Shameless Promotion
See the world, support ecotourism.
www.ecotourism.org
The ever-forward-thinking Amit has a new project, and I'm betting it will be just as successful as the ones that proceeded it. It's a newsletter called Photojojo, and it shoots ideas and tips for making the most of your photos to your inbox twice a week. It's a beautiful site about a fun idea from a brilliant guy. You should check it out.
I'm wrapping up work this weekend on a site for The International Ecotourism Society in Washington. They hold an auction every year that is responsible for the bulk of their operating revenue, and they wanted a site that would get people excited about the vacation possibilities they had to offer. They also wanted to give the organizations donating trips an opportunity to market themselves - the majority of these groups have lofty goals and small budgets, so they appreciate any marketing opportunities they can get.
I was excited to take on the project, but knew my time contraints were limited. I needed a way to quickly get these auctions up.
Enter Wordpress.
After attending Scott Kidder's presentation at Barcamp about using Wordpress as a full-featured CMS, I thought I'd give it a try. Turns out it's surprisingly easy - Wordpress comes with a nearly infinite amount of customization possibilities, which made it easy to turn the homepage into something entirely un-blog like. The template conventions are easy to customize, allowing me to build the custom continent pages as well. Pages helped me keep track of constant information, giving me the flexibility of having dynamic and static content on the site.
There was a lot I still wanted to do to some of the internal pages, but everyone's happy with how it's turned out. It relies heavily on the beauty of the various locations to do the selling, which makes my job easier.
You can check out the site at www.ecotourismgala.org - see if you can visit the site without getting a travel bug.
If you're interested in helping promote Ecotourism, I encourage you to become a TIES member - it's only $60, you get ridiculous discounts on travel to any of their member organizations, and a free subscription to Outdoor magazine. Oh, and you help a fantastic cause.
I've got a lot of Irish in me (red hair, blue eyes, bright white skin, etc,) but for some reason I've never been all that into St. Patrick's Day. Part of it may be that I haven't the slightest idea who St. Patrick was and what he did - from what I can surmise, he was a small man who wore green and was always trying to steal marshmallows out of children's cereal. Oh, and he was blasted out of his gord.
Each year I seem to forget it's even a holiday, until someone decides to remind me by chastising me for not donning green - even as an adult, I'm still sometimes surprised by a hard pinch when I'm not paying attention. People seem genuinely upset that I - an obvious Irishman - am not sharing the holiday spirit with them. Maybe they just want me to live a little. Maybe they're upset because they're dressed up as a giant shamrock. Regardless of the reason, I inevitably hurt someone's feelings with my fairly obvious indifference.
So this year I'm going to do it differently. I'm going to show up at work decked in green from head to toe. I'm going to wish everyone a fantastic holiday. I'm going to down a dozen pints of Guiness. I'm going to be the life of the party. Yes sir, next Monday will be the best St. Patrick's day ever.
...what do you mean St. Patrick's Day is today?
Manhood is a diffiult thing to accomplish.
In the past few weeks, I've had a number of female friends talk with me at length about their difficulty in 'finding a good man.' Indeed, this seems to be something that plagues most women I've met (other than the ones I've dated, of course.) On occasion I've heard similar sentiments echoed by men, but it's been rare - their problem is usually not being happy with the women they have.
On the surface, the search for a good man doesn't sound too difficult - women generally want someone who is funny, down-to-earth, who makes them feel like they're beautiful and fun to be around, and who is at least marginally attractive. There's a segment out there that feel material wealth is important (not sure whether this is due to their biological need for security, or the fact that their purses are SOOO too summers' ago,) but by and large I don't find women to be that interested in money.
So why is the search for a good man so difficult? Are women just looking in the wrong places?
I don't think so. I tend to think that there is a significantly larger pool of talented, intriguing, fantastic women out there than there are men. I would submit that great men are in increasingly short supply.
Why is that? What defines a 'great man?' What are the characteristics and qualities that make a man one to be admired, respected?
When we think of great men, we often think of people like Michael Jordan or Bono or Steve Jobs. But we're referring to what these people represent, which isn't much - their great athleticism, their humanitarianism, their business instincts. We have extremlely myopic picutes of these men - they're cardboard cutouts.
