What is the one thing you can't automate?

In an increasingly interconnected economy, everyone is the maker and the consumer at the same time. The entire world has opened up to competition, and if someone on the other side of the world can do it better and cheaper, you had better watch out. Whether American manufacturing or any other sector from a bygone era, it makes zero sense to hold on for dear life.

The worthwhile pivot is to be creative. But how could making art actually be more economically viable? 

Well, I'd say this... what is the one thing you can't automate?

Creativity.

Either make something unique or watch your market value tank. Make something creative or watch a machine take over. Make something creative, even if it's a service, an experience or a digital offering. The better bet is to flex our creative muscles and add to our artistic toolbelt.

The only thing that will survive automation is creativity. We might as well dive in.

Mindset and measurables

When it comes to self-critiques, one I've often had of myself is that I don't finish what I start. Part of being swept up in the feelings, the colors, and the vibrations, is that those sensations and input can completely supplant the need to finish anything. Simply, I love the idea enough that I've been less concerned with turning it into reality.

The thing is, I think that dynamic has also lent itself to a type of mental frailty that resides in some place adjacent to that concept of appreciation of beauty.

That frailty has allowed me to settle for less than the goal, too often. As I'm training for a half marathon in late July, I keep on reminding myself of one idea: 99% isn't enough.

Whether running 13.1 miles, publishing my poetry, submitting my photography to more galleries, or building a nonprofit development course, I want to get better at completing things.

It feels like an essential tweak that could yield exponential results, both in mindset and measurables.

Here's to experimenting with goals.

Real Darwinism

One of the main ways we can push the world forward is by applying takeaways from certain fields or disciplines, and overlaying them with new ones.  As in, 'if it worked here, it's at least worth trying over there.' Often times it's not a literal application, but a project-specific approach that is informed by findings from another sector. Darwinism has always been explained within a context of the evolution of species, but if we rotate that concept slightly, it has some interesting implications.

There's value in thinking about evolution primarily as something that happens within the span of a single lifetime, as opposed to the evolution of species over the span of countless lives.

The pivot isn't about traits losing out via competition, it's about ways of being losing out to better ones.

The question is, what is better?

What feels more important? Alive? Engaged? Connected? Happy? Fun? Meaningful?

Real Darwinism is personal.

And my hunch is, that it's all in those answers.

Learning to communicate

In the nature versus nurture debate, there are various silos that require unpacking. As much as folks tend to argue for one or another, most of us would agree that it's a mix of both. We might have differing opinions as to the percentages, but rationality tells us it's a Venn diagram. Learning to communicate is an exception.

We all have personalities that feel inherent, but communication is something that is modeled, practiced, and experienced after birth: nurture.

We have taken queues from our family and friends. We have replicated and deviated from communication patterns that serve and don't serve us.

One thing is for sure, communication requires intentionality.

If we want to be fair and compassionate communicators, what might we do differently?

Idea infatuation

We tend to be biased in favor of the latest "item" when it comes to our ideas. That latest flash of inspiration that blinds us to everything, much less how we'd actually make it happen. That's probably a bit harsh, because the digital revolution has certainly created more ways to make "it" happen yourself.

Even so, it's incredibly important that we not only fully revel in that moment of inspiration, but that we also foster the ability to be practically critical of our idea once the high wears off.

As someone who is self-diagnosed as having SIS, Shiny Idea Syndrome, I've found that the time I put into growing my strategic chops pays off exponentially.

Idea infatuation is about being absolutely strategically blind.

Can we make "it" happen without learning how to know when, how much, and in what order?

There are way too many variables to consider, but if strategy means thinking 5 moves ahead, I'd be hard-pressed to minimize it.

How about you?

It's all on the inside

When THAT happens, I'll be OK... When THIS stops, I'll finally be good...

When HE stops annoying me, I'll be able to settle down...

When THEY do that, I get so pissed off...

With all we see happening in the world, from our layered personal lives to a larger context that can feel upside down, it can be hard to calibrate ourselves to all the input. Even so, if we let other people determine our mood, it's fair to assume that we'll be precariously placed on the edge.

The thing is, I can see how these mindset things come back to the chicken and the egg.

