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Disposable Days

disposableFor some today will be totally forgettable. Just another day filled with meaningless activities or mindless entertainment.

For some today is the most important day of their life, a turning point, a course correction, a pinnacle.

For some today is the end.

Some will live today savoring every moment, capturing every word or glance or feeling to relive in memory a thousand times over.

Some will say words they wish they never had and other have unspoken words that will remain that way.

For the young there is the illusion that there are plenty of days ahead.

For the old there is the reality that there are more days behind.

While everyday does not have to be packed with people and activity and meaning it is far too precious to be just tossed away because it carries the label….Monday.

3 ways to make the most of each day

My daily to do list grows longer each day.
Most days I run out of time before I run out of things to do. There is always something else to clean or read or write or create. There are always friends I want to call and catch up with. There are long walks to take and precious moments to spend with loved ones. There is always more to do. 
But I have found at the end of the day, if I have done 3 things I can rest quietly and let the rest go. 
If I have approached everything with the perspective that these are things I get to do not have to do, I have made the most of my day.
If I have made people my priority, I have made the most of my day.
If I have listened to my own heart and been kind with what I hear, I have made the most of my day. 
How do you make the most of your day? 


In the past week three separate incidents have occurred with the same basic theme…Adult bullying.

The first was a twitter comment indicating that there was something wrong with people who like milk chocolate. When I questioned the twit she said she was just joking around. I didn’t find it funny.

The second was a product that was lampooned by a nationally broadcast talk show and picked up on Facebook. I happen to like the product and find nothing sexist about it.

The third was a conversation over breakfast on Saturday where a woman at my table went into great detail about how ridiculous she thinks English people are for putting milk in their tea.

I am English by birth, Irish by marriage and American by choice.

I like enjoy milk chocolate.

I use Bic Lady Crystal pens.

I take milk, a dash of Angostura and one packet of Truvia in my Earl Grey.

That doesn’t make me wrong or sexist or ridiculous.

I just makes me me.

If my choice of chocolate or ink pens or tea is that offensive I’m truly sorry. But if I change because someone thinks less of me for these choices I will lose respect for myself and that is a choice I cannot make.


Are We There Yet?

Probably the most asked question emanating from the back of station wagons in days gone by and mini vans on the road today.

If you were sitting in one of those back seats it could be very difficult to know where you were in the journey and how much further til the next stop or even better to the destination. Sitting next to the most annoying sibling ever born could make a short drive seem like forever.

If you were the navigator this question could be taken as a simple request for a progress update which can be quickly fulfilled. Or it could be a challenge to your ability to not only read but re-fold the cryptic gas station guide known as a road map.

The driver, charged with getting all those on board to the end of the journey safely, and probably with a minimum of restroom or sight-seeing stops, may see this question as a prompt to skip the next four or five possible off ramps marked with services and gas.

Each day we rotate between driving, navigating and along for the ride. Sometimes our role is annoying sibling but I’ll save that for another day. And each day the answer is still the same….”No. We are not there yet! The journey is not over. We haven’t arrived!”

Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall…

Who Taught You To Decide?

So many choices each day. How do you process them all?

Who taught you to think things through?

Do you have a process or just take the path of least resistance?


Some times it’s just a cup of coffee.

Where do you get your content?

I like words that have more than one meaning. Many of you read the question “Where do you get the stuff you put in your blog?” But other’s may have read “Where do you get the stuff that makes you satisfied?”

Either way the question is one of filling up the blank space with something. Where do you get that something? What is it about that blank space that is so compelling and so intimidating all at the same time?

For writers the terror of sitting before a screen with the little cursor blinking is enough to make us figure out the settings necessary to make the stupid thing stop flashing at least. Something about it’s steady pulsing and inexhaustible patience is taunting and just borderline cruel. “I can wait…I can wait…I can wait…” It is only by my efforts to get my thoughts out of my head and heart and on to the screen that the little line moves forward and for a moment stop the blinking. I think it was named  a cursor more for the emotion it causes than for it’s actual function. I may be wrong.

Transfer that incessant blinking to the rest of the world and you get the massive accumulation of stress that is humanity. “Everybody’s searching for something” Annie Lennox sang. Something to fill the blank space of our closet, our garage, our bank account, our home, our stomach, our calendar, our days, our nights, our lives.