Think of the people you know, the men you talk to and interact with on a day-to-day basis. Do you know a man who you'd define as 'great?' What are the qualities you see in them? What makes them someone worth admiring or respecting?
I look into my life and find great men in extremely short supply. In New York, I'm surrounded by men driven by power, status, and possessions. Men who think that a $300 pair of jeans or a first-name relationship with the bouncer at some club is what will put them over the top with a potential mate. They think that the value of their portfolios, or what they pay in rent, or how much they spent on alcohol last night is interesting conversation. They truly believe that unless they are waxed, trimmed, ripped and bronzed, they won't stand a chance with the girl of their dreams. They think that by rising to the head of the class in what is essentially an enormous high school they will be happy, healthy, respected and loved.
Back home isn't much better. My time in Colorado was divided between two worlds - the first was found in the pews of 20-something groups in churches all over the state. They aren't drunks, they are often extremely intelligent, and are very thoughtful. They believe the way to a woman's heart is through respect, and respect is best conveyed by standing on opposite ends of the room and avoiding eye contact. They've been raised thinking that their masculinity is somehow a bad thing, and they grow up trying to be as timid as possible. Their anger or frustration or hurt feelings are rarely confronted head-on, but rather take the form of passive-agressiveness. They've chosen to take a difficult road in search of a honest, moral girl, but often end up extremely frustrated and very alone.
The second group was the world of the guy out of college but desperately wishing he wasn't. Colorado Springs is full of thousands of guys, all spending weekend after weekend at the same five bars, hanging out with the same kids they played football with in junior high, with two goals for the evening - meet and charm a beautiful girl with their stories of past glory, and make the best penis joke.
I'm making gross generalizations, and I understand that. But I have story after story of women who can't find a guy worthwhile. The men they meet seem nice enough, but underneath the surface lies a string of extremely common blemishes - vanity, greed, envy, self-loathing, guilt, anger, bitterness, and messed-up priorities. These guys routinely make their women feel ugly, stupid, useless, unworthy of being loved.
Some may argue that a great man is a very difficult thing to define, but I don't think it is.
A great man is honest - with others, with himself. He isn't afraid to point out his flaws, but confronts them openly. He lets you know that he is bruised and broken, just like we all are - and lets you know that it's okay.
A great man is outgoing - not in a used car salesman kind of way, but in a "I like getting to know people, because I appreciate that they have something extremely special and compelling about them" kind of way. They make you feel like you are the most important person in the room, because to them you actually are.
A great man loves variety - they cherish new experiences and surroundings. They constantly look for ways to stretch themselves, to learn things they didn't know before, to see things that they haven't seen before. They aren't afraid to challenge who they are and what they believe in.
A great man has a sense of humor - they recognize that laughter is one of humanity's greatest gifts. Their jokes are kind, sincere, and heartfelt - not meant to cut someone else down but to make everyone around them feel good.
A great man loves creativity for its own sake - they're able to appreciate a painting or piece of architecture or the accomplishments of a business without envy. They love that things exist, and care not who it was that made it.
A great man is generous - with his time, his money, his attention, his energy. He recognizes that the things that remain in this world have nothing to do with the cars or the houses or the jeans, but rather with the time spent with others, the charities granted to those who need it, the personal conversations had with hurting friends.
A great man cherishes their friends and family - they develop close relationships with people and go out of their way to make their loved ones actually feel that love. They call often, visit often and actively try to make those close to them feel special.
A great man loves women, but in a different kind of way. They look at women as the pinnacle of creation - beautiful, intelligent, soft, loving, emotionally-connected in a way they never can be, nurturing, and in most ways their superior. They don't belittle them, don't try to puff themselves up at the woman's expense, would never think of hurting them. They understand that a woman wants to be wrapped up in an adventure, wants to be treated as the beautiful creation that they are, and wants to be reminded constantly of how utterly unique and perfect they are. Their eyes don't wander, their hearts don't covet what is not theirs, and they feel extremely blessed to have the women that they have.
