It was my second year of studying Theology that my faith broke.

As a knowledge seeker, someone obsessed with learning (probably why teaching seems to be a good fit), the material was breaking me down. Every preconceived notion I held was shattered.

For me, faith was over.

And then it slowly rebuilt, but in a more mature way. It felt more solid, despite being chaotic in the way it was coming back together.

Then during my graduate work, a fellow student remarked the goal of a good school of Religion is to break you down and force you to rebuild. I had never thought about it that way.

Since that time, my own religious understanding has broken and rebuilt several times.

Each time it comes back stronger, but less certain. In fact, it’s the uncertainty itself that makes it strong… and the only reason it keeps breaking is because of a belief that certainty is even needed.

It seems to be the reason why all of us break at some point: the things we know for sure are the very things that come undone.

But when they do, it’s a grand moment to rebuild them again—because they come back in a grand way.

Normally at this time of year, I am gearing up for the holidays and reflecting on this past year in order to make a pathway for the next. However, given this year was seriously derailed by an unprecedented number of factors, I’ve had to really collect myself.

My writing here has been sparse as I considered the multitude of what has happened and what that will mean for me going forward. I’m still working on it, but I’ve managed to crystalize a few ideas.

First, the most important thing is to count my blessings. My wife and I are still working, our family is safe and we have absolutely everything we need… and a whole lot more. It became too easy to continuously think about what we’re lacking, especially as areas went into lockdown (and are still going into lockdown), instead of recognizing the amount of excess in our lives.

Second is to never take anything for granted. Even the occasional frequent Ikea breakfast runs my family took on the weekends are being missed.

Third is to avoid the noise. My intake of social media and news hit its apex during the summer when I recognized only a few minutes a day on each platform would provide more than enough information to catch me up on the days proceedings. Anything more was just a waste of time.

Fourth is to be thankful for the many technological advancements. Being able to video chat with my family and friends, have supplies delivered to my door at the push of a button and working remotely from home went beyond mere conveniences. It signified a complete shift in culture—one that happened in a mere twenty years.

Finally, my friend Andrew advocates for a keyword each new year; a mantra to focus on in all that you do. This year has pointed me to the one I will be using for 2021: Simplicity.

I will speak more to it as we get closer to the countdown, but if the world will not reflect and remake itself in response to all that has happened, I will.

Before I fall asleep at night, my brain likes to remind me of all my past inequities.

That stupid thing I did ten years ago…
The dumb comment I made as a teenager…
A bad decision as a kid…
The head shaking moments during college/university…

They all come back to haunt me in one form or another, pelting me with regret. Even though time has evaporated those moments into a blip of the cosmic memory, they still exist as a present pain.

It’s impossible to just ‘move on’ from those moments in life when we’re still holding on to them. They lock us in a prison cell of emotion, which then surface in other ways. The grip on these moments need to be released and that can only be done when there’s a willingness to forgive.

Forgive yourself.

It’s simple, but not easy.

It must be learned and it must be practiced.

Then, it might be possible to forgive others as well.

If there’s one thing I emphasize with my students, it’s that I care about how they think.

While they may be used to getting picked apart for their grammar, spelling or whether or not they conformed their work to the exact response the teacher wanted, I want none of it.

Grammar can be fixed.
Spelling can be checked.

Taking the opportunity to think… that’s difficult. Thinking requires mental stamina, focus and a willingness to explore aimlessly.

This is why I’m always wary of work that is highly polished, but doesn’t actually do anything. In other words—shallow work that looks pretty.

It’s the story written with perfect grammar where you don’t care what happens and have no vested interest in any of the characters.

It’s the priest who gives a homily that is highly entertaining, but lacks any depth. Just one amusing anecdote after another, leaving you empty.

It’s the shiny new product with the cool label that does exactly what another product you own does, but without the frills.

It’s the breadcrumb aisle with a thousand different options temporarily stunning you into choice paralysis… until you realize it’s just breadcrumbs.

It’s the person dressed in the formal attire with the polished look who presents well, but is nothing more than shallow thinker punctuated with one amusing story on repeat.

The polish should always come after the hard work is done, not before.

Otherwise, you’re just putting lipstick on a pig. And no matter what shade or colour you use, it still can’t hide the fact it’s still a pig.

As noted in my review earlier of The Practice by Seth Godin, there were a few points I felt challenging and required some extra thought. In particular, there’s one section that deals with the idea of authenticity.

To take a quote:

Your audience doesn’t want your authentic voice. They want your consistent voice.

He goes on further to elaborate that you would not care if your surgeon is feeling sad the day you go in. You still want them to perform your operation at their level of professionalism that you expect.

In many ways, I agree with what he is saying as it’s often been said in my reflections on being a performer, the audience does not care. They paid to see a show (with money or their time) and while they may empathize with tragedies that occurred, they still expect a show.

However, this conversation needs to be carried further because your most consistent voice is your authentic one. One should never turn off their professionalism. But in those days where life punches you in the gut, the way to be authentic and still perform the required duties is to autopilot the voice you developed.

Voice also being synonymous with action, care, attitude and ethic.

