the center of the universe 'aint shiz...

I mean, don't get me wrong, New York City is nice and all but the 'be all and end all' it 'aint.

No-sir-ee.

See, we 'think' that there's this magic place where all your dreams will come true.  For some it's Hollywood, for others the Big Apple.  Name your city.  Pick your place.  There's probably a spot in the World where you've thought you'll be able to 'be' all that you feel you've been made to be.

If only you can get there.

Like Oz.

'Course 'Oz' might not be the best example 'cause all Dorothy wanted to do once she got there was go home--but that's kinda' why she came to mind.

See, NYC is a 'thing' all to itself.  The pace, the smell, the sound, the people--all of it is overwhelming.  Spending some time in the hustle of it all you get the feeling that a high-pitched life is the only kind of life to have, and the only kind that counts as significant.

But you watch the people there and you see two types.

Those visiting Oz--craned necks, cameras flashing, fanny packs (and fannies) bulging.  The tourists are there to see if NYC is all it's cracked up to be.

Then you got the locals.

Heads down, feet flashing, blackberry or iPhone glued to the head, some form of argument or invective spewing from them and you think, "Dang, I wouldn't want to live here."

Then you have your meetings (at '30 Rock' aka: NBC headquarters) and you're meeting in a room NEXT to the SNL studio and you're thinking to yourself, "Dang, that gummy--there have been too many humans in these here halls--smell is the smell of Britney Spears and Chris Rock and Jim Belushi and Justin Timberlake and Sting and Al Pacino and Jim Carey..."

And they smell just like you and me.

And maybe that's the lesson NYC teaches you.  Maybe when you put that many 'people' in one place you get to see what people are really like.  And I gotta' admit that the picture's not that pretty.

Especially when you drive into South New York or Brooklyn or Queens as we did on our way to the airport last night because the highway was backed up.  You drive there and you get to see how the 'real' people live.  The people who work normal jobs and don't earn a million plus a year?  Them folk live in an NYC devoid of all romance or charm.  Their NYC is plain filthy and desperate.  

And that's my thought for you and me today.

See it's one thing to live in a fantasy world.  Sure, my second meeting (for dinner) at this wicked little spot in the East Village was cool and fun and great.  Yeah the two types of water they bring you (one in a white glass bottle the other in a green one) are cool and the calamari was awesome and the chicken pot pie (from scratch) was chic and the waitress was playful and coy and the street was rockin' and the music was cool.

But you can't live at a restaurant in the East Village.

Nor would you want to.

You know what strikes me the more 'celebrities' and 'high achievers' I meet and rub shoulders with?

They want to be you.

They want your normal life.

And if you and I want 'theirs' that leaves our society in a weird place doesn't it?  'Cause you got the folk at the perceived 'bottom of the food chain' longing to climb their way to the top 'cause they think the folks up there got it on lock but the folks at the top are longing for the days when they could just go to the grocery store or mow the lawn without it being a big deal.

So if 'high society' wants what the 'commoners' got and the commoners want what the 'haves' got then nobody's happy.

And that's the point.

You gotta' learn to be content where you are, being who you are, doing what you've been made to do.

'Cause 'aint no city gonna' fix you.

T

work it baby...

You might sometimes find yourself facing a task so enormous that you freeze.

You'll freeze because you can't do it.

Or at least that's how you'll feel.

Let's think about that for a second.  The 'freeze impulse'.  I think it rears its head because it--a part of us naturally--knows that we're going to fail; or at least it fears failure.

This is why you don't freeze before you go to the store to get milk.  You've done it so many times that you're totally used to it, you know how it's going to go, you know you'll be fine and that you'll get your milk.

But what if you were on the brink of financial insolvency?  What if you'd gotten that dreaded 'insufficient funds' slap in the face enough times that you were actually worried you weren't going to be able to buy milk?  What if the thought of the scornful look the cashier gives you when that moment comes was too much to bear?  

You might walk on by the store and tell your wife you couldn't do it.

Have you ever felt like that?  Has that ever happened to you?  It has to me.

Now let's leap past the simplified milk example and up the stakes a bit.  What if--say--you're getting ready to enter into a two-year co-development deal with a known and established production company, a company with a hit drama series currently on network TV, and what if you have to meet with them tomorrow to explore the 'story world' of the series and what if you happen to be the person who's supposed to create the story world?

