Tag: diy

distraction

I’m no theologian, and I’m certainly in no position to speak on matters of politics or social media. I have no formal education outside of highschool, and I can only speak from experience… but I do a lot of people watching, and I observe and analyze my own actions as frequently as I can, and I have undoubtedly seen some bizarre shit.

As I type this, I’m reminded of when I was in Calgary last week… I pulled into a very busy parking lot to meet someone at a restaurant, and about 50 feet in front of me I noticed 2 young girls, aged between 4 and 6, that had climbed into the trunk of a car and were attempting to close the trunk lid on themselves. While this was happening, the man I assume was their father was playing badminton with himself, in the parking lot. At the moment I was watching him, he lobbed his bright pink shuttlecock into a tree, and – again, the parking lot was full – started trying to knock the shuttlecock out of the tree by throwing his racket at it. By now, the children were securely trapped in the trunk, and I got out of my car and walked into the restaurant.

That story has no real bearing on anything, other than to state that I was early for my meeting, and that I obviously wasn’t staring at my phone, as this was far more entertaining.

I’ll often challenge myself not to look at my phone. Sometimes I lose, but that depends on the environment. In a recent pause for reflection in a dentist office waiting room, I listened to 2 clerks discuss the logistics of meeting a new online love interest one of them has, mentioning different work schedules as a challenge, among other things like dog stewardship and other hobbies as challenges. I’m not sure the experience enriched my life, but I was present and I think that’s something to be celebrated.

“Mindfulness” is a term we get to throw around a lot these days, but I’m reminiscent of a time when we didn’t have to put any emphasis on mindfulness, because we didn’t have a 24-hour casino, social hall, and strip-club in our pockets while we waited for someone to meet us.

We just waited.

And really, there’s nothing more mindful than sitting alone at a table with nothing but a cup of black coffee and your own thoughts to keep you company. We were mindful all the time… now we have the luxury of both tuning out and hitting the dopamine feeder-bar at any moment, to the point that some people do so while their waiting for a traffic light to turn green.

What’s more, is that although I am a slave to the social media as much as anyone else, I’ve started to (somewhat naturally) get my social media time dealt with in the morning before anyone wakes up. Sure, I get caught staring at my phone on occasion, but really nothing in my feed has changed from the early morning binge-session, so it’s pretty short-lived.

I’ve discovered that, although I am a staunch introvert, that I’d much rather connect with a human being or two in-person. I have no problem leaving my phone in my jacket pocket at this stage of life, and I’m thankful that my watch lets me know of certain correspondence because I really have no idea where my phone is half the time these days.

I don’t know if there’s anything to take from this… other than some affirmation that my droning on about being more present and in the moment over the past couple years seems to actually be taking root.

forty-two

Today I celebrate another revolution.

I don’t know how much I have to say about my birthday, really, other than to say that I feel younger and more vital than I did 10 years ago.

I’m happy to still be a vegan athlete and rock & roller, to have wonderful people around me, and to make the best music of my life. I’m more grateful, present, and productive than I have been at any point in my life so far and I don’t think I’ve capped out yet.

Forty-two.

I think I’ll give myself the morning off from blogging and go for a run.

Peace.

the news

It’s not a secret at this point, particularly if you read this blog with any regularity (thanks!), but I’ve made a few changes in my life. I’ve been fairly open about most of them but there are a few I don’t talk much about, mainly due to the facial expressions I receive when I do.

Like watching the news. In 2022 I stopped mainlining cable news in all of it’s forms because it was having a negative impact on my outlook. I think it was having a negative impact on everyone, really – but I can only make that decision for me. Between a global pandemic and a disgraced president, it’s safe to say that knowledge of the outside world was taking a toll. As it turns out, the really important stuff gets talked about openly enough that I can still call myself vaguely informed while maintaining some semblance of inner peace.

You watching the news is great. I actually count on it.
Me watching the news makes for shitty artistic output and a lack of focus on things I can control or improve.

If there’s a thing I learned during the pandemic news cycles, it’s that they broadcast the exception rather than the rule. That is to say; for example, that a 22-year-old athlete dying of Covid-19 was extremely uncommon, thereby making it newsworthy – which somehow gave everyone the idea that; although an outcome is extremely unlikely, it’s still cause for alarm. I’ll never say that a story like that isn’t tragic, but it’s a long way from preventing me from doing anything different in my life… though at the time I may not have known how to process it.

