It began with Y2K and ended with WTF!
The first decade of this new millenium was scarred by controversy and paranoia. It started with a fear that all the world's computers would suffer a sudden attack of binary dementia, resulting in a knappy dreadlock of economic chaos. Ironically (and ominously), ten years later that turbulence would indeed ensue, however due not to technological miscalculations, but rather human ignorance and immorality. Early in the decade, we--The United States of America--suffered the first terrorist attack on our home soil. Which led to eight years of controversial and misguided politics, summed up by a childish color scheme intended to symbolize the safety of our country, but which instead instilled a perpetual fear of orange construction paper in the general public. But I'll let the real journalists banter about the shitty politics and economics of the last decade. (At least we made some great technological leaps...thank you Steve Jobs!). Rather than trying to wax it intellectual like a New York Times columnist, I'd rather reflect on the 2000s from a personal perspective. This decade has taken me from the year of getting my driver's license--a true sign of adolescent independence--to the year of getting laid off--a true sign of professional dependence. It started with a new years party on the beach, in which my friend Sam spent the latter part of the night romping around the campfire butt-naked and hitting on our friend's mom. And it ended with my family going out to a cozy sushi dinner followed by games and a movie. This year, the last year of the decade, was the first when I didn't partake in some elaborate scheme of debaucherous libation. And it was kind of nice. There is no underlying moral to this story. Just an interesting observation. This decade saw me graduate from high school, college, and my first post-scholastic job (assuming getting laid off counts as 'graduating' of course :)). I lived in Miami for one year, my family moved houses four or five times, and I traveled to eight foreign countries (Brazil, Mexico, The British Virgin Islands, Israel, Malaysia, Cambodia, Laos and Thailand twice). I saw a meteor shower, swam with lemon sharks and skipped across the Grand Canyon. I trekked the ancient city of Angkor, camped with Buddhist monks and slept in a hammock out at sea. I fractured a few bones and got into some trouble. I lost a few friends, but made a few more. I laughed. I cried. I danced. I ate. I crossed the finish line. On a personal level, the last decade was pretty incredible. (I wish I could say the same for our country as a whole). And I would like to thank my friends and family for making it all possible. I hope the next ten years bring just as much learning and adventure, if not more. And I hope the same for you. Happy 2010!
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Knowledge is power.
The above statement is one I have subscribed to for a long time. I love to learn and discover new things. But one thing I recently discovered is that this tenet--knowledge is power--is terminologically deceiving. Power is not gained by consuming copious amounts of information. It's earned by rubbing synapses and neurons together in exploration of new thought. We have limited space to store 'information' in our cranial closets, but the mind has a limitless capacity for conjecture. The world's most renowned thinkers are not revered for their ability to horde vast amounts of knowledge under their afros, but for their ability to conjure insightful theories out of thin air. So while knowledge is tasty, wisdom is the true power protein. Who cares if you can regurgitate what Joe Schmo said yesterday? The real sign of genius is what novel idea you come up with today. In his article, Why Wise Leaders Don't Know Too Much, Jeff Stibel exclaims, "Decisions are destroyed by over-analysis. The brain is not intelligent because of the sheer volume of data it can ingest, but for the way it can quickly discern patters--and then guess the rest...In other words, wisdom comes from your gut." Mr. Stibel goes on to make another great point: "People often become victims of the 'knowledge trap' or 'analysis paralysis,' thinking they need to weigh every bit of information against all possible outcomes. Those people rarely make it very far. Those who avoid these traps--who realize they'll never have all the answers no matter how much knowledge they gather--are often the ones who succeed." We've all done it. We've all been victims of the knowledge trap. Whether it was second guessing yourself on a test in high school or calling your bookie to change a bet just before kickoff; we've all, at times, over-analyzed instead of trusting our gut. But this is not my point. What I'm saying is that having all the answers doesn't mean you have all the power. In fact, the answers are arguably irrelevant. Too often, we seek answers without asking how or why we got them. What if your answers are the wrong answers? It's when we stop questioning--ourselves; our surroundings; our leaders--that we become complacent and stagnant. Wisdom is the real power. Which stems from wonder and exploration. And exploration is a process. A personal process