I’ve never been good at drawing. I have purchased proper drawing pencils and drawing pads, read tutorials online, borrowed books from the library. Every twenty pages or so in my Moleskine journal are doodles that I’ve attempted and scratched out. Eventually I decided the problem wasn’t me, it was the medium. I borrowed a Wacom tablet from work, opened up Illustrator and started with the pen tool.

That lasted no more than three minutes.

I am not sure what it is about drawing that I feel so drawn too, but ever since elementary school I have wished I had even a shred of talent for visual arts. My least favourite school activity was creating those stupid “Unit Title Pages.”¹ I am sure the highest mark I ever received for a title page was 5/10. It just wasn’t something I could do.

At the age of 13, I took up guitar. As I didn’t have money for lessons, I taught myself. With the help of some friends, I was competent enough to start my first band in grade 8. Through secondary school I studied music, starting with the clarinet and progressing through three different saxophones. I also picked up a little bit of drumming, piano and bass guitar. Even though no one in my immediate family was actively musical, all of these skills seemed to come almost naturally.

By the time I was in college, some friends from school and I began writing songs, touring around Ontario and recording CD’s. The need quickly arose for a website. After my experience self-teaching myself music I felt confident I could learn web design, even though my previous visual art excursions had been painful at best. I pirated my first copy of Photoshop 7 and ImageReady, fired up Microsoft FrontPage and tackled some old-fashioned table-based design.

So far, this new adventure has lasted 4 years.

This past year has been the first year I’ve been consistently active in graphic and web design. Prior to this my only work was for myself and my band. Now I am doing work for people all over the country and in different parts of the world. I am by no means an expert, but I continue to strive to get better every single day.

I do this because I have decided to take pride in my craft.

Just like when learning music, I approach design with a high level of respect. I admire and learn from those who have come before me, while dialoguing, sharing and gaining wisdom from those who are this journey with me now. When I begin a design I spend time researching the client. I try to understand the problem my design is hoping to solve. I pay attention to details and work tirelessly until I feel absolutely confident in what I have produced. If it doesn’t feel right, I am not afraid to discard. If I’m totally stuck, I will ask friends for advice. I will not stop until I can look at a design and be proud of what I’ve created.

I take pride in my craft.

There are many songs I have written that will never see the light of day. There begins to be nearly as many unfinished and discarded designs.

This past week a number of stories emerged through twitter about different designers and their work being copied or ripped off. Some of these stories have happened to particular designers on more than one occasion. Other stories are heaped in controversy over which side copied the other resulting in law suits, internet protests and questionable circumstantial evidence.

I am not interested in casting blame, but I think these stories teach us something. I believe that if we truly take pride in our craft, whether that craft is design, music, writing, knitting, etc., we are compelled to produce the absolute best and the most original work we can. If we are serious about becoming masters of our craft, we will continue to study. If we desire to be the best we can be at what we do, we will strive to do everything we can to work with passion and integrity.

Nothing should get in the way of an honest pursuit of our chosen craft. Not a pressing deadline, or a hounding client, or pressure from others.

If all you ever do is sing another person’s song, you’re not a rock star. You’re a karaoke singer.

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Tonight I had some extra work to do at the office, so after my workout I made a stop at the Subway shop close by. I usually stop by this particular Subway once every two weeks or so, normally during the day when the day staff is on. I’ve always been fairly impressed by the team at this shop, though I had never experienced the evening staff. I was in for a pleasant surprise.

As I entered, there was a young man behind the counter and 4 or 5 customers lined up. The evening Sandwich Artist was working by himself, and was just finishing up a sub. Not an abnormal situation for the dinnertime rush at a Subway, save for one small detail.

The guy behind the counter was covered in mayonnaise.

I don’t mean he had some mayonnaise on his hands. I mean his hands, arms, shirt and face were plastered in the stuff. From what I could tell, the incident had occurred just seconds before I walked in the door, as he was still holding the bottle.

Phased but not deterred, the man behind the counter continued to finish the sandwich he was working on and processed the payment. He then moved on to the friend of the first customer and finished her sandwich and payment process.

