Coffee Novelist

Use what you have in your garden

Coffee Novelist

October 26, 2021

A recipe for writing?

I have two chive plants in my herb garden. I have a sage, oregano and thyme which all have returned this spring. And, for you climate changes doubters out there, my rosemary plant came back this spring. I have had a rosemary plant every summer for ten years and each winter it has died. This year, I checked it and saw new growth. It has survived the mild winter in the Midwest for the first time ever.

It has occurred to me that my advocacy of the use of “using your mind garden to produce your own unique story” may ultimately come down to money. What doesn’t? I find it works not to outsource your creativity, process, inspiration, validation in order to to write, in order to find your way as a writer. I primarily use my own mind, which is free and always open. It works for me. It may or may not work for you. Although, It may work for me because I have had not a choice but to make it work.

It is?

Over the course of my writing, starting just out of college in the mid 80’s until now, I have not been able to spend a ton on money on it. I could have, but my kids needed to eat. So, I think out of pure necessity I had to devise my own belief system, which aligned to life as a whole. I did not have the time or money to take seminars, workshops or fly overseas to retreats. I ain’t pissed. If fact, the years that I am referring to when I was raising a family produced a human being who has something worthwhile to share. I did occasionally get back to writing short stories and always kept a journal, but was nowhere close to being able to plan a couple hours a day “writing”.

The green stuff is always a part of it

How do my chives figure into all that? Well, they are green, like US dollars. The lack of which left me recently without the ability to hire an editor, which had temporarily halted my 5 novels in 5 years plan. A plan that I hope ultimately produces some more green stuff, and I don’t mean chives. For the first time since my wondering post college years, I had time to write. Unfortunately, I felt stuck due to lack of funds and direction. Then it occurred to me to practice what I preach. I had written a series of short stories called Altonstreet and Philpatrick. Like the herbs in my garden, I could use them for free. So I headed to my garden and got to work.

Here is where I brilliantly tie it all together.

I wanted to make pesto earlier this week, partly to feed 2 of those adult children I mentioned. I could not afford to pay to go to a weekend writing seminar i.e. buy pine nuts. To make matter worse, I had no way to get to Italy and be inspired at the grave of a dead Italian poet, i.e. my basil wasn’t ready. So, I found a recipe for pesto using chives and toasted walnuts i.e. I began a short story using my old characters, Altonstreet and Philpatrick. The chives were already in my garden and the walnuts were way, way cheaper than pine nuts. I used what was at hand, what my mind garden had ready and waiting.

The pesto with chives and walnuts was quite good. The short story is titled “Altonstreet & Philpatrick receive a letter” and made me laugh out loud a couple time, which is good because that was my intent with the story. So, I took my own advice, fed my mind, body and spirit on the cheap. And this years’ garden is just getting started!

10,000 hours later

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October 19, 2021

‘I’m now finished with “Back outta the World” and feel good about it. I don’t really mean I feel great about the stuff on the pages but rather how it got there. Plus, I had the thought towards the end that I really learned how to write – why then and there?- About 90 pages in? It was more than a decision to move away from the passive voice of Jay. Maybe I hit my 10,000 hours? Who knows? Just noted it for the record”

Journal entry from Sunday March 29, 2020 5:59 a.m.

No cap and gown

So there you have it. No diploma, certificate, accreditation, grade or outside validation in any way shape or form. In fact as I searched the couple journals I thought this entry originated from, I told myself it would sound more meaningful when I did find it and read it. The entry is fairly mundane. ‘Just the facts, mam” .

There is no entry from the previous days or weeks that hinted or foreshadowed the above entry. I read it again just now and doubt if you all will be convinced all that much that I believe every syllable, that I believe that the writing I have been doing since that entry on “Back outta the World”- BotW- has been something that I see as writing filled with opportunities to make the novel more interesting, engaging, intriguing and entertaining for the readers. And, just as important to me, that the writing is staying as true to my unique self as my dental records would be in case of a grisly accident involving, perhaps, a flaming sword.

