Life Is an Acquired Taste

The best coffeehouse in the United States isn’t located in Seattle or Portland or NYC or any of the usual suspects. Nope. Rather, Press Coffee Bar is nestled between a parking lot and a sewing shop, across the street from a pair of abandoned warehouses and beneath several stories of old brick apartments in Dayton Ohio, the birthplace of aviation, the cash register, and hundred-spoke gold rims.

I’m sitting at Press now, tucked in the back enjoying a black coffee, a subtle milieu of roasted beans and Radiohead’s OK Computer in the atmosphere around me. Back in Dayton for a spell, I’ve been spending a lot of time here dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s in Ryan’s and my next book, Everything That Remains.

The shop’s tattooed proprietors, Brett and Janell Barker, are hard at work behind the counter, utterly unaware I’m writing this. The Barkers are an awesome husband-and-wife duo, wonderful in more ways than one: friendly, attentive, passionate, etc., etc. Plus, they are sticklers for detail. From the wood floors and wood-paneled walls, to the music and changed-monthly local-art installations, everything at Press is carefully and intentionally curated. Not to mention a handful of employees—Caleb, Awni, Brenden, Eric—who feel much more like family than staff, and customers who seem to embody a Cheers-esque camaraderie (Woody Harrelson and I went to the same high school after all, albeit two decades apart).

Oh, and then there’s the coffee of course: sourced from only the best roasters and brewed or pulled so carefully—so meticulously—that it resembles art much more than foodservice. All of which culminates in the perfect coffeehouse—elegant and unpretentious and simple.

The simplicity of Press transcends the shop itself. Not simple for the sake of being simple, Press is simple because they’ve eliminated the excess in favor of the essential. It was Brett, after all, who convinced me to do the same with my coffee…

Back in the day, I used to load my cup of joe with heaps of cream and sweetener, more like a weak, milky, calorie-laden dessert than a drink. As I stirred in the excess, Brett would to quietly rib me, encouraging me to enjoy the flavor without the additives.

I didn’t listen. Well at least not at first; not until the day when they ran out of my sweetener of choice, and I was forced to go without. It was an unpleasant shock at first—drinking only coffee and cream—but soon my taste buds adjusted, and guess what: I could better taste the coffee, and so I went without sweetener from then on.

A month later, being the experimenter I am, I wondered what my coffee would taste like without milk, so I ordered an Americano and shook my head when Janell asked whether I wanted room for cream. Because I was unacclimated, the first sip was bitter, a strong punch to the palate. But then of course, a few days in, I acquired the taste, and for the first time in my life I could taste the actual coffee. It was more delicious than any of the sugary, weak, milky cups of yesteryear. Suffice it to say I never went back.

It seems to me that black coffee is also a synecdoche for life: when you eliminate the excess… [Read more of this article on The Minimalists]

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Lethargic

You don’t merely feel tired or exhausted but you feel even worse.
You feel drained.
As if every inch of energy/life has been sucked away from you.
Sucked away, by “life” itself.

You feel as though there must be something more, something else that will make this reality worth living again. Something that will make Trying– actually worth it.

You feel bored with what you do on a daily basis. The monotony has caused you to become so good at that low-level job that you can do it with your eyes closed and your hands tied behind your back. So now, you’re stuck in a low-paying and unchallenging situation for more than half of your day. But you’re still determined, still aware that you can change your life at any given time- given the energy.

Energy from where? You get back to the home that you have decided will be your temporary night-office but as you rest your buttocks upon that tiny office chair- you fade away into “lala land”. Where everything is great, abundant and most of all: everything makes a little bit more sense than the real world. It makes so much sense, actually, that by the time you rise: you can not even remember the utopia that you have just woken-up from.

The concept of this utopia- is that foreign. So foreign that it can not be comprehended within the confines of reality. By the time you’ve awakened for the next day, you’ve left your dreams “where they belong” and you’re back into your own self-proclaimed living hell.

Many of us find ourselves living this life, not completely out of choice but out of neglect. Neglect of the nurturing that is required to cultivate our every dream and aspiration. There is a certain level of obsession that one must have. Not an obsession of the dream, that’s probably already there. But an obsession of realizing that dream, a keen want/need to do more; to “suffer” more and to WANT to see more. Make the dream your every-second-reality. When you’re not thinking of your family- you’re thinking of your dream. When you are thinking about your family, you’re thinking about them in the context of your dream. It’s so hard to stress the notion of the importance of affirmations in a world that seems locked into “reaction mode” and distanced from “action mode“.

A world where you just keep on keeping-on. Flowing with the current.
As a creator; it is your responsibility to go against the flow of mediocrity.

So keep raking the leaves, pruning the flowers and watering the soil of your potentially wonderful thought-garden and be sure to nurture your dream to reality.

