Who are you?

Ok, that's the second time in as many days that I've been asked "Who Are You?"  I feel like I'm in Groundhog Day forced to listen to The Who's 1978 release of ... you guessed it "Who Are You" over and over again.

Ok, so apparently it's obvious to everyone else (well at least two people) but me that I haven't been myself lately.  Or at least the version of myself that everyone else recognizes, or has recognized for a while.  That lately I've been a bit off balance.  And that got me thinking (hey ... me thinking ... maybe I'm not that off balance after all): Why?  What gets us off balance?  What shakes us up so much that makes the room spin and gets us so tipsy that we can't walk straight?

Maybe its something that shakes our belief systems?  If that's true, then what exactly are our belief systems anyways? If our behaviors are just the physical representation of our emotions, and our personalities are just networks of behaviors then maybe our belief systems are the underlying opinions we have about our world that drive the whole darn thing.  So if something rocks your foundation, your beliefs, the table with which you have built your reality on, then yea ... maybe you're not you.

So maybe this is a change function.  If your beliefs are rocked hard enough, maybe you ARE transforming and you're not who you used to be. I've said before that

sometimes you need to kill who you are to become who you need to be

I know it seems like a harsh statement, but that's only because the outside world only notices the transition, not the new person you've become, because you're not there yet.

If your belief systems are just opinions you've built up about the world, these are opinions that have been colored by the past, by the comfort level of others, by old circumstances, by our internal critical monologues.  Just a set of opinions that can be rocked by an external shock (you know ... kids going off to college, the transition of a business, etc) or more powerfully by an internal realization.  A realization that what you once held as fact, as judgment, is only opinion.  An awakening to real truth ... damn that will definitely rock your world.

So here's my question: "What do you believe in so strongly that if you ALLOWED it to only be an opinion and not what you believe to be right or true, would rock your world so much that you'd be off balance?"  It's a tough question to answer honestly, but even the search for the answer might set the room spinning, and let's be honest, who doesn't want to be a little off balance every once in a while.

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale

Wanting is better than Having

I'm sure you've experienced it. The anticipation of a trip, the excitement of a gift, the thrill of a new purchase ... you know, the new computer, the new car, those new shoes, the jitters of a first date. But when you get it, well it doesn't quite measure up to the expectation you've setup in your head. The trip is more complicated than you thought, the new toy isn't quite as shiny, the date ... well he isn't quite as handsome as you hoped.  Buyer's remorse kicks in and you're disappointed.  The wanting, the desire, the dream was better than what is really happening.

I've been talking about this concept for quite some time with a very close friend of mine. Intuitively it makes sense, right?  I mean wanting is all about the fantasy, all about how you craft an image in your mind about how things will be when you finally get there (when you finally get the new toy, go on the new trip, get the new job, lose the weight, find the right partner ...).  Wanting is about the excitement of the unknown, about not knowing what's going to happen next.  The trill of the chase.

But is Wanting really BETTER than Having?  Or is it just easier to swallow?  When you think about it Wanting is really all about being in your head, and Having is really about being in the moment.  This is traditional stuff that Buddhism has really explored for quite some time.  It's about Awareness (see the Osho book).  It's about getting out of your Monkey Mind and getting into the now.  So the Wanting is really just allowing your Monkey Mind (see my blog post on the Monkey Mind) to spin out of control.  The Having is all about silencing your Monkey Mind and exploring the moment, not exploring your fantasy of what the moment might be.

I've been reading a new book (wow, yea, me read a book ... shocking I know) called "Taming Your Gremlin".  It's a great quick read that puts your Monkey Mind into the physical form of a gremlin and then gives you techniques to quiet that critical voice in your head.  It's the same idea, just packaged in another way to get into your heart.

So, if it's not "Wanting is better than Having" but exactly the opposite "Having is BETTER than Wanting", why do we get pulled into wanting without having so many times?  Maybe the wanting allows you to keep your distance (see my Five AM and The Distance blog post). Wanting is about you being lost in your mind's illusion, not in the moment. But having ... having is more intimate ... having forces you to be up close and personal (see my "Take that condom off" blog post) ... having forces you to feel your feelings, to look at what you wanted in the light of right now, and not through the rose colored glasses of your head.

