My Thoughts

We’ll, it sounds cheesy.

I get that.

Zing. Every blue moon someone says something that sticks. It changes you. Maybe it’s positive. Maybe it’s negative.

Crud. Maybe it just creates more questions in your life.

Really? Every blue moon someone writes something, or they sing something, or they do something. Or maybe it’s those things they refuse to do that cause such a scurry. Either way, it affects the core of you.

And, there’s a lot of messages creeping around out there. There’s a lot of influencers. Yet, oddly, most of what you hear or see simply slides by us–we call it fluff, we deem it useless, and we discard it.

Can we all remember that we are who we are today based on the messages we’ve received and the judgements we’ve made on those messages? Can we all remember that change is the ultimate goal–that without progress (either classifying messages as valuable or invaluable) we simply become irrelevant to ourselves?

Keep the  eyes and ears open. Stay tuned. Soon I will present the most obscure work I have ever produced. Be warned that I’ve never had so much fun.

Everything counts. Messages are us.

Real change is continuous.

.

Content.

Outlines.

Movement.

I’ve been lucky enough to recently read a 500-page manuscript that changed the way I view life.

Late this year, a book will be published entitled The Wisdom of Generations. It’s written by a man named Tieman H. “Skipper” Dippel Jr. And although you may think his name alone is mouthful, just wait until the book is released—it’s a mouthful, a brain-ful, and an emotionally, intellectually, and ethically charged proposition that could, and should, change the world as we know it.

Put it this way. If you have a serious mind. This book will change you forever.

If you don’t have a serious mind, you’ll be interested in the fact that an average snail can sleep up to three years straight.

I’m a fanatic about stupid statistics and unquantified folklore—pop rocks can still explode your brain for all I’m concerned,

But, I’m also serious minded. Like you, there’s a part of me that sees the big picture. I want to do something. You want to do something.

And, although much of this “wanting to do something” may get wrangled into commercialism, marketing, and money-making endeavors, we all still need to stop and read 500-page documents from time to time. We need to listen. We need to think.

It is our reactions. It is our response. It is our proactivity that will change the world as we know it. Just like it was all of these things for generations before us.

View yourself as just a blip on world history for a second. Ask yourself: what did I do to contribute to the future?

Wisdom is not knowledge. Knowledge is the understanding. Wisdom is knowing what to do with that understanding.

Deep? Maybe. But, what can I do with the knowledge that snail can sleep for up to three years?

It’s where great adventures begin,

…where feared and fooled standby,

…what rocks and rivers still abide,

and faint of heart never realize.

But, at days end…

Just remember when…

tomorrow comes,

…great adventures begin.

Dress me silly with a cape and a mask and you’ll hear these fantastic sound effects as I battle The Evil Doctor Nemesis.

Super héroes always find themselves in the predicament of competing against someone of equal or greater strength—somehow they need to overcome evil by exercising their moral fiber.

But, what if they didn’t face other super powers?

Well, look what happened when Steve Jobs stepped back into the “control center” at Apple…a sluggish Microsoft had to “up” it’s game.

What if Boss Hog didn’t actually have to deal with those pesky Dukes of Hazzard?  What if Brooke didn’t have to battle Taylor on The Bold and the Beautiful (c’mon, you know you watch it). Metallica had Megadeath. Dave Letterman had Jay. Willie Nelson had the IRS. Chuck Norris had oodles of people that hold their gun within kicking range. And, as we draw nearer to political season, all the politicians are beginning to point fingers.

Is all this who-ha the game to figure out who’s right and who’s wrong? Hardly. Without our arch nemesis pecking at our place in line or our sanity, we’d all just slowly get sluggish.

The point is; unless you’ve got someone or something to overcome, you don’t challenge yourself to become the best you.

Whap!

Social media is an infant. Still, it already offers a window into people’s lives that I’m not sure we’re all prepared to digest—so many posts quite literally seem to create nausea with me.

Today, I learned that some of my “friends” were only 10 percent happy. Today, I learned that someone I know is quite disgusted by their own marriage. Today, I was informed (via photos) of some sort of vascular illness.

Yes, many people call certain social media sites “Brag Book”. And, I’ve heard another called “The Link between the unemployed and all the other unemployed.” Of course, all of these comments are just a borage of negativity from people who are typically anxious about joining the rest of the world.

Okay so maybe social media is very much like a daily “holiday letter.” We yammer about our proud points and spill our guts about our “not so proud” points. We promote the things we want to sell or be associated with, and we spew about the things that we don’t agree with (politics, people who irritate us, etc.) And, we share little pieces of our personality (as well as oodles of pictures of food that expose little pieces of our physiology).