of discovery. It's more about seeking truths than finding answers. There is no bright light at the end of the tunnel because the tunnel has no end. Learning arises from questions. And questions arise from doubt. The objective is not to accumulate a warehouse of knowledge by studying what others already know, but to create a wealth of wisdom by trusting our own intuitions and suppositions. In his book, The Pleasure of Finding Things Out, renowned physicist Richard Feynman puts it this way, "...I can live with doubt and uncertainty and not knowing. I think it's much more interesting to live not knowing than to have the answers which might be wrong...In order to make progress, one must leave the door to the unknown ajar...it is our responsibility not to say 'this is a solution to it all.' Because we will be chained then to the limits of our present imagination." The greatest discoveries in history were made by doubting common knowledge, not conceding to it. So keep studying the ways of the world, but take time to step back and analyze, scrutinize and dissect what you learn. Understand it. Then expand it. We can't expect old ways of thinking to take us anywhere new. Knowledge is important. But it's just an understanding of what has already happened or is already known. Real brilliance--wisdom--is attained when we take knowledge and knead it; roll it; twist it like a pretzel until we end up with a doughnut. I'm happy to announce that commercial America is beginning to see the merit in my outlook on life. A world once ruled by straight-edged hacks chiseled out of old world conservatism now stares straight into the soul of a smiling, ebullient rebellion.
Anyone who hasn't been in a coma for the last year and a half knows that Wall Street's cold-handed stranglehold on the American business system has cramped up like a bad case of carpal tunnel. The slick custom-tailored suits aren't fooling anyone anymore. And frankly, those navy blue two piece jump suits are just plain old boring. Of course the complete lack of credibility hasn't helped these purveyors of old school commerce, but the once highly touted lifestyle of hundred-hour weeks and high-rise lofts isn't as glamorous to today's young professionals as it once was. Today's generation of fresh-faced CEOs and entrepreneurs have a new fetish. Our social hierarchy hinges less on the title nailed to your door or the Van Gogh hanging from your wall. It's now all about what you do, where you go, and who you're taking with you. Success is measured by life experiences. I mean this in two ways. First, pertaining to my opening statement, a new wave of successful businesspeople are building commercial dynasties by creating addictive experiences for their consumers. Secondly, these new-age business studs care more about enjoying and sharing their money than showing it off in their personal avant-garde downtown condo of a museum. Richard Branson epitomizes the latter. He's the 21st century Howard Hughes. The antithesis to Gordon Gecko. Instead of "collecting" his wealth on his walls, he spends it on insanely awesome extravaganzas. More importantly, he offers his hard-earned money as an investment for the future. Not just his, but ours. His newest and most ambitious venture, Virgin Galactic, is a perfect example. I don't personally know Richard, but I bet if you ask him why he's investing in Virgin Galactic, he'll tell you it's for the fun of the game. The experience of going to the moon and taking your wife with you. (And who knows what sort of profound affect it will have on the future of intergalactic travel. Only time and space will tell.) Offer your customer an awesome experience, and they'll gladly give you their money. It sounds simple, but it's true. Katalyst Media (Ashton Kutcher's brainchild) is a great example of a company that understands the value of tapping into customer experience. Their philosophy is simple: entertain people. Offer someone an experience worth sharing, and they will become your ambassador. In the always on-tap world we now live in, sharing information and experiences with friends is easier than sweating in a hot yoga studio. A little entertainment goes a long way. Just look at icanhascheezburger.com. This unassuming website went from underground blog sensation to multimillion dollar business in the blink of an eye. And what's they're business model? Make people laugh for just five seconds a day. Seriously. One of the most successful online businesses right now is based on the idea of making someone smile. Which brings me back to my original point. I'm happy to announce that commercial America is beginning to capitalize on my reason for living...the philosophy of fun. With adventurous people like Richard Branson pioneering the way, and success stories like that of icanhascheezburger.com, my inner fun meter can't help but smile at the changing of the guard in our country. There's still hope after all. Today is the perfect day to discuss this topic. Why? Because thick, fluffy, furry snowflakes are falling outside my window like a stampede of white paint. If that doesn't sound impressive, know that I currently live in Houston, where instead of snow, heat and humidity rule supreme.