Then the next customer.

Then two more.

By the time he got to me, the last person in line, the man behind the counter had started and finished making 5 sandwiches. On a couple of occasions, he had to use paper towel in order to cook some of the meat toppings.

Mayonnaise was still plastered all over his face.

There were a couple of things that blew me away. First, the demeanour of the customers he served. Not one took notice of the fact that this employee, who is likely making just over minimum wage, was serving them in spite of having a face full of condiment.

Second, and most important, was the dedication that this employee displayed by working through an obviously uncomfortable situation.

As he finished with the customer before me and turned to take my order, I demanded that he take a couple of minutes to clean himself up. Not because I was disgusted by what was on him, but out of respect for a fellow human being. As he was wiping himself down with paper towel, I asked him his name.

“Dave.”

During the brief conversation we had as he put together my turkey breast on whole wheat, I learned that Dave had worked at the store for a while. I also learned that he had hopes for bigger and better things than being a Subway sandwich artist. What those hopes were I never learned, but during my visit I did discover one thing: this man is a Rockstar.

I told Dave as he was finishing my order that I was blown away by his dedication. I also told Dave that if I were an employer, I would hire him on the spot, regardless of what business or industry I was in. Skills can be taught, talents acquired. The dedication and drive that Dave showed making sandwiches with a face smeared in mayonnaise takes a lifetime to develop.

I know times are tough right now. Not a lot of places are hiring, and even fewer are looking for someone whose experience is making sandwiches. However, if you are someone who runs a company, manages human resources, or simply wants to see your company do well, be on the look out for guys like Dave. It’s guys and girls like him who will, without a doubt, take your company to the next level.

I will be going into Subway tomorrow to speak with the manager. I want to give a commendation for Dave’s incredible work ethic. I am going to suggest a raise, though I suspect the request won’t be granted. I just want that manager to know that Dave is doing his company an incredible service.

Dave is not a sandwich artist. He is a Customer Service Rockstar.

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I have an addiction. It’s been a part of my life since I was in Bible College. For a long time it’s been a big part of my identity. I’ve aligned my value to it. I’ve handed part of my heart to it.

The worst addictions are the ones that are accepted by society. An addiction is, in my opinion, harder to break if no one is telling you what you have is actually an addiction. The first step is recognize to the problem, right?

A month or so ago, Carlos Whittaker, a blogger from Atlanta, GA took what he called a “blogatical.” He stepped away from all things blogging, including Twitter. His reasoning was that he had allowed his identity to be wrapped up in his online persona. He was finding his value in what those who read and responded to his blog had to say.

Carlos’ example inspired me to recognize my own addiction. I can’t say I’m anywhere near as popular as Carlos, or any number of bloggers. However, for the past few years a great deal of my identity has been found in my web stats.

I know it sounds strange, especially to someone reading this who may not currently publish a blog or participate in twitter or other social media sites. I’m embarrassed to even say it, but know that I need to recognize the problem before it gets worse.

For the last two weeks, I have abstained from checking my Google Analytics and Feedburner numbers. I had developed the habit of checking both every single day, even more when I wrote a big article I thought would generate new traffic. I can’t say it has been easy, but I am proud to say that I have now successfully made it 14 days without looking. I decided to make this part of participating in Lent, as corny as that may seem. However, to me this really is a spiritual issue as well as a psychological issue.

I will say, this has not been made any easier by the release of a new iPhone app called Ego created by Garrett Murray. Ego gives publishers a one-stop look at web statistics from Feedburner, Mint, and Twitter. The worst part is that the app looks so good, I almost want to buy it and not sync it with my web services…

Alas, I know the best thing for now is to abstain. I honestly want to reach a point where these numbers don’t mean as much as they do now. I guess time and discipline are the only things I can lean on at the moment.

Well, an encouraging word or two wouldn’t hurt either.

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There are few things in my life that I can honestly say I love. I love my girlfriend. I love my family. I love music.

I also love Starbucks.

