Quite the question, is it not? Not an easy one to approach without squirming in the seat a bit.

These days I feel pulled in so many directions. It’s not that I haven’t always been, it’s that now I have a greater realization of this whirlpool momentum. I have a more intimate understanding of the value of an hour and the worth of a hundred dollars. I see the inexorable way in which these small details add up. I sense how the big catastrophes and successes are nothing more than accumulated decisions and moments. I see how, when viewed in reverse, they form a mammoth shape that becomes its own entity, obscuring the bits and pieces that culminated into the moment of change.

Thinking on this topic leaves me with the inevitable feeling that so much of my time is wasted. This is not because the activities I choose are not worthy of pursuit. This is not because the efforts are vain or misguided. This is because they are diluted; because the difference between a good effort, a great effort, and a masterful effort are subtle details accumulated over time. Focusing them into a single pile, if you’ll entertain the metaphor, produces a single, massive result. Dividing them over many areas gently coats the surface but never amounts to a grand outcome.

My humility would argue that this is also a fine result and that the purpose of my efforts cannot be fully understood while immersed in the moment, with only one piece of the puzzle to examine. At the same time, I understand that visibility is power and power is not merely a force of evil. Power is the authority to invoke change. Change is the opportunity (and burden) to invoke a greater purpose in oneself and those touched by my words. But without creating a theater for my work, I cannot hope to achieve any lasting influence.

Thus, my scattered efforts and interests, my many loyalties, keep me from building the pillar upon which I could stand, visible to my audience, and offer what I have to say. And perhaps this is part of the Greater Plan. Perhaps this is for the Greater Good. For who is to say that anything I would offer would be more beneficial than destructive to those who would listen? Certainly I can’t claim such wisdom, standing here with one piece of an infinite puzzle, speculating on how the picture might turn out, based on which way I turn my pegs and slots.

Motivation is a strange thing for most of us. Today a good friend over at Flexbandit forwarded me a video that captures the spirit of our motivation as people. It also captures something that I feel is wrong with many businesses today.

Below are a few highlights from the video, which I hope you will take a moment to watch and think about, whether you’re a writer, animator, programmer, martial artist, or just a person interacting with this world of commerce and business.

We are not as endlessly manipulable and predictable as you might think.

Money is a motivator. If you don’t pay people enough, they won’t be motivated.

But once they are paid enough, money is taken off the table. There are three factors that lead to better performance:  Autonomy, the desire to direct our own lives; mastery, the urge to get better at stuff and achieve; and, a sense of purpose.

Companies that are flourishing are animated by [a transcendent purpose]

The video begins a bit abstract and vague, but then really gets into some interesting details. You should take a few minutes and watch this video now. And, for more detail, the one on TED.

I’ve taken up some freelance work at Examiner.com. I write local content for the Carson City and Reno area. Check out my bio and, should you find the articles interesting–many of are wider interest than local focal–or just want to help send my daughters to college, subscribe to my page. It’s free and I get paid by the subscriber and page view. It’s not a lot of pay, more pennies than dollars, but it does increase considerably as I get more subscribers and views. Being prolific is key to putting change in the pocket.

The main reason I like this idea is that it’s professional freelance work. This is resume building to be sure. If it paid only a penny an article, it would still be worth it just to have a couple hundred published works I can refer agents to during the query process. The drawback is that it consumes a day of my writing time. Hopefully the material I’m generating will help to hone my skills and make this part worthwhile.

If any of you writerly types are interested in signing up to provide local content in your area, please let me know. I do get a sizable referral bonus if you follow the right process.

As Marilee Swirczek said,

Writing is the act of selecting and organizing words–creating prose with words–with the purpose of providing the reader with an insight, or truth, into the human condition.

Yes, one can write simply to entertain or to produce a laugh or a reaction, but insight is the higher goal of writing, The Art, if you will.