As it turned out, the key words in the entry are not even words. Words are the thing in writing. Numbers are the thing in math. Yet, on the momentous occasion of my realization that I feel like I learned how to write, specifically novels, it is the numbers that tell the story. Oh well, too late for a career change.

10,000 hours later

The 10,000 reference is from Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000 hours of “deliberate practice” theory. It can get complicated but means to me simply, one must put in the time.

The second number and the more personal and equally significant to me, is the year 2020. I wrote the first draft, or version, of BotW during the early 90’s while living in Chicago and working at an early Starbucks. This is one of the story lines that make up my first published novel, Tripio. More math will let one come to the conclusion that BotW was started before Tripio and will be published after. So, am I saying that I published Tripio AFTER learning how to write? Well, yes, in a way. But only because I had to. “Those are the facts, mam,”

A writing formula Time + Intention + novels

Sorry if this is starting to sound like a word problem in math. Yet, I wrote and published Tripio because of BotW. There could be not be one without the other -as books- in the journey of my life. I had to write Tripio to get to my 10,000 hours, to put in the time, to get back to Back outta the World, started over 20 years earlier. Make no mistake, Tripio is certainly worth buying and reading- it is about as honest a book a one will find out there- but I was still learning to write while writing it.

Again, where is the proof, the diploma, the certificate that proves that? There aint’ one. But after putting in the time, I know it to be true, I know the truth about BotW. Which to me make both books, and any future ones, worth writing and reading. Put in the intentional time (my phrase, not Malcolm’s) and when the time comes, you and only you will know when your own books will tell the truth back to you.

10,000 hours and counting

More facts, mam. This is a repost from early 2020. I am currently working to transform a series of short stories entitled Altonstreet and Philpatrick into a novel. In these stories I see more opportunity for improvement. Since this original post I have added a thousand hours or so to the 10,000 noted earlier. That must mean A & P is going to be better than both Tripio and Botw. I am not sure. It’s going to be up to you to do the math when you read them.

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“Time + intention = novel“

Three reasons why I write

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October 12, 2021

“What else was in it for me? Just to say I had done it? To look back in 20 years and then understand why I did it? That made as much sense as anything to me standing in the kitchen of a stranger’s house in Louisville.”

– The excerpt above is Jay talking to himself in “Back outta the World.”

Three reasons why I write

#1 I am having a great time looking back at me. Through the revising process, I am getting a clearer understanding of who I was, and who I am now. And perhaps most importantly, who I want to become. I do believe the newer, current me is writing a better Back outta the World than the one I wrote two decades ago. To put it simply, I see so many opportunities to improve. I see them just sitting there in the older version saying ‘change me, enliven me, describe me”. For example, it now drives me crazy that I wrote so much in the passive voice back then. This can be quite a humbling process, which in turn creates a nice vantage point to realize that we as people are never a finished product. And never will be. That wouldn’t be any fun now would it?

It is fun

#2 It is fun! My writing process is not a gut wrenching process. I do not spend hours searching for the perfect word. If I still used paper to write, I wouldn’t fill a waste basket with rolled up pages of crumpled pages of paper. I am not saying it easy. Therefore, I think it would be more accurate to say that, at least for me, one cannot be taught to write, but you can learn how to write.

I go at writing by first clearing, cleansing and energizing my mind. I begin to understand and notice my subconscious mind in order to trust it to supply me with what I need when I do sit down to write. It usually works. In this way, my time actually at the keyboard is productive. I am usually “in the zone”, having done most of my writing during yoga, mediation, on the cross-trainer, blogging or even while driving, cutting the grass or journaling.

