What really happened to me

Everyone has those moments. Making progress. Awesome things are happening. Reason to be excited and hopeful. And suddenly, you hit a wall. Everything just stops. Everyone has those moments. Right?

The last couple weeks of my life did not include live action role playing or pseudo-scientific experiments. I'm not John Locke; I didn't find a hatch or a smoke monster. I did not write any scenes where Professor Charles Xavier wore a powdered wig while the rebellious X-Men including Logan, Scott Summers, and Henry McCoy fought against the Red Coats. While I had fun writing out those four wildly improbable answers to explain away my sparse participation on the interwebs, the truth isn't so sparkly and fun.

I got stuck. I hit the wall and everything stopped. I still went to work and did everything I could to be a good boss and get my reports done. I still poured as much energy as possible into being an great dad. But when I was home, and everything was quiet, and I had time to write, I was stuck.

Truth is, I was paralyzed by fear. Because after the three little voices that make my world worth inhabiting went to bed, other voices started chipping in their unwanted worth. Some of them are very real voices that have faces and names. Some of it is nothing more than an inner dialog.

Voices telling me that I'm worthless. Incapable. A loser. Unreliable. Uninteresting. Uninspiring. All of it feeding into one of my greatest fears. That I'm insignificant.

At some point in the middle of all of this, the group formally known as The Start Experiment posted a challenge inspired by TWLOHA. To post a #FearVsDreams photo. This entry was mine:

And yet, for the past couple of weeks, I still allowed that fear be the loudest voice in my head.

When I got home from Cheyenne, I was stuck. There were tears and laughter on that trip. Joy and sorrow. Many hours in a car. Some less than desirable driving conditions. But the time there was freshening. I am extremely grateful for my parent's hospitality and the last minute transportation provided from cousins in Eastern Washington. I enjoyed seeing cousins and aunts and uncles that I haven't seen in a long time. And I was glad to spend some quality time with my brother, my sister-in-law, and their kids. Yet I still felt stuck upon my return.

I would try to write, but felt the only thing that I had to talk about was about my week in Cheyenne. In fact, I wrote a wonderful post based on some observations I had while driving through northern Wyoming that remains a draft in blogger because fear kept me from hitting the publish button. Afraid of being under-qualified to write about anything else. Afraid to write about topics that I really want to write about because I fear it might hurt some people's feelings. Afraid that it doesn't really matter what I write, because I'm insignificant.

Being a good dad? I can do that. A good employee? Sure. A good boss? I'll do my best. A good friend? Usually. A good blogger? Well, maybe. But not so far this month. I let fear win. And I desperately want to fight back.

Besides, that fan-fic idea actually sounds like a decent one. The Avengers, The Fantastic Four, S.H.I.E.L.D., and the Guardians of the Galaxy using steam powered gadgets and the best fashion sense in all of literary history to help the good guys win the Revolutionary War? Please tell me I'm not the only one that thinks that would be an epic novel.

Identity Part 2: Who Am I

As I've been on my quest to regain my health, identity has been a recurring theme in my inner dialogues. I've spent much time pondering my identity, because if one thing is clear, I'm not who I was. I've mentioned many of these self-identifications introducing myself to the Start Experiment groups I joined, in stories I've told to pastors at my church, in my quick introduction in my small group, and in my attempts to refine the "about me" section that used to reside in the top right-hand corner of this blog.

I am a geek dad and a professional nerd. I am a pop-culture junkie driven to understand the intersection between faith and pop-culture. I am a joyful noise kind of singer (with an emphasis on noise), a sloppy and undisciplined guitarist, and a funky white boy with no sense of rhythm. I'm a former actor who still loves the theater, a former architecture student who still loves drafting and design, and a former graphic artist who has lost his touch. I have an artist's heart with very little artistic talent. I am a pessimistic optimist or an optimistic pessimist. I love being around people as much as I love being alone. I am somehow both shy and outgoing. I am a walking contradiction. I have a self-deprecating sense of humor. I'm chubby but skinnier than I used to be. I am a broken and deeply wounded man on a long and arduous path to healing. I am relearning what it means to be healthy. I aim for the high road but often miss it.

I am a child of God.

That last one is difficult for me. I believe it and I try to live it. But when it comes to defining who I am, God's child is toward the end of my list. I'm more likely to point out my flaws than I am to point toward God. I'm much like Jeremiah when he first met God - not really sure how to describe himself. Who am I? I am nothing.

I should know better. My faith is such an important part of my life. Yet, I let too many other things cloud my identity. Please, tell me I'm not alone.

Identity Part 1: Who Are You

"Who are you?"
"I'm Nic."
"No, that's your name. Who are you?"
"I'm a data analyst."
"No, that's your job. Who are you?"
"I'm a dad."
"No that's your duty. Who are you?"
"I'm a pop culture junkie."
"That's how you use your free time. Who are you?"
"I'm nothing."
"Who told you that? Your identity is in me. Your esteem should be found in me. You are my child worth more than you could conceive."

I can imagine a conversation like this between God and Jeremiah. God keeps asking "Who are you?"

Of course Jeremiah doesn't have the correct answer. "I'm Jeremiah. I'm just a kid from Anathoth. I'm Hilkiah's son. I'm timid."

He doesn't know his identity. God has to tell him.