So here's my question: "What are you fully committed to Wanting, but are afraid of Having?"  Is it that promotion?  Is it that client?  That car, that toy, that person, that body, that lifestyle?  What fantasy have you concocted that is so strong that you'd rather stay in your head, in that fantasy, than take delivery and really experience the Having? What if you decided to Have rather than Want ... how would your world change?  Would you be more in the moment?  Could you better tame your gremlin?

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale

Five AM

Ok, I've got a new favorite band "Five A.M."  They have a new album called "Raise the Sun" and I heard their song "The Distance" and that song hit me, especially the chorus lyrics:

It's the distance between you and me
Sometimes the distance is all I see
Sometimes it's easier to go, easier to leave
Than to cross this distance between you and me

Wow, I've been guilty of that one.  Putting distance, physical, emotional, changing priorities, staying busy (see my blog on Harry the Hamster), you name it, between me and someone else.  I've put miles upon miles of distance between us, them, me. If what the Buddhists say is true, that there is only Love and Fear, then what am I so afraid of as I lay miles of roadway to get away. It's obviously my way to bolt as Geneen Roth says in Women Food and God.

Distance doesn't have to physical, hell it doesn't even have to be real (I'm very good at adding another ball to juggle that will add more distance ... just stuff I create ... not real distance).  It only has to allow me to disconnect, to feel safe being far enough away, far enough to put a barrier up (see my blog on barriers). So as the song says maybe "sometimes it's easier to go, easier to leave, than to cross this distance" to be vulnerable and be up close, to be close enough to not know what do to, to be close enough to not feel safe.

So here's my question: "What's keeping you so far away?  What will it take for you to cross that chasm?" What are you so afraid of that keeps you laying mile after mile of concrete?  If you can just stop for a moment, look that fear right in the eyes, brush it off, maybe you'll stop adding miles of distance and find love on the other side.

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale

You are so beautiful to me

Remember that old Joe Cocker song ... "You Are So Beautiful" ...

I was having dinner with my sister a little while back, and it struck me how truly beautiful she is ... I hadn't seen her in that light for a while ... I'd seen her as mom to my niece and nephew, wife, sister ... all the other labels.  So I told her how wonderful she looked.

And that got us talking about beauty, and style, and attractiveness.  The restaurant we were in was dripping with style (Beso Hollywood ... you have to try it) and sexy patrons. Plenty of young sexy women and men, but only a few truly beautiful ... my sister being one.

What's the difference between sexy and beautiful?  I think my sister hit it ... it's sensuality ... it's inner beauty.  She said she recently got to spend some time with Lee Meriwether ... remember the original cat woman.  Definitely beautiful and a sex symbol for the time.  But my sister says every time she sees her she is more beautiful.  Older, yes, but more beautiful.  And it's mostly because she is sensual through and through.

So maybe it is sensuality that ignites beauty.  We've all seen sexy creatures without sensuality burnout like so much spark after a firecracker.  As a friend of mine says "beauty is transitory." But as we get older it's that sensuality, that inner glow, that true comfort with your humanity, that connectedness with yourself/others/your body/your spirit that drives true attraction, true beauty.  And even the young beautiful people of Hollywood can see it.  I've seen them pass by a superficial beauty to connect with an amazingly sensual spirit.

Here's my question: "When was the last time you truly looked at someone and saw how beautiful they were ... and then told them?"  You might knock them off their feet, tip them off-balance, make them stop and listen for a moment ... if so, good.  And by the way, that someone could be you.

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale

Curious George meet Harry the Hamster

Hot and heavy on the heels of my Monkey Mind blog entry comes Harry. Harry is the hamster in all of us.  He's cute and cuddly and loves to get on his wheel and spin, spin, spin.  Harry is a close relative of Curious George ... our monkey mind.  Bet you didn't know that monkey's and hamsters were so closely related.