My motivation

#3 I do for it me, me, me! I most likely will never sell enough books to be recognized by Amazon or whoever. Whatever. I not doing this for that type of validation as such. The validation I seek cannot be measured by any instrument created by humankind. Sounds a bit pretentious, eh? Well, it ain’t. I have come believe that writing my fictions and blog helps me see myself. These writings are a mirror to look closely at who I am. You are reading words, I see a reflection. Totally selfish. I can look at myself all day and not be bored. You may be bored already. If so, there is always Twitter.

To clarify, I am writing to this mirror in order to produce a better reflection for me to look at. Yes, and I when leave the house and head into the world to share me, it will with the intention that I have a little bit better version to give to you all. I do this with the belief that most of the good in this world in done via small, nearly invisible acts of kindness or grace, performed on a daily basis. So, there you go.

“Why do you write?”, he felt compelled to ask

Funk off, external validation

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October 5, 2021

Funk off

A funny thing happened to me yesterday on the way to do my grocery shopping. This was after I went back inside to find my cloth face mask. As I drove off with my mask in the car I began singing aloud to an old Funk Compilation CD that I have been listening to recently. Take a moment now to say a gratitude that this is not a podcast.

But seriously folks… Just before I left for the store I had checked my Amazon sales graph for Tripio. The arrow pointed downwards with a vengeance. Hmmm. Was this confirmation that Tripio sucks? Sure, if I let it be. Maybe it was also confirmation that I should keep up my writing. You are curious why I should keep it up exactly when the arrow points down? The very arrow that bestows approval and validation on Tripio and by extension me, is telling me to quit? I would answer that I was telling external validation to funk off.

Who says?

I was filled with song because my reaction to the arrow was confirmation of what I always claim; that I ain’t in this writing for money, fame and rankings. So, funk off, external validation. I’m not doing this for you. To clarify, sleeping in for me that means getting up at 6:30 a.m. That night’s rest had a significant part in boosting my spirits. I had nothing urgent to pull me out of bed to the keyboard.

When I was in the process of revising Back outta the World for the last time I would be pulled out of bed by the need to get it finished. Sometimes that meant my eyes would open as early as 4 a.m. My physical body was pissed, but got over it soon after I had my morning doppio. (never fear-I have an espresso machine at home). My emotional, spiritual and mental bodies were in charge then. Now with Back outta the World done, I decided to give myself a break. After some contemplation, I decided to halt the search for an editor and take a break from longer form writing. Well, I am still blogging and working on a short story or two. My four bodies had come to an agreement and I was able to sleep in.

Funk me

So here I was, singing along to “You dropped a bomb on me” on the way to the store yesterday morning. My sense of self, my intention for all this writing had been confirmed. I have said all along that writing is merely one of the results of a well-tended Mind Garden. Of course, maintaining that garden is the hard part in all of this. The writing itself isn’t. My horrid singing validated my process and that intention. The mind garden was fertilized, watered and ready for the coming day. I am as good as my word. Which is pretty important if you are a writer.

If you are lucky to have read this post you may be thinking that you have read it before. It is indeed a repost. I have improved it here and there. Recently, my own mind garden was trampled. It has been beautifully restored and I am up early these days working on another writing project. The working title is “Altonstreet & Philpatrick”. The adventures of this pair of aspiring yet clueless writers is getting me up early these days. I am glad that it is.

“May I help who’s next?”

What is a tripio?

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September 29, 2021

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A troubling thing has been happening since I published my historical fiction novel, Tripio. I have been getting asked quite a bit the question: “What is a tripio?” This question was first asked me at a class on memoir writing at the Indiana Writers Center. No one in the class with me knew what a tripio was. It hadn’t even occurred to me. I knew what a tripio was since the fall of 1990 when I started at Starbucks. I had worked at a couple independent, hippy coffee houses even before that, so the word was part of my personal vocabulary so long I assumed everyone knew what one was. Also creating my false sense of security was the fact that there are thousands upon thousands of Starbucks on this earth. Surely, everyone who’s visited a Starbucks has ordered a tripio…right?

one definition of a tripio

I’ll take that as a “no.” In Tripio, the book, Jay describes his tripio, the drink, as “my crutch, my momentum and my solace”. I’m sure that helped clear things up. If it didn’t, I will define a tripio as three shots of espresso which is usually consumed immediately after it is brewed into pre-warmed cup. It is then often consumed with sugar or whatever one wants to add. In Tripio, the book, Jay always drinks his tripios over lots of ice in a plastic cup.