I really don’t care how you feel about social media. And, you shouldn’t care either.

The fact of the matter is that it is here. It is huge. It is the next biggest thing beyond the creation of the internet itself. And, not being a part of it all says just as much about you as does dribbling out your woes, telling the world when you fall in love, or what you had for dinner, or funny things your kids say or cats do, or even telling the world when you go to the bathroom.

Many times we can view “status updates” as pointless wastes of time. Many times we can view them as “this information may have changed my life.” But, ultimately, I think a bigger question needs to be asked…are we becoming a reality show?

It’s not a bad thing…

We want the uncensored and highly entertaining glimpse into other people’s lives. Social media is the fly on the wall—we land for a second and are able to view and judge conversations, experiences, situations, perspectives, and the list could go on….

But what about context?

Except for the babies who get their own Facebook page on the day they’re born, do any of us really have the context of someone’s entire story?

1. Today I posted a link to an article I enjoyed. Does it have any relevance to the fact that I had my tonsils removed during a live, on-air, broadcast in my 20’s.

2. A few days ago, I posted a picture of my youngest child showing absolute glee at a festival/fundraiser. Does it reveal the 20 minutes before when I was scolding him and he stated, “This is the worst day ever?”

3. I write for a living. And, I post about a lot of books…hitting the world’s most prestigious bestseller lists. Has anyone asked how many times I failed?

4. I’ll post something ridiculous tomorrow. Maybe I’m just ridiculous. But, have you ever considered the fact that I attached a battery charger to my braces in the seventh grade and it may have knocked my sensibilities into absolute chaos?

Odd is okay, but it’s not all that unrealistic. If we all just viewed the world with the understanding that we may not (and probably don’t) see the context of most situations (on social media, and face to face) then we really have no right to pass judgement.

The sun bounced brilliantly off the water in the canal–seemingly kissing my face from top and bottom.  I felt good as my feet pounded the dusty gravel of the bank.

Stride after stride my mind drifted in my own personal abyss—rolling with thoughts as my buds pumped lyrics into my subconscious.

I was gone. I was unaware. I was running.

Have you ever found that place in life that you become so distracted and aloof that it seems nothing could grip your attention. That’s me when I run. But, this morning, something strange happened.

There I was consumed in some lyrics by Jimmy Eat World, when I was blind-sided by something freakish and unsettling. Out of nowhere, an object flung toward my face. My shoes skidded to a stop in the gravel. I ducked waiting for a smashing blow to the right side of my forehead.

…nothing was there.

As my eyes turned upward to see my “attacker” I realized how unaware and comfortable of my surroundings I had become (not to mention I realized my own ninja-like reaction time:)

There, fluttering above my head was humming bird. It floated in one position—much like a helicopter. It looked at me, and I looked back at it—it’s obscure form, cute birdlike face with freakish, insect-like, flight patterns and wingspan.

The hummingbird floated around me for a bit. I watched.

It’s all seems kinda silly now. Because I was taken by surprise, the small creature first seemed ugly to me. It was unpredictable and sporadic.  But, as I watched it longer, I realized the majesty of those things in life that may first frighten us because we don’t see them approach, and we do see them, they’re different than what we expect.

There’s beauty inside and outside of comfort zones. The point is; take the chance to discover them all.

It was an innocent question. However, it took me off guard.

“Mr. Nordstrom, is this your back-up plan?”

This question was asked while I was giving a presentation to a room full of second grade students as part of career day.

“My what?” I asked, shaken by the question.

“Is writing books your back-up plan?”

I’ll admit that when I ghost a book I typically dump my heart and soul into it. My job is to make someone else’s ideas more clear, more interesting, or more sellable. And, it’s bitter sweet to find yourself on the bestseller’s list and not be able to take any credit.

Nevertheless, the concept of a “back-up” plan never crossed my mind before an eight year old brought it to my attention. And, I’ve been spinning with the notion ever since.

“Is this a back-up plan? And, to what?”

“This is what I’ve wanted to do since I was your age,” I said to the girl. “I wanted to spend my days discovering new concepts, new stories, and new ways of looking at the world.”

Although it felt a little like I was defending myself, a teacher at the school stepped in and explained how so many of the students wanted to be professional athletes when they grew up…and how they need to establish a “back-up plan.”

I nodded. And, I agree with the teacher’s advice to second-grade students. However, I challenge the notion of allowing any adult an “escape” to a back-up plan.