To move beyond our reactivity to outside perturbances, we need to be sure our way of thinking can help mitigate that. If we're not sure it will, we neuter the upside before we've ever started.

Whether good or bad, it's all on the inside.

El Gringo

As a kid, I had the good fortune of being able to travel a lot. My dad worked in the industry and getting to see Argentina often (where my dad is from) and visit a host of other amazing places, was all part of growing up. Between travel and growing up in a bilingual immersion school gave me the privilege of being fluent in both English and Spanish from an early age. Language and travel were my gateways to heritage, culture, and the ethos our family lived by. It also was proof to me that it's not only OK but also cool to be one of the many permutations of people this world has to offer.

On one of our trips to Mexico, when I was 12 or so, I got into the habit of playing in the soccer game that happened every day at 2pm. I'd show up, like clockwork.

I remember planning my whole day around making sure I'd be there for the start of that game.

Most of the people playing were older than me, so when I showed up, not much was expected in regards to my output. There'd be jokes told, nothing nasty, but it was clear that I was the outsider. To their credit, I was included, but not really incorporated... until I scored a goal.

Questions about whether or not "el gringo" could play were put to rest.

In the instance I remember most vividly, some new guys had shown up and were making the same jokes (in Spanish) that I had heard over the past week, but this time I replied (in Spanish), "I understand everything you're saying and I can play pretty well."

"Entiendo todo lo que estan diciendo y puedo jugar bastante bien."

I scored a goal soon thereafter and followed up, "Didn't I tell you?"

"No te dije?"

In my mind, this was just an instance of people assuming things about me based on how I looked. It was an experience that obviously didn't tap into prejudice the way being black in America would, for instance, but it did prove to me that basing our judgments on things like skin color or hair type was insane.

It's always been clear to me that it's not what you are that matters, but who you are.

We all want a chance to earn it. Let's make sure we give that to each other.

At least we're looking in the right ocean

When we think about our place in the greater scheme of things, one can't help but come to some type of nihilistic conclusion about our inconsequential role. We're each just a tiny part of the cosmos, yet we find ourselves on this particularly beautiful, habitable, complex, unique, conflicted, imperfect planet.

Even though sometimes it can all feel like a crapshoot and we wish we had more control, we should be permanently buoyed by the insane, superlative beauty of our greatest relationships, loves, communities, and experiences.

When we zoom the lens out, it's a little easier to breathe.

We are small. It's true.

But at least we're looking in the right ocean.

Humans

One of my favorite Chicago coffee shops, The Coffee Studio in Andersonville, is a great place to grab high quality espresso or coffee. They make their drinks with care & serve Intelligentsia, for inquiring minds. That said, this post has nothing to do with their coffee. It has to do with the signage on their bathroom doors.

When you walk to the back of the shop to access the bathrooms, you see that they are both labeled, "HUMANS." I love that because it doesn't qualify or specify, it simply states that its intended use is for all humans.

That's the extent of the argument. No commas or logos, just a plain and simple ethos of equality. It's why the term "human rights" is used, and it's the basis for my entire outlook on ethnicity, language, culture, geography, citizenship, politics, and activism.

I have no desire or reflex to exclude.

What's that all about anyway? We're all humans.

Stories

The stories we tell ourselves tend to limit us more than facilitate our better self. "I'm this way. I'm that way. I don't do that well. I always do this."

Our youthful attempts to grasp at personality end up producing a reflexive, historical, and/or familiar sense that who we are and what we will be is predetermined, or somehow outside our control. We internalize other people's projections of us, or assume traits as if uncontested truths that we can't step outside of.

And why do that? Doesn't that approach rob us of our emotional & spiritual autonomy?

There's value in questioning the stories we've been telling about who we are. Especially the ones that box us in, keeping us in old, less-useful patterns that cater to versions of ourselves that prevent us from growing.

The stories we tell ourselves are the overlays for how we understand our place in this crazy thing called life.

Even so, we get to choose our own story. Do our experiences and specific context affect us? Undoubtedly. But that's the part to reconcile. We don't always have to double down.

We can split the difference too.

Build everything but the ceiling

Much of the time, we build the ceiling before we build the walls. That makes for an odd version of a room, doesn't it?