Jay needs the caffeine from the three shots and the ice keeps the drink alive and refreshing as he goes about his work day. He needs the caffeine for opening shifts at Starbucks. He needs the caffeine for the closing shifts at Starbucks. Starbucks was unknown then and in the process of becoming the global entity we all know today. That didn’t happen by having the baristas and managers in the trenches stand around. Jay needed lots of tripios.

a second definition of a tripio

In the end, I did not choose to title the book Tripio based solely on the fact that the main character drank lots of triple espressos over ice. There are three plot lines that intertwine and collaborate as the novel goes along. Jay has three life options facing him as he goes about his increasingly complicated days. After reading Tripio, you will be asked to decide if the option he chose was the correct one for him. Or better yet, you have put yourself in Jay’s place. Even better you recognize a situation in your life that you can compare to Jay’s and consider that situation in new context.

In order to read the novel you will first have to buy it. Before you do that, you will examine the cover and see that subtitle includes a partial definition of the word tripio. Which brings me back around to the class I mentioned above. The instructor of that class helped me in crafting the subtitle. Thankfully, he was one other person in the room that day who knew what a tripio was. And now, I hope you do as well.

“May I help who’s next?”

Comparative literature-Books on Starbucks

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September 29, 2021

Tripio a novel: 3 Shots: Starbucks Millionaire, Novelist, or Father?

How Starbucks Saved My Life: A Son of Privilege Learns to Live Like Everyone Else by [Michael Gill]

A book I wrote, a book I am reading

This year Starbucks is celebrating it’s 50th anniversary. I thought it was time to mark the occasion by reading books on Starbucks. I have written and published an historical fiction novel called Tripio, set at a Chicago Starbucks in 1992. Firstly, my comparative study of Starbucks literature focused on the books in green apron and behind the people. Secondly, this rules out the books written by Howard Shultz, Howard Behar or any of the dozens of books concerned with how Starbucks succeeded financially since 1971. As a result I did not include the endless fictional stories either set at a Starbucks, or have a scene or two take place in one of the locations.

Coffee industry legend Kevin Knox described Tripio as “much needed contrast by showing that the lifeblood of the company in those formative years was the idealism, sacrifice and hard work of the baristas.” I went looking for told from the perspective of the green apron wearing barista. “My search came across Michael Gates Gill’s account called How Starbucks save my life. Even if his book is auto biographical, I feel the comparison holds up because Tripio is at the very least, emotionally autobiographical. In Tripio and How, the characters are wearing the green apron (and a red apron in my case) and are primarily baristas doing work behind the counter.

Here are my thoughts after reading Chapter one of How Starbucks saved my life. Stayed tuned for more of my comparative study of Starbucks literature.

HOW THEY ARE THE SAME, HOW THEY ARE DIFFERENT

Michael Gates Gill was a customer before he got the job. I interviewed at Starbucks, never having seen one before then.

He had 3 girls and 1 boy. I have 1 girl and 3 boys. He provided money, I provided time.
Tom Hanks nearly made How Starbucks saved my life into a movie. Tom Hanks credits the Wright State University theatre department for helping him get started on his illustrious career. I went to Wright State University a and some characters in Tripio are based on WSU theatre department grads.
His work life took him to Starbucks in desperation. I went to Starbucks full of aspirations (to be a writer).
He drank lattes. I drank Tripios, of course.
Michael Gates Gill liked the sound of his name. I don’t like the sound of mine.
He didn’t like yoga. I do.
His Starbucks was in New York, mine in Chicago
M.G.G. was married and getting divorced. Jay was single and becoming a parent.
M.G.G was asked if he’d like a job. Jay was asked if he loved coffee.
M.G.G. was “an old fart’ looking for direction in his life. Jay was young man looking for direction in his life.
I started keeping the journals that became Tripio when I worked at Starbucks in 1990. Gill and Gotham Books published How in 2007.

