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Jason Wilber was John Prine’s longtime lead guitarist and musical director. John died during this pandemic. Jason released a new album after John passed. It’s entitled, Time Traveler and contains a song, Poet’s Life. Today’s show title is a lyric from that song.

How do you measure a pleasure or an itch?

I don’t know. But I don’t know how you measure sadness, sorrow or disappointment either? So my inability to measure such things runs in every direction.

I’ve been sharing way too much Billy Strings with the private Facebook group lately. Billy Strings is William Apostol. He’s a 27 year old guitar whiz kid who combines heavy metal with bluegrass. Yeah, I know. Sounds nuts, right? Well, it’s not nuts. It’s brilliant.

Billy is one of those artists that I’ll binge on a few times a year. I’ll just listen and watch everything I can for 2 weeks straight. Mostly in complete amazement at how somebody can be so proficient at something at such a young age. I look over in the corner at my encased acoustic guitar, which I’m unable to play – and I think of measuring the value of a guitar in Billy’s hands versus a guitar in my hands. At least you could kinda sorta measure that by looking at how much income Billy earns playing the guitar versus the zero dollars I’ll ever earn with a guitar. My only chance of making money on a guitar is if I sell mine!

I grew up hearing preachers deliver sermons about the powerful impact of godly women. Much of the time they’d speak of how priceless a godly wife, mother or grandmother was. And since I had all three, I can attest to the high value they deliver. But I’m not able to measure it.

Proverbs 31:10 “Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.”

I can’t play the guitar, but I sure do enjoy watching and listening to Billy Strings perform. In the last 2 weeks, I’ve likely spent over 50 hours listening to my Billy Strings’ records (okay, they’re digital) and watching his YouTube concerts. I love watching the guy perform. Many nights in the last 2 weeks his songs have been earworms.

Many things are hard to measure.

But maybe it’s worth asking, “Why measure them anyway?”

The square, super-logical among us would say, “Because you can’t make progress unless you can measure it.” Check out The Squircle Academy if you want to investigate circles and squares.

Ridiculous. Of course, you can make progress in something that can’t be measured.

Some aspects of love may be measurable, but it’s pretty hard.

John 15:13 “Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.”

So there’s the pinnacle, right? Hatred is at the opposing extreme I reckon. But what about all that space in between?

I fell in love with my wife in the summer of 1975. After 42 years of marriage, I love her more now than then. I don’t have any paperwork to prove it. Nor do I have any assessment I can show off to her. I just know how I feel and what I think. I can measure it intuitively. By how important she is to me. By how devastated I’d be if something bad were to happen to her. By how lonely I’d be without her. By the value she provides to my life.

Family. Friends. Allies. Mentors. Teachers.

How do you measure their value?

Billy Strings said this in a magazine interview…

Those moments are what I cherish the absolute most. For instance, when I was six or seven years old, I was learning “Beaumont Rag,” and I just played the rhythm, but I kept messing it up in this one part. Right in the middle of the song, I said, “Stop. Dad, why don’t you play it and let me listen?” I listened to what he was trying to say with the guitar, and I go, “Now, let me try it again,” and I nailed it. He started laughing. He reached over his guitar and squeezed my little hand. He called my grandmother and said, “Listen to your grandson right now!” I was a little kid, but I’ll never forget that moment. Now there have been several moments since then, like when I got to introduce my dad to David Grisman in real life because my dad introduced me to David Grisman when I was seven years old. We got to sing songs all night.

Let me play a little audio snippet of an evening where Billy Strings and Brian Sutton were playing together. Billy starts the conversation. 

Now listen to an onstage interview Billy gave during one of his band’s live shows. Here he talks about the influence of his father. 

Ask Billy to measure the gift his dad gave him. I’m pretty sure he’ll tell you there’s no way he can measure it.

That’s why years ago MasterCard developed that advertising strategy with a single punchline, “priceless.” Some things can’t be measured with dollars. Truth is, some things can’t be measured with anything.

Well, back to the lyric of Jason Wilber’s song – It’s Hard To Measure A Pleasure Or An Itch

Measuring some things is difficult. Especially things such as what we find joyous or pleasurable. Or pursuits that drive us (aka, itches we have that we just must scratch).

The implication is that we’re attempting to measure our own pleasure or itch. You may think, “Well, who else would measure it?” Oh, plenty of people are willing to judge our every move. Surely they’d be willing to take a crack at measuring our pleasure or itch.

Is it hard? Is it impossible? Maybe not.

We invest more of ourselves in things that matter to us. But it’s not always an accurate measurement of pleasure or an itch.

For example, I know some people who invest quite a lot in caring for a family member desperate for their help. It’s not pleasure or an itch. Doesn’t mean they hate it or resent it, but they’re not doing it for themselves. They spend quite a lot of time in the pursuit because the person matters that much to them. Self-sacrifice may be tougher to measure than our own pleasure or itches. Or maybe it’s easier for those fixated on what they’re giving up. That’s why you often hear folks prone to feeling victimized complain of what they could be, or what they could be doing “if only.” Sometimes, those measurements aren’t terribly accurate though. People often enjoy imaging loftier outcomes than are realistic. “If only I could devote myself to my own pursuits, then I’d be world-class.” Maybe. But not likely! 😉

I digress.

Pleasure.

An itch.

Why does my mind go to illicit pursuits or selfish behavior? I wish it didn’t, but it often does because of the nature of my work. Coaching and supporting people means helping them through difficult times. There’s lots more of that than helping people jump on obvious – or not so obvious – opportunities. We all have tough times that require more than we may think we have to give. And in so many cases, I find myself talking with somebody about betrayal, pain, sorrow, suffering. Often caused by the selfish pursuits of others.

We jump on a Zoom call for a scheduled session. He’s off. Something is clearly preoccupying him today. I inquire.

He breaks down and tells me of a teenage son who is pursuing drugs and alcohol. How do you measure that kind of pleasure or itch on the part of his son? A broken life. A broken father. A family turned upside down. The damage is immeasurable. We both realize the cost of this ordeal will likely last for a long time. Perhaps lifetimes.