What I know now is that just because someone is saying something doesn’t mean that I need to allow it to alter my perception. At this point, a lot of people are saying a lot of things, and I’m really not too concerned about any of them. I’ve actually learned about a great number of things through shared memes on social media, which gives an interesting perspective, too.

For my life, though… I’m concerned with doing what’s right for myself, my family, and my community. I’m concerned with making rock & roll, and enriching the lives of people through that.

I’m just out here searching for the promised land.

reactive

There are many aspects of life that are beyond control. As much as I’d like to think that I am in control of; well, anything… I have to take a step back and realize that I am not, and probably never have been. There are only a few things I can claim as mine in a creative sense, and for me they are all songs (though if I’m writing about something, even that level of control is questionable).

The truth is that I am reacting to most things.

I accelerate when the light turns green. I book musical performances when I am available to do them. I apply for funding when funding is available. I reward exemplary behavior. I buy shoes when they’re on sale.

I cannot truthfully be held accountable for anything that happens so much as I can be held accountable for how I react to those situations…

The neighbor’s dog got out. My kid forgot her bus pass. The grocery store ran out of tempeh. My guitar amp is crackling. I’m stuck behind a train that’s going to make me late for work.

Yes – but what am I going to do about it?
How am I going to temper my reaction to scenarios in order to illicit the best (or least worst) result?
And – is there actually anything I can really do to positively affect the outcome?

Almost unanimously, the quick answers to all of these questions is ‘I don’t know’ but beyond the initial shock of being presented with any scenario – be it good or bad – the possibilities are as limitless as the confines of imagination.

If my neighbor’s pitbull escapes the fence, and I am walking on-stage in another city, I must do nothing because not only can I not affect change from my current location, I must also not allow this scenario to take over the task at-hand. I have to resign to entrust the situation with my neighbor’s dog to the people that are able to do something, and I can’t feel regret about what couldn’t be done… especially when it can and will and does get handled.

This is ultimately why I don’t drink anymore. My decision making prowess suffers a devastating downgrade when I do, whether it means saying inflammatory things under the guise of attempted humour, or allowing my judgement around what I eat to slide, deciding whether or not to drive… the list goes on, and it primarily goes on because when I was drinking, I was drinking much more frequently than I should have been.

I am still bound to say inflammatory things and compromise my own judgement, but I do it with a sober mind. So, when my actions and reactions are called into question, I can be held appropriately responsible for them. It might sound a bit fucked, but I take solace in the fact that every poor decision I’ve made in the past 17 months has been made with intention. I don’t hide behind weak, hazy excuses anymore, and I own every smart and dumb idea… which is hard, because I’m fairly bashful and humble about the good ideas, and when the bad ideas come rolling out, there’s no excuse for me to hide behind.

The reality of the situation is that I am doing my best. My path is a spiritual one, and the actions, or reactions, I take are in keeping with the curves in that path that I need to bend with in order to stay upright.

4 years

I’ve been vegan for 4 years as of yesterday.

I vacillate between “it’s the least anyone can do” and “it’s not for the faint of heart” constantly, but in the end it’s worth every piece of bacon I didn’t eat or dairy product I didn’t consume. As a matter of fact, those things are fucking gross.

It started as a step in a health journey that was already underway for a while; partly a physical health decision and partly a spiritual decision, but quickly the welfare of our fellow earthlings became a priority as well.

To me, it’s astonishing that the best diet for my heart, the best diet for my liver, the best diet for my brain, and the best diet for all aspects of my body – including athletic performance – is the same diet that is best for the planet, and is also the best diet for the wellbeing of our fellow earthlings, the animals.

In an amazingly short time we’ve gone from “wHeRe Do YoU gEt YoUr PrOtEiN?” to “I’m reluctant to try (or gave up on) veganism because I’m not an athlete.” Both statements are sad and ill-informed despite the fact that they are polar opposites.

If you feel like you need to make a change, give it a shot.

If you do, I recommend you try it for 21 days. You can do anything for 21 days, and you can eat anything for 21 days. I know that, because you can literally eat nothing for 21 days.

discipline

I’m occasionally complimented on my discipline, and while it’s true that a 4:30am wake-up call is not for the faint of heart (nor is the notion that I occasionally wake up before I alarm goes off) I have to say that waking up at 4:30 is the easy part.

