Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.

— Henry David Thoreau

I was talking with this girl I met at a party. She and I were doing the “Hi hello how are you tell me about yourself” dance and I learned some interesting things about her. She is from Wisconsin, and recently moved to Michigan after six years working in microbiology.

I didn’t know what that meant, so I asked, and my new understanding is that she used known processes about bacteria cultures to make dairy products like cheese. Since that was the only thing I knew about the subject, I found it to be pretty interesting.

That said, she elaborated on her reasons for moving away from a “good career” in pursuit of more education. Basically, she was bored. Using known scientific procedures was mundane and repetitive, so there was no “oomph” in her job. She is more interested in the research aspect of microbiology, where you’re spending your days trying to discover new scientific processes through trial and error.

I was delighted that she brought this up, because although I knew nothing about her career field, I could relate to the concept of feeling unsatisfied with your work. I’ve known many people who are working jobs they hate in order to get by, who want to “move up” but don’t because they’re stuck.

These people are stuck in careers where they quietly despise their lives. They are trapped in a negative cycle where they hate their jobs, hate their boss, and hate the fact that they must continue working every day doing something they hate in order to afford to keep doing it — and that’s just backwards. Why fuel a lifestyle that you’re not happy with?

It’s really refreshing to connect with someone who “gets it.” Even after six years in the job, she decided enough was enough and that she was ready to move on to something else. I respect people who are up front about their situation, and recognize how they’re in a position to change it if it’s causing them to be unhappy.

This conversation got me thinking. When she mentioned a fancy-worded career (“microbiology”), my brain immediately went in a weird direction, assuming she must be some kind of genius. Really, I was just completely unaware what it meant and consequently felt a bit intimidated by it.

Instead of nodding and simply assuming she must be smarter than me, I asked about it. “I don’t know what that is.” Admitting ignorance wasn’t embarrassing, and she seemed to appreciate my curiosity.

In the end, she wasn’t some new-age brilliant scientific genius — she simply had a different education with different experiences, and that’s to be expected.

The thing is, we all have some type of “Genius” inside of us. All of us are experts at something that we’ve done forever, have an overwhelming interest in, or have an undying passion for. Being a Genius is not necessarily having a “natural talent,” but having a genuine interest.

I used to think there were three categories:

1. What you are naturally good at,
2. What you are interested in, and
3. What you don’t necessarily like but do because you have to.

I’ve learned that 1 & 2 are actually intertwined, because you tend to explore things you’re interested in despite your skill level. You become a Genius at it as you get better and better, simply because you’re interested in it. Similarly, if you discover something you’re naturally good at, you’re more likely to be interested in it, and so those first two categories feed off of one another exponentially.

In all truthfulness, there are really only two categories: What you’re interested in, and everything else. Many of us find ourselves trapped working in the “everything else” category.

The trick is, if you can find a way to pursue your true interests in your work, then you can eliminate option 3 as well. You’re no longer biding your time, shuffling through a boring job, putting off what you actually want to do until later — you’re doing what you want to, and putting your Genius to work.

How do you pull this off? You have to know your Genius and do what you are. If you want to be a writer, write. If you want to be a cook, cook. If you want to start a business, start. If you want to move to Europe, move. If you want to be a teacher, teach. If you want to do anything, do it.

Of course, the majority of us can’t just stop at once and go off to seek our fortune in our new lives where we’re living out our wildest dreams. We have people that are counting on us to keep our feet on the ground. We have obstacles, debt, or other obligations that must be conquered first.

That’s okay. Having a purpose doesn’t always mean you have to dedicate every waking hour for the rest of your life to that purpose. The important thing is to HAVE A PURPOSE.

Identify why you wake up in the morning. Know yourself, and accept who you choose to be. Be willing to make sacrifices to push yourself closer to the life that you want. Be confident that if you put in the time, you will eventually get there.