So let’s restrict the conversation to honorable, not-quite-so-selfish, and moral pursuits or pleasures. 

I’m tired of all the time Adversity requires of each of us. I’m exhausted thinking and talking about hatred, betrayal, and all the other ways we’re able to impose harm on others. The unkindness and other foul behavior in the name of our selfish pursuits of happiness. “I deserve to be happy!” That sound you hear is me retching over in the corner. You hear it when a husband cheats on his wife. Or a wife cheats on her husband. We can justify violating our marriage vows…proving we can justify almost anything. Including a teenage boy willing to throw his life away to get high – and the lives of his family who love him and are desperate to save him.

“The business of life is the acquisition of memories,” said Mr. Carson of Downton Abbey fame. I loved that show. Some great quotes in every episode.

What memories are we acquiring? What memories are we helping others acquire? It may be among the ways we can manage a pleasure or an itch. By gauging our memories and the memories others around us report.

You heard now 27-year-old Billy Strings talk about events that happened in his life when he was just a child. Seven-year-old children know little about a pleasure or an itch. Mostly, the 7-year-olds who have and do occupy my life just want to play and have fun. But they’ll grow up and remember things. Little Billy has turned into one of the planet’s very best guitar players. His pleasure playing the guitar and his itch to use it as his voice first set sail when he was just a little boy surrounded by family who loved music. Particularly a father who loved it so that he passed it onto his son forming a bond that seems to only grow stronger over time.

There’s a great video of Billy presenting his dad with a custom made guitar from Preston Thompson Guitars, a Billy Strings Signature model – specifically #1 of 33.

There’s a great story Billy shared on Thompson Guitars’ YouTube channel about his dad’s original Martin D-93.

He’s 17 when he buys the guitar back. Which means he was about 11 when his dad had to sell it. That’s a pretty big impact on an 11-year-old boy to scrape together $700 for three months in a row. Not to mention the letter-writing campaign and salesmanship to get the seller to cooperate. That’s how you measure a pleasure or an itch. By the sacrifice and action taken.

There’s our answer.

Sacrifice. Action. 

That’s how you measure a pleasure or an itch.

There are at least a gazillion examples. Since I’ve been on a Billy Strings binge I was thinking of a documentary I saw years ago on Chet Atkins. He grew up in extreme poverty. Introverted by nature, Chet found it easy to sit alone with a guitar in his hands. He confessed he could sit and play for hours. Spending time with the guitar was an accurate measure of the pleasure and the itch Chet had to play the guitar.

The documentary ended with Chet saying this…

“If you’re lucky in this world, you’ll be born in the country, and at an early age somebody will give you a guitar and you’ll play it with your fingers. That’s what it’s all about.”

Who knows how many kids are born in the country, given a guitar at an early age, but don’t end up being very good at playing the guitar. Much less, how few are talented enough and dedicated enough to earn a living at it. Never mind being good enough to become like Chet Atkins. But those are measurements of success, not measurements of a pleasure or an itch. Or are they?

Effort versus success is a long-standing debate. I don’t claim to have superior insight, but it seems evident that success requires a degree of effort, but effort won’t guarantee success.

Barry Sanders is in the NFL Hall of Fame. He was a running back for the woeful Detroit Lions, after playing college ball for Oklahoma State University. He walked away from the game in the prime of his professional life. Partly because football wasn’t much of a pleasure or an itch. Seems improbable given his success, but his talent was exceptional. Sometimes we see people who are extremely good at something whose pleasure doesn’t match the success.

I’m thinking of all those people – from ex-Presidents to famous Hollywood actors – who enjoy painting and spend lots of time at it. Their success isn’t in painting, but that’s their itch. That’s what gives them pleasure. They don’t do it for success.

I could argue that their success in whatever they’re known for (from politics to sports to acting) affords them to luxury of spending time doing something purely for the enjoyment. Unleashed from having to earn their income from it, they can dive in just because they love it so.

It’s a complicated thing trying to measure things that aren’t so easily measured.

Sacifice and action work…until you insert outcomes. That sparks further debate. Why must we pin outcomes on all this? Because it’s what we do. It’s how we gauge most things. Maybe that’s worth rethinking. Perhaps we ought to challenge that.

Is it because we live in a capitalistic society here in America? Is it because we’re so competitive? Is it because we love to compare ourselves against others? Is it because we love to keep score?

Yes, yes, yes and yes. Likely.

True confession: One of the things that prompted today’s episode was my realization that I love to do a number of things that have no real outcome other than I love them. And I won’t dive too deeply into things like appreciating things such as great cartoons or music. You might argue those aren’t requiring any action on my part. Some would say they’re passive. I’m not so sure about that, but I think I understand the point. I’m not drawing the cartoons. I’m not creating the music. So how profitable could it be? Well, thankfully profitable isn’t the barometer. Pleasure or an itch…those are the things that matter in today’s conversation.

I can’t truly measure the pleasure I get or the itch I have to listen to music. But I can measure my sacrifice and action in time spent doing it. It’s a lot. Sometimes I’m doing nothing nothing else, but that’s not the norm. Mostly I’m doing something else with the headphones on. But sometimes I’m walking. Other times I’m sitting and doing nothing else. Still, there are hours and hours spent listening to songs. So it’s important.

Because I could be doing something else.

My wife listens to audiobooks. I’ve not listened to more than 10 audiobooks in my entire life. I love to read and I’ll spend hours doing that, too. But I don’t listen to audiobooks.

I love to podcast, but I’ll really blow your mind. I can’t tell you the last podcast I listened to. That’s right. Especially since this pandemic hit, I don’t think I’ve listened to a single podcast. Maybe snippets of some here and there, but barely even that. I love this communication though.

I love music, but I don’t love creating it because I haven’t a clue how. Plus I lack the talent. Fact is, I have a lifelong habit of failing to make the sacrifices or take the action necessary to learn. It’s clearly not important to me. Not like listening is.