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What It Feels Like to No Longer Worry About Money

Growing up in a poor neighborhood with a single mom was not, as they say, child’s play. Drinking and drugs and familial anarchy permeated the walls of our cockroach-infested apartment. Not to mention all the baggage that comes with that lifestyle: discontent, anxiety, uncertainty, depression.

To add insult to injury, we were broke. Like flat broke. Dead broke. Poor as church mice. I’d have to remove my shoes to count how many times our electricity got shut off on Warren Street. I shit you not.

By the time adulthood was at my doorstep, I thought if I made enough money, I could circumvent Mom’s path; I could somehow achieve happiness (or at least finance it). So I spent my twenties traversing the corporate ladder.

Fresh out of high school, I skipped the whole college route and instead found an entry-level sales job with a corporation that “let” me work six, sometimes seven, days a week, ten to twelve hours a day. I wasn’t great at it, but I learned how to get by—and then how to get better.

I bought a big-screen TV, a surround-sound system, and a stack of DVDs with my first big commission check. By 19 I was making over $50,000 a year, twice as much as I’d ever seen Mom bring home, but I was spending even more, racking up the credit-card debt. I obviously needed the three M’s in my life: Make. More. Money.

So I worked harder, much harder, and after a series of promotions—store manager at 22, regional manager at 24—I was, at age 27, the youngest director in the company’s 140-year history. I’d become a fast-track career man, a personage of sorts. Which meant that if I worked really hard, and if everything happened exactly like it was supposed to, then I could be a vice president by 32, a senior vice president by 35 or 40, and a C-level executive—CFO, COO, CEO—by 45 or 50, followed of course by the golden parachute. I’d have it made then! I’d just have to be miserable for a few more years, to drudge through the corporate politics and bureaucracy that I knew so well. Just keep climbing and don’t look down.

And so I didn’t look down; I looked up. And what I saw was terrifying…

“You shouldn’t ask a man who earns $20,000 a year how to make a hundred grand,”…[Read more on The Minimalists]

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We have come a Long Way

 

On Wednesday, we celebrated the 50th anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King’s memorable “I have a dream” speech. A speech that instilled in every African-American, the possibility of an equal and abundant society that doesn’t discriminate against itself as a consequence of racial, cultural or any other differences really. Dr. King had a vision of an America that wasn’t what it was-

That dream was realised.

30-years later, we can’t help but look back and think: “Damn, we’ve come quite far since then”. When I say “we”, I’m not just referring to Africans exclusively but to Society as a whole. The whole of society had to take a revolutionary leap towards a reality that wasn’t perceivable at the time. It was this transition that translated into a great lesson; a lesson of the essence of change and our willingness to adapt and derive from this change a better, fresher outlook on life. The transition highlighted how most people had an opinion that they had derived from those that lived before. People had views on race that weren’t much acquired by themselves as they were engraved within them. But once this veil was removed, People began to see the truth behind all the fear and hate:

We are all one.

This revelation, however, was only realised after much injustice; blood-shed and heart-ache. Imagine if we all took the time, every now and again, to reassess our views on all aspects of life. We would be able to identify which views actually belong to us and which were just passed down to us. We can then inquire of those that were passed down onto us, their current relevance in our lives. Do I still think that a formal education is the only way to survive life? Do I still believe that having more is what life is about? Do I still like this job or have I merely become accustomed to it?

This reviewing process would help us to stay true to ourselves and to then intuit our own reality as per our definition of real.

True to who we really are.

Become a part of The Revolution @ZooLooConcepts

The Worst Thing That Could Happen

Risk scares the bejesus out of people. Many of us associate risk with failure, failure with pain. Yet we’re told we have to take plenty of risks to succeed. Thus, success must be painful, right? Not necessarily…

When it comes to challenging our preconceived notions about risk, the common platitudinal question that gets tossed around by kindhearted friends and self-help gurus is, “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

Truth be told, some risks are fairly benign: jettisoning most of your material possessions, asking a cute guy or girl for his or her phone number, writing the first page of the book you’ve always wanted to write. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Likely, nothing at all. There is no real risk in these innocuous endeavors.

Other risks, however, probably should scare the shit out of you: skydiving, purchasing a home, quitting your job. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Umm, some pretty awful shit actually: death, debt, and poverty, respectively. Although that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take these risks; it means you should approach each risk with logic, reason, and intuition. Peer over the edge before taking your proverbial leap, and if it makes sense, then leap. Because not leaping can be a much bigger risk.

The difference, then, between the benign risks and the real risks, is that the latter possesses potentially life-altering worst-case consequences, while the former poses virtually no threat at all.

But, when you think about it, the benign risks can also hold life-altering consequences if you change the question: What is the best—not the worst, but the best—thing that could happen? Perhaps getting rid of your excess stuff will free up time and money and space and give you some much needed peace of mind. Perhaps that phone number will lead to a fulfilling relationship. Perhaps writing that first page… [Read more at The Minimalists]

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Haunted by Desire

The ghosts of desperation and lust and envy hide in the shadow of our yearning. Be it money, material possessions, or accolades, we are haunted by our aspirations. After all, we become what we desire.