All too often, we say what can and can't happen before we have the data. We cloud the reality from the jump and we limit an ideas ability to grow.

Our tendency to curb possibility before we've even put ourselves in a place to turn it into reality, is a recurring pitfall many of us succumb to. The great part is, we're just one choice away from flipping that. Just one decision away from assuming we can actually do it.

One thing we can be sure of, is that thoughts are patterns that replicate in our lives.

In that case, why not choose, YES?

Why not build everything but the ceiling?

I need my time

One of the things I've realized over the last few months, is that mornings are a very potent creative time for me. Something about daybreak, the sunrise,  & the smell of freshly ground coffee, all puts me in a creative state. Between a son who wakes up early and a variety of projects, it's even more incumbent upon me to carve out the time I need to write, take photos, edit, work on graphic design, etc.

I'm working to block out 1.5-2 hrs each morning for creative work.

No emails. No calls. No running to meetings.

Once afternoon arrives, I'm better suited to emails and handling the admin side of things. By batching my meetings on one day a week, I'm also able to reduce wasted movement that produces time I can use creatively instead.

One thing we can always ask ourselves is, "are we creating the conditions to do our best work?" The part of us that wriggles & fidgets when that question is asked is exactly why it's worth asking.

I've settled into the fact that I need my time. I need my morning creative time to make art, think without parameters, and write.

So, which chunk of time do you need, and for what?

What time of day? For how long?

Perhaps most importantly, how will it make you feel if you get that time to yourself?

It’s not what you say, it’s what you believe

The reason its alarming when people say repulsive things, is not because saying repulsive things is bad, it’s because BELIEVING repulsive things is bad. For as much as people rail against political correctness, that's really not the issue.

As Americans, we focus too much on being able to say whatever we want, when we should be thinking about what we believe.

It should bother us me more that we aren’t addressing the underlying cause of what people say.

Racism isn’t abhorrent because it is vocalized or written - it’s abhorrent because it's hateful, anti-human, & refuses to acknowledge equality, using an outmoded and disproven philosophy as its central tenet.

Lets question why people say what they say, not whether or not they have the right to say it.

No Phone In The Coffee Shop

As of late, I've taken to leaving my phone in the car while venturing inside to my favorite coffee shops. I've noticed that the times when I have my phone on me, I default to checking it while waiting in line, or waiting for my macchiato after I've ordered it. The barista will be doing their thing, helping make my morning right, and I'll have my head down reading some shit I've probably already seen.

As of November, I've been leaving my phone in the car or in my bag during these moments.

I've had more conversations, I've connected more, and it's been cool. I invite you to join me in 'No Phone In The Coffee Shop' for a few months. I'd be interested what your thoughts are after trying it out for a month or more.

A few questions come to mind...

What is that discomfort we feel when idle? Is it something to do with being alone with our inner monologue?

Are we de-prioritizing social cohesion in favor of smartphone dopamine hits? Is there a value to limiting those hits?

Evolution is collaborative

For evolution to be exclusively about competition, conflict would have to be permanent. We would never get anywhere by working together, and we would never reprioritize personal gain for the sake of teamwork. Our regular lives show us that can't be true.

Every day we wake up and cooperate with others to achieve goals.

When people talk about survival of the fittest, they're often rationalizing a cutthroat approach. The reality tends to be a lot more docile than that worldview might suggest.

When we get things done in our jobs, families, partnerships, and projects, we're almost always working with others to make something positive happen.

Far from notions of hard knocks, evolution is collaborative.

Good enough v becoming the bottleneck

For anyone who builds things, there's the temptation to let perfection get in the way, especially when we're talking about building things that are digital, community-based, social, or artistic. There is always something we can do that would marginally improve some aspect of what we've built without actually making it more effective. An aesthetic tweak here, a conceptual afterthought here, etc etc.

There are times when our creative spirit can work against us. These are the times when we jump down that rabbit hole to make or "improve" that thing when the upside is very small, despite the fact that it allows us to scratch some itch.

Creative expeditions can be hugely helpful, but they have to be well timed.