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew and approved of you, and before you were born I separated and set you apart" (v.5 Amp)
"Do not say, 'I am only a child.' You must go..." (v.7 NIV)
"Don't be afraid of anyone, because I am with you to protect you" (v.8 NCV)
"You will pull up and tear down, destroy and overthrow, build up and plant." (v.10 NCV)
"Today I have made you strong like a fortified city that cannot be captured, like an iron pillar or a bronze wall." (v.18 NLT)
"They will fight against you, but they will not overcome you." (v.19 NASB)
"I am with you and will rescue you." (v.19 NIV)

When Jeremiah declared his weakness, God gave him a claim to strength. When Jeremiah admitted doubt and fear, God gave him confidence. Jeremiah saw anxiety, God showed him security. When Jeremiah said "this is how I see me," God said "this is how I see you." God gave His vision to Jeremiah. God gave Jeremiah value and identity.

What answer do we provide when asked, "Who are you?" Where do we find our identity? Where do we find our self worth? Is it in our jobs (or lack of employment)? Is it in our family? Our habits or hobbies? Why is it that we allow petty things to define us? Whose vision of us do we trust?

for the love of a cold shower

Yes, you heard that correctly. Cold shower. I take cold showers. Before you think I'm insane (and that is a distinct possibility), please understand there are reasons. Consider the following.

1. Increased production of cortisone.

The first that I heard of possible health benefits from bathing in cold water was about 12 years ago. There was a human interest story on some news program that interviewed the five oldest people on earth and asked them what they believed was the secret to their longevity. One of the subjects was a woman that lived in Russia's northern Ural Mountains. She smoked, drank vodka, and ate red meat. However, her little home was next to the Usa River near the river's source. She claimed to bathe in that river every morning. Researchers on the show theorized that the regular immersion in icy temperatures of the river stimulated the production of cortisone for this little old Russian woman.

Cortisone is a hormone released as a response to stress - and the sudden subjection to frigid waters can be stressful. The hormone typically prepares our body for either fight or flight, however it also provides short term pain relief and can be used to ease joint inflammation.

2. Helps overcome fear.

Serious about this one. Last fall I began reading through some of the writings of Joel Runyon and his Impossible Blog. He's a big advocate of Cold Shower Therapy. Yes, therapy. He proposed the concept that fear holds us back from getting started with big projects like opening a new business or losing some weight (a concept that has been seconded by Jon Acuff in his book Start). Joel's solution to conquering that fear is to start with cold showers because the thought of a cold shower could be scary, but once you start doing it you realize that it's OK. In his words, "You might yell out a few Tarzan type screams, but once you decide to do it, you lean into it and you’re not afraid of it anymore."

The act of taking scary cold showers changes the way you think because when you face something else that frightens you, you recognize that feeling because it's the same sensation. You experienced before taking cold showers. And if you conquered the fear once, you can do it again. Joel wrote a fantastic piece about cold shower therapy - you should read it, especially if your fear is holding you back from doing something you've always wanted to do.

3. It's better than coffee.

I know many people who cannot wake up in the morning without the assistance of coffee. I happen to be related to a few of those people. Please don't misunderstand me, coffee is good. I'm not trying to say you need to give up drinking coffee - I still drink it myself.

But, do you know what's cheaper than a daily Starbucks habit? Cold showers. You know what is more effective than any caffeinated beverage? Cold showers. Nothing wakes you up quicker in the morning than standing under a falling stream of water that feels like it has been teleported from deepest and darkest recesses of space (or as Joel Runyon phrased it "we-just-piped-this-water-in-from -Antarctica-because-the-penguins-won’t-swim-in-it-cold"). As a side benefit, it also encourages shorter showers and less less water waste.

4. Burn more calories while showering.

A few years ago, some researchers wrote and published an article through PLOS titled Human Skeletal Muscle Mitochondrial Uncoupling Is Associated with Cold Induced Adaptive Thermogenesis. It's an fascinating read (if scholarly scientific studies are your thing) that points out a few interesting ideas.

The article focuses on the role that brown adipose tissue (AKA, brown fat) plays in the human body. Some of it has tangible research. Some of it is theoretical. But the short explanation of the data shows that exposure to cold stimulates brown fat and increases energy use. In other words - it buns more calories. This suggests that cold therapies could be used as a weight loss strategy. Exposing yourself to colder temperatures increases the amount of calories being burned; it accelerates your metabolism.

Part of the reasoning behind the changes to metabolism is due to the difference between your body temperature and the water's temperature. According to the laws of thermodynamics, everything seeks equilibrium. In order to counteract the effect the cold shower has on your internal temperature, your body reacts by increasing heat. That thermogenic process means your body is working harder, improving your ability to burn fat.

5. No more after-shower shock.

Do you know what was my least favorite part of taking hot showers? That moment when I opened the shower curtain to the cold bathroom air. It doesn't matter if the bathroom is heated, the air outside the shower is always colder than the steam and water inside the shower.

But with cold showers, I'm all ready cold when I step out. There is no difference between the frigid water and the chilly air. No bracing shock as you step out of the shower. I'm all ready acclimated to the icy feeling during the shower so I can just step out, towel off, and carry on. Plus, the bathroom mirror isn't steamed over.