How fitting is it that between the date of your birth and the date of your death chiseled in stone is a sideways cursor that has stopped blinking.

Will you be content with your content?



Got any fish?

One of my favorite people is hitting

a mile marker this week and

she has come up with an

absolutely inspired way of

celebrating the difference

she can and has made

in the world

by being here.

So today I’m asking you…

Do you have any “fish” you can send her way?


Do You Hear What I Hear?

In an ever increasingly noisy world really listening is becoming a lost art.

I know you think you know what I said but

what you think you heard

may not actually be what I said.

When you add the complication of a technological advancement

to the transaction communication

can get even more garbled and impersonal.

Multitasking may seem like an efficient way to operate

but if your attention is divided

then the person trying to

give you information or extract information

from you is not getting your best.

This season of hustle and bustle and pressure and stress,

may I encourage you to really, really


Blue Like Jazz

Every now and then you read a book and go “Wow! That would make a great movie.”

This was the book:
And this is the movie:



And this is how I came to be an Associate Producer on this movie.


From the Blue Like Jazz Blog

This Day In History

This Day In HistoryExactly one year ago – at 5:13pm on September 26th, 2010 – I got an email with this subject line:

New Backer Alert! Sir Patrick LIttle has pledged $25.00 to SAVE Blue Like Jazz! (the movie).

Little did Patrick know that he was the first of 4,495 backers who would, over the next thirty days, raise a record-shattering $345,992 to make “Blue Like Jazz” the biggest crowd-funded movie in American history.

The ensuing twelve months have flown by, and it all still seems too good to be true: We assembled an amazing cast and crew. We had a magical time filming in Nashville and Portland. And we’ve watched the film take shape in the edit room and turn into something that, in test screenings across the country, is getting an even better response than I’d hoped for.

A year ago, this all seemed so impossible. And, of course, it would have remained so without the vision and enthusiasm of Zach Prichard, Jonathan Frazier, and all of our beloved backers.

So we’re declaring the next thirty days National Save Blue Like Jazz Month (subject to certain limitations beyond our control). Relive the excitement! Go online every five minutes to check the latest total on something! Wear your t-shirt every day for a month! Get your poster framed, then hang it on the wall of your city’s finest art museum and see how long it takes to get arrested!

And if you haven’t received yours yet, wait for a “Caller I.D. blocked” phone call, then pick it up and hear me gush about how we couldn’t have done any of this without you.

Because it’s historically true.

-Steve Taylor



I was one of the 4,495. I have my tee shirt. My poster is hanging in my office. I am excited to see the movie and what 4,494 other folks believed in enough to step up and invest.

If you look really fast, I’m told my name will be in the credits as an Associate Producer. I just can’t wait for it to come out on dvd so I can send it to everyone for Christmas next year.


Talk about taking a dream out of the clouds! Do you have any idea how much it rains in Portland?

Things Change

Yesterday some things changed. And there’s a good possibility something happened today that was different. Tomorrow is pretty much up for grabs. I’ve heard it said that the only constant is change. So why do we find it so difficult to accept? Why do we dig our heels in and resist?

There are whole departments in companies who’s sole focus is to create something new and different. Medical research is devoted to changing the human condition. Research and Development think tanks devote years to devise a better widget.

Is this moment, the way things are so great that you want to preserve it? Don’t get me wrong. Some moments are much better than others. But to be stuck there…I don’t think so. As great as your wedding day might have been if you stayed in that day you would have missed the birth of your child. As great as holding that precious child was, if they never changed you would still be changing diapers. Everything changes!

Even our memory changes. I used to listen to my father in law tell stories. He could recite the same story the same way over dinner every night for a week. He remembered the story but forgot he told it last night and the night before. It was on his mind and he wanted to share it. I learned after listening for a while that if I broke into his recitation and asked him a question the story changed. He remembered other details and the story expanded. Things he had forgotten came back to him. Not by the recitation but by the questions.

It’s the questions that generate the change. Why is it doing that? How can we fix the problem? Where can I help? Who needs me?

And when you embrace the questions you learn to embrace the change.

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