“I see you. You are a worthy challenge. Right now I do not believe I can face you. But I intend to become strong enough to eventually face you—and win.”

~ Steve Pavlina, “Fanatical About Growth“

I guess this might sound crazy.

Marty and I are still scrambling to figure out how to pay December’s bills once it arrives. We don’t have anything set in stone yet—we don’t have any kind of safety net. Two huge projects are pretty much over, pending announcement, and I have more hanging on. And one or two of them are massively important, and will continue to require my full attention for… awhile. Some lengthy period of time. And there are going to be more.

I’ve been working… eighteen hour days. Yes. I’ve been working eighteen hour days. I get up at 5am and then I get to bed around 8:30 or 9. I work pretty much the whole day, though I take breaks for food (sometimes) and occasionally we put in a movie (though I never get very far into it before I’m back at my computer checking on something).

But I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier.

I just feel… Fulfilled. Valid. Real. Vital. Satisfied, and at the same time, still hungry. Not particularly stressed, not worn out—although there were certainly moments in the last three and a half weeks when I was pushing it. Mostly, I just feel good.

I’ve been practicing Shiva Nata every day, but not for quite as long as I’d like. My practice sessions have been getting longer, though, and that makes me happy (and anxious to find out what it will be like when I can do even more). Marty’s been doing push ups. Lots of push ups. We’ve been eating almost all fruit & vegetables because we found out that, even organic, they’re cheaper than what we used to have on our grocery bill. Way cheaper. We’ve had a learning curve for keeping produce in the fridge and making it last long enough to eat (instead of be forgotten about, and then thrown away). But it’s a neat learning curve.

We go out to eat once in a blue moon. We’re functional hermits, and we haven’t seen most of our friends in weeks (at least). We’re working harder than we’ve ever worked in our lives. It’s not that we don’t love our friends and want to spend time with them. It’s just that this is important, and feels… significant. In a way I can’t describe. This is what we are supposed to be doing, right now.

I know it sounds like I’m a good candidate for the nuthouse, but this is the best my life has felt so far. And it feels like it’s going to get better.

Today Marty and I talked about money, and how it’s scary to be pushing this thing when a “sane” person would have given up two weeks ago. I said, Anyone else would have stopped trying already. But if we’re brave and keep going, even when it’s scary, we’ll make it. Just because people don’t try doesn’t mean the prize isn’t there. It just means fewer people get to it.

And somehow I have no doubt in my mind that we’ll get there. I don’t know when I became this person. I don’t know when I became clear about the future of me. I don’t know when I started having this much faith in myself, and in those around me, and in the universe that turns on my axis.

I don’t know when it happened, but my god, it feels great.

“I propose a toast to Lewis and his brilliant failure:
May it lead to success in the future!”

Marty and I watched Meet the Robinsons the other night. What a freaking fantastic movie! It was mostly just your usual vastly entertaining kids’ flick, but there are a couple of particular exceptions I would like to clearly note:

• “Keep moving forward!” This guy is not kidding. Coulda-shoulda-woulda is not worth your time except to learn from your past and move on. Sitting around and wasting time is useless to you. And by the way, when’s the last time you learned something new, really? Do you go through the same familiar routine every day? Do you stay in your comfort zone? (Note: Comfort zones are not always comfortable. They’re usually just comfortable enough...) When’s the last time you pushed yourself? Did something really, really hard? No, I mean really hard. When was the last time you looked inside yourself and discovered a previously-unknown inner strength of will? And if you can’t remember, when the hell are you going to start?

• “You failed! And it was awesome!! Exceptional! Outstanding! From failing you learn! From success… not so much.” If you’ve seen this movie, you know that the kid protagonist screws something up masterfully (for the second time in the last hour) and instead of groans and disappointment from those around him, he receives… PRAISE! It’s almost a party. Exclamations, applause, fireworks! (Yes, really—fireworks!) And I think my jaw dropped right into my raw zucchini lasagne, because I’ve never seen a movie do that. I’ve heard about failure, yes, and I’ve heard how important it is to push through. But celebrating failure? That’s… that’s… That’s MAGNIFICENT!

Celebrate! Failure! My god, how did we come to raise our children to dread defeat? It astonishes me. It should astonish you, too.

I think I should start a list. The ten most brilliantly passion-inspiring, growth-inducing, essential-lesson-teaching movies of all time. (Now I just have to find eight more. I already know what my second’s going to be…)

“Gosh… you’re all so nice. If I had a family, I… I’d want them to be just like you.”

I was walking down the stairs at my parents’ house in Youngstown when I realized something monumental—something that perhaps I never realized before:

There’s no need for me to base my standard of success on my parents.

There’s no need for me to use their criteria to judge whether I’ve done well. It’s only my standards that matter.

The only person who counts, in judging my success, is me.

My parents have always been incredibly insightful and supportive, but (like any other kid on the planet) I’ve often felt like they kind of… don’t get it. Even now, at 27 (and maybe more than ever), they sometimes respond in perplexing ways. They’re just different people. More and more, I seem to want them to understand what I’m doing, why it’s wonderful.

But… I guess they don’t need to.

My parents are a little like the soil I grew in. The soil doesn’t have to be like the fruit. The soil serves a different purpose. If my parents were the fruit, I couldn’t have grown in them in the first place!

So it’s incredibly good that they are who and what they are. They have given me amazing things to learn from and work with, even if I get frustrated when they’re not just like me.

It’s the lot of every child in the universe, to be different.

Our parents don’t have to be like us.

It’s enough that they grew us, and that we are awesome.

Okay. I get it.