Of dreams and other things...

Took that Friday night at the Toronto Island Marina while my family slept onboard. I'd snuck out to take a shot of the city then saw this scene on my way back and had to stop for a minute to try and capture it.

'Course, you don't feel the breeze I felt or hear the shrouds 'ting, ting, ting'-ing against the masts in the harbor. You can't smell the freshness of the water or feel the path underneath your bare feet.

But hopefully you get the idea.

It was a night to dream about.

I'd done so for most of my life in fact, dreamed of taking my family to a 'far off' harbor to stay the night onboard our own vessel.  Now you, like me, might be inclined to think, "Well, it's just a small boat and just a small trip..." to which I'd be inclined to say, "You're right, but lemme' tell you, the seas and winds and trip felt mighty big in the doing..."

And that might be the point.

The only 'reason' in a dream is found in the 'doing'.

I'm feeling this way right now with THE WELL and my work in showbiz.  I've 'dreamed' of doing the work I'm now doing for many long years, but now that I'm 'here' I find it easy to fixate on how small things are vs how 'big' I'd dreamed they'd be 'someday'.

My boat is 24 feet, I'd dreamed it at 64.  My church (second one) is averaging 62 people (11 months in) throughout the summer, I dream it at 3,000.  My showbiz career consists of writing treatments and workshopping budgets and pitching ideas and shooting (mostly) TV interviews, I'd dreamed it on-set, shooting INCEPTION.

So am I depressed?

Well, sometimes, yes a little.  But then I remember (and I forget again and then remember and then forget and then remember...) that it's in the 'doing' that a dream has reason.

Am I 'doing' what I'm supposed to be 'doing'?  

If the answer is 'yes' then I think the job at that point is to focus on the joy and simple devotion of 'doing' that thing while allowing your 'desire' for the 'dream' to be bigger (in actuality) than it is, to drive you to simple, faithful, workmanlike obedience.

If I didn't sail on a 24 footer I'd never learn enough to sail a 34 footer or a 47 footer.  If I don't write treatment after treatment and budget after budget and faithfully do my best with every single moment I happen to be in a room with a camera I won't have the tools needed to do it when the lights and sets are brighter and bigger.  If I can't work a (sermon) text like a fat kid works a candy apple when only 60 people are in the room I'm going to be in big trouble when there are 600 staring back at me.

Simple.

Do the straightforward (unglamorous) things you need to do today and, with time, you might find yourself doing those same things on a different scale.

'Might'...

Yeah, I said it.

Which leads to the next question.

If it stayed 24/62 would you stay happy?

That's serious fodder for another session.

T

Sky Blue...

Check that SHIP out kids.

That's right, SHIP.

All 24 rockin' feet of it, racing downwind (15-20 knots dead-astern) dodging thunderstorm systems (three of 'em) with my smokin' hot wife at the helm in her bikini.

I gotta' say, our fist 'real' open-water trip (to the Toronto Island Marina and back in three days with the whole family) was quite the experience.

We even had puking over the rail (due to 8-10 foot rollers from the NE) on the way back, no joke.

It was real, it was awesome, it was a dream come true.

I'll write some on it and post some more pics tomorrow, but I wanted to get the wife up there and give her her props before turning in.

GREAT morning at THE WELL this morning BTW. I feel like 'Fall Momentum' is starting to build. Gonna' be real interesting to see where our wee church is at come Christmas-time.

I got a one year anniversary (for TW) just around the bend and, besides all my 'fall planning' this week, I've got to get ready to shoot 30 high-end interviews in Hollywood next week and prep a pilot and try to start booking some new biz for our snazzy new downtown studio.

Lots happening.

Feeling grateful, challenged, afraid, nervous, excited, tired, focused, hopeful, bewildered and motivated all at once.

See you tomorrow.

T

Slowly building momentum...

I realize I talk about THE WELL a lot but haven't posted many images (really) that communicate the stage we're at.

The one above (by my friend Chris Stacey) captures what our Sunday morning worship environment looks like.  Truth be told, Chris' shot makes the room look quite a bit 'cooler' (on-screen) than it does in-person.

But the point is, it's starting to look like something.

The black backdrop you see and the runner and the staging behind me we install each week. The screen and projector and lights we purchased and had permanently installed. Took us eight months or so to pay it all off. The reason was, the room we meet in is a rehearsal hall, and a very homely one at that.  The problem with that is people don't really relax into an ugly room and if they're not relaxed they typically don't experience worship or preaching in the way in which they would if they were.

So you gotta' work with what you got.

That's transferrable to your life and work, no?  

Work with what you got.  You might not have the most awesome room to begin with, so make it as good as can and keep improving things as your ability to do so increases.  We made do with a crappy folding screen until we could afford the snazzy big one.  Our sound system is still small and simple but it'll do. We didn't do much 'art design' in the space to begin with and still don't do THAT much, but as we added skilled people with the will to use their skills to help grow the church, we plugged them in and got them doing things that we could actually DO.