What’s worse?

1) Failing to achieve financial success?

or…

2) Failing to realize your dream of success?

Yes, I’ll admit that I’ve had to take on “back-up plans” along the way…and still do. However, I challenge each and every one of you to stare into the eyes of an 8-year-old and tell them it’s okay to give up on their dreams.

I commend teachers of the Second Grade. And, I especially love the teacher today who explained to me “the back-up plan.” It’s common sense—a dose of reality that explores and inspires exploration.

But, on rare occasion, or just to test the waters of possibility, let us all accept a certainty in the way we perceive other’s dreams, goals, aspirations and plans—they are not dead until the day they give up on them.

It was Monday morning and just before school.

Lila awoke with her feet feeling cool.

But, her face was warm and her belly was queasy.

A hard day of learning would not make things easy.

She didn’t want to read—the thought made her woozy.

She didn’t want to ride the bus, and sit next to Suzy.

So, “To see Doctor Dilly,” a name not forgotten.

Mother said to Lila, “You must be feeling rotten.”

Doctor Dilly saw Lila, her face glowing red.

He looked and he listened, then he said, “Back to bed!”

“It could be a virus, an infection, or worse.

It could be the potion of an old witches curse.”

Then, Lila coughed and she sputtered. She quivered and gargled.

Doctor Dilly said, “Wait! I think you’ve been SNARGLED!”

“SNARGLED?” asked Lila. “Why what do you mean?”

“But, I eat my vegetables, and I keep myself clean!”

“Yes, I heard a SNARGLE,” Doctor Dilly nodded his head.

“You must go home now, and get back to bed!”

So they drove quickly home to find the bed that was closest.

It could not be a good thing to have a SNARGLE diagnosis.

“But, what is a SNARGLE?” Lila wondered in bed.

“Could I not have a cold, or a fever instead?”

She was stuck with a SNARGLE—must be a nasty disease.

“Is it like having measles, pox or the fleas?”

And so Lila slept to rid of the bug.

Her Mom washed the pillows, the sheets, and her rug.

And, hour after hour while Lila lie sleeping,

Somewhere from nowhere her dreams began creeping.

Does a SNARGLE have feet to rampage a stomping?

Or is it round like ball, to roll on a romping?

Or, does it have fangs or claws that could scratch her?

But, what if it’s slimy? That’d be a disaster!

And, what if the SNARGLE rattles and hisses?

Or, passes on germs through wet, sloppy kisses?

Lila didn’t want to be SNARGLED. She can’t, and she wouldn’t.

A girl like Lila can’t be sick and she shouldn’t!

“Away with your big beady eyes and your fur.

Away with your stink. I want to be cured!”

Then all through the night, Lila battled the beast.

And slowly but surely her fever decreased.

And when morning appeared, Lila was first to awaken.

Her fever was gone, and the SNARGLE was shaken.

“I want to go to school,” Lila said to her mother.

“I want to go now, and not miss another!”

Then Lila hopped on the bus and headed to town.

She even smiled at Suzy, there was no more frown.

And, just like that, the SNARGLE was forgotten.

Lila thought to herself, “Wow, I must’ve been feeling rotten.”

There is something unexplainable about art–a written word, a painting, a song or sculpture. Or, maybe it’s a building, or a process, or a program.

No need to assume that I’ve lost my noodle. The arts in this world are a symbol of beauty. And, I don’t mean they are the beautiful people, or the stark lines, or the seductive rhythm or melody, or contrast.

Art is not something we place on our walls, for it could be the wall. It is not something we seek, but it is something we find—that instance where awe overwhelms us.

Yes, I know artists. And, they are the photographers, the writers, the musicians, and painters.

But, I also know the artists of finance and real-estate and human resources and accounting. I know contractors, and mechanics, and the code developers. I know business people and financial investors, fitness instructors and doctors, who perform like artists.

I’m not saying that everyone is an artist. In fact, it’s my opinion that most people aren’t artists at all. However, when you see the artist, the innovator, and the passionate soul that somehow inspires an emotion—of wonder, awe, or inspiration—it’s time to take notice.

This may sound a tad bit more “fluffy” than my typical posts. But, I am inspired by those people—those artists—who exhibit a passion for their purpose.

You know who you are. And, you know what you are.

Okay so you might hear it in my inflection and accent. I’m originally from Minnesota.

However, sometime I worry that I’m losing my roots.

For example: The other day I was searching for a can of cream of mushroom soup.

A true Minnesotan wouldn’t have to search. They would have a pantry full.

I don’t even have a pantry.