There you have it. Cold showers are a good thing. Facing fear and losing weight. I've lost 16 pounds over the past couple of months. Granted, cold shower therapy is not my only weight loss strategy. I'm eating healthier and exercising more. But I believe that my weight loss journey is more successful because I decided to turn the dial down from Mordor to Hoth.

Summer Soundtrack

The kids are all back in school. While summer might technically be in effect, as far as I'm concerned, it ended when the school bells started ringing.

Last year, about this time, I posted the soundtrack to my summer. I'm doing the same thing again. While last year's mix had a predominantly indie rock/Americana feel to it, this year's selection is far more influenced by electronic music. Agree or disagree, but these are the songs I had pumping through my speakers and headphones all summer long.


1. Timeflies - I Choose You - Synth heavy with a little bit of vocal manipulation. Heard this for the first time while driving back from Spokane after a late dinner with friends. With the beat and that "Everybody needs somebody to love" hook, this was an instant cranked up with the windows down song for me.

2. OneRepublic - Counting Stars - OneRepublic is one of those bands that seems to be genetically engineered for radio airplay. Honestly, I don't care. I love this band and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Ryan Tedder is easily one of the most talented songwriters in pop music and if they keep churning out songs like this, I'll remain a fan.

3. Family Force 5 - Chainsaw - If OneRepulic is the band I'm not ashamed to admit I love, FF5 is more of the guilty pleasure. Their music is unquestionably cheesy and ridiculously fun. Their videos are over the top and they're a blast to see live. I can't wait for the next time I can catch one of their shows just so I can see them do this song.

4. Avicii - Wake Me Up - "I can't tell where the journey will end, But I know where to start" This song is easily the anthem for all of my #StartExp peeps. "All this time I was finding myself, And I didn't know I was lost"

5. Capital Cities - Safe and Sound - This song just makes me happy. And that guy's beard? It's fabulous.

6. Citizens - Made Alive - When I look at Christian subculture, I'm encouraged that some of the most creative musice is being written and recorded by worship leaders. Like this one. Funky bass lines and drum rythms. Melodies that are uncommon among Sunday morning services. And again with a fantastic beard that could make all hipsters jealous.

7. We As Human - We Fall Apart - So there once was this little band from Sandpoint Idaho that got themselves a record deal, moved to Nashville, and started releasing some beautiful tunes. I find myself singing along with this every time it's on the radio.

8. Robert DeLong - Happy - Another track that makes me feel exactly the title of this song. It also makes me happy to see music like this coming out of the Seattle area. With artists like this, I long to be home again.

9. John Fogerty - Mystic Highway - Fogerty is a rock legend. His newest album (Wrote A Song For Everyone) pairs him up with musicians from both rock and country to reinvent a few Creedence classics and breathe life into some new songs. The album is one of my favorite albums of the year and this track makes me think of summertime road trips, sunsets, beaches, and campfires.

10. Fellowship Creative - Future Back - Music like this defines what I think summertime music should be. Upbeat. Hopeful. Sing-a-long hooks. Catchy melodies. This. So much this.

11. Fall Out Boy - My Songs Know What You Did In the Dark (Light Em Up) - Fall Out Boy is a ridiculous band. And the video for this song is truly bizarre. That being said, this is what I've been listening to while exercizing this summer.

12. Daft Punk - Get Lucky - I'm pretty sure most people were playing this song all summer. Inescapable. I'm a big fan of Daft Punk and this song was not a disappointment. Now I just wish every radio station on planet earth would stop playing it so that the entirety of popular culture doesn't grow sick of it.

The next few songs are honorable mentions as they were released in 2012. But I've listened to them more these past few months than I did when they first came out.

13. Youngblood Hawke - We Come Running - I've been playing this song for much the same reason as Future Back: upbeat, hopeful, and insanely catchy.

14. Macklemore & Ryan Lewis with Ray Dalton - Can't Hold Us - I once joked about wanting to slow my car down when I see someone running along the road just to drive behind them with this song volume up at full blast and my windows down. Give them some motivation music. I'll never do it, but it is another song that I've been listening to while working out.

15. Zedd and Foxes - Clarity - Not only one of the songs I listened to the most this summer, Clarity is also one of the most recent additions to the soundtrack of my life. The chorus is also one of the most poignant lyrics in modern EDM. "If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?"



ps: I'm waiting for one of those A+B DJs to mash up Clarity and My Songs Know What You Did In the Dark. Those two songs sound like they were meant to blend together.

I never wanted to be famous

There was a phase where I had stars in my eyes. But it was just a phase. At that age when most kids had big plans to get rich or make a name for themselves, I was studying architecture. Learning about building codes and blueprints eclipsed the desire for a spotlight. So, that title might be a bit of a misnomer. I never really wanted to be famous.

As my dreams became more realistic and mildly tangible, I've held on to some wildly absurd aspirations.

I never wanted to be a rock star.
But I always wanted to have friends who were.
I never wanted to be a filmmaker.
But I always wanted to have friends who made movies.
I never wanted to be an accomplished author.
But I always wanted to have friends who wrote books.
I never wanted to have my artwork in a gallery.
But I've always wanted to see art from my friends displayed.
I never wanted to be President.
But I've always wanted to be friends with one.
I never wanted to be instantly recognizable anywhere in the world.
But I've always wanted to be stopped by strangers because they recognize my friend.