Think that might make you nervous?

Bet your butt it would.

So I thought I'd scan and post one page from the brainstorming notes I was working on yesterday.  Reason I figured I'd post it is 'cause I figured it might be useful to some of you to see someone who might be somewhat 'further along' than you on the "Hi my name is ________ and I'm a Hollywood Producer..." timeline posting something that admits to the fact that we're all scared when it comes to doing things that are significant and/or which dovetail with our sense of calling and being.

It's one thing to get rejected over a bag of milk.  It's another thing altogether to have your ideas, your dreams, your vision rejected.

And that's what I'm facing.

Lord knows I would love to be able to hit a producer's blog who's way ahead of me ('cause there will always be people further along and less further along than you...) and find hints, tips, admissions of weakness and transparently shared moments of victory to help me keep keeping at it.

I could do the same thing (and would seek the same) with preaching notes.

You could do the same thing with the notes you make as you build your life and the thing you've been made to do.

Maybe you should start thinking about sharing yourself a bit more--who knows--you might be 'of encouragement' to someone in south east Asia.

But back to the notes...

So I'm freaking out right?  I'm totally nervous and intimidated by the task at hand.  The only thing that's helping me practically at this point is that I've faced this feeling before.  In fact, I still have to force myself to keep moving forward many times when I'm facing a new situation or one in which the stakes have been raised.

(and if you want success and/or the opportunity to do significant work the stakes are always going to be rising)

So I did two things.  

1) I procrastinated a bit.  I had tea with my wife and she and two of my kids made me cookies.  I had come up from my basement office looking lost, my wife took one look at me and said, "You need tea and cookies.  Go back down and come up in half an hour."  I did what she said and half and hour later sat there with her drinking tea and eating warm cookies.  We didn't talk or anything.  I was too lost in the world of ideas but we were together and her presence was more comforting than the warm liquid or gooey chocolate.

Point is, that little break helped.

Then I went back downstairs and...

2) Just pulled out my notebook and started writing.  I don't know about you but the thing they taught you in high school english class was and is true.  Free-form brainstorming starts happening as you start putting ideas down on paper and linking them.  So long as you start and keep going for a few minutes you'll end up gathering a head of 'idea-steam' and, before you know it, you'll have eight or ten pages of good ideas.  I suggest doing this kind of brainstorming with pen and paper because a) it's tactile which I think is better for working with ideas and b) it allows you to make mistakes but not erase them.  When you write something that turns out to be 'not so good' don't erase it, cross it out and write a 'NO' beside it with a circle around it. Why?  Well, this way you'll always be able to see the bad idea and because you'll see it crossed out and in the context of the other (and better) things you were thinking at the time you'll be able to (i) not repeat it and (ii) learn from it 'cause it'll be right there in your notes along with the good, and really good ideas.

Get it?

(you can't do that on a computer--I mean you can with nova mind but who's got the time to master that thing?)

You can do this same thing if you're getting ready to preach.  Same thing if you're building a proposal for work.  

The key is to move beyond being frozen to that place where you start putting ideas (even if they're not so good to start with) down on paper.

They say 80-90% of writing is re-writing.  I think it's true.  The reality is if you don't brainstorm you won't write and if you don't write you won't re-write and if you don't re-write you'll never have anything to say or give to people which will mean you make no impact.

And it seems to me a key reason we exist is to impact each other.

T

it looks pretty bleak out there...

I was looking for an image that captured how I'm feeling today.

The one above does it pretty well.

That's my youngest son sketching in the sand at the beach on our rained-out vacation a week ago.  What I like about the shot is the emptiness all around him.  You got what looks like an ocean of sand and the actual ocean surrounding him.  Nothin' but him.

And his ideas.

I didn't ask him to sketch--didn't suggest it.  I was a hundred yards or more away from him when I saw him pick up the stick and start.  Grabbed my telephoto and off we go.

My son in the wilderness with his ideas.

Just like me.

Sometimes I feel like that's really all we have.  Us and our thoughts.  Us and our ideas.  Us and our loneliness.

And to fight the loneliness we come up with ideas and--if we have the tenacity, talent and perseverance--give birth to them so that we might fill the World around us with things that feel familiar.

Familiar because they've come from us.

Or have they?

