events of the previous day returned to me in vivid detail. In an instant, my eyes opened, and my feet shifted out from under the wrinkled covers to find their usual place next to my bed.
Before I could even think of moving, I had two feet planted firmly on the floor. With my elbows on my knees and my semi-opened eyes pointed toward the mint green carpet I watched each bent finger interlock with one another. I don’t remember setting my alarm, but maybe subconsciously I touched a button I didn’t realize existed within the phone. My sweaty hands remained connected under my stubbly chin as yesterdays events continued to screen through my mind like a motion picture. I wasn’t just the lead character; I was also the screenwriter. I wasn’t just the screenwriter; I was also the director. The lights were projecting a camera unexplored without action. I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity lusting for sleep. I was determined to find an alternate stage I could explore.
[image error]I compelled myself down the carpeted staircase in a daze unsure of the direction of my unrehearsed script. I usually had a pretty thought out plan for each work day, so the uncertainty started to feel extremely uncomfortable. With this feeling gaining strength, I decided to conveniently reach for the remote and perceive the glow of comfort from the morning news. I searched all over my living room but couldn’t find where my wife had placed the remote from the night before. In frustration, I grabbed my coffee and sat on the couch to contemplate what I was going to do with my time. Complete silence surrounded me as the internal cross-examination commenced.
On one side of the courtroom stood the comfort and familiarity of my renovations and on the other end were uncertainty and fear of the unknown. All the evidence was there as I listened to the closing arguments. There was no jury deliberation in this case, but I had to make a verdict. I placed my coffee cup down on the wooden coaster as it made a booming sound across my living room. I decided that I needed more definitive answers to the questions forming in my mind. When I moved my right foot slightly, I could feel something move. I looked down and could see my daughter’s favorite book lying halfway under the couch. When I reached for the book to place it back on the shelf, I realized the answers might already exist. Maybe a bookstore would be the best place to start. With my first significant decision made I was ready to attack a new day.
As my left followed my right foot through the mechanical doorway of the large bookstore, I could feel my comfort zone disappear. Besides children’s books for my daughter, I hadn’t bought a book in over ten years. I stood frozen in front of the stacks of unread books like an unclothed manikin unable to move in any direction. There were two books I heard about the day before but had no idea how to locate them. I was probably only standing there for few a seconds but every second felt like an hour as I remained fixed to the cold tiles under my unresponsive feet. Looking for comfort, I notice a sports section and quickly moved towards the aisle not to draw any attention to the look of fear in my eyes.
I found myself picking up books at random with no real intention but to look like I belonged. When I noticed the self-help section, I knew that the books I was looking for were in my grasp. Like a child trying to go unnoticed as they dip their hand in the cookie jar, I looked around to see if anyone was watching. I knew what I craved was close at hand, but I didn’t want to get caught looking in the self-help section of a bookstore. What if someone had seen me. Like a thief in the night, I swooped in and quickly found the two books. How to Win Friends and Influence People and the Magic of Thinking Big were the first two books I bought that day; they wouldn’t be the last.
Over the next four days, I would not pick up a paintbrush or cut one piece of cedar. I would spend the remaining days of my vacation renovating the interior that genuinely needed the work. I spent the entire week reading and consuming everything and anything I could get my hands on around self-improvement and how thoughts and emotions can impact a person’s perception. From books, online lectures and inspirational speeches, I found ideas presented to me I never knew existed. Some of these ideas were from minds that existed hundreds of years before I was born. Others were from people living today.
A lot of the ideas were similar, but the deliveries were all unique. I was so hungry for information and new ideas that some days I would forget to eat. I started to get up an hour earlier to give thanks for all the great things that surrounded my life. I would put on my running shoes and run for ten minutes every morning. I would sit alone with my thoughts and try to figure out who I wanted to become. In less than a week I drastically changed my routine from jumping out of bed to the sound of an alarm clock to confidently placing two feet on the ground and controlling the start to my day.
As the weekend approached, I started to feel overwhelmed with all the thoughts and new ideas tossed at me so that Saturday I asked my daughter to pick any place she wanted to visit. Before I could imagine the destination, we had our bags packed for the zoo. To be honest, I had no desire to be around anyone that morning, and any other day I would have convinced her to do something closer to home. However, something inside told me to do whatever she asked. When we approached the entrance with our tickets in hand, the swarms of people started to recreate the restlessness I was looking to release.
Nowhere in this moment could I cherish the anticipation expanding in my daughter’s eyes. I suddenly realized it wasn’t about me, so I decided to turn my anxiety into excitement and discover a better part of myself. I could feel my body getting lighter with each step up the concrete corridor. My physical body moved in conjunction with my expanding mind. One hand was holding a cold steel rail, and the other held my daughter. As the automatic double-door slowly opened, I started to feel the freedom in the hands of the man I wanted to become.
When we walked through the doors hand in hand, a whole new world opened behind her eyes. She didn’t know which direction to take at first, but I assured her that this new playground was hers to explore. She took the lead as I walked silently behind her. It was such a freeing experience to let go of the pain and overwhelming anxiety that consumed my thoughts minutes before. All I could feel was love as I watched her innocence come to the surface. Her head was on a swivel as she started to notice the adventure and newness that surrounded her. As we entered upon the caged lion, she sprinted and placed two hands on the looking glass. She looked through in anticipation waiting to get a glimpse.