I once spent a lot of time drawing, but I’ve not done that since college. I love Ballard Street cartoons though. I’ve spent time and money (sacrifice and action) proving how enjoyable Ballard Street is to me. I’ve spent no time in the last 45 years improving my ability to create cartoons.

I’ve spent years and countless hours behind the mic podcasting but I’ve spent very little time with headphones on listening to podcasts. I much prefer music over podcasts when it comes to consumption, but not when it comes to creation.

These aren’t up for argument in my life any more than they are in your life. We like what we like. We loath what we loath. Why? Sometimes we know. Sometimes we don’t.

I’m unable to measure it.

Take that Chet Atkins quote. He was born in poverty in eastern Tennessee. I wasn’t.

He picked up a guitar that belonged to a brother who played. The brother was 14 years older.

I don’t even have a brother. Much less an older brother who knew how to play.

Like Billy Strings, Chet’s family played music. My family only played records.

Would I behave differently if my circumstances had been different? We’ll never know. This is where the measuring thing really challenges us. Our imaginations go to work on what might have been.

Late in high school and in early college I could see myself writing for a living. But I remember telling friends, “I don’t know any writers. They all live up in the northeast.” Well, that wasn’t true, but it was indicative of how we can perceive things and how those perceptions can fuel our choices. I knew of great southern writers. And of others from the northwest. But my generalization was merely the statement of a younger man who just couldn’t see himself in a role because I knew nobody personally who did it.

So did the itch or pleasure leave? No. It morphed. Into podcasting. Blogging. Creating tons of notebooks. Never mind that I wasn’t able to make a living doing the things. I made sure I did them anyway.

It doesn’t make them more or less valuable. It just makes them part of our lives. We trade things. Sacrifice.

Rather than play music I listened to it.

Rather than listen to podcasts, I create them.

Rather than listen to books, I read them.

Those are personal choices I make. That’s how I’m able to measure my own pleasure and itches.

There was once a man who said to me constantly, “I’ve scratched every itch I ever had.” I haven’t. Because many of them were pretty fleeting itches. Or the pleasures weren’t strong enough 0r valuable enough to give something up instead.

Life is a constant calculation – whether on the fly or with long-term planning. Is it worth it?

Is it worth putting headphones on while clicking play to another Billy Strings’ concert? For you, maybe not. For me? At 3am when I’m not able to sleep. You bet. All night long. In fact, while I’m writing this I’m watching – for the umpteenth time – his concert in 2019 at Red Rocks.

“I used my only phone call to contact my daddy…I got 20 long years for some dust in a baggie.” 😀

By the time I was 20 I had learned a very hard truth. Many of us are in love with being able to do something, but we’re not in love with the process of actually doing it. My love of guitar taught me that. I was a slow learner. 😉

In 1974 I bought a brand new book by Tom Wheeler. Tom was a writer for Guitar Player magazine, eventually became the chief editor in 1981. A corporate takeover of the magazine caused him to jump ship to become a professor of journalism at the University of Oregon. He died in 2018 when he was 70. I share that because it was his book that occupied me for 3 years before I concluded the truth of my life. I was more in love with being able to play the guitar than I was actually spending time learning to play. In my mind, I can imagine what it might be like to play like Billy Strings. What I’m unable to imagine is the countless hours spent figuring out how to play, which is exactly why Billy Strings is Billy Strings and I’m not. Well, that and the big talent gap between us. 😀

That’s how you measure a pleasure or an itch.

Sacrifice. Action.

What are you willing to give up so you can have something?

Chet was playing in the boy’s restroom of the little country school because the acoustics were so good in there. What were the other boys doing? Chet says the ones who had any money were rolling dice in that same bathroom in an opposite corner from where he sat playing his guitar. Had I been at that school, I’d have likely been outside with a football. It still wouldn’t have resulted in an NFL career though!

The process is almost always unpleasant and ugly for those of us who aren’t doing it. It can even be unpleasant for us sometimes.

Did Billy Strings ever suck at the guitar? Of course. Probably not for long, but I’m only guessing. Only his family likely knows or remembers.

First efforts are sparked more by itch than pleasure. I’m willing to speculate based largely on what I know of Billy that he wanted to be able to play like his dad, who is a really good picker. The pleasure of practice was the sacrifice and action sparked because the itch was so strong. In time, the practice became increasingly more pleasurable. Soon enough, it was what Chet experienced. It was simply playing because he loved it so. Talent kicked in catapulting him past his peers.

My itch wasn’t strong enough to be scratched. When it came to the guitar, I had a very minor mosquito bite. Billy had full blow poison ivy.

That measurement was key for me.

You can’t have everything. Nobody can. It’s a fool’s errand to think otherwise.

Billy Strings has a celebrity net worth (you know you check out that website) of $5 million. His dad has the chops to have played music for a living, but he never did. What he did do is teach a little boy, his stepson. A little boy he clearly loves every bit as much as if he were his own biological offspring.

Billy is now 27. When I was 27 I didn’t have a net worth (celebrity or otherwise) of $5 million. But I had a little boy and a little girl. I had a wife I’d been married to almost 7 years. I had a fairly successful business career. I had a mentor who was helping me learn more about the Bible. I was very active at church, which was the priority. I gave up some things so I could grab other things that mattered more. So did my wife. And together, as a couple, we gave us some things together so we could have other things we felt were more important. More valuable to us.

“I made different choices.” 

We can all say that when we compare our lives to others. Or to some ideal we have of what our life may have been like.

You measure a pleasure or an itch by the choices you made – and are making. Not by the choices you failed to make. Even if they’re choices you wish you would have made.

Maybe that’s why the process has to matter more than the outcome. It’s why Billy Strings loves playing the guitar and I enjoy listening to guys and gals like him play. He admits he knows he’s blessed to play for a living, but acknowledges he’d be playing any way. And I believe him. I know I’d be listening no matter what.