So anyway, I'm sitting by the fireplace in my black Thai silk pajama pants and khaki kangaroo leather moccasins, ogling the snow cone explosion outside my window while watching the 2010 World Cup draw on ESPN2 (USA! USA! USA!). With my silver MacBook perched atop my lap, I have complete access to the outside world. Yet here I sit in the cozy comfort of my own home. It's on days like this that I'm grateful for the fiberoptic gods who bestow upon me the freedom to freelance. Having just been laid off from my job at an ad agency a few months ago (due to our country's economic woes), this freelance lifestyle is still new to me. And honestly a bit of a struggle, once again partly due to the economic recession. But I'm making do and making progress. It's a fickle lifestyle, not knowing if work will come as consistently as the Houston humidity, or as erratically as a Texas snow flurry. But that's how you play the game, and I'm fighting to become the starting point guard. I recently read an article about a man named Brett Schklar. Brett was a successful VP of some important corporation, when at the age of just 31, he suffered a heart attack. Stress from being overworked got the best of Brett's heart. Thus he devised a new business philosophy, which has proven hugely successful by the way (his current consulting firm has grown 961% since 2006). Brett's new philosophy goes as follows: "The way to grow is to do what you love to do. Invest in it. Build it. Be willing to take risks. Keep ethics and the best interests of the people around you in mind. And don't always focus on the money." In another article, from the Harvard Business Review, author Steven DeMaio portrays the peace he finds in his new freelance lifestyle. At one point, Steven eloquently states, "My mental image of work/life balance is no longer one of a two-sided weight scale, but rather of a painter's palette with a sensible mix of colors." Well said, Steven. While freelancing can be equally, if not more time consuming than the standard work schedule, I look forward to the sensible work/life balance it offers. If I have to work from midnight 'till 2am in order to bask in the rare snow parade currently dancing down the street outside my window, then so be it. I'd rather work twelve hours a day on my own schedule than eight hours shackled to a cubicle. Sidenote: Read my last post about everything happening for a reason, then check out this article about Winston Churchill. Do you think Winston could have become the great leader that he was if it weren't for his failure years earlier? Everything happens for a reason. It's how you react that makes you who you are. Will you be great like Winston? Bill Gates. The Beatles. Canadian hockey players. Jewish immigrant lawyers.
What do they all have in common? According to Malcolm Gladwell, as stated in his best selling book, Outliers, they were all conditioned to succeed through a series of unforeseen and uncontrollable events. Rather than explaining reasons for this success in a limp attempt to summarize Mr. Gladwell's work, I offer you my own boiled down, 5-word interpretation of why: Everything happens for a reason. I've heard this phrase tossed around lightly like a Nerf football on Thanksgiving morning. Some flip it for short gains in trivial conversations; others chunk it deep as a hail mary to profound questions they'd rather not ponder. I, however, have a devout respect for the saying and do not pass it off so lightly. First, let's clarify something. Everything happens for a reason is not a tenet for idle poodles woofing it as an excuse for their flea-infested laziness. It is not an alternative to taking action. It does not mean that "everything will be okay." In fact, many times pain and suffering are necessary slices to the whole pie. After all, failure is the surest way to succeed. (The smartest people in the world are those able to learn from others' failures, saving themselves the time and trouble of repeating it. But I digress.). Everything happens for a reason is an axiom of traced logic. It typically starts -- as in most, if not all of Gladwell's case studies -- with an uncontrollable event. Why such an inciting incident occurs is not up to us. But the beauty of this principle lies in how we react. There are infinite choices we make on a daily basis; one leading to another, compounding from a single snowflake into a two-ton snowball cascading down the mountainside. These choices we make, rolled on top of the opportunities we tumble past every day...they are the ingredients that stir our life's soup. The thing is, you never realize what you're sipping until it's already become leftovers. But unless you can predict the future, that's just how the soup drips. The fun part is tracing your logic. Recounting your steps. Reliving your experiences. Discovering how one thing lead to another, and why you landed where you did. If