And finally, don’t just hope that you’ll be successful at finding and embracing your passion. Remember that you can spend your entire life working doing something you hate if you don’t do anything about it. Don’t be afraid. Actively pursue your ambitions, identify your Genius, and put it to work for you.

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Everyone remembers where they were and what they were doing during the attacks on 9/11. Many of us don’t like to remember, though, since the event was so tragic.

It’s hard to believe that it’s been ten years since it happened. I remember going to breakfast by myself in the morning, and casually hearing that there was a fire in the Pentagon. At that time, I imagined it was an accident — caused by something like a cigarette in a garbage can or something similarly harmless. As the day’s events unfolded, I learned that it wasn’t.

I wrote two journal entries on 9/11/01, and they’re radically different:

SEPTEMBER 11 2001

9:35am

My alarm didn’t go off this morning as planned but I still managed to wake up when I wanted to.

Breakfast. The only meal in which the N-wing cafeteria is peaceful, because there is practically nobody there.

I like it this way because not only is there no line for the food, there isn’t a crowd of people surrounding the omelette station. I made a killer american cheese and canadian bacon omelette, had some corn pops, and some orange juice.

I’m sure it’ll help me get through my three classes today.

8:28pm

Many hours ago I believed today to be a typical day. A day that would fail to vary from yesterday or tomorrow by much more than the people I saw, the food I ate, and the classes I attended.

I’ve never understood acts of violence.

Terrorism has shattered our expectations as to where we’d hope human compassion would draw a line.

Stockton cancelled classes and held a service for those who fell victim to the acts, and my friend Sandra led us all in prayer.

She said we can only pray that our loved ones are safe, and know that those who lost their lives have gone to a better place.

I remember feeling scared and confused after word had spread about the planes hitting the buildings. I didn’t have a TV in my dorm so I spent the day holed up in someone else’s, everyone glued to the ongoing news coverage. My friend Megan was scared for her dad who worked in New York City, directly across from the World Trade Center. I remember people getting upset, everyone trying to contact their family, and a select few saying things like they’re “going to war” to “find the ones responsible.” I remember people rushing off to donate blood in fear of a shortage.

It was a bizarre experience unlike any other I’d had before. I remember people comparing it to the Kennedy assassination, and suggesting that we’d remember today’s events for the rest of our lives. They were right.

I don’t like thinking about 9/11. I often believe that the majority of the nation is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, myself included. Although we say “Never forget,” it’s hard to truly remember because it’s so sad.

I think it’s important, though, to acknowledge how it’s been ten years since it happened. I hope that everyone who lost someone has had time to heal. I hope that all of the brave heroes who rushed to aid the victims look back on the day with pride, and without regret. And I hope that eventually mankind will accept one another in spite of our differences.

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This day will soon be at an end and now it’s even sooner
And now it’s even sooner
And now it’s even sooner
This day will soon be at an end and now it’s even sooner
And now it’s sooner still

— They Might Be Giants, Older

Sometimes I know that I need to do something. I need to do it before it’s too late, before the day is over, soon, or right now. When it comes time to actually sit down and do it, I find myself doing anything other than the thing that I should be doing.

Procrastination is a funny animal. I’ll have this goal, and this general idea of a plan for how to achieve this goal before its deadline, but as the deadline fast approaches I waste time. I get distracted doing things that get me no closer to finishing what I need to get done.

Can you relate? You think “Okay, time to do work!” but then realize you’re hungry. You make some food, then figure you’ll sit and watch a TV show while you eat. Indiana Jones is on so you watch it for the hundredth time, commercials and all. It’s lunchtime now, so now it’s go time. But before you fire up your Word Processor let’s check email. Now Facebook. Oh cool your old college friend is talking to you, it would be a shame to ignore him. When you’re finally done fooling around it’s practically dinnertime and you’ve accomplished nothing at all today.

Time marches on whether we’re working hard, or wasting it completely. It is constantly pressing forward, and will leave you in the dust if you let it.