That's the question, isn't it, when it comes to ideas and creativity?  And the question is relevant to those of you who preach and to those of you who produce and to those of you who 'make' things and to those of you who need to come up with ideas to fill your world.

Where do our ideas come from?

Some would say from our subconscious.  Some would say from our past experiences, education, upbringing, relationships and so on.  Some--who've recently read 'The Secret'--might suggest the ubiquitous 'universe' as the source and others might say God.

I've found that, in my life, the question as to the root of creativity or ideation has led me down the path to being found by and in God.  My hope would be not to try and direct or even influence what you find but rather to encourage you to keep thinking on it and searching and wondering.

Because I believe that those who seek will find.

And that imperative (seek and ye shall find...) is of encouragement to me today as I sit here at my desk working to make headway while feeling like it's almost impossible to do so.  I'm reminded--looking at the photo of my baby son--that though my ideas, thoughts and dreams are mere sand-scratches in the wilderness of eternity, they're 'my' (Our) scratches and I was made to scratch them.

Nobody else is going to do what you do so it's important that you do it.

T

they say...

The grass is always greener on the other side.

I certainly am fighting that sense right now.  The reason is we just got back from visiting my wife's Dad and his wife at their more-than-fabulous home in Mooresville (just north of Charlotte on Lake Norman) North Carolina.

Their house is so perfect it makes me depressed.

Not while I'm there, but once I get home.

See, my home is simple and basic, nothing like my father-in-law's mini-mansion by the lake and when we arrived home after our trip the day before yesterday after thirteen hours on the road with four kids under nine in the van we were hit--again--with how humble our house is.

So I parked the van, walked inside, changed my shoes and immediately started mowing the lawn.  Then I went and washed my car.

("...the good people of the World are washing their cars on their lunch breaks, hosin' and scrubbin' as best they can in skirts and suits...")

Why?

Couple reasons.

First is my neighborhood.  It's an older one (60+ years) and that means the majority of the residents are retirement age plus and that means their gardens are beautiful.  If you let your lawn lapse in my neighborhood you might get picketed.

And it's not the stupid (Pleasant-ville/Disney) kind of 'manicured' but the blue-collar/immigrant kind of cared-for.  The people in my neighborhood were grateful to be able to buy these simple little houses two blocks north of the lake and that gratefulness led them to take care of their houses for years and years and years and when you have that kind of community focus applied to where you live you end up with one of those neighborhoods that never really depreciate.

In fact, over the course of this recession, while flashier mini-mansion-er type neighborhoods around us have plummeted 30% or more we've lost maybe 8% and houses are still selling here--not in the week to ten days it took during the boom--but in a month or so.

Anyway, it's one of those nice neighborhood where people care.

So you mow and you sweep and you trim and you edge and you plant and you make your town a home.

That's what I did.

And, wouldn't you know it, as my wife and I applied ourselves to the simple work of spring gardening a truth began to dawn on me as my house slowly turned from humble to lovely.  

I realized that the grass isn't greener on the other side.  

The grass is green everywhere.

You just need to tend it.

So I'm feeling a renewed call to 'flourish where I've been planted'.  This is my home.  Sure it's not in NASCAR country (and many of my leftie-readers would salute that fact) and it's not 'on the lake' and it's not very big.

But it's ours and it's simple and--when cared for--it has a kind of meek loveliness to it.

Tomorrow I'm going to the bank to see if I can re-finance it to get some $'s flowing to extend it a bit.

And maybe put in a mansion-worthy hot tub.

Either way, I'm going to be happy.

'Cause, dang, but the grass in that shot up there (taken after I finished cutting it on my return from mansion-land) is plenty green enough for me.

T

making the best of it...

So it's officially been a crappy vacation.

My poor wife.

She's been so jonesing to hit the beach for the past four or five months it's literally become something of a joke around our house.  She's just been plain crazy for some time in the sun, sand and saltwater.

So this week's trip south to see her dad and his wife at Hilton Head in South Carolina was to be her 'dream come true' moment for the year.

Then yesterday we hit a record low temperature for this time of year.  Seriously, rain for two days straight, gale force winds, the opposite of what she'd been hoping for.

And through it all I've been trying to stay positive and keep an upbeat outlook--for her sake if for no other reason--but today I've started to be worn down a bit.

When we did get a break in the rain last night, we rushed to the beach on our bikes and took some shots.  The one up top is my favorite.  My eldest son Jordan is in the foreground with Niki, Sarah, Sam and Zoe running up in the background.