Harry is that creature in all of us who can't get off the treadmill, can't stop doing things to stay distracted, can't stand still or change direction for fear of ... well fear of all the other hamsters screaming at him to get back on the wheel.  And Harry certainly can't stop; because if he stops for one moment, maybe the silence will be too much to take.

And this is why Harry the Hamster is the closest relative to Curious George our monkey mind.  Because they both won't let you stop for a moment to catch your breath and just be you.  Both Harry and George keep you distracted long enough for the present moment to slip your grasp and evaporate like so much gossamer.  George does it by making you dwell on the past or worry about the future, and Harry does it by physicializing all your fears.  Geneen Roth's book Women Food and God talks about Harry's physicalization with food, but there are plenty of other ways to distract yourself.

I got a first hand lesson in this today.  I thought I was past this, but I'm obviously not ... damn.  Today I got a one week break from all the noise that I let myself get caught up in. Many of my responsibilities got up and left ... took a holiday ... brought in managers ... and have left me alone. And what's the first thing I did?  I started figuring out ways to keep Harry busy and myself distracted. So I might have a handle on George, but Harry, oh Harry's running full steam ahead.

So I asked myself, if I've got some time, some freedom, from all the noise, why can't I be me; why can't I do / manifest what I want to / need to, to be happy.  And that sentence hit me.  Maybe that's it.  Maybe I don't think I'm allowed to be happy.  And that sentence laid me out flat.  So is it whenever I get close to being free, being happy, Harry runs extra fast to keep me from doing that?  Oh boy, can you say existential crisis.

So here's the question: "What do you do to keep yourself distracted?  Keep yourself from being happy?  Keep yourself in a nice self imposed coma?" I'm sure we all do it.  Whether it's George or Harry, we've all got ways to stay distracted and distanced.  So if you're like me you need to find a way to keep both George and Harry quiet, if only for a second and then really ask yourself; "now that I'm alone, what's it like to be free, to be happy."

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale

Monkey Mind

What kind of monkey are you?  A squirrel monkey? Maybe a spider monkey?  A Rhesus ... a gorilla ... a ... a ... a human monkey.  We're all just humans with big monkey minds.

You've seen the monkey mind at work.  It's when your head gets in the way of everything. You start thinking about all the bad things that could go wrong if you (fill in the blank).  You start thinking about all the good things that you'll get if you (fill in the blank).  You start thinking about how this or that happened in the past so you should/shouldn't (fill in the blank).

It's our monkey mind that keeps us distracted from the present moment.  Our monkey mind is not content existing in the present moment, but rather engages in the thoughts that pass through.

I've been struggling with this for a while now.  How to exist in the present moment and not let my mind wander so far astray that I miss what's going on right in front of me. Of course this is not new, Buddhists, Hindus and many of the worlds cultures have been trying to tame the monkey mind for millenniums. They use physical exercise to force the mind to be quiet.  They use meditation, breathing, letting the monkey loose for a while until she tires out. It's the monkey mind that is that part of us that keeps us distracted, keeps us worrying, keeps us in pain, just plain keeps us. So when am I going to ...

Stop Thinking and Start Living

That's an important statement. A friend of mine caught me on this recently and it stopped me dead in my tracks. I thought I was good at taming my monkey mind, but she's just found another way to express herself.  A way I'm not as attuned to.

So, of course here is your question: "Can you stop thinking and start living ... if only for a moment?"  How do YOU quiet your monkey mind?  How do YOU stop worrying, stop thinking, stop distracting yourself?  If you don't have a conscious way to quiet her/yourself, you'll stay spinning in your head and miss what's right in front of you.

So find something; meditation, breathing, working out ... anything ... just find something you can use to consciously quiet your head.  And if you can just for a moment, maybe you'll finally see the amazing things right in front of you, right here, right now.

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale

The opposite of love

Have you ever been irrelevant? Have you ever had the other person NOT notice you? Have you ever thought you were amazing, only to find out, they WEREN'T listening?

I'm not sure where I heard this but it seems to fit: "The opposite of love is not hate it's apathy."