Simply, you cannot hide who you are (unless, of course, acting is your life work) and people can always figure out when they’re not getting the most authentic version of you.

In order to be that consistent professional, though, you must first be consistent because authenticity is less about what you say and more about who you are and what you do.

If Mr. Godin ever reads this, I would love to continue the conversation with him.

It’s a good one worth having.

I have some questions for you, and I want some straight answers.

Where were you when I created the earth?
Tell me, since you know so much!

Job 38:4, The Message translation

The Bible is a complicated spiritual book (or compilation of books) to understand. It’s often been wielded to justify many actions and attitudes, often to the detriment of others.

Yet, if you mine its pages for wisdom that is applicable today, you will find many passages (in their proper context) that provide insight. For me, the book of Job is one I keep returning to for its reminder of our inflated sense of knowledge and self-importance.

To give context, the book of Job chronicles the life of a devoted and righteous man who is suddenly struck with disaster. All his kids suddenly die, his fortune is stripped from him and he is afflicted with disease. He literally went from riches to rags with only a few friends to console him.

Yet, during this horrible time, he never curses God, but monologues endlessly on why he is suddenly being punished. God is silent the whole time Job is speaking, then finally speaks to him in the end.

Thus giving rise to my absolute favourite line:

Where were you when I created the earth?

It reminds me of this line from Harlan Ellison on working with directors—”Where the f*** were you when the page was blank?”

Which then reminds me of the endless critics in our world who are happy to tell you what is wrong and how to fix it. Yet, when you ask them to do the hard work, the real work, of actually creating, it is met with silence.

We always have more to learn in life, but one should never trust a person who self-assuredly thinks they have anything figured out.

After all, where were they when the world was created?

Once again, I am fortunate to celebrate another year of life.

In looking back upon the previous years when I wrote my birthday posts, there is a common thread of gratitude and forward thinking. A lot of plans for the future, really.

However, when I look back upon this year and consider the many possible outcomes that could have been, I have so much to be thankful for in my life.

Every day, I have been counting my blessings as I am in the best position I’ve ever been in my life. While there’s always more to achieve, I honestly could not ask for anything more.

But… there is something I do want…

I want to hear from you.

This year has been a wild one and we’ve all handled it differently, but I’m tired of the doom and gloom of the news cycle. The fact you are reading this tells me you’re still here to tell the tale and there’s something for you to be thankful for right now.

Would you be willing to send me an email (vito@vitomichienzi.com) to let me know?

Consider it a gift.

My greatest and memorable spiritual mentor once told me the secret to any creative endeavour, or accomplishing any major task on a timeline, is to go for a daily walk.

Originally, this advice was meant as a guide for writing an academic thesis, but the daily walk seemed to be at the crux of everything (his initial advice was eventually confirmed in later studies). While I could appreciate the idea, I had to consider how this was applicable in the frigid cold of Canada.

After all, he was from California and then spent time in Italy to complete his doctorate, which—if you look on any map—are worlds apart in their climate versus Ottawa.

However, after several years of letting that idea seed and sprout in the back of my mind, I’ve come to a realization of how applicable that is wherever you are.

Even in the dead of winter, heading outside in the winter sun and walking still feeds the soul. The initial resistance to bundle up and face potential temperatures that could freeze your eyelids shut are quickly outweighed a few minutes into the stroll.

Regardless of how cold it really was, you still feel good when returning and for having gone out. Not to mention there’s an extra layer of meditation if you’re attuned to the snow crunching beneath your boots along the way.

The winter sun is also a reminder there’s hope for a warmer season. You just have to be patient.

In the meantime, it will still shower you with feel good endorphins. So no matter what time of year, or place you’re in, a walk will always help.

One image that everybody needs to see is this one from Drew Dernavich—most known for his cartoons in the New Yorker:

It’s inspiring because when I look at my own work, I notice the ratio is slowly working its way up. There are maybe twenty posts on this site that consistently perform and resonate with people (based on web stats) and the rest fall to the wayside.

I’m sure in another thousand posts, I’ll have a few more hit home.

Then I look at my other published work and realize I’ve only dropped a pebble in an ocean.

Thousands of attempts, few successes.

Yet, it’s only those successes that people see and then wonder how you can be so good at your craft.

Rejection isn’t the end. It’s the biggest part of the process.

Seriously, it’s okay.

This is a reality I’ve faced numerous times over numerous issues and now, I become excited at the prospect.

Sure, there’s the ego hit, which is 99% of the problem, but the benefits are incredible:

You can be open to new ideas.
You can build a new foundation.
You can stop living a lie.
You can set the course of a new future.

Consider how far we’ve come with the scientific method, which forms its basis on challenging assumptions.

Think about the societal progress and human rights advancements we’ve created because someone was finally willing to admit it might need changing.

Then there’s the organizational structures, power hierarchies and every husband, ever, about almost any issue.

All morphed, changed, adapted and grew because of the admission of being wrong along the way.

We want to be right.
And sometimes we are in a small way.
And sometimes things sound right.
Even in a small way.

But even in those moments, we must still be open and willing to admit they might need re-examining.

Because if we don’t, all we become are a society of stubborn people, certain about ideas that will never evolve.