We love to fascinate our imaginations with what might have been – mostly fixating on the most positive outcomes. In bedrooms and small spaces all over the world are children with guitars in hand dreaming of being Billy Strings or their favorite guitarist. Some are putting in the work. Others, not so much. But they’re all dreaming. Time will tell perhaps – perhaps not – if some have a strong enough itch or pleasure coupled with talent to make the dream a reality.

Billy Strings is having success, but he’s not likely ever going to displace Taylor Swift. She’s worth an estimated $360 million. To be fair, she’s 3 years older than Billy though so she’s got a head start.

You know how I know he loves it. Watch his face when he’s playing (the way he looks while playing in the summer of 2014 above is how he still looks). Except for this pandemic he’s playing 200 shows a year and has been doing for the past few years. He earning fans the hard way – playing live. You don’t hear his stuff on radio or TV. He loves playing. He loves performing. And he’s playing bluegrass coupled with a heavy metal vibe. Pop music is way more profitable. Another reason I know he loves it. He’s devoted to the genre, not because there’s money in it, but because it’s who he is and what he loves. His itch IS his pleasure.

Pursuit is worth the action and sacrifice. 

Do you measure a pleasure or an itch by whether or not you can succeed at it?

Some do. And I get it.

I’m often said, “If it’s worth fighting for, then it’s worth winning.” And I’ve often asked, “Why fight unless there’s hope of victory?”

But I’m not sure that’s correct. Sometimes the fight is worth fighting just because you enjoy the fight.

I used to box with my next-door neighbor, Ray. I loved boxing. Ray knew what he was doing. I had no clue. Ray got in fights at school. I never have been in a fistfight. Ever. But I loved the process. Boxing was fun. Even if I did get punched in the nose by Ray time and time again. Until I learned how to hit him in the nose, which was way yonder more fun! But still, I just enjoyed boxing. Even if I lost, it was fun because the process was pleasurable.

Doing. 

Does the itch compel you to do something you wouldn’t otherwise do?

Do you enjoy doing it? Enough that you’ll forego doing something else?

Many nights I’d just soon have on headphones and have Billy Strings – or somebody else – playing in my ears than sleep. And I rather love sleep, but evidently I love listening to music more. Other nights, like now, I’ll add one more action to the equation. Writing. The itch is thinking about all this stuff and trying to figure out ways to communicate it to you. I don’t claim to be good at it, but I absolutely do love it. If not, then I wouldn’t do it. I’d do something else. Find another itch to scratch.

Have you ever tried to manage such things? For instance, have you ever tried to increase your passion for something because you know you’re not pursuing it? I’m curious how that worked out for you because I’ve never been able to fabricate it myself. Maybe I’m just inept at it. For me, it’s every bit like having a preference for one flavor of milkshake over another. It just is what it is and I have no real understanding of why. But if I were to try to make strawberry milkshakes be my favorite I’d still likely fail, even though I love strawberry flavor. I’m more likely to pick vanilla even over the chocolate and I love chocolate, too. I don’t know why. I can’t influence it to be something it’s not though.

Maybe you can. I’d love to hear about it if you’ve been able to influence your itches like that. I’d imagine it’s quite powerful if you can make yourself have an itch where one didn’t exist, or if you can intensify an itch where one wasn’t strong enough to fuel you to take some real action.

Let me give one final thought a go. I wonder if this resonates with you. I often get way too fascinated with wondering what itch I might be able to take better advantage of, but I just don’t have the itch. Mostly, I wonder about unrealized talent. I wonder what I might be very good at, but I’ve never tried it because I just lack the itch. Do you ever wonder that about yourself?

I’m pretty sure all of us have talents we’ll never know about. There’s no evidence that I’m right, of course. It’s just intuition. But it seems logical given how many things a human could pursue. I would have made different choices perhaps if I had the insight into such things. By the 7th grade, I knew math wasn’t likely going to be a dominant player in my future. I knew words and speech likely were. From an early age, I sorta figured communication would be in my wheelhouse and science would not be.

Maybe we just enjoy imagining what it might be like to be world-class at something because most of us aren’t world-class at anything. I’m not naive enough to think that’s possible, but I am mature enough to know it doesn’t matter. We can provide big value without being world-class. Still, it’s nice to imagine what it might be like to be top-notch at something. That’s why Billy Strings and other proficient musicians capture my imagination so. To pick up a guitar and be able to play with other musicians and follow them wherever they go musically is just something beyond my ability to comprehend, but I’ve seen Billy and other musicians do it.

Don’t get me wrong. Again, I don’t think we have to be that exceptional to be super valuable to the world, but wouldn’t it be nice? I’m not that good at anything. Certainly not something that could be performed so others might notice. Which is another aspect of all this that fascinates me. I can look at Billy’s face and body when he’s playing and know how deep the pleasure goes and how big of an itch he’s got when it comes to making music on a guitar. Performance.

Most of my biggest moments have been done when nobody was looking. Business decisions. One-on-one coaching.

That suits me fine, but sometimes…wouldn’t it be nice if at least your family could see you at your best instead of your worst?

Well, it speaks to the notion that you can’t improve anything if you can’t measure it. Maybe whoever said that was onto something. If we could accurately measure a pleasure or an itch then maybe we could improve it, although it completely escapes me how!

Then again, there are some itches that shouldn’t be scratched, but that’s a whole ‘nother episode. All those selfish mongrels who chase whatever they please without any consideration to who they hurt. Which is why I began the show talking about us pursuing honorable, moral things.

Lately, I’m having a harder time identifying a pleasure or an itch – a passion, if you please. Nevermind measuring the stupid things. Perhaps I’m nearing the end of the line because I don’t much think in terms of pleasures or itches. I think more in terms of figuring out if tonight I’ll be sleeping or watching more Billy Strings. The odds are heavy in Billy’s favor!