I'm sure you've experienced it; a total lack of connection. In business we get it all the time: our customers don't see us, our prospects don't notice us, our bosses and clients don't remember if we were there or not.

I don't know about you, but I don't like being irrelevant.  So if this is such a common occurrence, why is it so traumatic? Is the opposite of love truly apathy ... an unwillingness to connect?

Maybe it's how we're wired.  Maybe if someone is passionate about you it sparks an engagement, a connection. Maybe that's what we're looking for after all: not love, or hate, or something in-between. Maybe being relevant is what it's all about, being passionate - being connected, even if that relevance is opposite from the belief system of the other.

We've seen it; two people who violently disagree, perhaps even hate each other, eventually have that passionate spark of disagreement turn into engagement. And of course we've seen it on the other side; agreeing passionately.

This happened to me the other day.  I was irrelevant.  The other person wasn't mad, wasn't upset, wasn't frustrated ... they weren't anything. They didn't answer my email, didn't return my call, didn't care to even explore the offer ... they just didn't ... and I was irrelevant.

So here's my question: "When was the last time you were irrelevant?"  That's a tough one to answer because usually it means taking a hard look at ourselves and asking "Why".  Why am I irrelevant?  Is it them ... maybe.  Is it me ... probably.  Whatever I'm doing they don't care about.  So do you change what you're doing to become more relevant in their world?  Yes, No, Maybe.  You could decide NOT to play in their sandbox.  But if you do ... if you do decide to play in their sandbox, the only way to get them to love you (or hate you), is to do something important enough to be seen.  So go ahead ... do something we'll notice ... be relevant ... we dare you ... and we're waiting.

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale

Ah ha, I got you now

Or do you have me? I play this game all the time with my son. We wrestle and roll doing Jiu Jitsu and he'll get me in a hold and say "Ha, I got you" and then a moment later "uh oh, or do you have me." And in the daily chess game of human relationships, who has who is almost impossible to tell.

So if it's so hard to tell who is holding-on to whom, who controls whom, who seduced whom, why do we struggle so hard to come up with a final answer? Maybe it's our ego looking for acknowledgment of dominance. Maybe it's our ego looking for acknowledgment of power ... Maybe it's our ego ...

I've said that I can't hold on to something that doesn't want to be held on to: a job, a client, a personal relationship, a situation. So maybe the object of our attention has the real power, and not the pursuer. That's a tough one to swallow.

There's an interesting book called "Finite and Infinite Games: A Vision of Life as Play and Possibility" that really pushes on this concept. It talks about finite games as being a single pursuit (the hunt for A job, the chase of A romance, the tactics of A sale) but it very clearly states that the pursued is complicit in the game. In fact it goes so far as to discuss things in which we think there is no choice (ie. slavery) and to make the statement that the pursued (the slave) actually has the power (ie. the person being enslaved can always figtht). It's a tough one to wrap your head around. But at some level if your being pursued, you have to surrender and be caught. So the pursuer has absolutely no power. Now that's unintuitive.

So here's my question: "What are you chasing, or what is chasing you, and what would it take to surrender ... on either side of the chase?" What would the world look like if we stopped playing finite games (the world of one single game) and started playing infinite games (the world of many games). What would the world look like if you immediately surrendered, knowing that in the surrendering you gain all the power. Think about it the next time you play a game, a chase and ... stop running

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale

Take that condom off

It's time to take off the protection. Ride bareback for a while. Let go of all the barriers and get really intimate.

Did I get your attention?

I hope so. Because I'm not talking only about sex here. I'm talking about all the barriers that we put between us. I'm talking about all the walls we put up that stop true intimacy, true social interaction, true connection. I'm talking about taking off the social condoms we wear around every day and really be vulnerable and intimate.

And intimacy is not about sex. In fact you can have sex with someone you are not intimate with, and be intimate with someone you're not having sex with. So close your preconceptions and judgment for a minute and open your heart and mind and take a walk on the wild side with me.

Why are we afraid of intimacy? Why are we afraid of getting close to people? Why do we use protection: the protection of our personality, the protection of social masks, the protection of technology (email, chat, text) and get nervous when we are forced to let our guard/protection down for a moment?