I found point eleven worth considering. I often joke that when I worked at Starbucks, it was still a coffee company. If anyone has a title to add to this “comparative study of Starbucks fiction, please let me know. Thanks!

**There is no judgment here, just detached observation**

Ten wisdoms for a dollar

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September 21, 2021

Ten wisdoms for a dollar

Several months ago I went to book sale. It was the last day of the 3 day event. In keeping with book sale tradition the last day is usually called bag day or box of books day. Bring a box or bag, cram it with books and pay 5 bucks for the lot. That’s me. I have hard time resisting a deal. I think I passed this on to my young adult children, most obviously to my daughter. Five summers ago, can it be that long ago?- we were in Chicago. I was doing research -can I really call it that?- on my historical fiction novel, Tripio, set in Chicago and she was taking in the big city. We found ourselves at a book sale at Chicago Public Library on bag day. I had a great time, as one does, searching through the tables and titles. My daughter did too, getting about two dozen titles of all shapes and sizes. I joked that we need a U-Haul instead of a taxi to get back to the hotel.

A book bags me

At the Chicago book event, I was looking for certain titles and favorite authors. This most recent bag day, I was not. Only, a book found me anyway. You see, at this event I was crawling out of the wreckage of a bad time in my life -who hasn’t had such a streak of hours, days, weeks, months? I went to this book fair to re-acquaint myself with people and the ability to go where I wanted, when I wanted.

However, I did not have a mental list of authors or books. I was in search of a book or books, but was not relying on my eyes. So my book found me -sounds strange doesn’t it? (Is this device annoying you yet?). The book in question was Essential Spirituality. It was a dollar and the book simply and obviously put itself in my hands. It turns out that it was only book I bought on this bag day. But it has provided me with enough thought, value and wisdom utility to be worth a bag of books on its own.

Over the last few months I have read from Essential Spirituality every morning. Below are some of my favorite wisdoms, from many the sources found within Essential Spirituality. I have taken the liberty to walk among them, going where I want, when I want. Have fun!

The ten wisdoms for free

The mind and body are so closely linked that to change on is to change the other.
To understand is to forgive. Before you attempt this on other folk, try it on yourself. I am getting there.
Fear thrives in darkness and ignorance.
A person attempting to grow beyond the usual conventional level cannot expect much support from society
Pleasure seeking inevitably produces suffering, both for yourself and others. I can vouch for this one
We do not usually fear reality, what is actually happening, but rather our own thoughts and fantasies about what may happen. This is why Insurance companies can afford to bombard us with ads
The superior person is the master of of things, the small person is their slave.
Cognitive Incapacitation. My acquaintances who tune to Fox news tell me it best watched when the mind has entered this state
The only true wisdom lives far from mankind. Time for me to take a walk in the woods
There are as many ways to God as there are created souls. Too beautiful for comment

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What along strange Tripio its been

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September 15, 2021

“This can’t be happening.”

It was nearly dinner time when the realization struck me. There would be no coffee available tomorrow morning.

But, indeed it was true. You see, I was visiting my family in Ohio and the house I was spending the night in was being renovated. Not in a half ass sense either. The specific room in question being the kitchen. A kitchen was not there right now. All that remained of the old kitchen were four walls, a floor and electrical outlets. Outlets that could not be used to fire up a coffee maker the next day as the power was shut off. Luckily and conveniently, pizza was on the way for dinner.