Kinda' captures our experience this time round.

Crappy weather but still finding a way to have fun in the midst of it.

But this morning--at breakfast--I felt happy despite the cloudy misery.  And I don't think I was feeling happy for any particular reason other than the typical undercurrent of happiness that attaches itself to simple Christian folk like me.  At the root of my experience I'm happy because of Jesus--because of what's been done for me, what's been accomplished, what's finished.

I'm happy.

And it hit me like a small simple revelation that that simple happiness is quite the treasure. The kind of treasure that turns crappy vacations to good times away with the people I love and who love me.  People who've been given me as gift.  People who are contributing to my ongoing sanctification--people who are making me a better person.

Little people (four or 'em) and one lady-person.

My family.

My friends.

T

a question of perspective...

So lets try to spot the difference between these two shots...

Yes, the top one is darker.  It's the master bedroom window at our vacation house in Hilton Head S. Carolina.  It's raining outside and my wife is feeling crappy.

This one is the living room window, looking out onto a lovely pool, hot tub and golf course.  It's raining outside and my wife is feeling crappy.

The reason for this post is because of something my wife's been saying all day.

She'd walk to our bedroom at the front of the house--watching the sky, looking for some sign of it breaking up--and say, "Hey it looks like it's starting to turn..."  Then she'd walk down into the living room and do the same thing, except this time looking out the window on the back of the house.  "Oh man..." she'd moan "No it looks worse from here..."

Same house, same weather system, two different perspectives.

(and funnily enough on the screen here the effect is reversed with the bedroom shot looking gloomier than the living room one)

So why does she feel differently about the two views?

Here's my theory...

The front view is in our bedroom.  We sleep there together on a super comfy bed.  Our baby joins us halfway through the night.  In the morning we lay there snuggling and our kids come in and fill the bed with us.  We do our pushups and sit ups in that room each night after we come in from the hot tub.

We love each other in that room.

It makes her happy.

This morning, down in the living room, my wife's Dad was waiting grumpy as all get out.  He's grumpy 'cause it's raining and this is his one vacation this year and the first time he's seen our kids in nine months and he's the kind of guy who must be 'doing' things at all times and almost exclusively outdoors which is why he's chosen to live 1,100 km's away from us on a lake in North Carolina.

So for him, this rain is death.

Following me?

My wife wakes up with her husband who loves her, looks out at the same rainy sky and feels happy and hopeful.  Meanwhile, downstairs, her Dad is simmering.

She comes down, meets him, gets infected with his mood and--voila--the back room view suffers.

See?

Perspective.

This is important for a few reasons.

One, if you're a preacher, you must keep in mind that your perspective and possibly your exegetical and interpretive work is always impacted by your environment, your life, and the things you're dealing with at any given time.  It's not my suggestion that you try to mitigate against this as that would be impossible and much of the beauty of preaching is in that strange mix of dust and divinity that occurs as we bring all our baggage to the process and God enlivens it with His Spirit for the sake of (and usually tailor-made for) the audience.

I'm just suggesting that we should be aware that this is happening so that we can be sensitive to the process with the hope of working with it in as optimized a manner as possible.

Two, if you're a producer, you should keep in mind that your perspective as you come to developing a story for the screen is going to be impacted by your environment and the key thing to be aware of here is that the environment that influenced your 'take' on the story at the start of your process is--of necessity--going to shift and change over time as you work your way through the process of bringing that story to life which means that the 'first environmental experience' must be potent enough to last and stay with you over the course of the years that are to follow as you develop the story and long after the initial perspective-shaping experience has faded into memory.

Three, if you're neither a preacher nor a producer, you should still stay aware of the factors that are impacting how you feel about your life.  Once you recognize that--perhaps like my wife--your husband (or wife) makes you happy you should do what you can to stay with them most of the time and, when life takes you away and there's nothing you can do about it, remember that it's their absence that's making you feel so low and use that perspective to shape how you're feeling in the moment.

(it's not that you 'hate' Vancouver it's just that you're there alone...)

If you're aware of how your perspective is manipulated by the company you keep or the environment in which you're situated you should be able to 'take charge' of how you're feeling (to some degree) so that your rainy days start looking a little better.

You'll also get better at recognizing what's driving the way in which your audience is feeling and that'll help you craft stories that resonate and sermons that turn rainy days...