Maybe it's about trust (see my post on belief/trust). Maybe we're afraid that if we trust, if we're truly intimate and share our feelings with another or have them share their feelings with us that the walls will come crumbling down and we'll get hurt. But if you don't trust then you shouldn't try to connect at all; with or without protection; you should take a step back. I think Sam Kinison said it best (and this is my cleaned up version ... his X-rated version is available on Google by typing "Sam Kinison" "If you don't trust"): if you don't trust the other person, why are you with the other person.

So here's the question: "In what situation would you be willing to take off your protection and trust?" And don't go all out and end up hurt. But in what small little way are you protecting yourself some-place, with some-one, at some-event that you can ask yourself "what would happen if I rode bareback here?" Take it one step at a time, but maybe the more you play without protection, the more passion you'll squeeze out of life.

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale

From here on

When do you bolt?

It's a good question.  A question that Geneen Roth poses in her book Women Food and God. At what point do you leave a new path and go running full force screaming at the top your lungs back to where you started?

This has been a topic of conversation across many friends and concerning many subjects lately.  Seth Godin tries to tackle this topic in his book the dip, but it is so complicated that he just scratches the surface.

There are really two questions here:
1.) When DO you bolt back to the safety of your old behaviors?
2.) When SHOULD you bolt because it is the most prudent thing to do?

I've seen so many people bolt because they are scared (question 1), that I'm amazed anyone makes it through to the other side at all.  So when do they bolt?  When do they say (as in the Matrix), give me the blue pill and put me back into the fallacy of it all?  From what I've seen,

people bolt when they reach the point of no return

Read that again.  And think about it.  When you have almost seen, understood, experienced, eaten so much that one more bite and you can't return to the safety of your past ... that's when most people stop and run backwards.  Because once you're changed.  Once you've seen, truly seen, the world in a different light, you have to let go of your past, let go of your beliefs, let go of your support network, and leap to a new level.  And that's precisely when it is the most terrifying, when there is no way to go back into the fallacy of it all.

So we know when we typically DO bolt (at the point of no return); when SHOULD we bolt?  That's part of Seth's book.  When do we push through the toughest part of the day and keep moving -- the dip -- and when should we quit.  I think I've found a good metric.

When the story no longer rings true, you're done.

If you still believe the fundamentals, when you still believe the foundation, when you still can articulate why the story is believable, then you stay and work through the rough parts.  But the moment you can't suspend disbelief any more ... then the story is over ... the credits have rolled and it's time to turn the page.

So here's my question: "What triggers you to bolt when you should stay?" and "What forces you to stay when the story is over?" Tough questions to answer truthfully, but if you can even look at the questions without feeling queasy, and then answer them for a moment, maybe you'll stay when you feel like leaving, and leave when you feel like staying.  Maybe you'll be able to overcome your biology and truly see a different path.

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale

I feel for you

Have you ever noticed it feels worse when someone you care about is sick than when you're sick yourself?

When you're sick or injured you know how you feel and how strong you need to be to get through it.  But when someone else is sick or injured, there is a certain powerlessness that overcomes you.  Especially when that someone is someone you love: kids, parents, friends, spouses, lovers, partners.

A friend and I were talking about this.  We were talking about how we react when we see someone hurt or suffering.  It doesn't have to be just physical; how do we react when we're confronted with pain: emotional, physical, spiritual.  And how can you feel for someone without becoming lost in the feeling.

We started talking about the difference between feeling empathy for someone and feeling sympathy for someone.  My friend is a therapist and he is bombarded by emotional distress all day every day. I asked him how he handles it; how he handles all the sadness; and his answer is that he has to feel sympathetic for his patients but can't be empathic to their pain.  So what's the difference between empathy and sympathy, and can you really turn-on the distinction on-demand?  And we came up with the following:

Sympathy essentially implies a feeling of recognition for another's suffering, while empathy is actually sharing another's suffering.

