There is nothing like being physically present with people. No amount of snail mail or online social networking bonds us like a meal, a walk, or chat over a fire pit. Being seen requires proximity. But do we still know what it’s like to be seen?
Mark, a good friend and a UK expat living in the Middle East, came to visit me several years ago. After years of spending a week or so together at conferences, this was a rare treat to finally host him. The time we spent together on my backyard patio and at the local neighborhood pub was one of the joys of my life. After we enjoyed pizza and beer at the pub, I introduced my well-traveled friend to another American delicacy. Kentucky Bourbon. Mark schooled me on the differences between the simple taste of bourbon in comparison to the complexity of Scotch whiskey. But he made another comparison that I’ll never forget. “Rich, I don’t understand why Americans don’t talk with each other. You have two political parties. In my local pub, I might have three or four parties represented and yet we sip pints and enjoy each other.” Besides …
Sometimes life is like waiting for a medical diagnosis to arrive. Doctors ordered lab work, scans, and combed through your medical file. But delays keep you from knowing the verdict. You might ask, “Am I in danger from a life-altering disease?” When we face such a dilemma, I call it the in-between. Cambridge dictionary says in-between means “between two clear or accepted stages or states, and therefore difficult to describe or know exactly.” This space keeps us in limbo while all the forces of the universe work do their thing out of our view or control. Our next phase is imminent but unclear. Uncomfortable, we pace the floor, bite our nails, or lash out at a friend. Such a lack of certainty is nearly as painful as bad news from a doctor. We know we will be different on the other side. But to know what’s next, we sit in …
As a young person at music school, I lived 1800 miles from home. It seemed like a big leap, jumping from High School to accept a full scholarship to a music trade school. Another leap raised me to start as an 18-year-old sophomore. We are taught, especially in the arts, to be inspired and dream big. But to compose a symphony, we must start with a simple motif. The truth is this. It is in the small steps that creative genius arrives. When we make a leap, we either fall into the chasm or pay for it on the other side. You can’t expect to rise too fast. Like good bread making, the dough slowly rises in a little heat. Are you ready for the heat? I would play through several of Bach’s chorales every single day, among other habits. All of my efforts trained my ear and solidified my …
Subscribe to the audio blog on your favorite podcast app: Subscribe What’s in a face? Sherlock, our new puppy, expresses many faces. These let us know when he feels proud about going potty, unhappy when he’s hungry, and crazy when he’s pouncing and playful. The face of a puppy is irresistible, even through the eyes of a sleepless dog owner like me at three o’clock in the morning during a puppy potty break. Creativity, like my puppy, has distinct faces with corresponding emotions. Three come to mind. They are faces of curiosity, dissatisfaction, and joy. While we may not feel as cute as a puppy, when we express these three faces vulnerably and honestly, we attract others to our creation. On the journey to create, our face signals growth or retreat. The hope is this. We can look more like a puppy, enthused, awake, and ready for action. Need ideas? Be curious …