Obviously, my love for Starbucks isn’t based on the deep respect and confidence I have in my family, or in the passion and desire and admiration I have for my girlfriend. Yet I can honestly say that I love Starbucks. I like their drinks. I enjoy the atmosphere. I appreciate the generally excellent service. Put these things together and you get an incredible culture, and it is that culture, that “third place” that I love.

There’s been discussion over the past few years about Starbucks losing its identity. They tried to become a music hub, and then a convenient quick-stop with drive-thrus. Sadly, Starbucks corporately lost its “Third Place” identity.

There is one London Starbucks location, however, that seems to have bucked this trend. In fact, this Starbucks feels more like a 3rd place than any Starbucks I’ve been to. There are a number of initiatives this location has undertaken that set it apart from its corporate family.

The first difference is a bookshelf. In Canada many Starbucks are tied into a Chapters bookstore, but they are divided with signs that read “no unpurchased books beyond this point.” I understand the thinking, but it unfortunately detracts from the overall experience. The Starbucks I like most isn’t attached to a bookstore, but has a small bookshelf next to several comfortable chairs. There are books and international newspapers available free of charge, to be used by anyone. This simple addition speaks volumes about the ethos of the location. This location wants you to linger.

The next difference is its involvement with the community. Unlike any other Starbucks I know of in London, every Saturday night this location hosts an acoustic music night. The weekly event is free and provides a unique venue for artists and listeners to enjoy great music in a clean, well lit atmosphere rather than the dodgy bars downtown.

Finally, this location breaks the rules¹. Last year Starbucks introduced free Wifi access for 2 hours if you had a registered Starbucks card. While it was a big step up from charging almost $10 an hour, it was a long way from what many other coffee shops offer. Last night I went out to coffee with a friend, and we were sharing music and designs online. As we were sharing, my friend’s card ran out of internet time. However, he had a second card with him; not a card he had purchased, but a recycled card from the Starbucks counter. The location had almost 20 recycled cards stashed away. While completely against the corporate policy, this location was doing something for their customers; this location was allowing their customers to fully experience the “third place” totally unhindered and uninterrupted.

This location is unique. It bucks the trend of its corporate parent. In fact, it has stayed truer to the brand of the corporation than the executives that run it. It has held true to the ethos of being a third place. A place of comfort, of community, and of sharing.

I believe this could be the future of corporate brands. Corporations provide the financial backing, the product and the core mission and values, and local locations are free to be reflective of their respective communities. They are allowed to break the rules for those they serve. They are allowed to invite outsiders in to provide a musical or artistic backdrop. And they are allowed to have their own unique identity in a sea of cookie-cutter brands.

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As children, many of us are taught some similar, basic abilities. We learn to walk, talk, read, engage in conversation and many other skills that are of utmost importance as we grow into adulthood. One of the many skills many of us learn is the ability to tie our shoes. Some of us learn the bunny ears, others learn a variety of other techniques. The end goal, of course, is to learn to secure our shoes to our feet in order to provide comfort and support when we are walking and running.

As I was growing up, I developed a love for walking in bare feet. I would walk anywhere on anything; gravel driveways, hot cement, hot sandy beaches, cold wet grass. As winter would come to and end and spring arrived, I couldn’t wait for the snow to melt solely so I could take off the extra weight of my shoes and enjoy the weightless feeling of my feet touching the ground. It may seem overstated, but some days I truly felt more alive when I could feel earth between my toes.

I don’t like the feeling of being constricted. Maybe that is part of the reason why I didn’t like shoes. In shoes, I felt like something was hindering my life experience. As I got older, I started wearing my shoes with my laces tied loosely, partly so I could remove them quickly, but primarily because I didn’t like the feeling of having them tied tight. I felt like my feet couldn’t breathe.

When I started working out just over a year ago, I started out with my $30 WalMart shoes, tied loosely. I didn’t give much thought to my feet as I started working on the cardio equipment. As I started getting more into working out, my trainer suggested that running would be a great activity to get into, as it provides a great cardio workout and helps with weight loss. A piece of advice he gave me was to purchase a good pair of shoes. He said I could go to a running store, and the employees there could analyse how I walk. Then they could advise me on the perfect shoe for my feet.