A great man believes they are part of a plan, that they are put on this earth for a reason, to play a part in a story. They aren't afraid to tell others about that story, aren't afraid to pass up opportunities because of that story, aren't afraid to suffer because of that story. Their belief in that story does not make them weak, but it does make them patient, humble, kind-hearted, generous and self-controlled. It gives them a heart unafraid to love unconditionally and regardless of reciprocity. It makes them able to stand up to injustice, makes them able to recognize when they've screwed up, makes them confident that their lives are headed somewhere. It gives them a heart full of love, because they already know that they receive love to a degree they could never fully appreciate or understand. They see people not as evil, but as broken, hurt, missing a piece of their hearts. And they live each day hoping to help people find that missing piece, to let them know that regardless of what happens in this fast-paced, McDonalds and Ipod and television world, that they are loved - by the great man, and by the great man's Father.
This kind of man can't help but be respected, admired - and ironically this kind of man couldn't care less about having such respect or admiration. This kind of man is rare indeed - this kind of man would change our world, our companies, our governments, our relationships.
I wish there were more men like this - I wish I were like this myself.
Via Sean.
I'm blown away by this. Do you know anyone as talented as this guy?
I saw Capote last night. Pretty disturbing film.
It made me think back to when I was doing my best writing, my most vigorous thinking. It was at a time in my life when I was most unhappy. My business was struggling, my relationship of 4 years had come to an end...it was a pretty unhappy time. But man, was it productive.
It was so easy to write with conviction and feeling, because my day was spent dealing with a myriad of emotions. I was a wreck, constantly thinking about this thing or that, constantly feeling sorry for myself, and the words flew out of me like a broken dam.
These days, I find it difficult to write with the same energy, the same emotion. And I think it's because my life is amazingly good right now - the best it's ever been. The most amazing woman I've ever met is in Chicago picking out a dress that she's going to wear one time, at a fancy dinner in September with all our friends. I have a great job doing work I enjoy with colleagues who are young and talented and fun to be around, and I have the utmost confidence that whatever comes next will be even better. I have enough money to pay my bills, save, and still eat fantastic food most nights of the week. I have a small but fantastic circle of friends, a loving family. I'm a bit heavier than I'd like, but all in all I'm in good heath. Life is good.
Unfortunately, none of that makes great material. At best it's boring, at worst it makes people angry that someone could have things so well.
I'm beginning to wonder if people like Capote were great artists because they were screwed up, or if they became screwed up because they wanted to be great artists. I wonder if people intentionally make their relationships difficult because it makes for better stories at the bar or in their blog. I wonder if people sabatoge their lives in the interest of maintaining that dry, sarcastic, glass-is-half-empty wit that has served them so well around the water cooler and at dinner parties and on first dates.
Stop trying to be interesting and try being truly happy. I promise you'll like it - even if you're writing suffers as a result.
Every few weeks I get reminded that I work too much. I have a day like today, a day spent at the house watching Walk The Line, eating and being unproductive...and it noticably upsets me. I like to work, and when I don't I feel as though I'm wasting time.
What is that?
I believe strongly that our work is a form of prayer. Work came before Eve took a bit out of fruit - part of human existence is to engage in and enjoy the creative process.
But only to a point - a point that I routinely blow past. I don't know how to put it down. I've worked this way since college, and it's turned me into a very dull person.
Worse, it's turned me into a very dry person. You're not meant to live this way. It's been about three years since I graduated, and I've gotten into this mode where from the moment I get up until the moment I go to sleep I'm doing, doing, doing.
I don't think I'll ever be able to become a 9-5 type - I'd probably go crazy with all the downtime. But there comes a point where you have...to....stop.
I desperately hope a day doesn't come when I have regret - regret caused by not turning the computer off enough, not stepping outside enough, not calling up my friends enough, not playing enough. Not slowing down enough to enjoy life, to be a better friend and family member and....husband. A better father.
Why is it so hard to let go of our goals, our agendas, our plans long enough to just enjoy life the way God wants us to? Why is it so difficult to forget about our to-do list for the week, forget about the things we're trying to accomplish long enough to enjoy this beautiful world, the smell of the air, the sound of people laughing, the taste of that cup of coffee I'm gulping down, the feelings behind the voice on the other side of the table?