As I've grown older and truly discovered who I am, I've come to recognize that I find more personal satisfaction in helping others be successful than I do in my own personal successes.

And maybe that's just how I measure my success. By helping others take that next step, by helping them reach their goals.

I want to be that guy that reads through the liner notes of a new album or the acknowledgments of a book and find my name among the list of people thanked.

I want to be that guy that helps a struggling bar band find a bigger audience.
I want to be that guy who helps an indie director debut their first film at a festival.
I want to be that guy encouraging a talented storyteller to put their words onto paper so that it may someday be read by millions.
I want to be that guy that finds new venues for the starving artist to showcase their work.
I want to be that guy that helps the amateur turn pro.

And that might make me weird.

A couple of weeks ago, I started watching Long Way Round. At the very beginning of the first episode, Ewan McGregor said "I wasn't driven toward being famous."

Yes! I'm not alone.

McGregor's full monologue: "I like being successful because that's a mark of my work. But I wasn't driven toward being famous. I'm glad that's the case because you can be satisfied with success but I don't think you'll ever be satisfied with fame because you'll never be famous enough."

That makes sense to me. I'm willing to let my involvement in the successes of others be the mark of my work. I'm at that point in my life where that is enough for me, and I can be satisfied with that.

What's different?

Due to my audacious risk, there are some things that must change. If I'm going to get healthy, I will need to do things differently than the way I usually operate.

So, what's different?

Keep in mind, that I've set this ridiculous goal to not only improve my physical health by losing weight. My true end is a holistic perspective - to heal emotionally along with the physical aspect.

I've long had the opinion that everyone has five different aspects to their lives that are all interconnected and a lack in one will affect the others. If you're sick, you don't typically want to go hang out with friends. If you're struggling with self esteem, the will to exercise or eat healthy foods is weakened. Everything is connected.

So, what's different?

Here are those five areas with notes of what I'm doing different. This is my track to getting back to the person that I once was.

Physical: Exercise has become a priority. I'm spending more time outside, taking regular walks with increasing pace (might actually start running one of these days). No more elevator at work. I'm also doing yoga with the kids.

Social: Geekery. Some friends of mine host a bi-weekly (ish) event at their place for the nerds like us to gather and celebrate the fact that we're all geeks.

Spiritual: I've mentioned before how I've struggled fitting in - especially in a church setting. That's changing. I've returned to the church that I attended a few years ago - where I used to volunteer as a youth leader and was able to connect on some level with most of the church leadership. The kids and I go on Friday nights - which is also the night that the church serves ice cream sundaes after the service. In the few weeks since I've made that switch, I'm all ready feeling more connected and engaged.

Mental: I'm forcing myself to write more. Even if it's utter crap that no one will ever see, I'm putting words onto paper. My plans. My dreams. My fears. Random thoughts. It's making my mind work a little overtime so that it's able to handle all of the other stuff that comes up during the course of the day.

Emotional: This is all about rest. Finding moments during the day to take a breather - to mentally check out long enough to stay focused on what needs to get done. And since I'm going to church on Friday nights, I'm finally able to treat Sundays like a Sabbath. Sunday is my day of rest, the day that I do nothing. No church, no chores, no work. Just rest.

Disclaimer: I'm not claiming perfection in any area of my health. Reality shows I stil have a long way to go. This is just my start. Baby steps.

Who I was. Who I am. Who I will be.

Earlier this week, I shared a bit more than I would normally admit. I've set some goals that are ridiculously absurd. Audacious. I'm investing my time to recapture the man that I once was. And it scares the crap out of me.

My first goal is to get skinny again. The reasons should be obvious.

But that's just my physical health. I need to do so much more than just lose weight. I need to rediscover myself. The man I was before I became the man I am.

If I could do that...

A new risk

Round two of Jon Acuff's Start Experiment began today. Round one spawned Coeur Creative. That will continue to be a thing, but I needed to have a different risk for these next 24 days. 

When I submitted the survey to participate in the second trip through the Start Experiment, I listed my risk as getting my health under control. 

My original thought was to lose a few pounds - something that I've tried to do over the past handful of years with dubious degrees of success. But today has made me think different. 

The thought behind the Start Experiment and Jon's book Start is to move from Average to Awesome. I made some awesome mistakes in the first round, but that's something to learn and build from. 

With round 2, average would be staying in the same physical condition that I am today. Awesome would be losing weight. I didn't even think up a goal weight as I'd consider anything less than where I am today is an improvement. 

Then came Jon's challenge for today. We're no longer shooting for awesome, we're aiming for audacious.

What does it mean for my health to be audacious. The only thing I can think of is to drop down to the size I was was Bekah and I got married. I was a skinny punk back then. 

That's audacious. 

However, if I'm going to fix my health, it's going to be more than my weight. I've not been myself lately. It's been a while, really. That needs to change. 

Losing a bunch of weight is audacious. 

Getting back to happy is audacious. 

Rediscovering my identity is audacious. 

Letting my geek flag fly is audacious. 

These next few weeks, I'm starting to do more than pursue better physical health. It's about my emotional health. And my spiritual health. And my social health. 

That's audacious. 