If they function as a distraction from the high value work we should be doing, the result is a treadmill. If they arise from a strategic buffer we've created for our project, then we're actually going somewhere.

As we look ahead to a new year of accepting good enough and avoiding becoming the bottleneck, the question looms, what's the highest value thing we could be doing right now to ensure that our project will flourish?

100 billion neurons

It's amazing to think about the fact that there are as many neurons in our brain as there are stars in the galaxy. 100 billion neurons transmitting information, serving as a link between our inner galaxy (the network of information inside us) and our external galaxy (the network of historical organic creation). If what's inside us is a mirror for what's outside us, we're lucky to have so many options.

Despite the fact that 100 billion neurons exist in our brain, its ability to categorize, delineate, decipher, extrapolate, and protect, is also essential to the ways we figure out what the hell is going on all around us.

Every day we know more about the nature of our brains and the nature of space, I'm just blown away by what we've been given to work with.

We have the bandwidth. We have the resources. We have the people.

Our mind's tendency to reduce and distill is powerful. Let's just make sure we're not taking the easy way out. Simple solutions are romantic, and there's a whole range of stuff we shouldn't overthink. Even so, we know when we're employing cognitive or emotional shortcuts, especially in areas where we know we have room to grow.

100 billion neurons of discernment, and all we really have to do is ask ourselves.

100 billion neurons to hit the pause button and listen, so that when our reflection reaches our lips, it's inclusive of the truth.

Preset: busy

It feels like a version of talking about the weather. But there's a social game going on too... "I've got a lot going on, and I have stuff to show up for, and things are going well for me, and I'm legit, and I'm, and I'm ... "

Without me even saying it explicitly, you see the game going on there. As an extension of that interaction, most everyone we talk to is "crazy busy", "slammed", "up against it", or even "fucked."

It seems like a hell of a preset: busy.

What happens when we're rushing, over scheduling, showing up late, canceling appointments, rescheduling them, etc etc?? In my experience, it tends to mean that reactivity is the general state of things.

When we reject the cult of busy, we at least have the chance to reclaim our preset, and choose a different story to tell ourselves about time and the way we show up.

When we say we're busy, we're really just justifying ourselves in a space. The thing is, busy often infects our ability to ever be in a place fully. We can still achieve without being busy. We could just be...

... effective.

... potent.

... inspired.

... focused.

...READY.

More more more

For a capitalist economy to be considered healthy, it always has to be growing. More more more.

Even a hedonist like me has to acknowledge that the doctrine of "more more more" is not only a bizarre way to measure success, it's also unsustainable on a personal level.

Capitalist economies need to grow, but we don't really need more resources or things just because the calendar flipped over.

The reality is that capitalism (not mercantilism) without proper social investment is the most tantalizing of races to the bottom. Nations like Norway are a perfect example of ways to use economies as a springboard for education, infrastructure, and better systems, not just higher GDP.

I'm not ragging on commerce, but I am saying that our system relies on our merciless consumption.

What's good for America's economy is not necessarily good for us or our families, and that disconnect is more evident now than ever.

GDP means nothing to our households or communities.

And more doesn't mean more if we're being real about what we need. It means too much.

Perspective isn't fact

For those of us who are passionate, energetic, opinionated, motivated, or confident, it can be easy to give way to the seduction of our own guitar solo. After all, we're sure of our opinions and have worked out a great bit of logic to support what we think to be an inscrutable position. Despite our 'water tight' rationale, it's important to always be at least somewhat buffered by curious verification of our own motives or perspectives.

Am I setting up a straw man? Am I mischaracterizing? Do I have extra incentive to come out on one side of this debate? Have I rounded a corner when coming to conclusions?

Unfortunately for our ego's, perspective isn't fact.

Once we're realistic about the degree to which our beliefs or opinions aren't supported by facts, I venture to say we'll do a better job of:

1. Being sure to read & research more to find the facts that support an informed stance, and
2. Having the types of conversations that bridge gaps instead of dig them deeper.

If we're open to data, less sure of ourselves, and focused on our blindspots as much as the blindspots of those we converse with, perhaps we'll rebuild our ability to empathize and find more productive common ground.

Once we've told ourselves we own a monopoly on truth, the slope is already too slippery.