Her impatience soon became apparent as her attention shifted. The lion wasn’t where the others said he was resting and waiting for him wasn’t an option. She didn’t know I could see him leaning on the rocks between the uncut grass. I asked her to look again and pointed in his direction. Unimpressed with his lack of movement we moved further down the beaten path. As we continued to walk, she asked me why the lion didn’t want to play. I chuckled and struggled to provide her with an immediate response, so I told her the cage wasn’t big enough for him to run around. She looked up at me with confusion. Maybe they should let him out so he can play, she said. I laughed with a smile and continued to follow the others.
When we arrived at the next exhibit, I couldn’t stop thinking about the question my daughter unveiled. It was an innocent question asked by an inquisitive toddler but what if the cage didn’t exist. If I removed the walls how would the lion interact with his external environment? If he was born in that cage would he even know what it was to exist outside of those four walls? The perception of the pen started to change as my eyes shifted to the repetitive movement of the people walking around me in perfect placement.
All I could focus on was their eyes and what they were collectively thinking. I could see a look of total defeat in the eyes of one man right before I felt his resentment brush against my shoulder. It was the same look of discontent my daughter seen in the eyes of the tame lion, but no cage existed around this man. He was free to move in the direction of his choice. I started to see individual cages everywhere, and each one was custom built with its own double door.
With the day coming to an end, we made our way across the bridge over the shallow water beneath. I let my daughter run a little ahead, but I could see she was getting tired as her tiny hand extended gently against the scattered bushes. She finally found her way back to me and stretched each arm to the sky looking for comfort. Her weary eyes could barely stay open from the excitement of her new experiences. I gently grabbed her by her arms to move her closer to my chest as her limbs dangled almost separated from her body. I could feel the love of a father as my whole body warmed from the inside out. I couldn’t think, I could only feel.
I tried so hard to keep this visible emotion alive as we made our way to the parking lot. Then out of nowhere, I saw him. My energy shifted while my motion stopped. I could feel fear take over as I gasped for air. I didn’t see him coming in the distance nor did I anticipate his arrival. Right in front of me stood a blackbird. My eyes sunk back into my head and my feet felt broken as I attempted to move forward. I walked in wonder prepared for him to notice me moving in his direction. Before I could make a sound, he took flight. He started slow but worked to find the air underneath his outspread wings as the threatening clouds opened half way. He soared with so much freedom and grace that time and space seemed to disappear into nothingness.
On the drive home, I couldn’t stop thinking about the sustained flight of the blackbird as my daughter laid sound asleep in her car seat. She would only awake for a second or two when her head involuntarily moved from one side to the other. As I released my foot from the petal, I caught a glimpse of my eyes in the rear-view mirror. The cage that held the lion started to form around the reflection in my uneasy eyes. My foot shifted to the right, and I accelerated. I remembered the moment I decided to release the thoughts that restricted the love I felt for my daughter.
If I didn’t let go of the negative thoughts that consumed me, would I have been free to love my child unconditionally? I looked again in the rear-view mirror as the warm breeze entered through the back window where my daughter rested. I could feel the same sudden wind that lifted the blackbird brush up against my shoulders. The mirror was in the same position, but the reflection in my watchful eyes looked completely different. Another question was then presented in my mind that would alter the course of my life. Are you the caged lion or are you the blackbird?
I didn’t wake up Sunday morning to the sound of church bells. My only instinct was to get behind the wheel. Before my family even knew I was gone, I was walking to my truck one foot blindly following the other. As I walked down the consecutive steps, I could see the most beautiful sunrise over the horizon. It was so inviting I didn’t even check for cars as I stumbled across the street. My eyes couldn’t slide away from the midsummer sunrise as I rested my back alongside the passenger side door.
I am not sure how long I stared at this hypnotic scene, but I could feel a passion for words floating in the complementary colors surrounding the morning sky. Each word that came over the horizon uncovered the warmth of the sun. When I investigated the words the question that started my journey returned. If this is not who you want to be than who do you want to become? The visible sun moved its way behind the clouds, and I realized my passion for words might hold the key. I found the answer to my question within the colors of the sunrise. My pen was ready to release the blackbird, and I was going to write my first book.
Check back in next Sunday for Chapter 3 – Rediscovered Passion
Preview
Writing has always been a part of who I am. The first time I remember it surfacing was when I was an 18-year-old kid. Fresh out of high school I walked through my university campus trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. With so many unanswered questions and different paths, it became incredibly overwhelming at times. I wasn’t even sure who I was as a man, but I had to decide what I wanted to do for the next forty to fifty years. The competitive pressure that accompanied such a decision came with…
Read Chapter 3
June 13, 2018
Powerful Wishes
Have you ever dreamed of a genie who would appear in your darkest days in a haze of happenstance? A mystical figure who could provide you with three wishes that would change your life? It’s a pretty unfulfilling dream when you know the genie only exists in a children’s book. But how about if you believed in this genie with the innocence and conviction of an incipient child?
Imagine if you had access to a genie who could grant any wish you could create in your mind. It may be hard to imagine, but what if this was possible? You would spend weeks coming up with the perfect wish and spend months crafting its outcome. It would become the most important aspect of your life because you accepted its inevitability. If you had one wish in life, would you ask for more wishes or would you ask for exactly what you want? One dream surrounded with passion, purpose, and belief will release a power you thought only existed in a fairy tale.
Use this quote whenever you think your wishes will never be answered.
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