I drink tea, eat oatmeal, breathe, and sit quietly before going to the gym for anywhere from a 60 – 120 minute body pummeling, all before the work day starts. I frequently get my 10,000 steps in before the rooster crows for most people and it feels really good to get that done. Aside from the caffeine in my black tea, I don’t consume alcohol or smoke anything, and work my damnedest at not eating too much sugar or fat through a given day.

A lot of what I do sucks… but whatever. I need rules.

I don’t like rules, but I need them. Me without rules is a nightmare, reverting back to the 300 lb. oaf with bad skin who bitched complained about how the world wasn’t fair… and well, at least I was right about that part – the world isn’t fair. So no, I don’t like rules. I just need ’em.

Chances are pretty good that you need rules, too… but that’s your journey. I’m not responsible for you journey. I am; however, responsible for my child’s journey for the next few years.

My child. My kid. My little girl, who I want to be safe and warm and comfortable. And while safe is certainly a priority for me, warm and comfortable are things that I don’t need to worry about these days. Warm and comfortable are terrible teachers, and my duty as a parent is to prepare my child for the big, ugly, mean world… and to greet that world with a kind heart.

Sound hard? It is.

What’s more is that I won’t be there to enforce the rules… so I have to trust her to do it. It can absolutely happen, but it’s not going to happen over night. People like to tell me that “we went through that and we came out alright” and when people say that I want to pound my fists on the desk and say: “For starters – no we didn’t have to deal with that. We didn’t have to deal with any of the garbage that kids have to deal with now. And secondly – no we didn’t turn out alright. We made a mess. I fucked around for 25 years and ended up in a recovery program in my 40’s.”

So let’s take another look at my discipline then. People throw words around like ‘extreme’ and ‘drastic.’ “It’s extreme to run for 2 hours straight” and “it’s extreme to weigh your food” – well… drastic times, friends… drastic times.

No, I won’t be holding my own child to my standard.
If she wants to level-up later on, that’s her call.
But some serious goal-setting, and the removal of distraction is a solid place to start. She’s a kid, so she’s still got her dreams intact unlike the majority of adults do these days. She can literally do anything she wants to.

But it has to start today. In this moment.
Tomorrow is a fictional place.

journeys

I feel like a really old teenager most of the time. In spite of the fucked nature of the planet and most of the people in it, I am often filled with wonder and optimism to a level that most people – including myself, once upon a time – would find irritating.

Fortunately, my demeanor is pretty low-key.

As promised, I have returned from a journey to Mexico, wherein I was invited as a guest to perform at a number of venues with my rock & roll band. I knew going in to this that it would be both difficult and life-changing and I have most certainly left a piece of mi corazon in the sand off the pacific coast. I’ve encountered both stunning beauty and heart-breaking poverty, and have seen what giving and being of service really looks like.

I will undoubtedly return, but before I do there are a few things I must take seriously before I do. The first of which is the language, which I can only describe as a poetic and flowing assemblance of syllables that I picked up as much of as I could at the time, but by my estimation I wasn’t speaking it so much as I was chewing it up and spitting it out in an effort to inquire about excluding the cheese and meat from a traditional dish. I’ve already taken steps to refresh what I (almost) learned in high-school Spanish 25 years ago and I look forward to gradually integrating that language into my life so that I can carry myself respectful of my surroundings when I return.

The second is an acknowledgement of privilege. I don’t mean the “I’m white and I don’t know what oppression is” brand of privilege that we like to both enjoy and be embarrassed of in Canada, so much as I mean that I have access to things that musicians there don’t – like guitar strings, cables, and microphone stands, and all manor of other things we take for granted. Suffice to say, a lot of people helped us out and made rock & roll possible when any number of hiccups could have completely derailed the tour. We were shown an amazing amount of grace and respect and as much as nobody is keeping a tally, I’m inclined to feel the need to reciprocate.

There are more lessons, of course, and as I settle back in to life in Canada I am reminded of the subtle differences, and these lessons are revealed to me. Previously, I’ve only ever known Mexico as a tourist in all-inclusive resorts with Caribbean white sand & blue water, and as much as I think people should enjoy those and experience that, I took part in the day-to-day goings on of what was “Real Mexico” as the Mexicans experience it and I have to say that I loved it regardless of it’s challenges.

I look forward to my much more prepared return, realizing of course that I must live here, in this moment, and I’m fortunate to know that this moment will lead to a moment when I am back there… in due time.