We live in the present, but the present is hard to grasp. We’re constantly “living” in our past and future, because we’re either remembering what once was or imagining what we hope will be. The price we pay for failing to live in “the now” is that we end up spinning our wheels for long periods of time, where nothing is getting done and none of our goals are being achieved.

Focus on the now. Realize that at this moment, you’re simultaneously the oldest you’ve ever been and the youngest you’ll ever be. Recognize that time is fleeting, and that putting off priorities until later distances us from the lives we intend to achieve.

I’ve been thinking about the passing of time lately for two reasons. First, it’s been nearly ten years since the attacks on 9/11. It boggles my mind that it’s already been that long. Second, I have something important that I need to accomplish before the end of this year. I’m applying for a creative writing program at a university, and I need to write 30-80 pages of a book-in-progress as part of the application.

I want to write a book, but I’m overwhelmed by the idea of it. I’ve started several stories, and I’ve written many chapters. Although I don’t always write things that I’ll end up using, I take pride in the fact that I’m still managing to produce new content regularly.

Still, I’m disappointed that I seem to be content with writing things other than chapters for my book. It’s as though I’ve discovered a new form of procrastination: Instead of working on my larger piece, I’m writing smaller, more manageable short stories. It’s good to be inspired, but ultimately I’m distracting myself from the task at hand.

I fill my head with excuses: “I’m strengthening my writing muscles,” — “At least I’m writing something,” — “I still have over four months to finish.”

If I keep telling myself these same excuses every day, eventually the deadline will be upon me and I’ll be royally screwed. I’ll have failed at my writing goal before I was even considered for the university’s program because I didn’t even fulfill the application process!

I’m convinced I can do this, and believe that I simply have to put in the hours in order to get it done. Why, then, is it so hard to spend all of the hours available focusing on the task at hand? Procrastination leads me away from the goal I’ve set out for myself, and if you allow it to enter your workspace for even one day, it gets easier to let it in every day afterwards.

The solution is motivation, but it’s difficult to get motivated when procrastination seems so fun by comparison. Methods for getting motivated include routine, inspiration, and even fear.

Routine: Getting up early. Eating a good breakfast. Going to the gym before taking a shower. Dedicating a set few hours of uninterrupted time to work with limited breaks. Being consistent. Witnessing your progress as you steadily narrow the gap between you and your goals.

Inspiration: Opening your mind to what’s around you. Keeping a notebook on you at all times to help capture the inspired thoughts wherever they may come to you. Combining ideas that don’t belong together. Running with ideas that make your heartbeat quicken and your mind race.

Fear: Envisioning yourself several years in the future, regretting any time that you wasted. Imagining missing your best chance for a great opportunity because you were unprepared. Feeling the sometimes invisible but always present threat of failure. Allowing these fears to fuel your drive for success.

I can’t help but think of the line from Fight Club: “This is your life, and its ending one minute at a time.” Despite my best efforts, the procrastinator in me will often ruin my plans for the day. If I let him do that for too many days in a row, my deadline will be here and I won’t be ready for it.

Right now, routine is my primary attack when it comes to getting things done. “Write something today,” has been my mantra, and it’s getting easier and easier to accomplish that. The big question is, will I continue to let myself invest so much time writing lesser pieces that don’t matter — or will I stop being procrastinatastic and accomplish something bigger?

Time is marching on, and time will tell.

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I was recently contacted by a LifeReboot reader who pointed out an inconsistency in two of my articles:

Shaun,

I found a large contradiction in your advice. FYI, I’m not pointing it out to be a jerk, but rather to ask which advice you’d stand by. In your Perfect Timing Doesn’t Exist article you say, “Seriously. You can quit your dead-end job today. Just walk straight up to your boss and say ‘I quit.’ Leave and don’t come back.”

In your 10 Things I Wish Someone Told Me article you say that people should NOT abruptly leave their jobs, and that you should give two weeks notice.

I’m curious, why the change of heart, AND which advice would you recommend taking?

