Thinking about change

in the spirit of New Year's resolutions

“Here I sit broken-hearted. Had to shit but only farted.”

A sign above the toilet in a bathroom in a bar. Somewhere. Lots of bars probably. I’ve seen it in a few. I’ve been in quite a few. Not sure the number exactly. More than a few. Quite a few. Bars. Bathrooms in bar.

Hmm. Poof! Ahh…hmmm. Brrrrruppp. Yup. Sitting at my desk several times this last weekend and week, I started a draft essay. I looked at it. I got up. I walked away. How is it that I have so much to say and nothing to write down? Rare—I think—so far.

Good for you! You’re doing great, the comedian Tom Papa said to me last Saturday night from the stage of Joe Rogan’s new Comedy Mothership in downtown Austin. He didn’t actually say it just to me but rather to everyone. Good for you!

…had to shit but only farted…

I don’t really have to shit. What I mean is that I don’t have to write anything. It’s optional and its voluntary—this writing thing. I really enjoy it. People have told me they get something from it. I convince myself that I must forge ahead because that’s the way I’ve always done it. Knuckle down. Git er dun. Alas, still no good shit comes. Just braaaapppp!

Mahatma Gandhi has a famous quote about thoughts and actions:

“Your beliefs become your thoughts. Your thoughts become your words. Your words become your actions. Your actions become your habits. Your habits become your values. Your values become your destiny.

But is that middle part actually backwards for writers? Yes, your words become your actions. But in the case of writers, thoughts become action and the action makes the words appear. It’s in your head before it’s on the paper—or keypad—or whatever—you know what I mean. OK so maybe give Gandhi a little credit here. I’m still building the “habit” of writing. My friend and coach Bill Small (Artist Mind) likes to talk to me about process. He’s first and foremost a creative. Been a musician and writer his entire life. He’s got the business coaching stuff going because artists need to get paid somehow, don’t they? He also happens to be damn good at it.

Bill and I have been talking a lot about me putting myself in a position to let the muses work and discovering the message through the creative process. It works. Most of my business career I’ve been acutely focused on outcomes. The success or failure of my entrepreneurial and other job-oriented endeavors depended upon hitting marks, finishing to-do lists on firm deadlines, and flat-out making stuff happen. There isn’t really an option to quit or to “not do” something when you’re an executive or a small business owner. You’re the one that has to get it done—period—end of story. Action! Words mean something but they’re way less important.

I’ve found that writing is very different for me. Words are the currency. But outcomes are more obtuse—at least so far. I don’t have firm deadlines (maybe I should), I work when I can (which adds up to a lot), and the meaning of “done” takes on a whole new definition. I’m doing it because I love it. I’m doing it because it’s in me. Because in my 40+ years of business, I’ve never been able to exercise that muscle. I also do it because as a recovering alcoholic my 12th step mission is to bring the message to others who may need to hear it.

But as a human being, I’ve faced plenty of situations in my life where I thought long and hard and often about doing something, and then eventually, or maybe never, taking action on that something. Who hasn’t? Resolutions, weight loss attempts, exercise regimens, bad habits, a toxic relationship.

We’ve all been there. We’ve all been in the moment of damn it this time it will be different. Or I’m not going to put up with this for one more day. Or even He/she is not going to treat me like that anymore. Often, it’s this day/month/year is the time—I quit.

A common refrain among those of us that wanted to change the relationship we had with alcohol or drugs is the date-setting “quit.” I’m going to quit on my birthday in three weeks. It’ll be perfect—my 40th birthday sounds like just the day to quit this shit. I’ll quit on New Year’s Day—day after St. Patrick’s Day—right before I go visit my parents—before I go to that conference next month.

Sure ya will. How’s that working out for ya?

For an awfully long time (good word to describe that time…awfully) I thought about quitting booze. I had quit before—briefly. But now when it came time to actually take the action to quit, I would just think about it some more. Tomorrow. Next week. My birthday next year. And around we go again. Not to get all Brokeback Mountain on you, but when it came to booze, it was in fact I wish I knew how to quit you.

Willie Dixon wrote, and Otis Rush recorded, a song in 1956 called “I can’t quit you baby.”

I can’t quit you, baby
But I’ve got to put you down for awhile
You know I can’t quit you, baby
But I’ve got to put you down for awhile
Well, you messed up my happy home, babe
Made me mistreat my only child

Led Zeppelin did a version on their debut album in 1969. Great blues standard to this day and so apropos.

The concept of “one day at a time” arises out of this very quandary. It is so fundamentally common to alcoholics and addicts to simply be unable to quit, that it softens the blow to consider just doing it for today. “If I can do it for today, we’ll see what tomorrow brings.” Suddenly you look up from your life and you’ve strung together a few days. As of this writing I have 5,900+ of those days.

Back to that being human thing, it amazes me that in spite of my own history and track record, I can still struggle with thinking about change for wayyyyy too long before taking any action. Most of us do this regularly with things big or small. And usually, it’s just fine. We get away with not doing whatever we’re thinking about doing. But not so with insidious and baffling King alcohol.

So today to break my “farting” streak, I put down these words. For today I took some action. And you know what? It’s OK.

“Thinking is easy, acting is difficult, and to put one’s thoughts into action is the most difficult thing in the world.” Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe