New Live EVENT HERE
July Meditation HERE.
My knee-jerk reaction is that it seems pretty suspect.
Specifically, according to its website, there have been 1,153 official sightings of the Loch Ness Monster…and yet there’s not one decent photo.
I now hold a softer stance on the topic.
You see, this week, in order to promote this Thursday’s webinar Playing Your A-Game (Register HERE)––I attempted to take a photo of an equally spectacular phenomenon: Vlad jumping several feet in the air during fetch.
And for several mornings, I failed at every turn.
That is, until today:
The first sighting of Nessie was in the sixth century AD by Saint Columba, a visiting Irish monk.
Apparently, sightings have also been on the rise lately.
Given that everyone has an iPhone, you’d think someone would have gotten one clear snapshot by now.
And yet, closer to home, pretty much the entire Bushwick dog community has witnessed Vlad’s spectacular leaps.
And still I had no good photos of them.
Note: the big leaps don’t happen on every toss––many throws are low to the ground or not far enough away to build up speed.
Yet for a solid percentage of the time, Vlad will leap into the air in a dazzling display of full-body athleticism.
And yet, like Nessie, I’ve never been able to capture it on film.
Part of the challenge is that––even with my furthest throw––there are maybe only a few seconds between my tossing the ball and his catching it.
I start the video on my iPhone before the throw, but even then I still have to get him into frame.
This morning, however, when I told Miku the Weimaraner’s Mom what I was doing, she was instantly and totally on board, volunteering to toss the ball while I took the photos.
In fact, she was an ideal creative partner––more on that in a moment––but most importantly, I quickly realized I couldn’t get the shot without her.
Like many things in life, approaching the quest as a solo outing was nearly impossible.
Indeed, it’s a charming synchronicity that, totally on point for my topic, capturing Vlad’s A-Game moment––webinar link again HERE––was definitely a two-person job.
There’s a tremendous value in just checking in with people regularly.
Consistent with my theme, I see this as a form of accountability.
Essentially, rather than untethered sailing through life, it’s taking responsibility for being connected.
Nothing could be easier to execute––or let slip through the cracks.
That’s why I really love this poem by Danusha Laméris that illustrates this point so beautifully:
Small Kindnesses
I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk
down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs
to let you by. Or how strangers still say “bless you”
when someone sneezes, a leftover
from the Bubonic plague. “Don’t die,” we are saying.
And sometimes, when you spill lemons
from your grocery bag, someone else will help you
pick them up. Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other.
We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot,
and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile
at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress
to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder,
and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.
We have so little of each other, now. So far
from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.
What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these
fleeting temples we make together when we say, “Here,
have my seat,” “Go ahead — you first,” “I like your hat.”
This Thursday, I’m going to share my Top 3 Tips for Accountability in a relatively traditional 30-minute webinar format, but honestly, I’m interested in so much more than productivity hacks.
Since The Algorithm, which I think deserves Initial Caps given that this cyber-deity seems omniscient if not all-powerful, has witnessed me checking out various marketing programs, I’m bombarded with ads for more.
Indeed, I’m subjected to countless promotions for ways I can make millions online in just minutes, simply by following someone else’s easy and deceptively free formula.
It’s exhausting and frankly, a little soul-crushing.
I’d like to go a little deeper on what I’m sharing, and perhaps my quirky perspective might be more valuable than any time-saving hack I share.
Speaking of which…
Miku’s Mom’s other great contribution to our impromptu photo shoot this rainy morning was suggesting a shift in perspective.
(A true creative, she’s a designer at Ralph Lauren, FYI, so it makes a lot of sense.)
Naturally, initially we were near each other as we were tossing the balls and talking.
We managed to get one or two pretty good shots of Vlad leaping that way.
I probably would have realized it eventually, but Miku’s Mom quickly suggested that it would be much better if we separated ourselves across the field.
That way, I could get a better side view of the leap phenomenon.
Thus, Lesson One––some things are much more efficient as two-person jobs––was followed by Lesson Two:
Sometimes to achieve your vision,
you need to shift your perspective.
And most importantly, sometimes that perspective shift is best achieved by working with someone else.
According to the Loch Ness website, “the creature may be a prehistoric marine reptile, a swimming circus elephant (yes, really) or, most recently, a giant eel.”
It seems likely that as long as there are eager tourists, the mystery will remain.
I wonder if there will ever be a decent photograph of Nessie.
Solving that mystery doesn’t concern me in the least.
Instead, I’m focused on the definition of bringing one’s A-Game: performing at the highest level of one’s abilities, offering one’s best effort, skills, and focus to a task or situation.
As Vlad and my several 7am failed “photoshoots” demonstrated, until we found a spontaneous accountability partner to work with, the results were a blurry mess of Loch Ness-style pics.
I like the wordplay of A-Game and Accountability––that’s why I titled the webinar that way––and it underscores my key point:
That connecting with someone else is vital to truly be our best and shine most brightly.
So please attend on Thursday if this interests you HERE.
No matter what, though, create some interpersonal accountability in your own life.
As the poet Laméris writes, honor “these brief moments of exchange,” the ones where you text someone regularly to check in, or even just to tell them “I like your hat.”
Namaste for Now,