To lovely ones.

T

What really matters...

Yes I am, in fact, blogging while on vacation.

Doesn't feel like work, that's why.  

Lemme' tell you about the pictures first, then I'll get to the body of it.  The first shot above says it all.  A husband and a wife hoping for the best for the couple in the accident while being thankful it wasn't them.

We stopped dead on I95 southbound, headed for Hilton Head.  As far back as you can imagine the highway was one big tailgate party--or would have been under normal circumstances.

Three times the air-evac chopper arrived, picked up a patient, flew them off to the Charleston Hospital then came back to do it again.  Three chopper rides, two ambulance trips.  Five people critically injured.

We sat on I95 for just under two hours watching it unfold.  We were about half a mile back from the site of the accident.  We'd been rolling along no problem, more than ready to 'be there' as a four-hour trip from Mooresville (just north of Charlotte) was a little more than we had appetite for after the 12-hour trip we'd just done from our home west of Toronto to my wife's Dad's place.

Anyway, all of a sudden we see brake lights.  Serious brake lights.  We stop, then emergency vehicles start racing past on the grass shoulder lights blazing sirens blaring.  We sit for a few minutes then a few minutes more than everyone starts getting out of their cars shielding their eyes from the sun trying to see what's happened.

The trucker next to us says someone's dead.

The helicopter arrives.

We know it's serious.

And we start talking with our kids about death and dying.  We pray for the people.  We hope for the best.  The trucker keeps giving us updates.  Can't get 'em out of the cab.  It's a camper and a car tangled up.

Nobody's dead--critically injured.  We should be here an hour or so.

One more patient to go.

They're spraying the road down.

('spraying the road down'?  from what?  what are they washing away?)

Good to go.

Pass the wreck.

The entire front cab of the motor home is destroyed crushed right back into the body of the vehicle.

Lord have mercy.

And that shot of the couple off the top hit me.  I'd just pulled my camera out and started shooting and, checking my shots later, there it was.

"Together"

That's what matters.

Snuggle up next to the one(s) you love and squeeze 'em 'cause you can be sure the couple in that camper who swerved to avoid the car and hit the bridge abutment instead had no idea yesterday was going to be their last.

Go on and get to huggin'.

T

I had no idea...

There's this 'thing' going on in my life right now that's kind of cool--I mean, there are several 'cool things' going on but this one in particular is getting some very interesting feedback.

Take today for example.  I was seeing my Dentist.  I've been his patient since I was a young teen--like for fifteen years or something.  He's had a chance to watch me grow up, get married, have kids, and discover what I'm 'meant' to do with my life.

He's always been very encouraging and interested in what's happening in and around my life.

So today, he asks me how things are going, and I fill him in and he's glad to hear it.  Then, near the end of our time together I mention the 'cool thing' to him.

And he gets all teary-eyed.

He pulls me into the next room, asks for details, listens intently and basically tells me that 'this' is what I'm 'meant' to be doing and seems to indicate that he's been waiting for me to come to this.

Then he grabs my hand and prays with me, right there in his office.

And I'm thinking, 'Man, if even my Dentist 'knows' this 'thing' about me, how is it that I'm the last to know?"

Weird right?

'Course it'd be one thing if you totally lacked introspection and didn't spend any time examining your life or thinking about what you're doing, the value of it, and what you've been put on the planet to do.

But with me, that kind of reflection has always been a big part of my process.

And yet, here I am, going through this very interesting season in my life--at the culmination of three years of real struggle and some neat advances capped off by three months of intense near-despair and personal struggle--and I'm the 'last' to know.

Very interesting and humbling at the same time.

What I'm getting from this today is a reminder to be in even closer communication with the people around you re: getting their 'take' on where you're at and where you're headed.  Truth is most people won't offer their opinion unless you ask and once you do they'll be pretty free with it.  I've had another friend's marriage run off the rails this week and that got met thinking about openness.  I said to my wife that I wondered if they didn't really sit down to talk with us beforehand 'cause they were worried we'd flag some of the issues that have now really taken hold of them.

Fair enough right?

I mean, nobody likes a bummer, but I think (in their case) it's now safe to say that it would have been much better to get the 'bummer opinion' before they were married rather than after.

Let that be a lesson to me, and perhaps you.

Seek strong advice.

