Tag Archives: quicksand

Off the Radar

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In a sea of spotlights, where are the shadows?  With social media stalking, tireless geo tracking, and flashbulb-fanaticism waiting to pounce at every turn, the modern notion of privacy is a laughable replica of a bygone era. We are constantly held accountable to a faceless cyber public without even accepting the terms of the contract.

Our moves and minds are followed and noted. Our decisions are recorded and our secrets are revealed. We’re forced to tiptoe on top of vanishing ground, built from equal parts quicksand scrutiny and rash judgment. We cover tracks, erase browser histories, delete texts, and modify passwords. But is any of it necessary? Does anyone else really care what we’re doing? Isn’t everyone simply too busy tending to their gardens to keep track of their weird neighbor’s harvest? Our adherence to secrecy is probably born more from personal insecurity than driven by the fear of some blind existential bogeyman, waiting in the shadows to expose our various peccadilloes and indiscretions.

So what’s the fix? How can we shed the weight and stress of running away from prying eyes and curious ears? How do we ditch the peanut gallery gossip to find refuge in safer pastures? How can we quiet the static and silence that incessant buzz humming from every invisible corner of our lives?

Slide off the radar.

If you don’t want attention, stop asking for it. If a sense of peace is paramount, construct your foundation from the concrete of sturdy self-assurance, courage, and mettle. Muffle the critics by exiting the circus.

There’s a world of balance waiting inside the tranquility of an uninterrupted moment.

Don’t fear the off button. Embrace it.

Adolescence Interrupted

Listening for the Unreturned Echo

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“Sometimes the world seems like a big hole. You spend all your life shouting down it and all you hear are echoes of some idiot yelling nonsense down a hole.”      -Adam Duritz

I double-checked the address. The flap was sealed without a crease. A Forever stamp was cleanly tucked into the corner.  I watched the mail carrier slide it into his satchel. An irrefutable delivery confirmation teased the idea of progress. So why am I left staring at empty inboxes? How can every call made to the universe go unanswered? Why should a desire to bring positive change be met with such opposition?

Recently, I was discussing the sensation of life in LA with some friends. I used the metaphor of a series of tall concrete walls. Placed strategically in a circle with just enough space between them to present the false illusion of freedom, the only way to escape the enclosure is to sprint, at full velocity, directly into the unbending slab. You crash, stand up, shake the dust from your shirt, and then speed head first into the next one. Being an isolated idea maker isn’t a job for the faint-hearted.

In your mind, you believe it’s tenacity and the will to succeed. You subscribe to all the theories that recommend attacking a problem from a unique angle, never doing things the same way and expecting a different result, keeping your nose to the grindstone, etc. There is an addictive false sense of forward momentum, simply because one foot is traveling in front of the other. But racing on the surface of quicksand will only bring you so far. Like dancing in the open jaw of an alligator, execution ultimately falls short of strategy.

So, is the answer to stop trying? Should you simply refuse to acknowledge the impetus to help others through your work? Do you chalk up years of tireless toil to one giant strikeout? After innumerable swings and countless misses, do you throw the bat to the ground, shake your head, and wave that white flag?

No. Not now. Not ever.

Adolescence Interrupted