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.

The most monumental invention of the last five hundred years is the printing press.

Thanks to the innovations provided by Gutenberg (and yes, I know the Chinese and Koreans had a similar methodology centuries before), access to information became readily available to the masses. This resulted in an increase in literacy, a wave of critical thinking and the beginning of a period we refer to as the enlightenment.

The big shift was getting people to read. Doing so got them thinking for themselves, thereby being able to challenge, or support, what was being said on the pulpit.

And yet, here we are, five hundred years later rejecting the printed word in lieu of the pulpit of media sound bites and online videos.

How often do I hear, “I don’t like reading,” “I don’t read,” or “I hate reading?” and yet…

We are in an age where access to information is even easier and cheaper, yet we ignore it.

We’ve mistakenly made the assumption that the ability to access information is the same as knowing it,
knowing what to do with it,
being able to process it.

Our ability to think and learn is tied into our ability to focus for long periods of time. Reading long texts is still the single greatest activity we can do to cultivate that mindset.

And we can either hope for another Gutenberg breakthrough invention that will change the way our minds work, or kickstart another revolution in which people think critically for themselves.

Its amazing how one “quick look” at something online gets you easily suckered into a rabbit hole that melts away your time. This happened to me tonight and while I should’ve been actively writing something new, I lost the night.

Even with my stubbornness and full knowledge of what the algorithms are doing (including using extensions that prevent some of the more predatory features), multi-billion dollar companies designed to keep users hooked… will get you hooked.

So, in lieu of my usual, I offer something else instead.

In response to yesterday’s post, Terry Ann Carter (a foremost poet of the world… and I don’t say that lightly) sent me a prayer/mantra she put together in her thoughts about the concept of small.

With her permission, she has allowed me to post it here. Let it be a guide for you as well.

Sometimes the big world is too big. Big noise. Big problems. Big people, as though they are the only ones. For now, I want my world to be small, filled with the loving caring people I know. My beautiful families. My exquisite friends…who, over and over show me the world I want to live in. Oh yes. And one small act of kindness each day.

In some ways, I think many of us were hoping for a global reset with this pandemic.

An opportunity for everyone to reassess how the world works and to reconfigure it—especially those broken systems that aren’t serving (or have never) served our needs.

However, what we’re finding is some minor revisions, a few moments of insight and a lot of frustration about not being able to go back to the usual. Unfortunately, the usual has already changed and despite the desire, it’s the equivalent to wanting to revisit a golden era of our past… which may not have been as great as we remember it to be.

But, what we’ve become hyper aware of in the last year is our own community.

We’re recognizing the businesses in our community (especially those that are struggling), the events and the many ways the people in it are reaching out. In being forced into isolation, we’ve once again shrunk our world to those immediately around us.

Pardon the cadence, but the global cesspool is being replaced with the cozy village.

The tiresome flood of digital information, laden with sensational headlines and clickbait marketing tactics, is being absconded for something close.

Something real.
Something nearby.

We just may be learning how to connect with each other again.

Firing off an email.
Responding to a post.
Reminder notes.
Texts to friends.

All require some effort in terms of writing, but the level of thought to accomplish each is shallow. They’re the low hanging fruit.

The actual task of putting together a piece that requires serious thought is met with a lot of resistance.

It necessitates something more than reactive measures that feel like real work is being done. However, it’s the equivalent of saying walking to my car is exercise.

Yes… there is walking and the car might be at the other end of the parking lot… but there is no conscious effort to extend that into the healthy zone of exercise.

Digging deep into writing requires a person to mine the depths of their own mind. It’s a mining operation that is ongoing and periodically (although the timing is never certain) strikes something of high value.

Discovering the depths of the world requires a person to leave the shallow waters of comfort.

It’s hard.
It could be dangerous.
But it’s only there you really learn how to swim.