In a previous post I wrote about a similar relationship between fear and creativity.  In the absence of one, there exists the other.  They’re opposites, antagonists, adversaries.

Now, I’m sure I’m breaking every philosophical rule in the book, but since I’m a writer and never claimed to be smart I’m going to take this relationship one step further.  If fear is the exact opposite of creativity AND love, the two must be related.  In fact, creativity is love.

Creativity means different things for different people.  It could be more obvious things like playing music, painting, inventing, dancing, or writing.  But for me, I define creativity as just a physical manifestation of a thought or idea.  It doesn’t have to be something hanging in a gallery.  It’s about thinking, and dreaming, and then doing.  And that act of doing brings something amazing to this world that didn’t exist before it.  Every single time.  And we’re all better because of it.

When you’re being creative something truly awesome happens.  You get inspired (or in-Spirit, as Dr. Wayne Dyer likes to say), you get enthusiastic, you tap into whatever it is that makes us uniquely who we are.  You lose track of the time, you tend to forget about the bills or what’s for dinner, and almost always you give birth to the beginnings of some really cool stuff that comes from — guess where — a place of love.

But there’s another part to this whole creating thing.  When you’re creative, you’re giving something to the rest of us.  Something artistic, or thoughtful, or inspiring.  It’s always a gift, no matter how small.  And giving, completely and wholly and unselfishly, is an act of love.  Ask any mother.  There’s no doubt in my mind.

Creativity is love, both of ourselves and of each other.  It’s the absence of fear, coming from the purest parts of ourselves, and then sharing it with the world.

Every day we face a crossroads.  Which direction do we chose?  Do we start that novel, or violin lesson, or act on that new business idea. . . or do we find some excuse why we can’t?  We always, always have a choice.

Choose love.

©2012 adrian varnam. All Rights Reserved.

Technorati Tags: arts, Creativity, Inspiration, Resistance, Self

Unfortunately, our shared past makes it tough sometimes to start conversations like this with each other.  Usually a question like this starts with both of our hackles raised and ends 10 minutes later with something broken; usually either my will or the dam holding back her tears.  (I exaggerate but only slightly).  But last night was different.  She was smiling and sweet and disarming.

Maybe it’s because she’s new to this blogging/website world too (more on that later) and was feeling a sense of empathy.  Maybe she was relaxed from the wine.  Or maybe she just didn’t want to argue with me (I don’t believe that one for a second).  But for whatever reason, her approach worked, and I didn’t feel defensive enough to argue.  Plus I was already running out of good excuses to answer her question.  I’ve already used alien abductions, the draft, and being deported several times by now.  I’m not even kidding.

“What are you scared of?,” she asked.

“I’m not scared of anything,” I said.  And I meant it, I really did.  And then. . . I really thought about it.

Why don’t we update our blogs like we should?  Why don’t we share our art, or music, or words?  Why don’t we stand up for what we believe at all times?  Why don’t we act on our crazy ideas, even if we truly believe that they’ll make a difference in people’s lives? . . .  What are we scared of?

We’re scared that someone will laugh at us. . . .  And we don’t. even. realize it.

The brilliant Seth Godin articulates this clearly in his newest book, Linchpin. We’re scared to put ourselves out there because it recalls our worst fears growing up.  Our biggest fear as children is now showing up in our creative lives as adults.  Only this time, it’s keeping us from doing what we need to do.  It’s really no more rational now than it was then, but this time, there are consequences.

Godin says that “The enemy of creativity is fear. . . .  [and] in the long run, the enemy of fear is creativity.  I’m sure of it.”

Creativity and fear make strange bedfellows.  One hogs the sheets while the other freezes.  One snores while the other wraps its head in pillows to silence the noise.  One might even be a bedwetter.

It’s time for one of them to go sleep on the couch.  The decision on which one does, is always our own.  Every.  Single.  Night.

Check out Sara’s new blog.  She’s an uproariously funny writer, a terrific artist, and one of the most brilliant minds that I know.  And by the way, any resemblance to me, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

©2012 adrian varnam. All Rights Reserved.

Technorati Tags: Creativity, Inspiration, Resistance

Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!”

From W.H. Murray’s The Scottish Himalayan Expedition (1951)

Do it now.

©2012 adrian varnam. All Rights Reserved.