Of course there was a Starbucks near the house. Perhaps I had forgotten it was there. Or I had been so accustomed to seeing them everywhere these days that one no longer made an impression. A Starbucks was just part of the backdrop of an everyday life in this country. No matter. I had remembered it was nearby and would still be there in the morning. So I ate my pizza when it arrived, relaxed to some football on TV and later drifted off to sleep in the arms of a siren.

A short trip that began a long trip

Since I posses a morning chronotype, I was up by 5 the next day. As soon as I woke, I checked my phone to confirm the location and hours of that nearby Starbucks. I wrote in my journal for about 20 minutes before heading for my ritual, emotionally comforting morning coffee. I arrived a few minutes after six, and was not the first customer. The three baristas had the coffee brewed, the music on and were ready to rock. Since I am old coffee guy from way back, I requested a Vente Italian and blueberry scone. You cannot beat the classics. I left a tip- Once a barista, always a barista- and headed for the door.

See the source image

But I stopped still right there. It had hit me. My cup and scone secured, I had let my self relax now. I was able to appreciate and recognize my surrounding again, now that I had a full coffee cup in hand. I breathed in that unique aroma of a just opened Starbucks location. In that instant I was standing in the vestibule of my Starbucks on Diversey in Chicago on a September morning in 1993.

They say that sense is the most powerful of all senses when it comes to triggering memory. A previous experience with scent memory took me back to the time when I was helping my second oldest son begin his freshman year at Purdue. He had been on campus several times over the years and even stayed in the dorms as part of a science camps. But this was different. Today he would begin living on campus. This meant being away from everything that was routine and comfortable.

As we finished up, my son was washing his hands in the dorm bathroom down the hall. I had washed mine just before him. As he took his turn, he said to himself more than to me, “The soap smells the same.” In those few words, I heard the realization in his voice that he was at Purdue now, on his own and living in this dorm. The scent memory from previous times at Purdue had activated in him the understanding that I would be driving back home without him.

Advice is cheap

Yes, I was a barista at one time. It was for four years at Starbucks in Chicago from 1990-1994. That includes a heck of a lot of mornings when I was there to open the store. I had not been back to a Starbucks at opening time until this very morning. It had about 25 years. Starbucks and I have each changed a great deal since we parted ways. Starbucks, the company, has become a world wide success in most every measurable way. If I had stayed employed there, the numbers tell me, I could be pretty well off financially now.

The scent induced memory paralysis kept me standing in the vestibule. I saw my younger self in place of one the three baristas behind the counter. I wanted to shout across the store and tell my younger self to stay in that green apron and one day you will be rich. Induced by scent memory, I had the chance to reclaim the one and only chance in my life I was ever going to have of having a lot of money to my name! I believed I had exorcised this euphorically recalled landscape of my life when I wrote Tripio. Not quite though. Or, I would not have been standing in the vestibule of one of the 25,000 Starbucks on the planet, thinking of yelling advice to my younger self.

Be where your coffee is

Like my son’s experience on college move in day, the scent memory made my years as a young man behind at Starbucks become real. I was back behind that counter tied into the green apron and perhaps checking to see if we had enough flat to-go lids. Just then the door opened behind me and the scent memory trance was broken. Damn, I was enjoyed the trip back in time. Couldn’t this customer have picked one of the other 24,999 Starbucks? Oh well, I stepped out of his way and back into the present moment.

I had enjoyed my scent memory journey back in time. Luckily, there was a better place for all that recall and it is entitled Tripio. The urge to communicate some of my wisdom to my younger self had passed. Just as well, knowing him, he would not have listened anyway. Which is also just as well. Wisdom can’t be absorbed by the ears. It has to earned by experience, processed by the mind and paid for my one’s emotions. So, my younger self will just have to buy book and see how it ends.

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May I help who’s next?

ACTE!

