Hard Hats

I heard this really interesting comment yesterday on the radio, Rob Lowe talking about being an actor, that if you are not competitive about it you may as well get out of the industry. Somehow that seemed at odds with the sensitive world of the actor. And then I watched 'The Apprentice'. As much as I can't bear the bitchy back-stabbing, I do admire the sheer balls of people who do everything they can to work that conviction that they have what everyone else wants, even if that is a weird product that no one needs.

Is success about selling something no one needs? And is winning about being noticed and picked above everyone else? No, we all know by now that's not true. There are alternatives to making money and having stuff, which I imagine most readers of this blog get. But if you are not bloodthirsty in business and ruthless in self-promotion, how then do you make this alternative project and big dream stuff work, materially speaking? I have a trip switch that flips whenever I'm faced with material competition, I just don't care, and it can be really counterproductive. Where will I find what it takes to dig in and make it work?

Let's reinterpret. Let's say competitiveness is actually strong courage against adversity. And let's appreciate that this conviction to go all out for something necessary you don't yet have—faith—will see you through some really tough moments. It makes sense that these would be qualities you expect to find in successful people, and it's their stories I want to hear – stories of courage, strength, faith in adversity and endurance for the long haul.

I found this picture of when I was making the angels project, and it reminded me that there is another angle on the building of big dreams that does not involve individual competitiveness so much as a willingness to dig in, push through and work damn hard to make a dream become reality. I suppose what it comes down to is the nature of the dream, and whether or not you really believe in it.

If you'll excuse me, I have a hard had to locate.


*nearly got knocked over by a gigantic bee as I stepped out of the house this morning, not as gigantic as these fellas though - lovin' the bees!

{Today's Soundtrack: The Bees - Every Step's A Yes}

Pretty

While we're on the theme of blossom and snowing trees...


{Today's Soundtrack:
Raghu Dixit - No Man Will Ever Love You, Like I Do}

Hello Blossom

In a curious twist of creation which keeps us on our toes and staring up, the trees have been snowing. Dry, bare twigs and branches have exploded with life and heavy boughs fell over our pathways with the weight of their surprising blossom, until they had their drunken fill and the petals let go so as to mimic the best winter could offer and sprinkle small, pale shapes all over the ground.

Life is pushing from inside—the secret place—to get out and grow in the fresh air. It seemed so unlikely, just a few weeks ago when we were cold, frozen and hunched against the frost, but tiny, robust little green things now point forward from high vantage in the trees and shout, "Go!" to anyone willing to listen.

When the trees start snowing it always makes me catch my breath – a reminder of where we have come from and how unbelievably this appears out of nowhere. If Autmun's riot of colour is life's swan-song in the face of Winter, then Spring comes to flip everything we thought we knew upside down. This behaviour is laughter in the face of what, or whoever says, "No, it is not possible."

{Today's Soundtrack: Bethany Dillon Acoustic}

Looking Out

There's a feeling, isn't there, when you're going for something that takes a bit of work, that it is important to settle in to a steady, long haul pace, head bowed and eyes to the path. Nose down, vision pure. Do not, at any cost, deviate from this path, rhythm or posture.

Surely this is like strapping blinkers on yourself though? A paradox, a grand vision sacrificed in order to realise a grand vision? So focussed and intent, so untrusting of the ankles to be strong against rocks and stones, that the next immediate few inches become everything and long sight comes to mean, or matter, very little in this short reach activity.

But is not the reason for the voyage first and foremost that very long sight? Is it not about the vista, the grand scale, the magnitude?

Are the immediate few inches not given their shape by the expansive miles around them?

If we catch ourselves looking at our feet, overly worried about the snags and potholes, we stand to miss the reason we are climbing in the first place.

'He will not let your foot slip against a stone.'

Trust in that promise; look up, and out, and remember why you began your voyage. Surely that will lift you, in a way, 'on wings, like eagles'.


*


My friend Harry and I were listening to Desert Island Discs this morning while we chatted idly about a few things, and this track came on. He - a cellist - described the intention of the piece, and its existing to fill a vast space. It seems very right for today. Listening to it this morning, it's giving me goose bumps.

{Today's Soundtrack: Vaughan Williams - Fantasia on a theme by Thomas Tallis}