When I got that distinction in my heart, I finally understood what'd been happening.  I used to be empathic for many of the people I came into contact with.  Now, I can be sympathetic when I need to without being caught up in the emotions.

So here's my question: "When was the last time you felt someone else's pain?" And I mean really felt it. A deep sympathy for THEIR pain without it becoming YOUR pain.  I know you can feel sympathy for people you're not connected to: hungry kids, poor villagers; but can you really only feel sympathy for someone you love: kids, parents, friends, spouses, lovers, partners?

Maybe there is something in between sympathy and empathy.  Maybe it's a deep caring, a deep need to keep the ones you love safe without being afraid when they're afraid or being sick when they're sick.  Maybe you can move from sympathy to a deeper connection, a kind of empathic sympathy, a loving sympathy.  And maybe that deeper feeling will change the way you see and act for someone else.

See you on the wire.

-- Steven Cardinale

I believe you

So, I'm going through my iPod looking for songs I haven't heard in a while and I get to Sade. One of her songs "Nothing Can Come Between Us" has a great line in it:


"It's about faith. It's about trust"

And I started thinking about faith: Knowing without knowing how you know.
And I started thinking about trust: Letting go to another.

And although I'm a professional skeptic at heart, I'm wondering how many times a day, I just believe ... I just combine trust and faith and take a leap. A leap of faith. And as a professional skeptic, when I really look at it, when I really look at how many times in any given day I just trust things will work out, I let myself be vulnerable and just leap ... it almost scares me how often I do it:

* When I get in a car
* Or a plane
* In professional relationships
* In personal relationships

And the more I open up and become vulnerable and just leap, the more people seem to connect to me. Seems the human condition is drawn to an open mind that knows when something is unknowable and just leaps. I'm not talking about the blind faith of dogmatic religion. I'm not talking about the faith of the invisible ... nor the faith of trusting a single spirit ...

I'm talking about the faith of trusting everything. I know that sounds strange from someone who doesn't believe. But it fully fits within a skeptic's vision, I'll give you an example: when I fly, I'm trusting the pilot, the plane, the airport, other planes, the passengers, security, the electronics, the physics, the engineering. I trust it all will work together seamlessly. I don't have any other choice. The skeptics option as well as the true believer's option is to just believe.

So here's my question: "What or who can you believe in?" Take a look at the people, systems, environments around you and ask yourself what haven't you been trusting ... what/who is trustable ... who is worth it ... and then just leap.

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale

The Human Touch

So I just broke up with someone. Experiencing all the stages of grief as described by the Kubler-Ross model: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Going through the emotional roller coaster ride that accompanies change or loss. Both me and the other person. You know, the questions: "Will I find someone quite like them again?" "Was it my fault? Could I have done something different?" "Why is the other person acting like such an A-hole?"

You've been there, we all have been there, and in all probability will be there again. Probably many times.

What's interesting about this break-up is that it's not romantic. It's a business split; a break of a long-term professional relationship of sorts. A kind of workplace divorce.

Most people only allow for certain emotions across certain relationships. That's why the break-up language is only allowed in romance. But we experience the same feelings when we separate from people in any context. So why the language restrictions?

Maybe because we THINK if we control our language then we can control the situation and our feelings.

Read that again. We pretend that if we control our words we can control the situation. George Carlin has a great rant on euphemisms that talks about squeezing the humanity out of language.

But human relationships are human relationships. When you split with someone you split, you leave, the relationship becomes more shallow-less intimate; and this happens whether you're having sex with that person or doing Powerpoints.

Humans touch each other in the same humanistic ways across relationships regardless of titles. We love, hate, explore, enjoy, tolerate, despise, care for, worry about, think about and connect to people not based on their "situational title" (ie, grandma, son, boss) but rather on our relationship to them. Think about the word love. When you tease out what that word really means ... you'll notice you love certain people because of the people, not the situation.

So here's my question: "What words do you use to protect yourself?". Did you just downsize your best friend? Or did you break-up? If you can look at the person, strip the protective language and expose the raw emotion, then maybe you'll be vulnerable enough to feel, and maybe, just maybe, you'll explore the person on the other side of the table.