Podcast: Play in new window | Download (Duration: 1:07:34 — 61.9MB)

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NOTE: I began preparing for this episode some days before the violent death of George Perry Floyd Jr. in Minneapolis at the hands of a police officer. As violence broke out across the country it seemed best to stay silent and observe. And listen. The irony of the title of today’s episode wasn’t lost on me. It was purely coincidental. I was already thinking very seriously about my own urge to be quieter in some specific areas of life. If you’ve listened to the COVID19 episodes you could likely figure out that my tolerance of highly opinionated, judgmental people is eroding. I’ve never much cared for it, but if the coronavirus didn’t bring such people out of the woodwork, this current ordeal surely has. I simply want you to know that today’s show is not a response to specific incidents or any news, but today’s show is mostly provoked by human behavior. Disagreement. Anger. Assumption. Judgment. Strife. Contention. No big shock really. Behaving poorly is almost always the easy choice. Doing the right thing – behaving with kindness – requires more from us. At the beginning of the pandemic, I began to post some audio sermons in a YouTube playlist entitled, In Thy Paths. The first sermon (21 minutes long) was entitled, A Certain Samaritan Answers The Question, “Who is my neighbor?” I’ve embedded it here in case you want to give it a listen. Even if you’re irreligious I hope the message will resonate with you. So with that, let’s talk about moving in silence. Thank you for hitting that play button. I know your time is valuable and I can’t properly thank you enough for giving me your time and attention. Without you, I’m just a guy talking to himself into a microphone!

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It started some time ago with Baker Mayfield, starting quarterback for the Cleveland Browns, but most notable in my book as being the OU Sooner Heisman Trophy winner. Last year I was highly entertained by him, as usual. But I’m a fan, so that’s my bias. During the offseason – and even during the season – Baker was widely criticized for being too loud and talkative. Prior to the beginning of this weird 2020 season, Baker decided it was time to start “moving in silence” – a quote from his press conference that captured my attention.

John Prine’s song had already been in my ears and on my mind, Quiet Man. And for weeks I’d been giving serious consideration to my urge to become quieter, not in a podcasting sense necessarily, but in other real-life situations. Truth was, I had made up my mind weeks ago that I was going to be much quieter in some areas of my life.

And there’s more music about silence or quiet, too. One of my favorite bands, Mandolin Orange, released an album in 2010 entitled, Quiet Little Room.

Then about a couple of weeks ago Ken Yates released a new album, Quiet Talkers. It’s like the universe was pushing, not just nudging, this idea of quietness. Something that isn’t all that hard for me. In spite of the fact that I’m a podcaster who struggles with consistency.

Thoreau wrote, “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” I’d also been thumbing through an old book (circa 1988) – a paperback that I’ve had for years entitled, “Quiet Desperation: The Truth About Successful Men.”

There are a number of books dealing with introverts which have a focus on the power of quiet.

The paradox is that I’m compelled to communicate. Until I’m not.

Then I’m even more compelled to be silent. And it can last quite a while.

I don’t read the genre, but I jotted down a quote I ran into that I thought was quite clever. Science fiction writer, Philip K. Dick crafted a great line in a novel, Valis:

“When you are crazy you learn to keep quiet.”

Perhaps I’m becoming aware of my own craziness. Maybe that’s fueling my desire to pick my spots and grow increasingly quieter. I’m not sure. How can I be? I’m crazy. 😉

I know that I’m quite fond of 3am. And have been much of my life. It’s quiet. And still. The ideal time to walk about for quietness. Not likely the safest hour, but I’ve taken plenty of chances. I figure I’ll take plenty more.

3am is magical.

But 4am ain’t bad either. John Rives delivered a brilliant 8-minute TED Talk back in 2007 that is still my most-watched TED Talk. I love it like I love 4am. Or 3am.

The silence. The quiet. The stillness. There’s something about it.

The contradiction of my own life is how much I’m a sound and communication guy. As a kid I’d come home from school and the first thing I’d do – the VERY first thing I’d do – is turn on the TV, then leave the room. I just needed the sound. It felt like opening the window to the world. Without it, the window was closed. Eventually, I’d wind my way back in the same room with the TV to watch F Troop, The Andy Griffith Show, Gilligan’s Island or McCale’s Navy. But I needed the sound.

Music. Well, if you’ve listened to at least one episode of this podcast before you understand my passion for music. And how much of it I listen to. You know that phone notification you get each week that tells you if your usage for the week is up or down? And by how much – both as a percentage and as time? Well, it’s a good thing I don’t have some kind of chip in my head tracking the hours I spend listening to music ’cause it’s a ridiculous number.

Communication. Speech was always one of my favorite subjects. It’s one of the reasons I went into journalism school at LSU. I’m very communicative. 😉

Then there’s that whole introvert/extrovert thing. We won’t even go down that bunny trail.

I figure we’re all a walking contradiction. I admit I am.

This is why in the last 6 weeks or more I’ve grown increasingly determined to shut up in some instances. I won’t bore you with the details of exactly where, but I will tell you that I was prompted to do a podcast episode about profitable disagreement over at the work podcast, The Power Of Others. It was sparked by numerous conversations with people who were frustrated with people in their lives unwilling to have or continue a discussion. In short, people with whom discussion is difficult or impossible.

I make a handful of points in that podcast ending with one final point about how we can rob ourselves of profitable disagreement (where many of the best ideas and truths are found). Avoid hitting the shut-down point. That’s the point we all reach when we just no longer want to talk because we realize the push back isn’t worth the price we pay to express ourselves. It’s counter production – even destructive – when you’re trying to rally people to accomplish something worthwhile. But sometimes people don’t want to listen to anybody else. Those smartest people in the room have little use for your ideas, thoughts, feelings, or insights. It won’t be long before you reach your shut-down point. Then, you’ll do whatever you can to distance because it’s the safe play. Frankly, I think it’s the wise play. And I’m a fan of increasing that distance continually and consistently.

The shut-down point is important in this conversation because there’s an area of my life where I’ve reached that point. There may even be more than one. What about you?

I’m betting you could quickly and easily remember when you hit a shut-down point. What prompted you going quiet? Was it because somebody didn’t listen to you? Or was it because somebody was quick with harsh judgment? Or was it because you were ridiculed? Odds are it was because somebody – or a group of somebodies – wasn’t respectful enough or kind enough to try to understand. It may not have had anything to do with you. But still you took it to heart.

For me, the quietness is driven by some strong desire. It’s not always the same. Usually, it’s the desire to stop the insanity. To stop throwing gasoline on a fire that I’d rather not have seen ignited to begin with. Sometimes it’s a quest for peace. Especially with people who may be easily inflamed. Mostly it’s driven by my complete lack of desire to be heard. The thing that provokes it can be varied, but that’s the sum total of it for me. I just reach my shut-down point and that’s all she wrote.

Baker Mayfield seems to have hit his shut-down point. At least when it comes to being the starting quarterback for an NFL team. Smart.

“Moving in silence” was an important phrase Baker used. It’s not merely being quiet while you do nothing. It’s continuing to move – presumably forward – while being silent. Baker’s profession allows him to move in silence while people can easily assess whether or not he’s putting in the work. Or how well he’s performing. Context matters. Not every area of our life – an area where we’ve hit our shut-down point – is one where we can demonstrate we’re still moving. People too often mistake silence for lack of movement.

It may look like I’m doing nothing, but I’m actively waiting for my problems to go away.

People who are always silent or quiet don’t get much attention. But folks who suddenly or over time grow quieter tend to raise suspicions. “What’s going on with him?” people ask.

I got very quiet in one particular area of my life a couple of years ago. I wasn’t sure how long it might last, but it felt like the proper thing to do. So I did it. During this pandemic, I was daily hit with doses of clarity. Me and Baker. 😉

I’m more determined than ever to join him in moving in silence in this area of my life. For starters, because it’s best for me. And it’s also best for others. So it’s pretty much a no-brainer decision.

But it’s one area. Just one area.

“Are you sure?” asks a friend. Yes, I’m very sure.

“Will it be hard?” he presses. I admit it was at first, but by now it’s truly quite easy. Likely because now after a couple of years I can tell how profitable it is for me. A man has to do what he has to do. I’m a broken record in telling people that few things are more powerful than a mind made up. My mind is made up. And my mouth is shut.

“My radio’s on, windows rolled up and my minds rolled down.” – John Prine, Long Monday

Moving is critical.

If the silence is going to be productive, it must serve a purpose. Hopefully, it benefits everybody starting with a quiet person. As a Baker Mayfield fan, I’m hopeful that his moving in silence pays off bigtime. I’m more confident in my own moving in silence, but that’s just because I’m in control of that.

Given that I’m recording this in June 2020 during this COVID19 pandemic I likely need to give context to the word “moving.” Some people are staying at home. Millions of people across the country are working from home. Staying put and staying safe isn’t synonymous with not moving though. I’m using “moving” to mean “accomplishing” or “achieving.” Like Baker, it’s about performance – performing.

Performing in silence

Somebody says, “Nobody wants to perform without attention.” The subject is charity and works of benevolence. I question, “Sure they do. You just don’t hear about it.” 😀 It’s the irony of every age, especially our live-out-loud Internet age. For example, there’s this Instagram from the actor Topher Grace, who played Eric on That 70’s Show.

Permit a quote from scripture that specifically addresses the issue.

Matthew 6:1
“Take heed that you do not do your charitable deeds before men, to be seen by them. Otherwise you have no reward from your Father in heaven.”

But where’s the fun in that?

Moving whilst shouting about it is how it’s done, right?

Besides, we all know the truth of how the world works – if you don’t blow your own horn then you won’t get credit for it. And if you don’t get credit for it, then what are you doing it for?

Many of us enjoy simple generalizations. And we can easily lean toward extreme absolutes…with terms like “never” or “always.” Never self promote versus always self promote.

Life is more complex than that though. Circumstances, situations, and context differ making one-size-fits-all approaches impractical.

Eccl. 3:7 “…A time to keep silence, And a time to speak…”

There are many times when speaking and writing are necessary because they’re helpful. Sometimes the purpose is to communicate thoughts, feelings, and ideas. Sometimes the purpose is to investigate curiosity so we can understand. Or so we can better understand. That’s not likely the wisest order of the purposes either. Firstly, we ought to be silent, listen, and ask questions in order to understand. Then, we’ll be better equipped to share our thoughts, feelings, ideas, and beliefs.

There’s another time to keep silence — when there’s no benefit to speaking up. Or when speaking up may even be detrimental.

We all encounter some circumstances when that’s the case. The key is figuring that out. Quickly.

Figuring out when to speak up and when to keep quiet is where the work begins. Figuring it out in real-time is urgent. For our own well-being and for the well-being of those around us. Unfortunately, it’s work that not everybody wants to do. Still others don’t make the work much of a priority. Yet others don’t know how to put in the work.

The easy things aren’t often the best or wisest or most profitable things. The hard things more often are.

Which is why it’s difficult for some to keep quiet. And for others to speak up.

Why it’s easy for some to be critical and judgmental, while it’s easier for others to embrace empathy and compassion.

As humans, we can all learn, improve, and grow. It largely depends on whether or not we see the benefit or value. To ourselves and to others.

“Blowing out someone else’s candle won’t make yours shine brighter. Remember that.”

So why do we do it?

Because it fools us into thinking it will make our candle shine brighter. Even if that fails, it can make us feel better about our candle’s brightness.

Maybe we do it because moving in silence is too deafening. We get trapped in our own fears and insecurities. So rather than moving in silence we lash out, judge and criticize others. Or we busy ourselves comparing ourselves to those we perceive as being more successful. Better.

A universal challenge we can likely all relate to is the fear of other people’s opinions.

What will they think of us?

What will they say about us?

Baker Mayfield is certainly living his life more out in public than most of us. By comparison, I’m a hermit living under a rock…even though I podcast and have some reasonably consistent social media presence. But compared to Baker, I’m alone in a forest just talking to myself.