I went to the shoe store and ended up getting a great deal on a pair of really nice New Balance shoes. I’d never spent so much on a pair of shoes in my life, yet for some reason I had this sense that I wouldn’t be disappointed. They felt and looked great. As I got back to the gym the next day and hit the treadmill I instantly realized this was the best decision I’d made regarding my training. Running almost instantly became a pleasure1. I worked my way up to running almost 5 km by the end of the summer. It was a fantastic feeling.

The only downside to running was that I would feel pain in my legs about 20 minutes into a run. My shins and hamstrings would tense up, and it took everything I had to push through. Something didn’t seem right with this, however I simply chalked it up to me being a rookie runner. I figured that after a period of time, the pain would eventually go away with more and more training.

As winter approached last year, I began to let my running slip. I didn’t get back into it until a month ago, and not until this week had I attempted any real distance. Yesterday I ran and felt the same pain in my legs as I had before, and after 30 minutes had to stop. I only ran 3.5 km.

Today, as I was getting ready to run, I changed something. Ever since I had started running, I hadn’t been tightening my shoes very much. The way I saw it, the more air that was passing from the opening to my toes, the better my feet would feel. However, today I tried tightening my shoes. I laced them up just like I would a hockey skate, starting at the toe and making sure the shoe felt snug up and down the laces.

I ran 5 km today.

My legs felt incredible.

It was an amazing feeling. It was like my legs were saying “Thank you! Thank you for finally supporting us!” I realized as I was running that all the times before, my legs had been struggling with keeping my shoes on my feet (not that they were ready to fall off, but simply that they were loose and flopping left and right). This time, my shoes were snug on my feet, and the entire time my legs felt incredible. If it weren’t for my stomach starting to hurt, I probably could have run another kilometre or so.

It reminded me of my struggle with discipline. In the fall, I had begun reading my bible every day, reading through Proverbs every day and journalling. It was part of my morning routine. However, after 2 months I stopped. I didn’t feel like it was doing anything. I realize now, however, that it was doing a lot. It was supporting me, providing a snug feeling for my heart to make it through the day. I felt encouraged every morning, to love my girlfriend more, to work hard at work, to be kind to my parents.

Discipline acted like my shoes did while I was running. Even though I hate shoes, I realize if I were to try to run without them, my legs would be destroyed after just a couple kilometres. If I try to live my life without discipline, I’m letting time and my situations control my emotions, my state of mind, and my faith.

I know not everyone reading this will find support in reading the Bible. I just want to encourage you to find something you can be disciplined in doing, and let that discipline support your heart and soul. Maybe it’s a prayer, maybe it’s attending a religious service on a regular basis, maybe it’s journalling your thoughts and feelings and experiences, maybe it’s simply sitting in silence for a few minutes every day. Find something that is outside of your comfort zone that is good for you, and stick to doing it for 2 weeks. After two weeks, if your soul doesn’t feel supported, find something else that you feel supports you.

Discipline has a way of making me take greater care of the other things in my life. I love better, listen better, encourage better. I encourage you to utilize discipline to make you better, so that you can be better to the ones you love.

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This past Saturday morning I woke up with a lot to do on my to-do list. I had to renew my license plates and license. I had to drive back to London to pick up my girlfriend and get some nice clothes on, and then go to the Dearness Home for Sara’s grandmother’s birthday.

And then Sara asked for her puffer…

Sara had spent the night on Thursday night, and because of my family cat brings a puffer to help with her allergies. Whenever Sara asks for her puffer, I take it pretty seriously because of an episode two Christmases ago where we ended up at the hospital.

We drove back to Dorchester to pick up her puffer. I left the car running as we went inside, as I knew we were in a rush to get back to London. I stepped through the front door, and knew something was wrong…

There were 20 people at my house.

People from as far away as Orillia.

20 of my friends.

Surprising me for my birthday.

I was totally shocked. It took me a minute to get my bearings, at which point I realized that everything leading up to this moment had been planned just right for this very moment.

Sara had planned a surprise birthday party.