Why do I have to keep reminding myself that my work is never going to give me what it is I'm thirsty for, that thing that God is so eager to give me if I just put the work down and ask?
Who's going to get that mockup done while I'm 'at peace?'
Had a great dinner last night with some good friends at work, and the discussion turned to my love for entrepreneurship. Why do I think that it's such a noble and worthwhile endeavor? Why do I believe in it so much? When you see all the ills that are brought upon the world by a capitalist society, by massive corporations that used to be slightly smaller organizations that at one point in time were started by an enterprising man or woman in the shower or in a bar scribbled on a napkin - if the end result of that creative spark is so negative, why do I believe in it?
The simple answer is that I believe in what those people represent. I believe that we're put on this world for a reason. I believe we're given enormous talents and skills for a reason. And I believe there are two reasons we're given those talents - first, to bring glory to the source of our gifts, and secondly to use those gifts to imrpove the lives of others.
I believe entrepreneurship is the perfect vehicle to accomplish both of these goals. The entrepreneur must have a vision that goes beyond themselves. They must believe so strongly in something that they're willing to sacrifice their personal well-being - their financial, emotional and sometimes physical health - in the pursuit of their idea.
The entrepreneur has the chance to look into the world and identify opportunity. They have the chance to create a product or service or experience that will make the lives of their customers a little bit better. They have a chance to create a company that makes the lives of their employees a little bit better. And they have the chance to make the lives of their shareholders a little bit more comfortable as well.
This isn't to say that the entrepreneur always takes advantage of this opportunity. Quite the contrary - far too many entrepreneurs choose to create something solely to line their pockets. They speak not in terms of building a company and a culture that fulfills some big important goal, but rather in terms of how much they want to sell for, or the time frame in which they hope to go public. They care little for their employees, little for their customers. They think of ways to convince the customer their product is amazing rather than making the product amazing in the first place.
It's true - these people exist, in large numbers. But their behavior doesn't change my opinion about entrepreneurship, just as the frequency of serial killers doesn't change my opinions on capital punishment. There will always be the best of us and the worst of us in humanity. I just happen to believe that the impact felt by the perfect entrepreneur would far surpass the impact felt by the perfect artist or sculptor or basketball player or lawyer.
And that's what I push towards - the hope that someday I will either be associated with that perfect entrepreneur, wrapped up in something grand and meaningful and life-giving - or I'll come as close as I'm able to being that perfect entrepreneur myself. A lot of pressure to put on oneself or on another person - but I believe it's infinitely more worthwhile than the pressure to beat earnings estimates or to cash out for X million.
For all my character flaws, I feel as though I'm generally a pretty good natured guy. But these past few weeks I've been extremely angry.
The majority of clients we work with are fantastic - good natured, easy going, and excited to be collectively striving to acheive a shared goal. But once in a while you get a bad apple.
For some reason, we have a disproportionate share of bad apples in the form of faith-based schools. Again, most have been great to work with. But we've had a few recently that seem to absolutely contradict their beliefs via their behavior.
The irony in some of the emails I get is so heavy I feel like my desk is going to break under the weight. The following represents an exaggeration, but by the tiniest of degrees:
Dear Sean,I woke up this morning hoping it'd be a good day, but I see you've decided to destroy such a wish. I'm sure I've worked with more idiotic companies in the past, I just can't seem to think of one off-hand. If you'd consult the copy we submitted to your incapable hands on February 12th, you'll clearly see that the second paragraph on page two is supposed to say "...our culture is the product of our students and their relationship with Christ. With God as their counsel and guide, they conduct themselves with dignity, patience and grace." You misspelled the fifth word, idiot. Call me when you've fixed this, and when you've gotten a clue.
This client has called our salespeople shady, our designers incompetent, our editorial staff lazy and our client services team liars. For a company that is used to having productive client relationships, regular recommendations to other departments in the university, and clients who volunteer to stand up in front of their peers to testify to the effectiveness of our programs, these couple of clients have represented enormous drains on resources and employee morale.
