Saturday, September 28, 2013

Habits

It takes 2 weeks for something to become a habit.

How long does it take for something to un-become a habit?

Exercising, running, eating right, drumming.

Three of these four things are lacking in my life right now.

Well, four of the four if you consider the fact that I'm only drumming on practice pads and not on an actual kit.

Good habits always feel like they're so hard to reinforce, whereas bad habits propagate and intensify with little to no effort.

If the first step towards a solution is admitting you have a problem, then I'm on the right track.

Go reinforce a good habit, Glynn. Then do it again and again and again.

What habits will I have 2 weeks from now...?

...

Oh yeah, the Vater Manhattan 7A is out dueling the Vic Firth X8D at the moment.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Focus

There are a lot of distractions.

A lot of thoughts and dreams and plans and twitter and youtube and netflix and instagram and facebook and eating out and cleaning and the burpee challenge and running and paleo and... ad nauseum.

So you make time to focus. On what's important. On what needs to be done. On what brings you closer to your goals.

Cut through the white noise and focus.

Focus on patience. And energy. And that which makes you truly happy.

GO.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

It's a Feeling

I've been in a couple bands. I grew up in Southern California so that shouldn't come as a shock to you. There's a band in every garage and they're all going to be rock stars one day. There's something about ocean air mixed with smog mixed with... with...

You think too much. It should be more about feeling. Not about being clever. About feeling. Not about gimmicks. About feeling.

Things that last have feeling. By things I mean songs. By feeling I mean I can close my eyes and remember what it felt like when I first held my older sister's copy of Weezer's Blue Album. I can conjure the image of a teenage boy sitting in the back seat of his parents' Honda Civic blaring Helmet's Unsung through his headphones on the way to watch his high school play football. I can smell the sweat soaked shirt after that Ozma show at Chain reaction.

It's a feeling. And you can't always articulate it. Which is what makes it so great. And sad. And frustrating. And amazing.

Sometimes the best thing you can tell yourself is to stop thinking and start feeling.

Inside Joke

It's like an inside joke, and everyone knows the punchline but me.


I sit here. Waiting.


These tables and benches are so much more quiet after everyone's gone home.


My backpack is light today. Straight upstairs to the couch for me! Dad will be all set and if I'm lucky he'll let
me watch the first half of the game with him.

As soon as mom picks me up.


She's never this late.


Mister Mike is glancing at his watch again. I think he's a Rams fan, and kickoff is in less than 15 minutes. The 57 traffic shouldn't be that bad. He'll miss the first series, maybe...



... other stuff that I don't have the patience to write because I found a video about the 1989 San Francisco 49ers...

And I climb in to the car, and mom says, "I'm sorry I'm so late. We'll stop by Big 5 on the way home and get those cleats you've been looking at," and I was too excited to notice her swollen eyes.

Sunday, July 21, 2013

All It Takes is One Weak Link

One chink in the armor.

One crack in the dam.

Then water starts to leak and before you know it...

...

... there's no water behind the dam! (eloquent, Glynn... really eloquent)

Tiger Woods had a pretty bad final round today. Started badly, ended badly, middled badly.

He had a chance to get to 15, and instead he's still 4 back of the Golden Bear.

And for the first time in what seems like... well... ever... I thought that he might not get there. He might not get the record. He might just end up being a footnote. Not really because he'll go down as one of the greatest if not THE greatest ever, but it still planted a seed of doubt.

And it was solidified as they showed him walking up 18. As he was walking up 18, he was doffing his hat, thanking the crowd for their cheers. Then... he tripped. Not a full blown fall on face and pull oneself back up trip. A subtle, tangling of feet that was instantaneously caught and forgotten...

But that's the thing. The old Tiger would not have tripped. He would have been walking confidently. He would have been winning. It would have been a coronation.

But the new Tiger is beatable. The new Tiger doesn't put up a great final round score to win his 15th Major tournament. The new Tiger has a weak link. The new Tiger knows what it means to lose.

He might not get there. But I hope he does.

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Self-Motivation

Self-motivation is a habit.

Wait.

Self-motivation is a routine.

Wait.

Maybe it's a little bit of both.

It is, but it isn't.

Self-motivation is a habit born of routine. You have things to do. You don't want to do them. They can wait. You can procrastinate. You'll get to them... eventually. Except you won't, you don't, you didn't... And the things just keep piling up. Because you let them. And now there are more and more things to do and they'll be more difficult because you've let them sit for so long so aside from having to do them, you have to be reminded about how you didn't do them because you're lazy and it's a shameful cycle that's repeated ad nauseum.