It was an incredible time. I saw friends from Barrie, Orillia, Kitchener (where I went to school) and London. It was a real blast hanging out with everyone and simply sharing in an amazing moment.

On Saturday I realized how amazing blessed I am. I have some incredible friends whose lives have intersected mine at various points in my life, and I am so grateful for every one of them.

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Having spent the past 8 years in the church and 5 of those in some level of leadership, one thing that has been surprisingly absent from my life is a mentor. I’ve had people who I’ve looked up to, and people who have built into my life at different points along the way. However I can’t name someone who I could say has deeply invested into my life and been a long-lasting mentor to me (my parents excluded, of course. They are incredible mentors).

In the past I’ve done a little bit of reading on mentoring. At some point I read that a mentor should seek out someone to mentor, rather than a mentoree seeking out a mentor. I’m not sure if this is right or wrong, but then again, I haven’t really had anyone to ask.

Looking back on my life, I realize how much I have missed having someone invest in my life. It makes me wonder if when people look at me, they don’t see enough potential to be worth mentoring.

What made me think of all of this was working out at the gym today.

When I first started getting healthy, my first health mentor was my girlfriend, who guided me with my nutrition. She continues to be an incredible support when it comes to making healthy dietary choices.

Shortly after, I signed up for a personal trainer. Under my trainer’s guidance, I was able to lose a lot of weight in a considerably short period of time. He led me through a lot of exercises I wouldn’t have known to do on my own. Unfortunately, I only remember a small number of the exercises I utilized during that time, so now I’m almost back to where I started with very limited knowledge.

Today as I was working out, I really wished I had someone guiding me, encouraging me, telling me to go for that last rep or to hold on to that core stretch just a little longer.

It made me also wish I had the same in other aspects of my life.

My dad has been an incredible help with my finances, and has taught me how to really budget my money. Unlike my personal trainer, he has taught me some great guiding principles that I can use even when he’s not there. I’m still learning, but I’ve made a lot of progress in the past 6 months.

In terms of my spirituality, I have really looked up to a few people. However, along the way either through life circumstance or my own mistakes, these relationships are no longer what they were. In my 8 years as a Christian, I haven’t yet found a solid, stable mentor. Or, more accurately, maybe I don’t have the potential to be a mentoree.

If you’re a leader, are you mentoring anyone right now? If so, know that the investment you are putting into that person’s life will continue to multiply for many years.

If you’re a leader and you aren’t mentoring someone, take a serious look at some of the younger people in your life. Guaranteed there is someone who could benefit greatly from your guidance and friendship.

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I’ve been spending some time over the last few weeks contemplating which path my life is taking, and whether I am on the right one or if I need to make some changes. One of the biggest decisions I am thinking through right now is the decision to apply to university.

At the moment, all of my consumer debt and taxes are paid off. I owe money to my dad that I am paying off now. I don’t have much money saved, though I am trying desperately to work on that. However, I look at this idea of going to school and as bad as I want it, I have all these doubts about whether I can even do it.

In the past I’ve been very good at taking big risks. I went to Bible College when I was 18. I quit a full-time job to join a rock band. I left my home to go work at a church up north. Unfortunately, each of these risks has left me in huge amounts of debt, with nothing to show for it at the end. So, now at 23 looking at the possibility of going to school, I’m scared.

Scared.

I never get scared.

I can stand up in front of thousands of people and sing and play my guitar without thinking twice.

But I think about this idea of school, and I really feel scared. I’m afraid of taking this chance and screwing it all up like I have done in the past. The stakes now are just way too high. On the other hand, I don’t want to be doing what I’m doing now for the rest of my life. I don’t love it. I hardly like it. It’s scarier to think about staying where I am.

I don’t know what I want to go to school for, so I think I will just take a year of general studies until I can decide on a major. I don’t even know what I want to be when I’m finished it all. I just know that I want to go, really badly. I want to be challenged, to challenge my brain again. I miss the intellectual pursuit.

So, I want to go. I’m just scared. I feel like a kid who’s on skates for the first time walking towards the hockey rink. I can see tons of other people really enjoying it, and I know that once I take my first few steps I’ll do amazing… it’s just hard to convince myself to step out on the ice.