My empty room

About five years ago, Jon Acuff put together an event at the Catalyst Conference in Atlanta. He was prepared for a large crowd. Two people showed up. He owned it. He used it as a learning experience. Then he wrote about it so that the thousands and thousands of people who visit his blog could see what it felt like to be alone in a room you expected to be fuller.

Flash forward to the present. Jon has now published a few best sellers and regularly speaks in front of large audiences. Following the release of his most recent book, 'Start,' he put together the Start Experiment that I blogged about last Saturday. My risk was to start an artist's support network, and the first step in that risk was to stage a meetup event. Risk comes with fear; my greatest fear is that I would do this thing and no one would show up.

That first event was last night. What I feared the most happened.

That is a picture of me. Alone. My son and I hung out at Java On Sherman waiting to see if anyone would walk through that door looking for the 30-something with a fauxhawk and the 8 year old kid that looked just like him. No one came.

On the plus side, I got some awesome quality time with my son. I taught him how to use the camera function on my phone. The snapshot above is one of the couple dozen that he took in a whirlwind of photographic exploration. I won't complain about the time spent in Java on Sherman. The chips and salsa that we ordered were delicious. Java also makes some wonderful fruit smoothies.

I also understand the power of an empty room. It's time to dust myself off and keep moving.

Empty

K was our high school drama teacher. He also taught American history, but my fondest memories of K are from the MPHS auditorium. Under K's guidance and supervision, I learned much about the world of theater - auditions, rehearsals, and performances; casting and set building; improvisational games, sword fighting, and breaking props. With K, fellow stage crew, and cast members, we endured an unexpected natural disaster. On stage, off stage, or back stage, K remains one of the few teachers who has had the most influence in my life.

K wasn't the only aspect of theater that impacted my life. It was the room – the vast open auditorium. The auditorium was big enough for many occasions: school assemblies, beauty pageants, battle of the bands styled concerts, and so much more. I'm not sure how many people it seated, but when it was empty...

It's easy to feel small when facing such a grand empty space.

K often made us face that void; at times an awkward proposal. Long walks down the stairs, from the sound booth to the stage, ascending the few steps, and walking to center stage to introduce myself – my audience distant enough that I couldn't make eye contact. Monologues spoken to an audience of one lone observer. One year, I stripped the singing out of Steve Taylor's Cash Cow and preached the verses for an audition; only K and a few other students sat scattered in the auditorium. Simple words spoken to a limited (and sometimes imagined) audience.

At the beginning of many after school rehearsals, K would have us line up along the lip of the stage and recite our lines, or quote tongue twisters. (To this day I still can't get "you know New York, you need New York, you know you need unique New York" out of my head.) While we practiced our lines, K would stand at the back of the auditorium by the sound booth – the furthest distance away from his students.

Back then, I thought I was leaning lessons in theatrics. In hindsight, I recognize that it may have been more than that – what K taught us was academic, but his teachings were also life lessons. Repeating "New York is unique" wasn't just a daily practice in enunciation. K wasn't just teaching us how to talk, he was teaching us to be heard.

We can substitute quantity of speech for quality of content or use big words and never be understood. We can whisper, talk, or shout without notice. Our parents taught us to speak, but many of us have never learned how to be heard.

Maybe, K believed that if we could be heard in an empty room, we could be heard in a crowd.
If one distant person can hear what we have to say, we can be heard by dozens close by.
If we could face emptiness, we could face an audience.

Stage fright is equally paralyzing when no one is watching.

I have always thought of K as a gifted teacher. But now I wonder if he had a grander plan than we ever understood. That man behind the curtain not just preparing us for a performance, he was preparing us for life. In that simple lesson of being heard in an empty room, I am reminded of another lesson that I so desperately need to learn.

If I can be heard in an empty room, I can be heard by many.
If I can be trusted with little, I can be trusted with much.
If I can be content in need, I can be content in excess.

Sometimes we need to sit in an empty room; sometimes we need to face an absent audience.

What are you doing tomorrow night?

Friday nights in downtown Coeur d'Alene. There are several options. Tomorrow night, however, there's something new.

I'll be hanging out with my son at Java on Sherman from 5:35 until whenever for the first ever Coeur Creative meetup. If you're an artist in the Cd'A area - I've love to see you there.

Bring yourself.
Buy a Bowl of Soul. Or a panini.
Tell me what you do.
What inspires you.
What challenges you.
What you want to do with your art.
Eat. Drink coffee. Be merry.
Be you.
Be brave.

This is the soundtrack to my life.

Twice over the past couple of months, I've been challenged to pick out one song - the song that defines who I am or want to be.

The first came from a therapist. We were talking about using music as a coping skill. Yay! I love music. My iTunes contains the rhythms that my heart dances to. I have a soundtrack. Then she wanted to know what that one song would be - the one that defines me.

That's not a fair question to ask a music obsessive guy like me. I wasn't kidding when I said I have a soundtrack. There's a playlist on my computer called "My Soundtrack" that currently has 549 songs in it. Pick one? Is that even possible?

She bargained at a dozen songs so I went home and combed through that list - narrowing it down to 52 songs. Those 52 were culled further and I trimmed it down to about 20, which she said was perfect.

Then came the Start Experiment with Jon Acuff. He had been giving us daily challenges - some easier than others. 13 days in, he asked us to build our soundtrack. The reasoning is that "Every dream needs a soundtrack." He asked us to share one song with our group that would be ours. Again, only one? I call foul.