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale

When you wish upon a star

I have a small black bag filled with powder, well more like dust really.  A magic kind of dust squeezed from the wings of pixies and fairies.  A quick pinch of dust liberally sprinkled over your hair and viola ... you now get one wish.  You can have anything you want, but only one thing, and only for one night.  What would you wish for?  If you could have/do/experience just one thing before your old clock runs out, what would it be?

It's an interesting question.  Mostly because you only get it for one day, one night, one rotation of the Earth.
You can wish for riches, but they'll evaporate at midnight.  And what would you buy anyway ... for a day.
You can wish for fame, but you turn back into Cinderella ... or Cinderfella ... when the clock strikes 12.

Those surface pleasures just seem unimportant when you've only got 24 hours to go.
If you're ill, you'd probably wish to be well, just for a day.
If you miss someone you'd probably wish they were back in your life, if only for a day.
If there was one decision in your life you could re-live, you'd probably think differently, if only for that turn of the clock.

So here's my question: "Can you live tomorrow, and take one quick moment, one quick breath, and wish upon a star?"  Can you take today and see if there's something you're going to wish for many years from now, when you really only have 24 hours left, and not just wish upon a star, but rather make that dream come true?

See you on the wire.

-- Steven Cardinale

Swept Away

When was the last time you were swept off your feet? You know, a moment when everything melted away, and you were dazzled in pure amazement.  Was it a sunset at the beach? Was it a street in the city? Was it a look, a touch, a scent, a sound?  What was it that sent you reeling, just for a moment, and keeps you locked in a desperate search to recreate those special circumstances that sent a jolt of electricity through your body so you can be swept away again?

There's a quote I've heard that sums it all up:

“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.”

I don't know who wrote it (the authorship is unclear), but that doesn't diminish the power of the words.

Think about today, or this week, or this month.  How many times did you catch your breath?  Do you remember them?  If you're like me, they are few and far between, but when they happen they cling to the ribs of your being.  We don't remember tying our shoes, or doing the dishes, or any of the other mundane moments of our lives.  But we do remember those breathless moments.  Those moments when you're scared, those moments when you're at the edge, those moments when the outcome is so uncertain that you just have to hold your breath in anticipation of seeing What's Next.

So here's my question: "What can you do to spark more breathless moments?" First you have to be aware when they happen.  You have to pinch yourself and remember how it smelled, tasted, looked when you're swept away.  Once you are truly aware of your own state, and of being in a breathless moment, maybe, just maybe you can start to craft the spell again, voluntarily, in the future.

So what are you waiting for.  Go on.  Spark a breathless moment ... we're waiting.

See you on the wire.

-- Steven Cardinale

Cravings

Have you ever had a craving for some thing, some one, some place?  A burning desire that won't let you go until it is satisfied?  You know what I'm talking about.  The kind of craving that will pull you from you slumber and make you (and it does it MAKE you) rummage around the refrigerator, the closet, the computer room, the garage, the internet until you're completely satisfied.

The Police have an old song "J'aurais Tourjours Faim De Toi" which translates to "Hungry for you" (yes, I've been listening to my old Police albums lately). Their song is about a hunger for some one.  But cravings come in all shapes and sizes.  Cravings for food, for exotic locations, for common locations; cravings for games, for some one's voice or smile.  I'm not talking about just a want.  I'm talking about the kind of craving that fills your thoughts and forces you to become passionate about your actions.

I guess with my last blog post about "How Fragile We Are" still swirling in my head I'm thinking about my bucket list, how quickly it all goes, and what cravings I have on that bucket list that I MUST experience before my fragility runs out.

So here's my question: "What, Who, Where are you craving?" Think about something you've always wanted to do; something on your bucket list; and figure out how to do it ... NOW.  Not someday, or whenever you're ready, but NOW.  And now doesn't have to be tomorrow, it can be in a year once you're ready.  But NOW does have to have a date and an plan to it.  Because if it is not NOW then it is someday.  And with our fragility in the balance we all only have a few someday's.