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August 24, 2021

Sure, the search engines will pester me about the title to this post. I know that they will because it is not ladled to their always open mouths to be poured in drip by drip. They want me to write for your expectations. They want me to create this blog based on what you have told them what you will read. Ah, hell no. Never fear though. Because if you have managed to find this post, it will be worth reading in spite of the self censoring web-crawlers. So, go ahead. You’ve earned it.

We humans have a heard time changing. We have spent most of our collective civilizations attempting to make things easier on ourselves. All in all, we have achieved truly amazing things over the centuries. And, I’m all for it. If not for the sweat equity of those before me I would not be able to brew the coffee I must have in the morning, fire up the laptop and in about half an hour climb into my car and drive to work.

Makes me wonder

But I wonder from time to time if things are too easy, for me at least. I think this thought and type the words fully realizing how “problematic” such a proposition can be. I am lucky enough to have a life which allows the time to think such things. Two things to say now: I’ve already paid my respects to those before me in the paragraph above. Second, it seems to me that in this day and age, it would be problematic to someone somewhere if I announced on my blog that it was time for me to clip my toenails. So, on we go.

I think what I am getting at is that in the search for ease and convenience we may be losing the ability to appreciate. We can buy anything from our phone on our buttocks and have it sent to us, still on our buttocks some time later. It literally makes me wonder if something is being lost…

(A moment or two or thoughtful contemplation is now taking place)

Time’s up! I don’t personally think “easier is better” creates a frame of mind that can sustain appreciation for said gain. It just ain’t how humans work.

Don’t let me ruin your day. Instead, I have a simple solution to apply. It will help one to appreciate the endeavor, purchase or activity to be undertaken. Here goes. The endeavor purchase or activity will be appreciated more deeply, if it costs you your attention, concentration, time and effort. One must ACTE in order to appreciate. The “e” is pronounced at the whim of the reader. I’m not forcing the issue.

ACTE before you act

I will illustrate, clarify and enhance ACTE by using my own life as an example. My youngest son is now off to a Big Ten university to undertake his college education. He is following in the footsteps of his three older siblings, who all worked hard to graduate from college. My contribution in helping them along the way required a hell of a lot of each letter.

A – Attention- reading to them, reading to them, reading to them.

C – Concentration- mostly in the form of listening, observing and engaging.

T – Time- Spending the time with them that I had, but more importantly spending time with them that I didn’t have.

E – Effort- Spending energy in ever changing forms with, on and for them.

In my example the reward and appreciation was a long time in coming. However, the brilliant utility inherent in ACTE can take any form. Use it at the grocery store, car wash or peep show. It will enhance or even create your appreciation of what you’ve bought experienced or created because anything too easy simply won’t, because it can’t. It’s the human condition, people.

Nothing worthwhile ever, ever, ever comes easy. If it does, or seems to, then you maintain the option not to ACTE before you act, while pronouncing the “e” or not.

ACTE before you act, or post

Commodity me?

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August 17, 2021

Commodity me?

This is nothing more than a hobby, a pastime, a vitally absorbing creative interest. That is what it was when I started and what I need it be, what it must be. That is all. I am free to do anything with this post, with anything I write in a longer format because the end, the goal is the process. The vitally absorbing creative interest appears out here but the true destination is the mind. Going outward to find the inward, in other wards. Words, I mean.

My mind is clear, energized and productive at 7:01 on this Sunday morning. I moved my laptop out onto my porch in order to channel the wisdom of the breeze and the trees. I am managing my mental energy now, not the clock, not what I have to do later. The morning breeze and swaying trees don’t care what’s next. That is what I am trying to capture here. Can you feel it?

The Great “We”

Is there a value for anyone else in this post but me? In a way, I hope not. Because, I am writing this for me. If writing a post keeps my mind, body and soul calm, clear and energized then I have done my share. I have done my part for the great “we”, contributed to the world of interbeing. In writing this I am working to contribute to that connecting web we all share. It is the only sustainable way to make this world a better place anyway. Will it sell books and generate clicks and comments. I hope so, if they are coming from the breeze and the trees.

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