Covet that shiny new truck, that next big promotion, that beautiful man or woman, and you will feel unspeakable pain until it/he/she is yours. When your desire is met, however, your flame is not extinguished. No, you are instead filled with brand new desires, a never-ending cycle.

The key, then, is to aspire toward something meaningful. Instead of jonesing for things, we must pursue those which are without definitive milestones: growth, contribution, love.

These qualities are self-fulfilling: Seek growth and you will grow. Endeavor to give to others and you will, by definition, contribute beyond yourself. Love others and your cup with overflow with the love you give.

It is not wrong to have aspirations, desires, goals. But it is wrong for us to imagine that we can ever satiate our ever-growing need for more.

[Read more from The Minimalists]

“No One Cares”

This is a quote from Paid to Exist founder Jonathan Mead. It’s about the way you feel whenever you are around people: Is my hair okay? Do I look like a bitch standing like this? Are they going to think I’m just an amateur?

The truth is, no one cares.

BECAUSE I DESERVE IT!

We all want to make good choices, the correct selection, the most righteous decision. It goes without saying.

But of course our impulsive, mammalian brains like to get in the way and muck it all up, don’t they? Which means that instead of relying on reason and data and facts, we seek to validate our bad decisions via any-means-necessary-type justification.

One of the worst forms of this kind of rationalization is Because I deserve it!

Unfortunately, we’ve gotten good at using this excuse to push aside logic and give grounds for our screw ups. This sense of entitlement is a slippery slope, though.

Sometimes the excuse is benign (at least initially): After my long day, I deserve an ice cream cone! Sure, most of us won’t experience negative effects from a single dessert. But this fact is quickly torpedoed when one cone turns into two, which turns into four, and so forth. After all, if you deserve one treat, why not more? Why not every day?

Even if you do deserve it, or even if the decision is the right one, there’re myriad good reasons—rationals based on sound reason, logical thought, or even personal intuition—to make the right decision. Because I deserve it! is never one of them.

[Read more at The Minimalists]

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The Right Path, Wrong Path, Left Path, and No Path

The Paths

Whenever we fail to make a decision, we fail to grow.

As we approach each of life’s proverbial forks in the road, we are not merely faced with two potential courses of action. Rather, as many as four choices appear in front of us at each fork.

The right path. Often the correct decision is glaring; the right path is illuminated, clear for miles, obvious to everyone. Whenever this is the case, seize the opportunity—take the right path.

The wrong path. Similarly, there are some paths that’re blatantly incorrect, filled with obstacles and venomous creatures lurking about. Avoid these routes, even when they appear to be beautiful or tantalizing or easy.

The left path. Sometimes, though, the fork presents two equally viable options: The right path is right, but so is the left. Or maybe you cannot tell which path is correct from your vantage point. In these instances it is most important to simply pick either path, using all available relevant information, and keep moving forward. Even if we pick the wrong path, we grow from the failure.

No… [Read more on The Minimalists]

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Unteachers

 

The more experienced we are, the more unlearning we have to do.

We enter this world as creators, curious to discover ways to express ourselves visually, auditorily, kinesthetically. But, over time, we are taught to be more “realistic,” to be “safe” and “reasonable” and “normal.” When, in truth, we never wanted to be safe or reasonable. Maybe we wanted to be normal, but today’s normality template is far from what most of us had in mind at age five.

Growing up, we all just wanted to be ourselves. That was normal. But soon, we were placed in a classroom, told to stand in line and speak when spoken to, and prescribed ADHD medication if we got out of line. This methodology worked great for creating factory workers and farmers, which seemed ideal when 90% of the population was either the former or the latter.

Today, however, most people are neither factory workers nor farmers (and even those positions have changed radically in the past few decades), and yet we’re all graced with the assembly-line mentality, systematically programmed for compliance, expected to adhere to external standards while disregarding whatever our own internal normal was.

During this process, our creativity is quashed and replaced with a vast emptiness, a desire to create, even though we’re told that we’re not creative. It’s no coincidence that we start focusing more on consuming around the same time, looking for any(material)thing to fill the void.

“All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.” Picasso had this observation a century ago, and, unfortunately, these words ring even truer in today’s postindustrial world, a world where our vocations no longer ape the form of pseudo-creation (a la farming and factorying), and thus the gap between creation and consumption widens as we attempt to buy what no one can possibly sell: individual creativity.

The strange thing about this antiquated system is that most of its gatekeepers—government officials, school administrators, and teachers—aren’t operating out of malice. If anything, their reaction is birthed from apathy or comfort or both. Many teachers, in fact, are just as disenchanted with the whole mess as we are, though they often feel like just another faceless cog in the wheel, powerless amongst the tyranny of bureaucracy.

Thankfully… Read more at The Minimalists