Before you think this is another post about food, and perhaps my insatiable desire to eat more of it, it’s the backdrop to something much bigger.

The title of this post seems like I’ve misstated the popular phrase, “You are what you eat.”

However, consuming is not limited to the dinner table and what’s on it.

Instead, consider what your mind consumes all day long. From the moment you wake up, your senses are taking in the world. In my case, it’s the pitter-patter of little feet as my child comes to the bedside to let us know she’s awake.

After that point, I do my best to prevent the influx of information before I’ve had time to center myself.

I know, from experience, to jump online to check email, read the news or scroll through social media feeds is instantly setting my mind up to being poisoned. It’ll get addicted to the drama, the traumatic and the emotional triggers.

It puts the mind in a place of submission, a state of exhaustion and yet, it’ll still hunger for more.

Should you be aware of what’s happening in the world?

Yes, of course… in the same way a person should delight in a dessert every so often.

Let it be the finish to something more satisfying and done in small quantities.

Feed your senses something good and it’ll manifest to the rest of your day.

One of the most powerful lessons I learned about World Religions is the prevalence of food at religious festivals. In other words, all festivals are associated with or revolve around food… or a certain type of food.

And the festivals that stand out do so because there is no food, or there’s a fast associated with it.

In a world that is hyper-obsessed with calorie counting and viewing food as nothing more than fuel, we forget the rich memories associated with it. If you’re alive today, it’s because you’ve eaten–probably a number of times.

Food is more than just a carbon based construct. It’s an entire sociological gathering that is directly tied to our culture.

We all have a memory of a certain dish, meal, or holiday with a feast associated with it. We might even look forward to the holiday (or dread it) for that reason.

What makes food special though, is the community aspect of it.

It’s the sitting down together and sharing a meal that stands out because you don’t break bread with an enemy. If someone is sitting at your table, chances are they have been invited to sit and their chair is symbolic as an acceptance in your life.

They are being welcomed.

Consider the high school cafeteria. How meaningful is it when the outcast student is invited to sit with a group?

Or how about the workplace when the usual cliques break apart and join at one table?

Now, they may ruin that chance. They may never be invited back, or their time there might be turbulent, but the food on the table was the invitation to build that relationship.

Breaking bread is more than the fueling of our bodies. It’s the fueling of our souls.

It’s the most excruciatingly vulnerable thing to admit. It represents a moment of weakness completely exposed for others to see and–possibly even a more embarrassing point–know your faults.

The act of asking for help is to say you cannot do it yourself.
You can’t handle it.
It’s beyond you.

And yet, when you consider what you just did, it’s an act of incredible revelation.

You were willing to see your own shortcomings, to recognize your limitations and make a difficult situation better. It’s a self-awareness brought on by a battle that humility won against your ego.

Needing help isn’t admitting you are a weak person, but that you are strong enough to ask for what you need.

A year ago today, my son got his first library card.

It was a proud moment for me to take him into a building we’ve become accustomed to and walk away with a card to call his own. He was pretty damn excited to use it right away.

Books are a huge deal in my household. My wife and I are avid readers and even if my children don’t become books with legs as we did, they will know the value of reading.

The library was the cornerstone for me growing up because it provided an opportunity to read, explore and discover. My parents would often drop me off at a location and let me be for an afternoon while I journeyed into the pages of magic, strategies for Monopoly and mystery adventures.

It was truly a place to wander and I was free to discover something new without an algorithm to suggest what I may like.

It cultivated curiosity.
It encouraged solitude.
It taught focus.

Before I ever graduated from any of my degree programs or high school, I first graduated from the library.

The best part is there was no set curriculum. No tests. No assignments.

And yet, I learned.

My home growing up is legendary for not having any lights on. From an early age, my parents trained us to turn off the lights the second they’re no longer in use (coincidentally, they always yelled at us for doing things in the dark).

After her first few visits, my wife often joked we must use sonar to get around the house.

It didn’t occur to me that we were so used to every corner, that we no longer needed to turn the lights on to get anywhere or get anything. We just did it all in the dark.

Which can be said for any person who intimately knows their home or their craft.

It’s the professional chef who knows their ingredients so well, they can tell what the dish is going to taste like without ever needing a recipe. They adjust as they go.

It’s the mechanic who can just listen to a car and know what’s wrong.

It’s the writer who doesn’t outline, plan or edit because they know how to make their words sing.

It’s the musician who plays their instrument as an extension of themselves.

We look upon them as real magicians, a wonder to see and appreciate. And yet, we live in a world that continues to look for efficiencies, lower costs and outsourced labour… whether that labour is elsewhere on the planet or technological.

The beauty of the master at work is replaced by the faster imitation that conforms to technical specs.

And yet, the efficiencies can only go so far.

“They don’t make them like they used to,” is now being replaced by, “I’m making them like they used to.”