Luckily, that challenge arrived in my inbox the day after I posted the story about Steve Taylor's song Jim Morrison's Grave and the impact it had on my life. Task complete.

But my soundtrack is often revisited. It is the playlist that is currently on the iPod that I have playing at my office. For the sake of my emotional health, my sanity, my sense of peace and serenity, I listen to it regularly. It reminds me where I've been, who I am, and who I'd like to be. It is eclectic to the point of whiplash - a point a couple of coworkers have pointed out to me.

I thought I'd begin to share that playlist with you. Song by song. It won't be a daily thing, but you can expect it to pop up every now and then.

To start that off, I'm going back to a song that came out right before I graduated high school. Some of you might find this as evidence of my horrible and/or superior taste in music, but this song has always resonated with me. Perhaps now more than ever.



For those of you who know what's going on in my life, you probably understand why this is the first song I'm letting out as the soundtrack to my life.

I've never been so alone and I've never been so alive. (full lyrics HERE)

The delivery of a dream

An idea had spawned in my head: an artist's support network. I wasn't aware of anything like that in the Coeur d'Alene area and (at the time) did not realize that such a thing existed elsewhere. Like many of my ideas that have come and gone over the years, it stayed in my head for a while.

Fear told me it wasn't possible, or that I'd never be able to pull it off. The voices in my head kept telling me that I had no business helping people achieve things that I was incapable of doing on my own. While I enjoy singing or playing the guitar, I'm not proficient at either. I haven't acted on stage in 13 years. I haven't been able to draw anything more artistic than a stick figure since junior high.

But then an old friend contacted me to fill me in on some big life changes he's going though. We spent some time catching up with each other and in that conversation I eked out a semblance of my idea that sounded to him like an actual plan. He told me it sounded like a great idea - that it's something that's actually needed in Coeur d'Alene. We have an Arts Commission, regular art walks downtown, and several galleries. The annual Art on the Green event is happening this weekend. Cd'A is an artsy town. But most of what exists is built around showcasing art and put on large events. There is little behind the scenes support for the artist. Where do they go to get emotional support? To find resources that they don't have access to? To overcome roadblocks?

That night, as I drifted into slumber, the idea was given a name: Coeur Creative.

For a few weeks, I mulled that name around my mind. I pondered what was possible, what it would look like, and how to make it work. Yet, even then - with the vote of confidence from a friend - I was still too timid to do anything.

Until I saw a blog post asking if anyone was interested in a 24 day adventure. I read on. Jon Acuff - author of the blog (and some awesome books*) stated that the post would only be on his blog for 24 hours then he was taking it down. In that post, he offered a chance of adventure and surprises. He also warned that there would be risk and possibly dragons. If that sounded like something that interested the reader, he asked that we send him an email with our contact information.

I did something that the normal me would never do. I responded. Jon has a million people that read his blog. A little more than 2000 responded; I was one of them. As a result, I got an invite to join The Start Experiment. We were asked what we'd be willing to risk for 24 days. Some people set goals for health and weight loss, others wanted to launch a business or some other entrepreneurial affair. Many were looking at ministry opportunities. Several were artists, writers, photographers, or musicians. From there we were divided out into smaller groups to interact with - to share our dreams and seek support.

My risk was to to make Coeur Creative an actual thing. Get it out of my head and put it before others. To start helping artists take the next step in their dreams. With my risk announced to a group of 2000 people across the globe, and 20 others in my smaller group cheering me on, I've stripped the vocal chords out of fear's windpipe. I started doing something to make my idea a reality.

If I am to help artists along in their journey - the first step in my risk was to find out what artists need. I have some ideas of my own, but my own experiences could only scratch the surface. So I asked.

What would you like to accomplish with your art?

The responses blew me away. To get published. To create art that will be around for many years to come. To turn their part time hobby into a full time career. To make their art a primary, rather than secondary, source of income. To turn pro. To see a musical they've written performed on stage. To make people's live better. To help people tell their stories. To illuminate truth and inspire thought. To celebrate life. To make a difference and leave this world a better place. Bring hope to people, let them know they're not alone. To show others that they have a unique voice.

This.

This is where I want to be, surrounded by people with those kinds of goals. The survey is still open. If you are an artist, I would appreciate your feedback. (It's only five questions, 4 of them are multiple choice, and there are no wrong answers. It won't take you long, I promise.)

We're nearing the end of the 24 day Start Experiment. The final step to getting Coeur Creative started is an actual event. I want to meet you - the artists in Coeur d'Alene area. Or you if you want to make the 5 hour drive over from Seattle or the shorter drive from Western Montana.

Friday the 9th. At Java on Sherman. Starting at 5:35 and lasting until whenever. Head downtown, get a cup of coffee and hang out. I'd like to meet you and find out what you want to do with your art.

If you need extra motivation, I'll have my oldest son with me. Honestly, he's the one of the most creative individuals I know.

---

* If you recall, about a year and a half ago, I was a part of the Quitter 100 to help launch on of Jon's awesome books.

The catylist of a dream

After writing two different blog series about the church, an idea took root. Over the last couple of months, what was once just a dream, became an idea. That idea is turning into a reality.