You’ve heard it repeatedly — one of the biggest obstacles to finding success in anything is our ability to shut out the noise of critics. But it’s deeper than that – this whole quest of moving in silence! It starts with the noise in our head. Got nothing to do with critics, but it has everything to do with our anticipation of critics. Our fears that somebody will say something bad about us. Or think something bad about us. Or worse yet, somebody will openly criticize us.

Fears paralyze us. Or cripple us. Frozen in our tracks, thinking somebody somewhere will think poorly of us…we avoid moving. Fears, self-doubt and insecurities drive many of us to remain stuck in silence – instead of moving in silence!

Then there’s crowd influence – going along with the responses of the vocal crowd. It doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with the majority because it’s not often a quantifiable number. It’s the noise level. Think of it as humming your own song, but all around others are singing very loudly…a different song. You surrender your humming. Many do.

A Point Of Context: As I was crafting the notes for this episode I was thinking of all sorts of things that illustrate this. A person says they really enjoy a certain piece of music, only to be ridiculed because others think that music is lame (for example, is anybody courageous enough to admit being a fan of Nickelback, perhaps the most ridiculed band I can think of). It happens with books, movies, art and just about anything else.

I was also thinking of the people who don’t think one candidate or the other is ideal for the office of President of the United States. Or people who support the current President without approving of every single act or statement he makes. It’s hard to stand your ground on your opinions or beliefs when opposing viewpoints are so loud.

A person might support opposition to the current President, but be in the company of supporters. The crowd influences them to remain silent. 

It’s the punchline to the joke about the wide-mouthed frog who goes throughout the area where he lives inquiring about what the other animals are eating for breakfast. He speaks loudly, with his mouth opened wide as he speaks. He finds out the giraffe eats grass. The elephant eats plants. Then the crocodile answers that he eats wide-mouthed frogs for breakfast garnering a response from the wide-mouthed frog, (pursing his lips tightly together) “Oh, really.”

That’s how we can all behave when the crowd that surrounds us – however big or small – disagrees with us. “Oh, really.”

If that racquet is loud enough, long enough it may even be able to alter our viewpoint. We may surrender our taste, viewpoint, opinion or belief to go along with the others. Other people influence us whether we like to admit it or not. Birds of a feather may flock together, but sometimes we become more like the birds who surround us, too.

There are 2 action words in today’s title: moving & silence. Both require action and work on our part.

Moving.

Stationary is easy. Movement? Less so.

What popped to your mind when you first heard the phrase? Moving in silence.

During my bouts of insomnia, I often watch YouTube videos of people who live the RV lifestyle full-time. I’m not remotely tempted to live the way they do, but there’s something about it that I find quite fascinating. Mostly, I started subscribing to some of these channels a few years ago because I wondered why people opt for such a way of life. But I watch other shows like Hawaii Life, Home Town, House Hunters, and plenty of other shows that tell stories of people literally making moves to new places. Their stories are varied. But there’s something in every single story – people have engaged their imaginations to pursue something they don’t currently have. And in every single story is something else – experience.

I started listening carefully to people talk about, in fairly vivid detail, what life will be like in this new space. When you’re traversing Hawaii with the intention of moving there, it’s easy to let your imagination run amuck. Well, it’s easy to imagine living there even if you’re visiting with no intention of ever moving. That’s the power of the imagination.

You know why all these shows are so popular?

Because most of us don’t do what we see these other people doing. We don’t sell everything we have, buy an RV and hit the road full-time. We don’t move to Laurel, Mississippi (the location of Home Town) and renovate some old house. We don’t uproot from our current location and head to Hawaii permanently.

Vicariously, we’re able to imagine what it’d be like to do what we see others doing. All without leaving our home. Or our current situation. I’ll throw a few numbers to illustrate the point. About 1.2 to 1.6 million people would watch each new episode of Hawaii Life, a show about people finding places to buy so they can move to Hawaii. Each year about 12,500 new people move to Hawaii. That’s a bit over 1,000 people each month, a tiny fraction of people who watch the TV show. Not surprising though. Lots more of us enjoy watching and dreaming. Fewer of us enjoy making such a dramatic change.

Ask any professional trainer or people involved in professional development and they’ll likely confess that in spite of doing their best to give people actionable things to improve themselves…the majority of people in attendance won’t do one thing with what they learn. Most believe that fewer than 2% will leave the training and do one thing. Fewer still will make a meaningful long-term change. Seems like a big waste of time, huh?

You could think so and you’d be right.

But you could also embrace my point-of-view, as evidenced by my favorite story of that little boy throwing single starfish back into the ocean one at a time, even though there are thousands of them stranded on the beach. “It made a difference to that one.”

I don’t get fixated on scaling. I care more about individual impact. Good thing, too ’cause my critics enjoy pointing out how I don’t enjoy any widespread influence. They think they’re dissing me, but instead, they’re just validating my philosophy!

Moving signifies forward progress. Advancement. Improvement. Growth.

Silence indicates one component of that progress. Not loud. Not brash. Not calling attention to. But quietly. Without fanfare. Without spotlight.

NBC News released a poll that Americans are more unhappy than they’ve been in 50 years. It has prompted a firestorm of social media posts urging people to vote. Like that’s gonna help? The pandemic. Societal unrest. Bigotry. Prejudice. Crime. Politicians are the answer? Well, okay.

Moving in silence is contrasted with staying put, but doing it out loud.

Don’t mistake motion with movement. As I use the word, movement means doing something more profitable than moving around. I can stand still and jump and down. Other than getting some aerobic exercise I’m not going to be advancing. I can create lots of motion though. And I can holler at the top of my lungs while doing it. That’ll likely elevate my heart rate and help exercise my lungs. But I’m not sure it’ll do much else.

Do we really think somebody else’s movement will fix what ails us? Will their action make us happy? Happier? How?

What of our own movement? What actions are we going to take to advance ourselves?