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale

A moment of silence

I just found out that someone I am close to is dying. Not today but soon. And it made me stop and reflect just for a moment how fragile we all are.

Sting has an old song "Fragile" that speaks these words.  A song that pulls out the sorrow of what Geneen Roth talks about in Women Food  and God; the sorrow of "coming to terms with your messy, magnificent and very, very short--even at a hundred years old--life."

You never really think about all the fragile parts of you.  Or think about how, when, why that fragility will break.

So for this post there is no question.  Just a moment of silence to think about how fragile we are.

-- Steven Cardinale

Sweet Surrender

You know the moment.  That moment when you stop fighting.  Stop the resistance to a natural phenomenon.  The moment when you let go and just give in.  That moment when you stop trying to control everything you can't control and just surrender to the experience?

When you stop trying to control tomorrow and surrender to the moment.

Read that line again.  It's important ... probably because it is more true than either you or I would like to admit.

We've all felt it in one way or another. It happens in sports and physical activities all the time. You can't control where the golf ball goes once you've hit it.  Hell you can't even control where the golf ball is going to go BEFORE you hit it. The only thing you can do is be in the moment.  Practice your swing without be massively focused on what your doing right and wrong.  And then just swing.  If you're in your head when you swing on the course ... when you haven't surrendered to the physics of the moment ... well you know ... the golf ball is all over the place.

I do some of the more non-traditional sports, like Jiu Jitsu, Archery and I experience this almost daily.  When I'm trying too hard, when I'm worried about winning the match or hitting the bullseye (trying to control the outcome), when I'm not surrendering to the moment, I'm brittle, stiff, and usually end up missing the target completely or losing the round.

Why is surrendering so hard?  Surrendering to a physical event; Surrendering to another person (especially if that person is not "supposed" to have control by society's standards ... such as your kids); Surrendering to a force larger than you.  Are we so tied to control because it is too scary to let go just in case something happens we're not ready for? But isn't that control an illusion?

So here's my question: "When was the last time you truly surrendered, if only for a moment?"  Gave up your illusionary control and melted into the moment?  Do you remember?  Wasn't it an amazing experience?  Can you be more conscious in yourself and find another moment to surrender to?

I guess I'd like to surrender more to the stuff I can't control and just experience it.  And if I can do that just a bit more every day, maybe I'll experience the euphoria of sweet surrender more often.

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale

It's my first time, be gentle

When we see a newborn baby, we say "be gentle."  Or we encounter a puppy or a kitten, our natural response is "careful, gentle."  Or when we see something delicate or something of great value, our initial inclination is to be gentle.

So what exactly does it mean to be gentle.  Webster's dictionary says "to be free from harshness, sternness, or violence.  Soft, delicate"

We tend to know innately when to be gentle (when gentleness is called for) on new things (babies and puppies) and on valuable things.  But do we know how to be gentle with one another?  That's the question: Can we see that each of us has a tender inside, a valuable core, a vulnerable piece that needs a soft delicate touch?

I'd like to take Webster's definition and take it a step further. Push it into a more human realm.  What's the definition of being gentle with another person?  How about: "to open ourselves and truly see how another is affected by our words, our behaviors, our actions, and then to be soft and delicate with those words, behaviors and actions"

That definition of gentleness requires us to truly see another person (see my Mirror, Mirror blog).  To be aware of the tenderness under the rough human exterior.  It requires us to be awake to how our own baggage can distort our true desire to be gentle.

So here's my question: "When was the last time you were truly gentle?"  It could be to yourself, to someone else, to some thing.  I know for me, I haven't been as gentle as I'd like to be on many different occasions.  And most of the time I don't even realize I'm being ... what's the opposite of gentle ... harsh.  That's a hard word.  I've been harsher than I could be, than I want to be many times.  Wow, that's an eye opener just writing it.

So be gentle with yourself; with others.  Pay attention to who they truly are.  If you can truly see the person across from you, next to you, on the other end of the phone or txt, then I'll bet your natural instinct to be tender will kick in.  And the gentler you are, the more tenderness will be returned.

See you on the wire

-- Steven Cardinale