There are many reasons people study martial arts: Some want to get in shape, some want self confidence, and some want to beat people up. Those who make a serious study of martial arts ultimately pursue a higher path: Enlightenment. There are many philosophies and analogies to describe what enlightenment means; because, like writing, it is unique to each individual. A simple way of describing it is thus:  The pursuit of martial arts is the act of selecting thoughts and actions and organizing them–creating prose with movement–with the purpose of discovering an insight into one’s own state or condition.

Both of these arts achieve similar goals. Both of these arts are vast, lifelong pursuits with an ever-expanding horizon. This literally means that the more I learn about each, the larger the field of possibility becomes, the more I understand how little I know. There is an odd comfort in seeking excellence in this way. Sure, it stings at first. This pursuit of an ever expanding target is much like the Christian pursuit of God. One strives to be like perfection, knowing that the effort is vain, that each step forward is still infinitely far away. But it’s still one step closer.

There is a humbling peace in this discovery. I can let go of feelings of inadequacy and the need to achieve and excel and to conceal my ignorance and failures. They are par for the course. The arts I strive to grow in are too vast for any to master in full. Wherever I am on the path relative to another, we are both still at the beginning. Another may be a horizon away from me, but still looks to an even farther horizon of his own.

And, with each new discovery of the craft, I may only grow one step closer to enlightenment; but, I also understand my companions for the journey just a bit more intimately, and find a little more capacity to love the diversity of culture and pragmatism that is a human being. It is all about the journey and nothing about the destination.

Not only do I find this GM hilarious, but I think that his very well-formed thoughts on RPG games relate equally well to a majority of characters in fiction.

The personal lives of Adventurers are an interesting case of sociology. In my experience, the vast majority of adventurers in fantasy worlds are unmarried, childless and homeless. They are philosophically aligned with “ends justify means” and use violence as a means to an end. They are constantly armed, often paranoid and generally incredibly rich compared to the peasantry, although their wealth is invested heavily in arms. They are generally vigilantes who make their own rules, although some are religious or political zealots who follow someone else’s rules.

Please click here to read the entire discussion over on Save Vs. Blog.

There is some anchor to the cold, when breath dissolves like apparitions, when I am isolated under layers of separation and false warmth. It’s happening again right now. This feeling in my chest that is so powerful I can barely breathe. It feels like I’m being crushed by the world. I’ll understand if that sounds cliché. But I know, from the depths of my being, the meaning of that overused phrase: there is a sensation of physical pain, like being trapped under a heavy rock, slowly lowering in bone crushing inevitability; there is a mental fog, through which even thought is exhausting; there is a sensation of everything that was once familiar, intimate, proximate, suddenly becoming alien, distant, distorted as if seen through shower glass.

Once every few years, the world spits me out. Oh, we fit for a while, mesh. Then suddenly, some unseen force forms a wrinkle in the space I consume. Pressure builds, squeezes, and finally ejects me. Spiraling into space, I stare at this giant, blue eye that is looking anywhere but at me, and wonder: What happened? Why has everything that was once simple become veiled? Did I cause this?

We’re like two people from different cultures who love each other with burning intensity, but understand absolutely nothing about the other. Every touch cuts; every word chafes. And every experience is at once treasured and invokes the cyclic question: “Why do I bother? What do I hope to get out of this?”

Once, this was not a problem. I just let go, drifted with the current. But now I’m tied to this place: family, job, commitments, promises. These are not so easily discarded. So here I float, obtuse, staring at this ethereal, blue eye moving away from me in space, tethered to it by the searing hooks of responsibility, slowly imploding under a mountain of pressure, paradoxically generated by what seems to me a vacuum of interaction.

It is here in the cycle that the demon of uncertainty rises from the back of my mind: These things are not for you. This family is better off without you. You will not be missed when you’re gone. This is not your world. Hard words to ingest because they are true in small ways and ambiguous in others. They remind that the world is not about me. They remind that my place is small and that I can be scrubbed indifferently from existence with little consequence. They remind that I am not in control of much, if anything.