Months ago – maybe even a year or so ago – I sat down and drew 3 circles representing the 3 big areas of my life as it relates to activity (not relationships). Relationships trump it all, but even in those relationships, there are serious actions required. Rhonda and I have been married for over 42 years. It didn’t just happen by accident or chance. We worked at it. We took actions that fostered our ability to stay together. Happily. But as I sat and drew these circles I was thinking of activities.

Spiritual was the first circle, followed by Personal, then finally Professional. They form a Venn diagram where they all intersect in one single area that I shaded in and called the “sweet spot.” That sweet spot represented the work I began a few years ago where I started focusing on our ability to help each other. I called it by the same name as my professional podcast, THE POWER OF OTHERS.

I’ve come to more fully understand how critical it is that we surround ourselves with people who can help us and people willing to let us help them.

Activities.

It reminds me of Herb Kelleher’s famous quote about the strategic planning of Southwest Airlines, the airline he helped co-found.

“We have a strategic plan. It’s called doing things.”

Doing things. That’s movement. Doing wise things. Doing the proper things. Doing the right things. That’s moving.

In silence is doing it without fanfare. Doing it quietly. Doing it intentionally by just blending in, falling into the woodwork, if you please.

Almost 2 years ago I got increasingly quiet in a few key areas of my life. Largely, spiritually. Not in avoiding teaching or preaching, which I have done in earnest during this pandemic, as evidenced by that work I call IN THY PATHS. But I began to embrace my most natural state of introversion – of being quiet much of the time. Letting life and others step to the forefront if they so chose.

Here’s the irony of it all. By simply speaking of it with you, I’m breaking silence. Technically. But our moving in silence surely needs to provide some learning – not just for us, but for others. Unless we communicate, there can be little teaching. So if you find this hypocritical of me, so be it. I can suffer that momentarily. Go ahead.

I started reflecting on my lifelong actions and approach. And decided it was time to more fully embrace that as I had much of my life. To not push against whatever power-mongering went on around me (and there’s always plenty to go around). But rather, to just do my work in anonymity and silence, as much as possible. The spiritual work has always been like that because one of my biggest strengths is safety. Providing people a safe space where they can pour out their problems, challenges, and difficulties knowing that I only want to help them through it.

I think back of people who have gone through some traumatic ordeals unknown to almost everybody. And I’m honored to be so trusted. I don’t betray that trust. Because I know we all need somebody with whom we can be completely safe. Safe enough to be as vulnerable as we need to be to get past something. Or through it.

Moving in that kind of silence is super easy for me.

Moving in silence when people are behaving poorly is much, much harder. I’m not talking about people who sit still while others hurt people, but I am talking about people who may be unable to sit still while others clamor for attention or power or popularly or authority. Sitting still during that is much less natural for me, but about 2 years ago I made up my mind it was – for me – the right way to go about it. I felt it was time for me to let that go. So I did.

Fast forward and enter Baker Mayfield’s comment and you may now better see why it resonated with me. I thought immediately, “Yes, that’s precisely what I’m trying to do.” I renewed my zeal for the work. Both the moving and the silence. In that order.

But something else is worth mentioning before I shut up today.

As I kept thinking of Baker’s comment and as I began leaning more heavily into being true to who I most am – I came to understand some other important truths. Two actually.

One, those things come easily – most naturally – for us tend to be things we grossly undervalue. Because they’re not difficult.

And two, we do that because culture has conditioned us to think everything worthwhile is hard. It must be difficult and if it’s not, then it’s not worthwhile. It’s not valuable unless it requires some hard grinding.

You know I’m no longer a young man. I’d love to fancy myself a fast learner, but the past couple of years have taught me – more than all the other years of my life combined – that these 2 things are true.

It’s possible for me to move in silence while continuing to podcast and share my insights and experiences. I can be more silent in some areas of my life while being a bit louder in others. I can do what I have always done – serve people in quiet, confidential ways where safety is key – while simultaneously choosing to share some other things in hopes they help somebody – like this podcast. Or any of my other podcasts.

What about you?

What will you decide is right for you?

Why will you make the choices you make?

Will you do it simply for yourself or will you do with others in mind, too?

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It’s May. And we’re still in this pandemic thing. Let’s talk it out. Some more.

Join the private Facebook group. There’ll be surprises in it for you! Click here.

Thanks,

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It’s a question. Not a statement.

Here in Texas, our “stay at home” order (issued by the governor) ends tomorrow, Thursday, April 30, 2020. Starting Friday, May 1st, stores can open up at 25% capacity. The exceptions are hair salons, bars and health clubs. If things continue to improve (some argue that they may not be improving), then the governor said he’ll modify his executive order to elevate the capacities to 50% on May 18th. By then, he may have a plan for bars, hair salons, and health clubs to reopen, too. As with many things, time will tell.

It’s the first sign and step toward emerging from this pandemic. Maybe.

Some are still quite anxious about it. Others are restless and ready to get back to the old normal.

Me? I’m pretty sure I’m not ready to enter some crowded space. Those who are cavalier, thinking this is much ado about nothing, will likely think I’m an idiot. And that’s fine. I can live with it. I’ve been called worse.

Today, let’s talk about music and other coping mechanisms of this pandemic.

Enjoy. Stay safe. And let’s see if we can’t figure out a way to create an even better normal than our past normal.

Here’s the social media post I refer to in today’s show. Laugh at will.

Randy

P.S. If you’d like to watch the video of this episode, plus tons of other fun stuff not available here at the website…join the private Facebook group. Just click here and answer a few quick questions.

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It’s been about 5 weeks since this whole stay-safe-at-home began. Today, it’s a rambling-mess documenting my effort of continuing to cope with Covid. You can judge how well or how poorly I’m holding up.

Early on, I know many of us, including me, thought this might be much ado about nothing. But there are real people behind the fatality numbers. Here’s just one example that happened more than 2 weeks ago…

I wish you all the best.

Love,

P.S. If you’d like to see a video of me recording today’s episode, then join the private Facebook group. Click here!