I admitted that it was a good catch, and I felt flattered that someone was paying this much attention to the things that I write. I offered a quick explanation:

Jay,

It’s a good catch, well done. One of the things that’s interesting about writing is that as your perspective changes as a person, you may come to disagree with older things that you wrote. I find this true in journaling and blogging.

When I encouraged people to quit in my Perfect Timing Doesn’t Exist article, I was emphasizing how you have more control over your life than you realize. There are a bunch of things that you have the capacity to do, even if you may not give in to the temptation to do them. The tone of the article is meant to be shocking, and encourage you to leave a dead-end job if you must.

That said, I’ve done the “I quit” routine before. Then when I needed to get back into the working world, I found that I regretted not being able to list my former employer as a reference. If you wanted my opinion today, I would give the advice that you should always leave on good terms without burning bridges. Like I mentioned in my 10 things I wish I knew 10 years ago article, you should do your best to make the transition as easy as possible, smile and say thanks for the opportunity.

My conversation with Jay got me thinking. The notion of “truth” becomes warped when I realize how I strongly agreed with one mindset when I first wrote it four years ago, but I look back on it now and disagree. I remember the insistence that I had for my beliefs when I first left my “safe” job to be a full-time blogger, and I consider this less experienced version of myself to be naive.

I’ve talked about this subject of changing perspectives before, but I want to touch on it again here. David Hume’s “Bundle Theory of the Self” suggests that we don’t live a single life, but instead live multiple smaller, individually packaged lives with different perspectives and priorities. What you did as a child was many lifetimes ago, and now that you’ve grown up you’re a different person completely. The concept can be used for any two time periods in your life in which your goals, interests, and priorities differ.

Anyone who has ever picked up and read their old diary or journal entries knows what I’m talking about. You read your old, forgotten thoughts and feel surprised: I can’t believe I wrote that!

You can’t believe you wrote that because it’s not you anymore. Your experiences have caused you to change, and your older “truths” have been replaced with new ones.

To offer some examples, I’m going list a bunch of different goals in my life from various time periods. My apologies in advance, as they’re all over the map:

• I used to want to be a pilot.
• I used to think that getting straight A’s was the most important thing ever.
• I used to have an incessant curiosity about computers and how they worked.
• At one point, it was my life’s ambition to score over 200 lines in Tetris.
• At one point, I was obsessed with the AMC Pacer. I desperately needed it to be the first car that I owned.
• I used to think that working in tech support would make me rich.
• At one point, I thought Michaelangelo was the best Ninja Turtle, and that he was my hero.
• I used to think that I needed a job so bad, I would do ANY JOB AT ALL.
• I used to think that “work” and “play” were mutually exclusive.
• I used to think that I was too old, and that it was too late to learn a musical instrument.
• I used to describe myself as “the most unathletic person you’ll ever meet — so if you see me at the gym, that’s not me.”
• At one point (and this is really difficult to admit), I thought that I was smarter than all of my peers, and that I would consequently grow up to lead a more enriched and enjoyable life than them.

When I look back upon these older thoughts, I’m aware of how much my life has changed. Some of these older goals were things that I achieved and moved on from, others have disappeared completely, but all of them have changed.

When I revisit each goal and rewrite them, my current life’s “truths” reveal just how different my current perspective is:

• I don’t want to be a pilot. I want to be a writer.
• Sacrificing a social life in order to get straight A’s in high school and college is something I regret. Now, the thing I consider most important is doing work that I love.
• I am hardly curious about computers anymore, and am more often frustrated by them. My technical curiosity has moved to how my car works, and how to restore vintage arcade and pinball machines.
• I scored over 200 lines in Tetris once while I was pooping. It wasn’t that awesome. My new life’s ambition is to add something to the world — ideally, I’d like to publish a popular book.
• My first car was a Pacer, and although it looked cool, it gave me nothing but problems. (Thanks for helping with all of the repairs, Dad.)
• Tech support never made me rich; it made me unhappy. Furthermore, it taught me that if you’re choosing a career path because of the money, you’re making the wrong choice. Now I choose my career based on happiness.
• The Ninja Turtles are a distant memory. My new heroes are Stephen King, Rocky, and The Angry Video Game Nerd.
• When it comes to job searching, I’ve learned that the biggest turn off for employers is an interviewee that seems desperate. Saying you’ll “take any job” is like admitting you’re worthless. Now I aim to find jobs that match well with my interests.
• Many people work jobs they don’t enjoy, and then “play” on the weekends. There are a privileged few who love their day jobs, and it is important to me to successfully join that group.
• Although early starters may have the advantage, it’s never too late to learn something new. I can play piano like a champ, as long as I practice.
• My muscles used to stay toned without exercise. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten fatter. I’ve come to view working out at the gym as a necessary evil: Though I don’t always want to do it, I always feel great after I have.
• And finally, I’ve come to an understanding that I was never smarter than my peers — I was more egotistical! The way that I once thought college would guarantee me a great job and enormous wealth now makes me sick. After getting older and witnessing the success of people that I used to think were “below me,” I’ve learned that I’m not entitled to anything! Life is what you make it, and I am the only person responsible for the life that I’m living. Nobody is going to give me a free pass because I worked hard in school, I still must earn the life that I want by working hard every day.

My point is that truth is temporary. Your life and the “truths” that define it are subject to change, and they’ll change often.

The thing is, I’d actually be disappointed if I didn’t disagree with some of the things I used to believe. That would mean that I’m not opening my mind to new ideas, and that I’m not growing as a person.

When I look back on my past ideas, I may find some that I no longer agree with — and that’s okay. My perspective is changing as I live my life, and continue to learn from it. I haven’t figured everything out yet, and most likely never will — but right now in this moment, I’m confident that I’m on the right track. I wonder if my future self will agree…

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Alex Moschina mentioned something during his interview that I’ve been thinking about ever since:

“…the most effective cure for writer’s block is to stop writing. Because it’s whenever I’m away from my desk that my brain goes to work. If you can relate to this, try going for a walk or run. When you’re a mile away from your computer, notebook or even a napkin to scribble on, inspiration will strike. It never fails. Maybe it’s the endorphins, maybe it’s just your brain being a jerk. But trust me, it works.”

I find there to be a lot of truth to this. Whenever I’m facing a certain problem and I can’t seem to get past it, I walk away from it and do something else. I’ll start to take a shower, wash the dishes, or cook something when suddenly the problem I was facing has a clear solution. Inspiration strikes quickly, and I feel the need to get back to work before I lose my new train of thought.

The way that your subconscious mind can secretly do all of your problem-solving while you’re busy doing something else fascinates me. It’s interesting because for me, I always notice how my mind will race with ideas if my body is doing something mindless and mechanical (that is, something I’ve done hundreds of times before).

I’ll be in the middle of washing the dishes and I’ll start talking to myself. The words of the piece that I’m trying to write are connecting in my mind and formulating into sentences. As they connect in my brain, my ideas literally announce that they’re ready — telling me with my own mouth.

Inspiration is funny like that. Although my experiences with inspiration are different from yours, or Alex’s, the act of recognizing the fleeting moment of inspiration is universal: You suddenly have a great idea that came out of nowhere.

You’re immediately aware of what your next move is. You’re thinking of a new direction to move in, a new invention to make, a new writing prompt, a new project to start, or a new goal in life. Inspiration is vivid, fleeting, and the source of all of your best ideas.

Like the article title suggests, inspiration will strike anytime, and anywhere. What’s curious about the “anywhere” part, is how it doesn’t necessarily refer to where YOU are — it might also refer to where the source of the inspiration is coming from.

For example, tonight I was inspired to write a short story thanks to a video game. It seems strange to admit it, but I can’t help myself. Inspiration has struck, and as a result I’ve spent my afternoon and evening writing and editing images for you.