you like where you're standing; nice landing. If not; figure out why. Because if you landed awkwardly, it's most likely for a reason. And that reason is to live and learn. Heal and grow. Move on. You might have twisted an ankle or skinned your knee on the way down, but at least you're still standing. Revise and optimize. Catch your breath long enough to inhale a moment of enlightenment, make you next decision, then keep tumbling down that mountain. Too often, people get sucker-punched by the feel-good story of Lucky Louise and her felicitous rise to fame. But luck is just the lime in Louise's pad thai. True, it's a crucial ingredient to her success. But there's more to it. Everything happens for a reason. What's yours? A year or so ago, my brother and I attended a business seminar at The Wizard Academy -- a fantastical refuge for non-traditional thought. At some point during the day's activities, one of the guest speakers slapped a transparency on the overhead projector. It was a list of 40 words, of which he told us to rank our top three in order of personal value (for the sake of this article, only the top choice is relevant). After scrolling down the list with x-ray eyes, a single word buried amongst its brethren instantly popped off the page. Now I must say, all 40 choices were viable options in my opinion. But this one alphabetic offspring stood out like a blond bimbo at a gothic bar. I could have opted for any of the 40 words, but I decided to let my instincts select the winner. So without hesitation, I instantly jotted down this three-letter beauty on my yellow notepad. I then glanced over my brother's shoulder to see what he had written down. At the sight of his selection, I instantly felt a little shamed. He had chosen, family. "What kind of asshole am I?" I thought. "Why didn't I choose family. It seems to be the obvious answer in hindsight. Do I not love my kin?" After showing Drew my three-lettered friend, he immediately flashed a grin as to say, "Duh, of course you would choose that!" I guess his reassuring beam soothed my guilty conscience. I mean, of course I love my family. But isn't that the predictable answer? I've never been one to succumb to the status quo. Joking around and acting a fool is simply what I do. My philosophy on life is this: "If you ain't laughing, you ain't living." So it makes perfect sense, then, that the word I valued most was, fun. It is in honor of this word -- the practice of finding joy in the world -- that I would like to commend Volkswagen and DDB Stockholm for their Fun Theory campaign. The premise of said campaign is to take ordinarily overlooked facets of life and put a happy spin on them. I'm not sure about the consumer-persuading, car-slanging, profit-turning bottom-line benefits of the campaign (time will tell), but it's definitely my favorite campaign from a creative standpoint...simply for its inspiring, fun-loving spin on everyday life. This world is way too screwed up to always take it seriously. So the next time you're frustrated and upset, frizzled and frazzled, or just feeling a little lethargic, remember to put some pep in your step, smile, laugh and have some fun. It is commonly said that the key to happiness is living in the now. Too often, we spend our waking moments dreaming and planning for a future just beyond our fingertips.
Tom Hennen, in his poem, The Life of a Day, says, “We examine each day before us with barely a glance and say, ‘no, this isn’t one I’ve been looking for,’ and wait in a bored sort of way for the next, when we are convinced, our lives will start for real.” In one sentence, Tom has encapsulated man's primal psychological flaw. In a lifelong scavenger hunt for the key to happiness, we look past the beauty smiling at us round every corner. Instead of stopping to smile back, we drive full speed ahead toward a destination unknown, hoping and praying that when we get there, we will instantly know that this is the place; the place we've always dreamed of, where happiness stares you in the face without blinking. How naive. Not to say I'm immune to this sentiment. But like everyone else who ponders it, I realize how absurd we are to saunter through life with our dreams perpetually set on the horizon. Spend all your time grasping for things just out of reach, and you'll forget to enjoy that which you already hold. However, my question is this: If you have already stumbled upon that majestic place where happiness massages your soul 24 hours a day, how do you return once again to find beauty in the banality of reality? The irony is that we have all unlocked the key to happiness at one point or another in our lives. The problem is that key only opens the door for a fleeting moment. The pure, uncut happiness we all seek is ephemeral. The question now, is what to do with the key until we find another door? |
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