Even if you fear the result, go ahead and ask away.  Ask the wise, strong, accomplished people you know what they think about your trajectory.  Take their thoughts seriously.

Act on them.

Which in my case ('act on them') means that I keep pursuing the 'cool thing' that's happening in my life even though--from a couple different perspectives on it--it's a plain crazy thing to be doing.

(and if the wise folk around you suggest action opposite to what you've been thinking don't jump off the rails just yet, but slow the train down a bit so you can think carefully for a minute or two...)

What's your 'crazy-cool thing'?  You pursuing it?  

What does your Dentist think?

Or better yet, your wife...

T

the long road home...

Oh but what I week I had...

Flew to L.A Monday--15 hours--recovered Tuesday and studied bios for 23 guests.  Wednesday, shot 11 interviews.  Thursday shot 12 interviews.  Hung with my team 'till way too late.  Friday got up (four hours later) and worked my way home.  11:00pm ET, or 2:00am for me, arrived home.  Saturday got up at 8:00am ET or 5:00am for me and went to get some 'family photos' done for Mother's Day.

Needless to say I'm feeling somewhat fried today.

Then at Church this morning I broke down.

Wasn't anything obviously special or spectacular that did it.  My two littlest kids had gone to dance in the isle with Mommy and my oldest son and daughter snuggled up next to me in the pew as the Pastor prayed for the kids.

And I started weeping.

I felt such deep thankfulness for my babies--and their Mother--and for the Lord using all five of them to sanctify me over these past nine years (13 years married, nine since the birth of my eldest).  I felt overwhelmed by grace.

So I cried.

And cried.

And cried.

Couldn't even sing in worship lest I break down in uncontrolled sobbing.  It was really serious.

Then the scripture readings came and one of them was straight-up telegraphed for my younger brother and his wife as they prepare to head back overseas to Israel with their three little boys tomorrow. He knew it--started sobbing--his wife knew it, cried and cried, and I knew it. "That's why you were here this morning..." I told him after the reading as the worship continued.  "To hear that."

Heavy duty stuff.

Then the sermon, simple and from the heart, and prophetic as all-get-out, dealt with trust and faith and hope in the midst of insecurity--a 'word' applicable to my family and my brother's.

And through it all I was thinking of L.A.  Such a jaded, materialistic, pressure-packed town. Also a town full of lovely people and talented.  Thing was, on the first day there they were casting a movie in the room next to one of ours as we were setting up and I was so very deeply troubled by all the look-a-like girls (like tall skinny colts) sitting there on the floor waiting for the chance to have their dreams come true.

And I know their dream is a sham.

I know what it's like to be an actor.  I know what it's like to hire them and to work with them and to fire them.  I know they're--except at the very top of the food chain--basically there to be used and then cast aside.  I know they'll have no power and no influence and all but no chance at their dream fulfilled and I also know that, even if they 'make it' and become 'top echelon', they will find that their dream does not yield satisfaction.

So watching them there at the very start of their journey, I found myself grieving for them.

Then one of our last guests of the day, on Thursday, came through.  The guest was a pretty big star and acted like a superstar and then some.  I can't even describe how tense the atmosphere was on their arrival.  I know there are reasons for feeling stressed and tense and angry but, boy, did this guest ever let loose.  It's amazing to me we got the interview done.  Afterward I think they seemed satisfied.

But they were proof-positive of what I was thinking on our first day.

No amount of success or notoriety is going to make you happy.

So when I got home this weekend and spent it with my family and my wife and my babies and our community at our simple little Church in our simple little town and God broke through to comfort and confirm...

Well, lemme' tell you, I'd take this weekend in all it's simple home town glory over weeks and weeks (or a lifetime) in extravagant tinseltown.

Oh yes I would.

My hope for you--as you face a new week--is that you find beauty and glory and grace in your simple little life.

'Cause from where I sit, the bright lights be illuminating a bunch of empty souls.

T

gettin' through it...

So I almost didn't make it today.

(the picture--by the way--is the view from my balcony at the end of 'day one'...)

Part of it was barely sleeping last night.  I just kept getting woken up and when I'd stir my racing mind would take over and I'd be overwhelmed with thought after thought connected to the interviews I was to do today.

Three hours of sleep the night after a 15 hour travel day followed by 12 high-profile celebrity interviews in one day does not make for a happy camper.