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I posted a tweet about a new website that went live yesterday called “Off The Blogs.” In it, I mentioned that “stuff like this” bothered me. After mulling over it all day and night, I feel that tweet deserves an explanation.

I have been blogging in some form or another for almost 5 years now. I have struggled a lot with maintaining consistency with my writing, as well as striving for some level of “success” with it all. Through it all, I have found that I am the best at this when I am being honest and transparent.

For the past few years, I have struggled to try and find my own identity. It is frustrating, because having grown up in an incredibly secure and loving family, I feel like I should have this all figured out by now. Yet two weeks away from my twenty-fourth birthday, I feel no closer to an understanding of who I am than when I first asked the question.

My tendency when struggling with this question is to look to others to find my identity. One person I look up to, though it is from a distance, is a man named Carlos Whitaker. Carlos is a creative pastor in Atlanta, GA who is also a very influential blogger. His transparency on his blog has inspired me tremendously, as has his creativity.

My biggest struggle when looking at people like Carlos is the desire to be just like that person. I want their success, their popularity, their joy. Through it all, I slowly chip away at the peace and joy that I have on my own, and it leaves me feeling bitter and jealous.

All of this brings me to yesterday’s tweet. Carlos, along with Anne Jackson and Jon Acuff — two more influential bloggers — announced that they are holding an event in Atlanta focused on bringing their collective blog communities together for a night of worship. As I was reading about the event, I got jealous. Rather than just ignore the feeling, I posted a tweet that was both mean spirited and inappropriate.

I’m sure most people just passed over the comment, but it has been eating at me all day. I wanted to make a public apology to Carlos, Anne, and Jon. I have emailed Carlos a personal message.

I’m still learning how to manage jealousy. I still feel that feeling of being disqualified that I posted about a number of months ago, and felt it stronger on Sunday as I attended my old church. I have a lot of growing up to do, and I thank you for your patience.

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This week I made and followed through on one of the toughest decisions I’ve made in a while. I’m actually very proud of the decision I made, even though it wasn’t fun to make it.

Those who know me know I have a passion for being creative. I am constantly thinking, dreaming, envisioning ideas. Last year, I worked at a church where my job was to make a creative team’s ideas become reality. It was an awesome experience, and one that I hope to have again.

That chance came up this month.

Over the past few months, I have been attending two churches. Connections Community Church is a theatre church in the North end of London, and is very similar to the church I worked at last year (even the name!). Presence is a small, “emergent” community that meets at the London Arts Centre in downtown London. I’ve been going back and forth about which church I would finally plant myself in and become involved with.

Over the course of some discussions, the possibility of taking some leadership at Connections came up. I was very, very interested in the idea, as it fit perfectly with what I would love to do for a living (it was a volunteer position). With my experience in service program design, I would help Connections move forward with its service flow and creative elements. The opportunity is everything I am looking for. On Monday, I emailed George, the pastor, and turned the opportunity down. I made the decision to attend Presence instead of Connections.

It was an incredibly hard decision to make. Connections is an awesome, young, vibrant church with a huge potential to make a great impact on this city. George is an amazing leader who I would benefit from serving under, and the opportunity, as I said, was perfect for me. However, right now the timing just isn’t right.

I feel like I’m just starting to get back on my feet with my relationship with God. I know that if I jump into a leadership role such as this one, it will hurt more than help that relationship. It’s fragile right now. It just can’t take the pressure.

For the foreseeable future, I will be attending Presence on Sunday mornings. James is a fantastic teacher whose thoughts have stretched my mind and have met me where I’m at spiritually right now. I’ve offered to help out with music, but don’t want to take over the whole thing. I just want to absorb for right now. Sometimes you need to be still to let your roots grow.

So, that’s where I am at. I still hope for the absolute best for George and the people at Connections. I plan to visit occasionally, and maybe one day in the future I will end up there. I just don’t want to risk their success or my spiritual walk on my fragility right now.

Some things are just worth waiting for.

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