I am comforted only by the thought that this too will pass. It always has. It’s something that has come and gone since I was little, when things are hard and I’m feeling stuck somewhere I don’t want to be. But there is unacknowledged fear lurking in this thought: When it does pass, what small connection with this unforgiving and impervious reality will be lost, never to recover? When will I eventually be so foreign to this place and it to me, that our polarities no longer attract?

This is candid speaking. I share it here because I think the deeper, core questions and issues this cycle of my life raises are the sort of stuff people are made of. It’s hard to share because it’s easy to fear that people will take this sort of free speaking as a sign of deep personal trouble (or just think I’m weird). So I encourage you to speak with the same freedom. Feel free to criticize; speak openly about your doubts; send a signal that, somewhere in that deep inky black, another life form is is staring down at this Earth and wondering if they might also be a square peg in a round hole.

In regards to your post…I think churches and museums are places for our minds and spirits to exercise.

I had a lot of thoughts on this; too many to fit in the comments section. So, without further introduction…

Sharon,

In a gym, you perform repetitious exercises, physical actions that passively improve your body. In a museum, you observe, although you are occasionally inspired to think, which is positive.

While I will grant that catholic mass does involve some repetitious exercise of thought and can–if you make it so–involve movement of spirit, most churches are simply observation. The purpose is worship and often education, but not fitness. Some involve a good deal of singing and there are exceptional branches which understand the need for participation, but this is child’s play for your mind and spirit. It’s like doing five pushups a day and calling your body fit. It’s like reciting your phone number and considering your memory healthy.

There are ways to exercise the mind and spirit if you search for them, but it is not a widely recognized need to do so. Even among the non-spiritual and supposedly practical belief patterns, there is no common pursuit of mental fitness. How often have you been reminded the importance of strengthening your memory? How often have you been presented with analytical problems or puzzles for the sake of expanding your reasoning and non-linear thinking? When was the last time someone suggested that understanding communication and practicing things like rapport, listening skills, or word choice could propel your personal relationships to a whole new level? Why is this stuff relegated to the realm of self help and fringe society? Why isn’t the need to upkeep you body, mind, and spirit part of high school curricula?

My suspicion is that our need to tell everyone they are okay just as they are has surpassed our thirst for excellence or even moderate capacity as functional people.  That our society has become so media, consumerist driven that the idea of thinking for oneself, seeking excellence, or–dare I even say it–wishing physical, mental, and spiritual growth and excellence has become foreign, implies some sort of deficiency or problem. (And we know that none of us have deficiencies or problems!)

It baffles me that more people are not engrossed with these aspects of their lives and the vast, vast world that is opened by pursuit of personal development and excellence of being. But then, being from a martial arts upbringing, there are many things about the goals and practices of others that baffle me.

I had a great deal of fun playing around with this tool, which generates random disorders for characters. It’s very simple, not pretty, and horribly addicting. My only worry is that my entire cast of characters I’ve created since messing around with this will never go on any adventure, but spend all their time locked up in the psych ward : )

Click here to try it out

Where are the fast food restaurants for the mind? Where are the 24 hour fitness clubs for the soul? They do not exist. But why not? We understand intrinsically that the body is a passive presence and that we cannot simply will it to be stronger. We understand that we must continuously perform actions that will, over time, induce subtle change in our body’s state.

Why, then, is it so hard to grasp that the mind and spirit move in the same ways? Why is it so hard to fathom that, to become capable of mind, to become strong of will, to overcome desire and habit, to undo cyclic depression, to grow our spirit and mind, we must think and want in ways that our passive minds and passive spirits are shifted into a more healthy state?

Exercise often. Think with direction. Feel happiness.

http://www.ted.com/talks/j_j_abrams_mystery_box.html

The mystery is often more important than the knowledge