My neck muscles are so tightly wound it's insane.  Add to that a 10-day old sinus infection that just won't quit and you can imagine how 'awesome' it was to be me today.  Lucky for me my Director's wife is here and happens to be a registered massage therapist.  

(she fixed me up good, thanks Nik...)

Oh, and did I mention the kind of focus that's required to interview someone 'well'?  Lemme' tell you, you can't 'mail' those in.

The upshot was a morning that nearly paralyzed me.  As we sat at our local French Bistro eating our egg sandwich with red potatoes chased down by fresh coffee and freshly squeezed orange juice surrounded by William Morris' finest (the bistro is down the street from WMA's Beverly Hills headquarters) sitting in the sun burning up time on their PDA's and looking resplendent in their business-best (even their girls look hot) I thought to myself, "Gee, you know, I should be enjoying this..."

But I was filled with dread.

Normal, typical, 'stage fright'.  I get this way every time we do this which is hilarious considering  I've been interviewing people since I was 19.

At the root it comes down to the fact that I don't feel 'worthy'.  I feel--in some silly way--like George Hamilton or Cedric the Entertainer or Anita Pointer or Nigel Lythgoe are somehow 'better' than me.

It's insecurity, it's pride, it's silly.

But the fear--in the moment--is real and it makes you eat no more than 2/3's of your fabulous sandwich and makes you want to run for the hills.

That's a part of a performers' life.

"What if they don't like me?"  "What if we don't connect?"  "What if it's a waste of time?" "What if they reject me?"

All these thoughts and more race through your mind, seeming like voices insisting that you're going to fail.

And in that moment you have a decision to make.

Cave or rise.

Admit defeat or stand up and do what you've been made to do.

No matter what it is that you do with your life I'm sure you face similar fears to mine.  I figured I'd admit to you how hard my day was today because of one simple thing.

It ended well.

The interviews went great, and even Cedric the Entertainer (AND his publicist, which is always the toughest part...) were really happy, impressed and encouraging.

And that same result can and will be yours, by times, as you decide, with me...

To rise.

T

my life...

So I'm in Beverly Hills.

One 15-hour trip later.

Seriously, we were in-transit for 15 hours door to door yesterday from the time I left my house west of Toronto, drove to Buffalo, got stuck behind a full 'search and seizure' of a car at the border, got onto our delayed flight to Philly, arrived in Philly, waited for three hours, got on the plane, sat on the tarmac for another hour and almost a half, flew five and a half hours to Los Angeles on a totally packed U.S Airways (my least favorite) plane, landed at LAX, taxied, waited for the gate guy to let our plane pull up to the jetway, got off, found a cab, drove at breakneck speed into Beverly Hills and checked into our...

Hotel.

(at the equivalent of 2:00am our time)

Fifteen hours.

Oh man.

Then we walk to our favorite little French pastry shop for breakfast this morning and my wife calls me freaking out because the bank is up to its usual shenanigans and the kids are driving her nuts and I didn't call her during my layover ('cause my Executive Producer was feeling 'talky' and we were deep in conversation the whole time and I didn't think to call 'cause I thought she'd said she'd be out most of the day...) and she thought I was dead and I'm in Beverly Hills and she's lonely and she hates when I travel and I didn't call.

Sheesh.

I told my EP it's like I hit my wife's three 'hot buttons' (money issues, me away= her alone, and being non-communicative) all at the same time.

Classic.

Sorry baby.

Sometimes I just get into my own headspace and don't think about anything but getting through it and that makes me act in ways that harm those around me.

'Total depravity' anyone?

Yes, that's me.  Basically selfish and inconsiderate left to my own devices.

Today I'll sit on that there balcony pictured above and study for my interviews, ten tomorrow and twelve (if you can believe it) on Thursday.

Then I'll do another 12-14-hour day flying home Friday, get to bed by 2:00am and be up at 8:00am for a family photo session with my extended family Saturday morning at 9:00am.

It's like I keep saying and keep reminding myself and maybe you.

You just keep putting one foot in front of the other and doing your best moment by moment and try not to stress about the rest.

I'm thirty five and have been doing my bi-vocational (preacher/producer) thing for basically 16 years now and I still feel like each day is a stretch, each day is a learning curve, each day brings with it some joy and much sorrow and stress and I never 'really' feel like I'm getting anywhere which is why you and I need to be so very sure that we're doing the thing we're called to do 'cause imagine if you took all of the above and the common denominator under it wasn't 'calling' but 'rat race'.