I have a quirk. I'm not really interested in my own success. I derive more personal satisfaction helping others be successful than I do in my own personal victories. So I envisioned an organization where I could support artists in my community and be the catalyst for their success.

In helping others achieve artistic success, I recognize that many have hurdles too high to jump over. Walls that some might consider unbreakable. Roadblocks that might as well be dead ends. Those challenges may be a creative slump, writer's block, a muse that no longer speaks. It could be fear of failure, performance anxiety, stage fright. It could be time management - conflicting schedules and priorities. Then there are things that can't be done alone. That no matter how talented an individual might be there are occasions where they need a partner, a resource, guidance, support.

All these holes within the artistic community. Places where people need help. Over the past couple months, that idea has become an deafening roar. I can help.

I can be that person. I could be the hub in the center of the wheel that connects the individual spokes to the others. I could be the underwater ridge joining the islands of an archipelago.

Several years ago, my buddy Steve and I took a road trip from Boise to Seattle for an independent musician's conference. The conference was held at the EMP with appearances from bigwigs from Sub Pop and The Seattle Weekly. The highlight (and the reason Steve and I drove there and back) was to do a Q&A session with some really cool people. One was an A&R person from a local music label, another was an editor for an indie magazine. But the third person on the panel was the one I was most excited to meet and talk to: Chris Ballew of The Presidents of the United States of America. If you don't remember PUSA, chances are you were not alive during the mid-90s. (Millions of peaches, peaches for free. Anyone? Anyone???)

Beside the point, I'm getting side tracked.

The Q&A was set up for the panelists to listen to short clips from submitted demo tapes from the bands and musicians that attended; Steve and I had submitted the demo that Steve's band had just finished. After listening to about 20-30 seconds of a song (sometimes two songs), one of the panelists would ask the people that submitted the demo, "What do you want to do next?" Answers ranged from recording a better demo, to wanting a record deal, to building a fan base. Questions arose about how to self promote, how to find studio musicians for a backing band, and copyright issues. Steve and I asked what we needed to do to get noticed outside of Boise. Chris gave us wise advice: "if you can't make it in Boise, you won't be able to make it anywhere else." The last ten years has seen revolutionary changes for musicians. Websites like ReverbNation, Band Camp, and NoiseTrade have created outlets for indie artists to get their songs in front of new listeners with out the assistance of major labels. Crowdfunding has created avenues for artists to finance their projects that didn't exist a few years ago. These changes have made it easier in some respects, but at the same time it's made it harder to be an independent artist. Despite the changes with in the music industry over the past decade, the advice that Chris Ballew and other industry insiders gave to that crowded room at the EMP are just as true today as it was then.

Looking back, that weekend was one of the greatest experiences I've ever had. I learned more in those few hours than I could have anticipated.

The question asked of us is vital to the life of an artist - whether it's a musician or a photographer, a writer or a filmmaker. A woodworker or a painter. The question that must be asked is this: what's next?

What do you want to do?
What do you want to accomplish?
What is your dream?
What is your next step?

For some, these questions might be too big to answer - or at least too big to answer out loud. But, wherever the artist is in their journey - from the kid strumming their first power chords on a $150 guitar in their parent's basement, to the actress taking a bow after the closing night's performance, everyone has a dream. But not everyone knows how to take that step.

I could help people find that next step and help them take it.

The formation of a dream

In the 26 years that have passed since I first listened to Jim Morrison's Grave, my dream has been under refinement.

I took art classes in junior high and got involved with the drama program. I found my voice while on stage pretending to be someone else. Then I wandered away from my dream. Throughout high school, I had my heart set on becoming an architect. But by the time I graduated, I had been reminded of my calling from 1987. I had a plan to go to college for a speech/communications major then return home to get a job as a radio DJ. That plan fell apart as my family could not afford to send me to college. I also met some interns that worked for KNDD in Seattle; they gave me an eye opening glimpse into what it took to break into the radio industry.

With that version of my dream turning sour, I floundered for a while. I knew that someday, I would find my place working with music and art. There was still a kid inside me that wanted to be a rock star despite my crappy singing voice and limited guitar skills. As reality and adult responsibilities took over, I did what ever I could. Running soundboards for churches, concerts, and theatrical productions. Managing and promoting my best friend's band while living in Boise. Hanging out in recording studios while my friends recorded their demo tapes. I spent a little over a year as a DJ in Sioux Falls. When I moved back to Idaho, I helped teach a youth worship band how to play songs and lead worship.

Somewhere in there, the studio became my dream. I felt comfortable behind a soundboard. I daydreamed about how wonderful it would be if I were to produce a hit single. The recording process was alluring to me, but the rise of home studios (with software like Pro Tools and GarageBand) eroded the practicality of opening my own recording studio.

DJing is some of the most fun I've ever had while earning a paycheck. Since returning to Idaho, I've had three gigs, all done for free; my sister-in-law's wedding, the wedding of my wife's best friend, and a junior high dance party. My sister-in-law's reception is probably the best gig I ever played. After that wedding, while driving home, Bekah and I talked about the possibility of me DJing as a job again, but this time doing it on my own. She saw how much fun I had mixing the music, she recognized my talent, she entertained the possibility, and encouraged me to do some research. There aren't any wedding DJs in Coeur d'Alene. You either have to hire a karaoke jockey, or go hire someone from Spokane. The market here would be all mine. But I also understand the crippling funds of buying a mixer, amp, speakers, microphones, and lights - not to mention paying the song royalties that make it legal to be a professional DJ. All conspired to make it cost-prohibitive to start my own DJ business. DJing would also take away my ability to spend weekends with my family.