Baby steps.

Do the best you can at every stage along the way and work with what you got.

The challenge is to not stress out or beat yourself up along the way for being as 'bush league' as you are (at any given moment along the journey) so that you don't rob yourself of the hope you're going to need to keep going.

'Cause, if you don't keep going, you're never going to get where you want to be going.

Right?

T

Good to Great...

Is rocking my World.

Seriously.

Now, I realize that many of you will have already read this book, but with *only* two million sold I also realize that there are some of us out there who are coming to the G2G dance a little late.

You should get dancing.

The book is seriously life-changing.  I'm not quite finished it yet but am going to read it again as soon as I do.

Yesterday included the chapter on 'The Hedgehog Concept' (you'll have to read it) and here's my synthesis of it:

1) You need to come to understand that thing that you do (or can do) that you have the potential of being one of the best in the World at.

2) You need to understand how to monetize that thing ie: what is its economic 'engine'?

3) You need to *do* those things, and only those things, that you are deeply passionate about.

That's it.  Three overlapping circles and in the middle of it your *thing*, your 'hedgehog concept' or, as I've always thought of it, your *calling*.

What is your calling?

Lemme' tell you, I've been doing some serious thinking as a result of this book and this concept. On the one hand what I'm finding (as I think about my life and calling) is that I'm not *that* far off-course but I'm certainly off course.  

The hard part (as he discusses in the book) is being ruthlessly honest about what you're gifted and NOT gifted to do and then finding the strength, courage and discipline to say 'no' to those things that you *could* do but are outside of what you are *supposed* to do.

Heavy.

He also says that most of the companies he researched for the book took FOUR years to 'discover' their *calling*.

Four years.

Eerily similar to what I've been going through the past half-decade.

It's not that I didn't know what I was called to do, it's that I got distracted (by any number of factors) along the way.

Time to re-focus.

Thank you Jim Collins.

T

Reflections on an Ordination...

Okay, so there's a few ways to look at this...

1) It's going to KILL my showbiz career, 'cause--I mean--who wants to hire a REVEREND to write or produce their next movie?

2) It's going to really HELP my church career, 'cause--I mean--with my showbiz career tanking I'm going to be forced to (after 17 years of trying to be bi-vocational) put all my eggs in one basket.

3) It's just a TITLE, I've been doing the same work forever, doesn't MATTER what you call me.

So why couldn't I stop crying yesterday?

I dunno'.

Part of it was me 'resigning' myself to simply being who I feel like God told me to be (whoops, there goes the showbiz career again...) when I was 11. Part of it was just the typical reaction I have when the Holy Spirit shows up palpably in a room. 

I dunno'.

It was a special day.

We PACKED (almost) THE WELL out.  It was really nice to see the room full.  We had people scrambling to go get more chairs once the service started 'cause people just kept filing in.

A sign of things to come, I thought.

Worship was sweet.

I preached well.

The Ghost (GodtheGhost) was there in a way you could feel.  I could see people crying all throughout the sermon.

A special day.

My Grandpa (the saint) read Scripture like it's meant to be read.  My brother and sister led worship. My Dad prayed my Ordination prayer and had to stop twice he was so overcome.

My wife and kids were there with me.

It was a nice day.

I could 'feel' like the people in the room, the people (visitors excepted) who are starting to make THE WELL their church home, were 'feeling' what was happening and feeling like it was something special and that their baby church is gonna' be more than just alright in days to come.

I felt tired today, 'cause of yesterday.

Very tired.

Didn't get much done.

Gonna' go to sleep early so I can get up at 5:50am tomorrow and starting working like a man with a 'title' to defend.

Rev. T

Watching...

Huge day this past Sunday.

Yes, Church was good, but not huge.  We're still summer-bound.

But the WIND and, especially, the waves (after church) were.

HUGE.

Took the fam' out into full-on ocean conditions.  The rollers coming in from the East were at least five to maybe seven feet and the wind was a steady 12-15 knots. We'd approach one wave, pitch way up, then come crashing down the backside sending spumes of spray up from the bow, some of them reaching all the way back to my family, who were perched on the rail, taking it all in.

They were watching for the waves.

Waiting for the next one to come and take us for a ride.

Just like me.

Waiting for the wave.  Waiting for all the momentum of my life to amount to something.

And here's the point for me today. My kids (and wife) were squealing and laughing between the waves, enjoying every minute of the ride.

That's what I should be doing.  Enjoying the ride, squealing with delight at every new twist, turn, pitch and yaw.

I *do* feel something coming, I don't *know* what it is, but I feel like it's almost here.

T