I can't imagine.

Here's hoping you can't either.

T

spend it with your wife...

I was thinking about my last post, in fact, I've been thinking about it quite a bit yesterday and today and so have some of my readers--and they've been letting me know about it.

I got a few "Which one am I?  Am I the lazy one?" phone calls yesterday and today.  Funny. Fortunately none of said callers were the ones I was thinking of.

Anyway, the title of the post struck me again just now.

The whole question of how one should go about living one's life.  And I thought...

"You should live it with your wife."

That's mine up there.  Taken less than an hour ago on date night downtown.

She's cute right?

And she's mine, and I love her and we're happy together.

And, just like that, I thought about those of you who aren't yet married, haven't yet made that lifetime decision but have someone in your life who you love.  You just haven't taken the leap yet.

I thought I might share my perspective with you.  Thought I might say that a man who finds a wife finds a good thing.

If you choose well, and spend your life in her service, she'll make almost everything better.

Just in case you were toying with the idea of 'manning up' and popping that question or calling that girl back or asking her out for the first time.

I say, 'go for it'.

You 'aint gettin' no younger...

T

how to spend your life...

Well lookie what we have here...

Gifts.

(from under our tree 2008)

And, chances are, you have a few of 'em.

Gifts.

Things that you've been gifted to do.  Special abilities or talents.  A thing you can do better than almost anyone else you know.

Know what yours are?

Here's the thing.

Can you make money off of doing that thing you've been gifted to do?  Does there currently exist in the World (or does there seem soon to be) a way for you to take the thing you do and get it out there in the World to people who will give you money in exchange for you taking the time to make and give them that thing?

If your answer is 'yes'--hooray for you--you have the chance to live a life fulfilled.  

'Cause you and I both know it's much better to spend your life doing something you love in exchange for money than to spend it punching someone's else's clock trading away nothing but the hours of your life for pay.

But, even if your answer is 'yes', you have something to worry about.

What if you're good at more than one thing?

What if you're 'called' or 'gifted' to do something but 'talented at' or 'able to do' many things and (to make matters worse) what if the things you 'can' do are higher paying or more fame or ease inducing or praise begetting than the thing you 'must' do?

What if you exchange calling for perceived success/riches/fame/acceptance and ease?

You're in trouble if you do that.

So, if you have a 'gift' make sure you keep it in front of your eyes all the days of your life and just decide to 'do' that gift regardless of every other pressure that rises up to try and assail you.

Now, what if you have a 'gift' but can't make money off it?

Well then, find the best, most fulfilling 'job' (where you trade your skills and time for money) you can, do it well and find ways in the rest of your life to exercise your 'gift'.

You'll probably be alright if you do that.

But...

What if you have a 'gift' but you're lazy or fearful?

What if you so fear rejection that you just can't find a way to take that step of faith out into an arena where you display your gift for all to see?  Well, if you never try--you're right--you'll never get rejected but you'll be sure to fail because to never try is to fail.

But if you're lazy?

Imagine, someone clearly gifted to do a thing that no one else can do.  Imagine that person knew they were gifted and others knew it too.  Imagine though that that person decided that instead of making the sacrifices necessary to pursue their gifting they'd prefer to just take it easy, spend time on the couch and lying in the sun, eating out and lazing away their days in contemplation.

Do you think they'd be happy?  I don't think so, because to be truly called to a thing and never do it seems a denial of an essential truth of your personhood (never mind of your Maker...) and that kind of rejection can't be easy to live with no matter how 'nice' your life seems otherwise.

More importantly, can you imagine how impoverished their circle of relationships, and in the case of someone exceptionally gifted, their community, country and perhaps even an entire culture would be because they weren't able to 'man up' and do the thing they were placed on the planet to do?

I have two friends I'm thinking of as I write this.

Both are gifted.

One is doing what it takes (and suffering mightily for it) to make a way in the World with his gift.

The other is lazing away his days, thinking about things, but never stepping up to the plate and hanging 'em out there.

I learn from each.

The one inspires me.

The other inspires fear in me.

The end result--for me--is a deepening humility wherein I buckle down and commit and re-commit to being and doing who and what I've been made to be and do.

How 'bout you?

T