Stay with me now…

Minecraft is a “sandbox adventure game” where you collect materials, and then build things out of them. You collect most of your materials during the day, because at night monsters appear and try to kill you. You can build shelters and weapons to help defend yourself against these predators of the night.

In a recent Minecraft game I was playing, I found myself lost and defenseless at dusk. With no other option for survival, I climbed a mountain, the top of which could only be reached by burrowing into and up its center. I literally carved a staircase inside of it and punched through the top layer moments before the sun set. I sealed off the stairs I had made so no monsters could follow me, and spent the rest of the night listening to the monsters relentlessly try to climb the unscalable mountain slope, anxious to eat me.

When morning finally came and the monsters disappeared, I wondered if it was possible to remain there on the mountaintop forever. I tried to see if I could survive there, using only the few resources I had brought with me from the mainland, never descending the mountain to collect anything else. As I attempted to play the game with this new set of rules, the following story unfolded:

The View from the Top

Day One

I owe my life to this mountain. The creatures were upon me last night, but I managed to escape them because I climbed up here alone. I must have wandered a bit too far from the path, and got confused, because when I started to make my way back to it I didn’t find it again.

I tried to hurry and find my way but the sun fell low and I panicked. I knew the creatures would come for me if I didn’t hide, so when I saw the mountain my survival instincts told me to climb for my life. When the ledges ran out halfway up the mountainside I burrowed into the hardened clay with my pickaxe. My hands were bled raw by the time I broke away an opening large enough for me to fit into but I found my way inside and up. I blocked the entrance behind me, and pressed forward and up, alternating holding my torch and swinging my pickaxe.

The first slice of light from the moon above as I pierced through the surface cut through to my soul, and the whiff of air I tasted was that of victory. I pulled myself through, then collapsed on the cool grass at the foot of the opening. I stayed there all night in a heap of exhaustion, listening for the faintest sound from anything that might have tracked me. Although I barricaded the entrance on the side of the mountain, I did not possess the strength to fill the top hole. Adrenaline, I prayed, would give me the strength I needed to defend myself if it came to that.

But it never did come to that. I heard the creatures trying to climb the steep slopes of the mountain without success all night, while I fought hard to keep my eyes open. When the morning sun finally appeared on the horizon and the creatures disappeared, I fell asleep.

I woke up moments ago. The sky is overcast and a thick fog surrounds the mountain in all directions. I can’t get my bearings and I don’t know if it’s morning or afternoon.

I’ve looked all directions for any familiar landmarks, but see nothing I recognize. I’m terrified about how far I must be from the others.

I decided to write down everything that’s happened in my logbook, just in case I don’t make it back. Should someone find me after, at least they will know how I came to be lost. (And if you’re reading this now, my name is Shaun Boyd. Please find my family in the coastal habitat.)

I’m staying put for the time being, as I still have half my canteen. There’s a pond, possibly fresh water, less than a quarter mile away from the base of the mountain if I need more — but it might take an hour or more to work my way down there. Without knowing what time it is, I simply can’t chance it.

…

…

I set up a workbench with my inventory from the mainland. After some considerable debate, I decided to retrieve my torch from the hole and fill it closed. The mountaintop was my safe haven for one night, and will be for another. I felt a great calmness take over my body as I patted the fill dirt flat with my shovel.

Something strange I noticed, was that after I filled the hole, the grass seemed to immediately start growing across the dirt. It could be my lack of food causing my starved brain to play tricks on me, but I could have sworn the dirt in the hole was a few meters across when I filled it. As I look at it now, it looks like only 1-2 meters. I should try and eat something soon.

…

…

It was a good plan to stay put. The fog finally cleared to reveal the sunset. Now that I know what direction is west, I’m using some foliage from my pack to mark the directions.

I’ve planted an oak sapling on the west side of the mountaintop…

…a flower on the north side…

…and I put a birch sapling to the east. Tomorrow, I can descend the mountain and explore with confidence — even if the sun is at high noon. [Click here to read more →]

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