Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

The meditations of Marcus Aurelius is a piece of work I return to often. The wisdom he presents can be mined several times over and be useful at different stages of life.

This particular passage is taking on a new meaning for me now.

I’ve always been a future thinker, considering options ahead and coming trends. There’s also an anticipation of what I want the future to be and a hope of my expectations for it.

However, I’ve always just assumed my “future self” will have the solutions necessary for whatever would come my way, completely missing the point that my present self is my future self.

What I’m doing right now is who I’m eventually becoming.

If I’m happy with how I’ve presently “armed” myself, I’ll be happy with what the future will bring. It calls me to consider whether what I’m doing for myself at this time (physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually) is helpful.

There’s always more work to be done, but if I’m working at it, then there shouldn’t me much to worry about. After all, there’s very little each of us can control about the world, but we can take care of ourselves and those around us.

And if we do that, then the future will be bright and there really won’t be anything to worry about.

Beneath the surface of idle conversation and jot notes about the day, there is something that lurks.

It’s the skeleton in the closet, the demon in the basement and the shadow we don’t acknowledge. We know it’s there and we know at some point, it needs to be confronted, but the fear of facing it is too great.

The surface is safe.
It’s comfortable.
People enjoy meeting there.

Most importantly, it’s a great place to hide.

The depths are where things get chaotic… uncertain… frightening.

Few are willing to journey there, and even fewer are willing to stay, but we can’t conquer what’s there unless we’re willing to try.

It may not be pretty, but the results are life-changing.

There’s the ideal place in your mind. Then there’s the place you are right now.

While many would suggest taking the steps from here to there as a process, what we need to be careful of is the destination itself.

The ideal is just an idea. It’s a moving target that constantly shifts because it’s not where you are right now and since we’ve never been there, we don’t know how to envision it properly (which is why so many of us look towards others as a reference point).

Right now is where things need to happen.

This moment is where things need to work.

Instead of considering how to get to an ideal place, it might be better to ask how to create it with what you have right now.

It’s one that is played every day with no sight of a plateau. There is never a point where you “make it.”

Even those who have been winning it for years, decades even, still have to play every morning. It becomes easier with each victory as the rules slowly change in your favour each win, but it’s never automatic.

It’s still a battle that needs to be fought.

You can set the odds highly in your favour using two powerful levers: accountability and environment.

Get those two levers in place and the fight will seem manageable. Then, it’s up to you to win today…

then get up again tomorrow to win again.

It’s the smell of a fresh start and with it, the intentions of millions, all vying to make this year just a bit different for themselves. I am no exception, of course, as all things require constant re-evaluation and reconsideration.

However, to start things anew, I wanted to focus on evergreen ideas that work, are simple and just require action. What better way to begin that process than with Heinlein’s rules for writing.

Robert Heinlein was a prolific science fiction writer who had a great influence on the field. Back in his days as a pulp writer (a group whose work ethic and discipline I envy), he wrote an essay on the writing of speculative fiction. At the very end, he offered these five rules to follow if you wanted a successful career:

1. You must write.
2. You must finish what you start.
3. You must refrain from rewriting except to editorial order.
4. You must put it on the market.
5. You must keep it on the market until sold.

Five very simple rules, but so incredibly hard to follow. Yet, any writer who can faithfully follow them will find success. This is more in reference to those who are in it for decades rather than the one-hit wonder looking for accolades to stroke their ego.

I admit to being horrible with rules 2 and 4. Those have always been the bane of my writing existence, however, there’s never been a better time to follow these rules to heart. The plethora of tools and platforms out there are a dizzying array of marvel for the writer who just wants to sit, write and let technology automate the rest.

Am I concerned about discoverability?
Credibility?
Marketing?

Nah.

Those are nothing more than subjective classifications inside the mind of a person. After all, I’m sure we can all point to a wildly successful author who, in our minds, “is a horrible writer” who “writes crap.” From Austen, to Hemmingway, to today’s Nobel Prize winners in literature—someone always has something to critique.

Besides, I find writing fun.

I just need a kick in the pants to finish and put it out there.

Here’s to a different year. Happy 2021!

Well, we made it.

Another year gone and for once, a year we’re all happy to see go. There’s no point in recapping the year because once you start listing everything that happened, it gets wholly depressing.

However, if you dig for the blessings, you will definitely find many. It’s just been harder this year to see them in light of everything else.

Normally this day is a celebration of welcoming in the new year.

Perhaps today, you’ll join me instead in celebrating the ending of this one.

“What are your resolutions?”

Simplicity.

2020 proved that anything that can happen, will.

It showed us nothing is certain.

It showed us what we think we can rely upon may not be available.

It reminded us that we are humans and we’ve adapted to numerous shifts in our world and we will need to adapt to more.