So you try to build a routine that keeps you from procrastinating. And you try to take baby steps towards efficiency, towards a willingness to push through the desire to put it off and latch on to the little voice saying, "Just get it done. Check it off the list. Go and do it."

And this routine turns into habit and you go through a time period of getting things done and feeling good about yourself and living well and being that person. The person who is put together. The person who you like looking at in the mirror.

But then you become complacent and fall back into the habit of not sticking to the routine that built the better habit.

And you write a blog post about it because it's another way to procrastinate.

So in realizing that you've broken the good habit, you've reinforced the bad habit by neglecting the good habit.

Well...

Shoots...

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

If you want to become good at something...

... you need to be willing to be really bad at it first.

Are you going to have fun when it's not easy? Are you going to want to put in the time when you look like a fool doing it?

It's going to be really, really hard until it's not...

Guitar. Songwriting. Mountain Biking. Golfing. Running. Exercising. BMX riding. Customer Service. Singing. Parenting. Being a good husband. Drumming.

All things that you are good/ suck/ have potential... at...

Just keep moving in the right direction.

Monday, July 15, 2013

What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up?

... the correct answer is...

... the Boss.

My dad is a wise man. My dad is the boss.

He was laid off in 1991. So he became the boss. Those shitty circumstances ended up with him starting his own business because times were tough and jobs were scarce and the economy was lean. So my dad lucked into being the boss.

And sometimes you'd rather be lucky than good.

And now I'm a customer service rep and I offer support to sales reps and retail accounts and private consumers because the help is needed and the job is there and I'm good at what I do and I enjoy it... most of the time.

And I'm not the boss, but I am, too, and I should realize that. Everyday I'm the boss of what I do. And sure there's a boss that I answer to, but everyone has someone they answer to, that doesn't make you any less the boss of your own actions.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

I want to be a success. I want to be the boss. I want to be like my dad. I want to be looked up to by my son. I want to be comfortable in the present. I want to look fondly at the past. I want to look optimistically to the future.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

I want to be happy. I choose to be happy.

Hm. I'm grown up. Am I what I want to be?

No. And yes. And a million times maybe.

It is, but it isn't.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Hurry up and wait...

This is how it always happens.

I don't post for 6 months... then I post twice in less than an hour trying to make up for lost time.

This is how it always happens.

But it's not what works. It's not the way of the world.

Except it is. Because the world is not exceptional. The world resides in the middle. The world occupies the mediocre. The world is spinning and spinning and time is passing and passing and the world is content with its lowered expectations.

I know what I want to say, but I don't know how to say it.

The people who get ahead don't worry about getting it right. They worry about getting it done. And they're so good at getting it done that it can't help but be right.

Drip, drip, drip. Wise men work like this...

What do you want to be when you grow up?

You should want to be the boss.

We all have ideas. We don't all have the guts to execute those ideas.

This is how it always. Happens.

Hurry up and wait. You're so damn oblivious that you can't even figure out that you're waiting for a train that's already left the station.

It's for Future Me

It's been almost 6 months since I've posted in this blog.

I've been busy. I've been lazy. I've bee preoccupied. I've been lazy.

There is one way to make sure I blog. I just need to remember that it's for "Future Me".

This blog has 9 followers. And I'd be curious to see how many of those people actually read every post. My guess is closer to 0 than 9.

But there is one person who has read all of my posts.

Me.

And there is another person who, every now and then, every once in a while, every blue moon... goes back to read select posts, to relive the moments and thoughts and stimuli that lead to each post.

Future me.

Future me is interested in what past me has to say because future me knows more than past me but not really because past me had the guts to write it down while future me just passively experiences what past me was courageous enough to document.

Read the paragraph again.

Future me is my biggest fan. And my biggest critic. And my closest friend. And my most jealous follower.

I've written about running, about Chase, about getting married, about changing jobs, about writing solo albums, about sports, about the mundane.

And future me eats it up.

And I don't know what it all means. Damn. No one does.

But future me will always be interested in what past me has to say.

Because I'm nostalgic. Because I'm narcissistic. Because if future me can't be a fan of past me then what's the point?

Rachel's asleep. I like watching her sleep. She's beautiful when she sleeps....

Chase is asleep, too. He turns four this year. I think I have memories from when I was four...

I'm going to play guitar tonight. And I'm going to write a song. And it won't be for you. It will be for me. For future me, for past me, for present me.

Damn. I'm a selfish person.