Technorati Tags: Creativity, Inspiration

For two weeks now I’ve been sitting back and looking at my work, trying my hardest to figure out exactly what the hell I’m doing with all of this; the site, the writing, the music, the future.  I’ve bought in to the adage of, “if you fail to plan, you plan to fail.”  So I’ve waited.  I’ve waited for inspiration.  I’ve waited for discovery.  I’ve waited for epiphanies.  And you know, what?  It’s all bullshit.

Inspiration doesn’t come in the night like some mystical Santa Claus, dropping off presents of creativity if I’ve been a good boy.  Inspiration is a direct by-product of me sitting my ass down and picking up my guitar, or scheduling a time every day to write, or turning off Facebook.  Even if I’m not sure what I’m doing.  Inspiration as being the muse of creativity is a LIE.  It’s fabricated by Resistance to keep me from pushing myself forward one more inch and doing what I’m supposed to be doing with my life.  Inspiration is the curtain hiding the wizard, it’s the blindness that keeps us from realizing that the emperor has no clothes, it’s an excuse to keep us complacent.  Inspiration is the patron saint of comfort zones.

Don’t misunderstand me.  I love feeling inspired, and enthusiastic, and passionate.  But these feelings come from actually doing something, or being in the middle of it all, or watching someone else live their authentic selves and sharing in it.  Waiting for it or needing it to produce something, or to figure it all out, or to give us the answers is doing it all ass-backwards.

I’ve known this  for a long time now.  But yet, I still allow Resistance to use it as rationalization for not moving forward.  Despite everything I’ve learned, I still get sucker-punched, beaten down, and stomped on by Resistance before I even realize what hit me.  Like most days, I’m bloodied.  But today, I’m back on my feet before the ref counts to 10.  It’s my job to go the distance.  Like Rocky, simply going toe-to-toe and lasting the whole fight without giving up is a victory in itself.

I still don’t know exactly what the next step is in all of this; life, creativity, fulfilling my quest to help other creative people make sense of the world, etc.  I guess no one really does, because as soon as you figure it all out, life throws you a wrench.  But I do know that inspiration is a verb and not a noun.  And like the voice in Field of Dreams advises, I must “go the distance.”

I just won Round 2 Resistance.  Ding.  Let’s go.

©2012 adrian varnam. All Rights Reserved.

Technorati Tags: Inspiration, Resistance, Self

As Dan was running up against the break he told Ebersol that he needed to go; he had former NBA great Reggie Miller in the on-deck circle.  Ebersol asks, “Reggie Miller, the basketball player?”  Dan says “Yes.”  Ebersol says, “Do you know he’s one of only 2 or 3 athletes in the 30-odd years that I’ve been in Sports television, either at ABC or NBC, who wrote a thank-you letter?”

And so Ebersol shares the quick story of when after the 1994 USA Men’s basketball team (known as the Dream Team II) won the World Championship, his network gave each of the players a gift; a small portable Sony color television set.  He said it was something that he always made a point to do whenever athletes did something really special.

At the time it was probably a relatively unique, expensive, and pretty cool gift, but considering the giver and the receiver, it really wasn’t that big of a deal.  Ebersol was certainly a billionaire at this point (or at least close to it), and although the 1994 World Championship was early in Reggie’s career, he was a millionaire many times over by then too.  Understand, we’re not talking about cars or houses or trips to the Caribbean here.  It was a TV.  From the head of a TV network.  To a guy who could buy any TV he wanted.  It’d be like me buying you a beer and then you sending me a thank you note.  . . . Don’t worry, I won’t hold by breath.

So just to recap:  The head of NBC Sports recalls a moment, 16 YEARS EARLIER, that made such an impact on him that he makes it a point to bring up to a third party.  Just prompted by the mention of the other guy’s name.  A moment in the life of the head of a television network; a man that has thousands of “moments” in his life, every single day.  All because of a thank you letter, 16 years earlier.

I won’t draw any other conclusions from this story other than this: should Reggie Miller ever lose or leave his job as an NBA analyst for the network TNT, I guarantee you if his agent called NBC for an interview, he’d have an appointment set-up by the end of the next business day.  And it would have absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he’s good at his job (which he is).

Do you want to make a real difference in your own life, in your career, in your personal relationships?

Thank someone.

©2012 adrian varnam. All Rights Reserved.

Technorati Tags: Gratitude, Self

But most of the time it’s absolutely maddening.  It used to be once or twice a week.  The past year or so, it’s only been about once or twice a month.  But these past two weeks as I’ve prepared to launch this site it’s been almost every night.  Too much to do and I just can’t seem to get off the mental treadmill.  The result?  I sort of look and feel like Droopy the Dog at this point.

Usually I have to just stop when all this is going on in the middle of the night and talk to my brain like it’s a child.  “Brain, you know that I love you very much.  Your body and I are very proud of you and so thankful that we have you in our lives.  But if you don’t shut down the chatter and stop trying to figure out the point of Twitter we’re going to have to put you in timeout.  And believe me, it hurts us more than it hurts you.”

The body and I aren’t usually very successful and the brain wins out most nights.  The only technique that ever seems to work, however, is getting my brain, body, and spirit in alignment and focusing on my breathing.  It takes A LOT of work and concentration to do (and I’m not sure if it’s really that effective or I’m just exhausted and resigned at that point that my brain just gives in).  But regardless of the reason, after a lot of determination, and hours, and mental gymnastics, it works and I can go on with my life.  It’s always a battle, but it’s super important that I win out.  My very survival depends upon it.

Being creative, sharing your ideas, and taking chances are all similar fights.  In his incredible book, The War of Art, author Steven Pressfield talks about our battles in overcoming what he calls Resistance (with a capital R) and how we not only need to do the work that makes us happy and creative, we must do the work that makes us happy and creative.  It’s a moral imperative.

I’ll be talking a lot about Pressfield and his book on this blog, to be sure.  It’s one of the most important books I’ve ever read and I can easily say without hyperbole, it changed my life.  I hope you buy it and take it for a test drive yourself.

But in the meantime, know that anything worth doing that raises our value and worth up a notch is a battle.  When our brains want to spend all of their time laundry-listing, or recalling obscure song lyrics, or planning tomorrow night’s dinner, know that it’s just Resistance and it can be beaten.  Get your brain, body, and spirit in alignment and focus.  Dig deep.  Finish that song you started writing.  Sign up for that acting class you’ve been thinking about taking.  Put together the plan for the business you’ve been dreaming of starting.  Begin those children’s books you’ve always wanted to write.  Please.  It’s a moral imperative.

It takes A LOT of work, concentration, and determination to win the battle.  But it’s super important that you win out.  We need you.  Our very survival depends upon it.  And no, you cannot have dessert until you eat your peas.  So, turn around in your seat, stop hitting your sister, and do the work.  Or else.

©2012 adrian varnam. All Rights Reserved.

Technorati Tags: Self

Can you relate?  Have you ever felt overwhelmed and underachieved?  Do you ever look back and regret what you never finished, or tried, or shared?  What was it that held you back?  What kept you from giving the world your all and sharing your Art, your ideas, your gifts?

Or have you felt like John Mayer?  I know you’re thinking, “Please, Dear God, let me feel like John Mayer.”  Tough life, being a pop star.  But in “Stop This Train” he sings:

Stop this train
I want to get off and go home again
I can’t take the speed it’s moving in
I know I can’t but honestly won’t someone stop this train

For me, I never even got on the train most days.  And when I did, I felt that I just wanted to hide in the baggage compartment.  It’s easier that way.

But no matter if you’re looking out the window of a speeding railcar or cowering in the depot too scared to hop on, there is hope.  And it’s never, ever, too late to make a change.

The answer to all of our frustrations, disappointments, and unfulfilled dreams comes to us in the title of hardcore troubadour Steve Earle’s 2004 album, The Revolution Starts Now.  For one, it’s the recognition that making changes in our lives, in the giving of ourselves, and in sharing our Art and achieving our dreams is a revolution.  It’s not a light switch; it’s a process.  And it takes time.

But more importantly, it’s the understanding that it happens NOW.  Now is the time to make a change.  Today, not tomorrow, not next week.  Right now.  And as Lao Tzu said, “a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

So where does that leave me?  Well, I know that I can’t change the past.  I can’t erase those disappointments, can’t magically restore the faith that others have lost in me, and may not win back the trust and love of certain people.  But I can immediately change the present and future by starting now.  I’m taking best-selling author Brendan Burchard’s challenge and making 2010 a year of creation and productivity.  Hence, this blog, hence this vulnerability that I’m sharing with you, hence the products that will spring from this site, and hence the public declaration to the world that I will no longer live this way.

No longer am I going to be hiding, no longer will I care what others think, and no longer do I wish to live as someone who is waiting for tomorrow.  The world needs to hear from me.  And from you.

Join me.  Let’s give everything we’ve got this year.  Make your Art, share your ideas, accomplish your dreams, and let’s make a difference in the lives of others.  Today is the day we’re gonna make a change.  Today is the day the ass-kicking begins.  Today is the day we take back our lives from mediocrity and disappointment.  Today.  The revolution starts now. 

©2012 adrian varnam. All Rights Reserved.

Technorati Tags: Creativity, Inspiration, productivity, Self

A variation of this post was first published in

A respected and popular musician that I’ve known for years, Scott Miller, likes to shout out frequently to the crowd during his shows, “Are you with me?!”  The crowd always drunkenly responds with the affirmative as they raise their beers together.  It’s a goofy but amazingly effective way to engage the audience; giving everyone in the room a boost of self-confidence knowing that they are with him, and each other.  Together.

There’s power in brief encounters like those; where voices come together under one roof, celebrating a moment.  It’s the sharing of ideas and music and the oxygen in the room that gives it its strength.  It’s the sense of community that envelops it and sustains it and I think it’s absolutely vital to the creation and survival of art.  And it’s always been that way.

In 1974, America was at a crossroads.  We were in the middle of an economic recession, there was corruption in the White House, and we were fighting a war we couldn’t win.  But at a bar on the seedy and isolated Bowery in New York City, something remarkable was happening.  Musicians Richard Hell and Tom Verlaine began a weekly gig playing original rock ‘n’ roll with their band Television; an opportunity rarely found in the days of cover bands and big clubs.  Every Sunday night a large group of friends would gather at CBGB creating music and art, sharing in those moments together and supporting each other; even in the midst of alcohol, drugs, nihilism and corporate industry greed.  And within a few years, the whole world would know about it.

Over a decade before, teenagers in Liverpool were gathering blues recordings from the American sailors on the banks of the Mersey River.  All over the city, clubs, particularly the Cavern Club, helped foster a generation of rock bands giving the Liverpool scene its own sound, as characterized by the distinctive backbeat and vocal harmonies.  Before long and after a lengthy residency in Hamburg, one band would bring that creativity to America on February the 7^th, 1964, and change pop music forever.

And the same birth of creativity in rock ‘n’ roll can be found in San Francisco in the late ‘60s, Seattle in the late ‘80s, and Chapel Hill, Athens, and other college towns in the early ‘90s.  The same can be seen in filmmaking with the French New Wave or Hollywood, in literature with the Beat Generation in NYC and San Francisco, in Harlem with the Renaissance, with impressionism in the salons of Paris, and dozens upon dozens of other movements throughout history.  Art and community are symbiotic.  Always.  And the power and importance of place and space play a vital role in the birth and nurturing of artistic innovation, no matter which city it takes place.

I’ve lived off and on in Wilmington, North Carolina my whole life, active for most of that time in music, writing, education, and downtown culture.  I constantly hear gripes from all sides about what’s wrong with this town, what it lacks, what it needs, and the way it used to be.  I hear blame attached to the University, city council, the House of Blues, the cultural climate, the music industry, and any other tangible scapegoat that seems reasonable.  And yet nothing changes.  With each passing day, our creative and cultural community becomes more fractured, more territorial with few leaders and even less constructive and fresh ideas.  And yet, art and community continue to remain symbiotic, no matter what we do or don’t do.  The problems, just like the solutions, lie within ourselves.

But there is hope.  There will always be a cluster of creative people in our town (or yours) that produce good work, who run reputable businesses, who organize successful festivals, who understand the importance of communication and interaction and play nicely with others.  What we need to do to make a difference in their lives and ours is simple: we need to come together, vis-à-vis, and show ourselves, share ideas and passions, and communicate more effectively.

Every day I see it.  It’s why we worship together in churches, synagogues, or mosques.  It’s why we go to Farmers’ Markets or still buy things from stores instead of online.  It’s why we enjoy walks in the parks, dinners in restaurants, and smiles with strangers on the street.  We still long for those touches, for those kisses, for that physical energy that connects us all.  We still wait for those moments together where we can share in art, music, and creativity in the proximity of other people who like all of those things too.  And I believe that’ll never change.  That’s where art truly comes from.

Does that mean that Wilmington or any other town’s cultural community will never become more united, more supportive, or a more interesting place to live until we have a CBGB or Cavern Club of our own?  Not necessarily.  But what it does mean is that nothing will change until we all get on the same page.  And sometimes simply awareness is the beginning.  As John Lennon pleaded, so do I.  It’s time to “come together. . .  right now.”

This isn’t about supporting the arts.  It’s about supporting each other.

Are you with me?

©2012 adrian varnam. All Rights Reserved.

Technorati Tags: arts, Community