So, I've operated in stasis.

Then, two years ago, I wrote a series about the church. That we as Christians too easily make people feel out of place and how I've felt like an outcast most of my life. That we let ourselves get wrapped up in issues that don't matter. That we set unrealistic expectations. That we manipulate people with fear. We create unnecessary rules. And we end up pushing people away. I came to a conclusion that we can do better.

As soon as I hit publish on that seventh and final post, my brain started pondering about what would be next. I wrestled with those thoughts about where this would take me. After reading Don Miller's Blue Like Jazz, I marveled at the purpose of his church, Imago Dei - a church that values creativity and is populated by artists, writers, and musicians. It's the kind of church that I could have only dreamed existed.

It was the kind of church I wish existed in Coeur d'Alene.

My dream began to take shape. Someday I'd like to either start or take part in a church that focuses on ministering to artists. But that's someday. I'm not ready for that now. My dream continued to go through revisions until last October, when I wrote about the church's relationship with art. I walked through a brief history of sacred art. I explained how Christians involved in the arts feel abandoned and alone because of the church's tendency to put their artists on pedestals and hold them to double standards. I demonstrated a need for greater creativity within the religious community and explained why artistry matters. I found inspiration in the life of King David and in the words of Leonard Nimoy.

When writing the series of church and art, I came to the same conclusion as when I wrote my first series about the church. We can do better.

The beginnings of a dream

It started in 1987. My brother bought Steve Taylor's album 'I Predict 1990.' He brought it home and played it. I listened. I was only eight years old, but those songs struck a chord deep within me. Especially this song.



My knowledge of Jim Morrison at the time was limited. He died eight years before I was born. The songs I grew up with were 80s era contemporary Christian artists like Amy Grant, Michael W Smith, and Sandi Patty. And if we weren't listening to Christian music, it was The Righteous Brothers, Simon & Garfunkel, or Chicago. There's no reason that I should have known about Jim Morrison. I wouldn't start listening to The Doors until I was in junior high, but the eight year old version of me knew who they were. I didn't know much about Jim, but I knew he was a womanizer, an addict, and that he had lots of problems. Knowing that he was a hedonistic man was the limits of my eight year old knowledge.

In the world of black and white, I knew that he was not a good man. The song, Jim Morrison's Grave introduced me to an element of grey that exists in our world.

That's when I began to comprehend that people could be bad, but still be great at the same time. I began to recognize that people could possess incredible talent and influence and still be completely messed up. I got a crash course in the nature of the tortured artist persona.

I also began to question. What if?

What if Jim Morrison hadn't strayed down the path of depression and self destruction. What if someone had given him hope?

Those lyrics clawed at me. They've become a permanent part of my psyche.

I stay driven because there's nowhere to park
I can't shut my eyes, I'm afraid of the dark
I lie awake that stone left me chilled to the bone
Sound the alarm before it's done
Find Jim Morrison
Come away to Paris, let him see another day
Let him fade out slowly, only fools burn away
Let a true love show him what a heart can become
Somebody find Jim Morrison's grave
I get weary Lord, I don't understand
How does a seed gets strangled in the heart of a man
When the music covers like an evening mist
Like a watch still ticking on a dead man's wrist
Tick away

I listened to this song over and over and over. I borrowed the album from my brother as often as I could - frequently without asking. I bought it on tape in high school. Then on CD. And again on CD after the first one got stolen.

I can clearly look back and see the seeds of my dream planted back then. I was only eight, but I knew that I was going to work with artists some day. I couldn't escape the question, what if someone had shown a true love to Jim Morrison? What if his life hadn't ended in tragedy?

Those questions became more poignant when I was in junior high; I was in ninth grade when Kurt Cobain ended his life. I began to ask again. What if? What if someone had given Kurt hope? What if he had been able to break the cycle of depression and addiction? The questions returned again a few years later when Bradley Nowell OD'd. And again in 2002 when Layne Staley passed.

My dream was born in 1987. It's time for me to start doing something about that dream. My generation has too many dead heroes.

A New Start

Today is a new beginning for me. A challenge. An experiment. Something you may or may not be hearing more about over the next few weeks. Is that vague enough? No? How about - I feel like this kid.

There's no earthly reason that I should be doing what I'm doing, but dangit - I'm doing it anyways. Why? Because I need to. Because my perspective is focused elsewhere. And because reasons.

Much the same reason that my month of lists petered out and that my corner of the interwebs has been largely vacant for the past few months. There's a back story that I've not made public that I hope to tell as soon as I work up the cojones to do so.

But for the voices that keep telling me that I should keep my Kung Fu Panda moves to myself, the demons that mock my hopes and prey on my fears, the inner monologue that plays out like the offspring of Holden Caulfield and Marvin the Paranoid Android. For those causes, I took a risk. I made a choice to do something that scares the crap out of me.

I need change.

That was today. Just a start. A crazy - and possibly impetuous - start.


It's go time.