In a way, though, dealing with these couple clients has been an enormous blessing. I used to wonder why so many people criticize Christians when they slip up, or when they exhibit patterns of behavior that seem contrary to their theology. But now I get it.
Engaging with these few bad apples has seriously upset me. I've never felt as ashamed to be associated with Christianity as I am when my colleagues read the emails that are blasted their way from these folks in Christian higher ed. It is absolutely appalling that they don't recognize the sharpness in their words, don't understand that every single word that comes out of their mouths or is typed into a correspondence has an impact on what people think of their faith. They, of all people, should know that their obligations as representatives of their university pale in comparison to their obligations as witnesses of the faith they claim to profess. I pray their institutions don't produce graduates of simliar character.
I get it now - Christians are held to a standard, whether we realize it or not. People are often dispositioned against the beliefs already, and any character flaws, vices, or careless words serve as fuel on an already smoldering fire. I don't claim to be a great (or even average) carrier of the proverbial torch, but when I see an email from one of these clients taking something that my team has put a ton of energy into and just rip it to shreds, it breaks my heart. Not because we have more work to do, but because of the bad taste it leaves in the mouths of everyone they come in contact with.
You claim to walk with God - I fear you took an enormous fork in the road somewhere. Open up that Bible you claim to love to much and read try reading it again - you skipped a few testaments.
Someone smiled at me on the subway ride home from dinner tonight. And it really threw me for a loop.
In the bustle of the city, where everyone has a million places to go and a million things to do, we've trained ourselves to channel out the people around us. It's funny - I remember when I first got to New York and how enthralled I was with everything - with everyone.
I remember watching the old woman yelling from her fourth floor walk-up accross the street to her friend at the coffee shop below. I remember thinking about how they had probably lived in the same neighborhood for decades, and how they probably liked to sit around on the bench in front of their building on a Sunday morning, sipping coffee and gossiping about their neighbors.
I remember sitting in the coffee shop being served by a wait staff that was entirely from Russia, wondering how they all ended up in the same city at the same time, how they found each other, wondering what their hopes and dreams were that were powerful enough to compel them to make the trek accross the world to this itty bitty island.
I remember the first time I saw a guy walk through a subway car asking for money, watching as most people stared straight ahead as if he weren't there, muttering under their breath about how his story about being a veteran was just a ploy, a method to justify the fact that they had over $2,000 in shoes or ties in the bag in front of them yet weren't willing to part with the fiver in their wallet. I remember wondering what his life was like, what series of events got him to the position he was now in, the humiliation he must have felt in the beginning asking people for handouts, and the kind of strength it would take to deaden such humiliation.
I remember the models walking by my girlfriend's neighborhood on a crowded Saturday afternoon, holding a dozen bags, wearing enormous furry boots and carrying teacup poodles in their purses. I remember wondering what they were like as kids, wondered which small town in Kansas or North Dakota they were from, wondered how often they call home to their parents, wondered if they were lonely.
My shock at that girl smiling at me on the train was surprising because I realized that in the short span of a year, I've managed to lose that wonder. I've been assimilated into the New York way of living, running from place to place, iPod blasting, not looking up at the amazing architecture, not noticing the people I pass by, staring straight ahead as the guy walks down the subway car asking for money.
The wonder we once had when we move here fades away so quickly. These days it's relegated to the briefest of moments, catching a glimpse of the Chrystler Building as the sunlight is bouncing off of it, watching an obscure play in a dive theater with the most amazing actors you've ever seen, eating a meal that makes you forget about the mountain of work at the office and the ills of the world. The rest of the time, you're focused, cold, hardened to the outside world. At least I am.
That girl was smiling very sincerely, not in a "I'd like your number" kind of way (for one thing, I'm slowly turning into a pear and any attractiveness I once had is rapidly deteriorating,) but in a "I wonder where he's coming from and where he's going. I wonder what he's listening to so intently. I wonder why he's frowning a little bit" kind of way.
She must be new here.
Bought my first shares of stock on Tuesday - $100 in a silver mine.
In the past two days, the stock has jumped 20%.
Now that I've paid for the wedding...