There’s a resurgence in the skills we were losing and pride being taken at pursuing the craft. There’s a longing for the soul that goes into the work.

Our failed attempt at having the illusion of knowledge about everything is slowly being taken back with the reality of having knowledge about something.

We are using the platforms to share our mentorship with everyone. And for that reason, we are living in the best time to develop sonar for something we love.

I always wondered what the world looked like during one of the revolution periods of thinking.

The Enlightenment, for instance, would’ve been a wonder to observe. Not from a historical perspective, but from a lived experience on the ground. First hand.

To the people, it must’ve been utterly chaotic.

Ideologies were challenged, political structures were being reworked, borders were changing, new economies emerged and empires were toppling. From an average person’s point of view, I’m sure this would’ve been overwhelming.

And yet, here we are almost two hundred years later and it seems we’re going through the same process.

We always wonder what the future is going to look like and now we get a chance to see it being made firsthand. The difference is we will have ample evidence for future historians to sift through in order to determine what the experience was like.

That’s not to say we should just sit back and enjoy the ride.

An upheaval of the everyday ways of life comes at a great cost. It’s uncomfortable, painful and is filled with nothing but uncertainty.

We can go into it kicking and screaming, or we can do the unbelievably hard work of shaping it.

A few years ago, I wrote a manuscript about building rapport with students. It was something that was on my heart and while I hesitated to release it, I did show it to my good friend Christopher Poulsen (whom I co-wrote Transforming the Heart with many moons ago).

He loved it and told me there were so many talking points in it, we should make a podcast to discuss.

Since then, I’ve polished the manuscript and feel ready to release it (feeling more confident about it now). However, Chris and I revisited our idea to start a podcast and decided to test run recording an episode.

It was rough, but the content was good.

So we recorded another… then another… then brought on guests and now we’re committed.

Originally, our idea was to just focus on teaching Religion, but it’s been branching out into something even more:

The story of teaching as it happens.

At this point, we have guests lined up until the end of October, but more importantly, we finally launched episode one in a podcast we’re calling…

The Unapologists Podcast

New episodes are set to release every Wednesday and barring a few technical points we’re working through right now, they should be pushed out to every platform.

It’s an exciting new venture for me. In the same vein starting my first blog post was rough around the edges and hankering to find its voice, this podcast is feeling the same way.

As the episodes go on, you’ll hear the difference in how comfortable Chris and I get with each other and the people we bring on.

More importantly, you’ll hear some incredible wisdom from some remarkable people.

Check it out and stay tuned for the launch of my next book.

Have you ever tried imitating a comedian, word for word, as if it was your own act, only to have it fall on complacent stares?

Ever wonder why it failed so miserably?

The simple reason is comedy is excruciatingly tough and comedians use an exorbitant amount of subtle techniques that go unnoticed by non-comedians. Also, it’s not your act. It’s their act, with their voice and the circumstances of that audience at that time in that place dictated how they told their jokes.

Comedians spend their first few years trying not to fail. Then they spend a lifetime tweaking, writing, rewriting and practicing every bit they do. Jerry Seinfeld and Larry David literally closed the door to the office and spent their entire time just writing material for Seinfeld. They ignored calls, meetings and everything else just to focus on writing the best show they could.

Starting to get the picture?

Authenticity is not a formula that can be emulated or applied. It’s a living organism with many moving parts that requires your full attention for it to be successful.

The best analogy I can give is a couple who is dating. The most authentic part of the relationship begins when the two begin to see the faults in each other and call them out. This is actually a relief for both because it means they can start being more of who they are without fear of rejection from the other person.

It also means they can take ownership of the relationship, themselves and their responsibilities to each other. Only when that happens does the relationship start to develop depth, where the highs are much higher and the lows are more painful. The two are putting themselves out there for each other.

Words are important, but actions are loud.

Your actions will always dictate whether the words you’re saying are true.

Envy is that feeling we can never quite shake off.

But we have this horrible affliction in our society to envy people for the most materialistic things and passing trends. It’s really just a marketing campaign to work against our insecurities.

We envy people for their possessions, their wealth, their physical appearance (I fall victim to this when I see friends of mine who still have full heads of hair) and their power.

It’s important to note that all power is fleeting. Just open any history book and all you get are stories of people gaining and losing power.

The rest is all just stuff. It comes, it goes and eventually our desires shift to other tastes, making it a moot point to even envy it in the first place.

What we should really envy is joy.

We need to envy the joy that other people have and desire that for ourselves. We need to latch onto it and do everything we can to figure out what is making that way so we can grasp it.

The great part about envying the joy of another person is joy is not limited to class, race, gender or geography. Literally every person on the planet, regardless of their circumstances, has the potential to be joyful.

Find someone in your circumstance who has true joy in their heart. Let them be your guide and stop at nothing to feel the way they do.

When you do so, then no matter what circumstance you find yourself in, you will be joyful… and others will envy you.