It let us know there’s a lot of noise in the world and sometimes it’s best to just shut the door and ignore it, or filter it out.

Then it reminded us of the simple things like baking bread, playing board games, going for walks, firing up that imagination and getting in tune with who you are and what you really need.

My needs are so few:

good conversation, good books, simple writing tools and time with family.

Oh–and staying healthy.

Keeping it simple comes with incredible difficulty, but the pilgrimage towards it ends with a great reward. Best to start now.

Despite the number of people this year who increased (or discovered) their reading habits during quarantine, mine suffered.

My general focus was lost and it took quite some time to regain it. The usual pace of 90-110 books a year dropped to 70, which is still significant considering many consider 50 a prolific number.

However, a goal for next year is to simplify my processes and one of those is getting rid of vanity metrics. The number of books I read over the past few years has been less about enjoyment and more about volume, especially as an English teacher (leading by example).

While I still plan to complete Operation: ROL, I want to make sure it’s done while following my own advice to students:

Only read what interests you and challenges you.

Hence, my reading list for next year:

The fantasy series has been in my buffer for a while, the fiction titles were highly recommended, The Power Broker is one I promised to come back to and The Future of Text is a general interest.

There are only 13 books in that tower, but the goal is to keep me off the metric of number of books and re-introduce myself to focused, sustained reading for pleasure.

Also, I’ve also made the decision to stop doing book reviews.

While I do my best to keep each one positive, I fear they don’t actually serve a good purpose. A review, after all, is simply a personal opinion.

Nothing more.

If I didn’t like a book, it’s because I didn’t like it. Others may and I would be horrified if I ever deterred someone from reading something that would open a doorway into literature for them.

On the other end, liking a book is also a matter of personal tastes. I would be equally horrified if a positive review catapulted someone into reading something they hated.

But, and this is the biggest one, I’ve had many requests from authors and smaller publishers to do reviews. All for exposure, of course!

I learned my lesson about exposure dollars from being a magician and no one is going to take my time and energy to read a book I had no interest in, by somebody I don’t know, to write a review I may later regret.

That time could be better spent on other areas of life, especially those needing my attention at the moment.

The steps toward simplicity starts now.

There’s a lot I don’t understand about the world and I’m happy to admit my ignorance, with a willingness to understand… or at least not cast serious judgement.

As a writer, I understand language is mutable and the usage of its lexicon changes, adapts and evolves. Sometimes I can keep up and other times, I just sit back and hope what I’m missing is simply a trend that will go away.

I’ve already survived, “Gag me with a spoon,” and “All that and a bag of chips,” to name a few.

However, and pardon my quick step onto the old-person-ranting soapbox, there’s one word currently in use that strikes me as a failure of our culture:

“Adulting.”

Adulting: a verb to let the world know you are no longer a child because you did such strenuous adult things such as paying a bill or cleaning a stove all by yourself.

I’ve posted here before on the head-shaking reality that our expectations of society has become so low that mere competence is now seen as above-average. Even exceptional in some circumstances.

But I have to ask, and I hope there’s a historian out there who can share with me, at what point did we just give up on trying to raise children to be adults?

It scares me as a parent that I’m participating in this learned helplessness, understanding it was happening in my generation as well. However, if it took me until my twenties to figure out how to do a load of laundry, I wouldn’t be broadcasting this as an achievement—I’d actually be embarrassed.

Did we lose sight of timeless wisdom, with its accompanying practices and discipline, or are we witnessing a trending streak of online culture that presents the highest level of stagecraft for attention, “adulting” being one of them?

Maybe I’m just being crotchety?

I hope it’s not the latter as I do have high hopes for the future and see so much good in the young people today, but the question needs to be asked.

It was the combination of Christmas and finishing two books, The Case for God by Karen Armstrong and The Universal Christ by Richard Rohr (both of which I’ll review soon), that opened a deep well within my heart.

Both books pointed towards a truth I inherently knew, but couldn’t articulate. They pointed me towards something I felt, but never certain it was right.

A feeling, after all, is just that sometimes.

They pointed toward a deep sense of mystery about the universe and a joy in all things if we are willing to open our eyes to it.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the frustrations, turmoil and anger that exists in the world that we feel our only choices are to counter it with our own, give up completely or worse, attempt to control it. The irony of trying to order a universe that is already ordered and couldn’t give a damn what we think is lost on so many.

Yet, there is a beauty to all things… to all people… that we can never forget. It comes to us in moments and in whispers, always causing us to sit back and smile.

It’s a picture that cannot be captured on any device and a memory that no video will ever convey the feeling of at that time.

It’s the moment we realize this is what life is for if we would just open our eyes to it more. And the most wonderful part is everyone can access it.