The Art of Letting Life Be Good

“How’s everything going with you?”

Without hesitation I began,

Life is good, but still…”

“I mean, I really do like my life right now but…”

I paused, searching for something to gripe about…because that’s what I always do. How unnecessary, though? Truly, life was good. My rent was paid, my health was great…I had the privilege of making up problems on a Thursday afternoon over an iced coffee. So why did I feel the need to temper my good vibes with a soggy “but”?

I was reminded of three things:

  1. Similar to my sense of self-deprecating humor and sarcasm, I use light-hearted negativity to cut myself down before someone else or something else does.

  2. Many times I feel guilty for enjoying parts of my life to the fullest because I haven’t worked or don’t feel like I’m working “hard enough.”

  3. I’m simply accustomed to feeling a way about certain things. The stories I tell myself about always being behind or always making mistakes are stories that I know like the back of my hand. As twisted as it sounds, they make me feel assured, correct, and comfortable. Plus, I’ve invested so much time and energy into these stories that they’ve become a part of my self-image. It makes sense that I’d want to inject them into any conversation that makes a departure from that familiar “life sucks” narrative.

But in the long run, none of this stuff is useful.

So now I’ve made it a point to recognize that I can enjoy my life when I’m feeling it and express gratitude without any other negative statements to balance the scales. After all, the better I feel about right now, the more open I am to receiving good things in the future.

“Life is good. Period.”

That’s not the way I usually end a sentence, but I’m getting used to it.

How I'm Cracking The Code On Healthy Habits

I was catching up with a friend yesterday, reflecting on the first three months of 2019 and how drastically different they’ve become from the months prior. In many ways, I’m a completely different person.

In the fall I used a lot of alcohol, fleeting relationships, food delivery apps, Amazon Prime and Netflix to cover up my anxiety about the future. I spent money to surround myself with nice things, because subconsciously, nice things made me feel like a nicer person.

Now at the turn of spring, I’m the guy who’s more interested in staying home, cooking meals for friends, finding affordable ways to exercise, and dealing with uncomfortable thoughts head-on instead of running away from them.

Maybe it’s just me getting older, but I keep asking the question - how have I been able to keep up this new mindset for so long? In my head there are endless instant replays of my previous attempts piled up like VHS tapes, and from the archives I’ve noticed three things that have made this go-around truly different:

  1. I’m focusing on one change at a time, one day at a time, one thought at a time. Any other lofty ideals I’ve been trying to live up to are out the window. For example, after two months of working out 4-5 times per week, the backseat and trunk of my car have been nightmarish. Between multiple sets of clothes and towels and yoga mats and boxing gloves, I just haven’t kept it organized. It’s out of character for a pseudo clean freak like me.

    Instead of beating myself up about the dirty car, I realized that it’s just the tradeoff for making health my real priority now. It’s natural once you start shifting your routine for things to get knocked out of place. Being okay with that allows me just enough self-respect to keep it going.

  2. I’m making it about the practice, not the result. If I was working out solely to get ready for the beach or to get into “artist shape” as I’ve coined it in the past, I’d easily become frustrated if I didn’t see results in the mirror fast enough. Then I’d give up out of that frustration, prematurely forfeiting all the other benefits.

    This time around, there’s only one criteria for success - consistently doing a thing (i.e. exercise) day in and day out. We tend to overestimate how much we can accomplish in a day and underestimate how much we can accomplish in a year. I’ve found it much more enjoyable and sustainable for me to wipe out my expectation for quick results and external validations. I celebrate the practice of being and doing instead.

  3. I am my own and my best accountability partner. When I’m not in the mood to do a thing like go to the gym I’ve been an expert at talking myself out of it - negotiating the pros and cons, convincing myself that it’s too late, too expensive, or that I’m too tired. I’ll literally debate myself for so long until time has really run out and I’ve succeeded in putting off another healthy habit.

    But finally I’ve learned how to outsmart that voice in my head. As soon as I get a sense of that naysaying voice, I stop listening and start moving as quickly as possible. “We can have this conversation in my head on the way there in the car instead of on the couch, yeah?” It’s not the easiest thing to put that voice on mute while I’m lacing up my shoes - but when I do, the job gets done every time.

Life feels a little more aligned now, even if on the outside my surroundings haven’t changed. These little mind hacks have been the key - and I can’t wait to see how they hold up over the next 90 days.

Sober Thoughts 2: How Three Months Alcohol-Free Is Changing Me

A few months back I shared some reflections on my Sober January journey. I wasn’t sure whether I’d continue my streak of not drinking but somewhere between “time flies” and “why not?” I ended up here in April, still sober.

And with that, here are 30 more thoughts after 90 days without a drink:

  1. I realized at the 2-month mark that it has become almost easier for me to pass on a drink now than to take one.

  2. Mindset has been the key - seeing my sober-life as one of privilege and not deprivation.

  3. I have the privilege of not giving in to what was once a slippery slope of escapism and avoidance.

  4. I have the privilege of self-control without self-judgment or guilt.

  5. I also have the privilege of knowing that I can choose to have a drink whenever I want - I just choose not to for now.

  6. I’m not deprived. I’m empowered. I’m lucky.

  7. Fitness has happened. It’s not necessarily any easier to get to the gym - there’s just one less roadblock I have to deal with.

  8. I get restless. And without alcohol to numb me, I’ve found that working out and fumbling around in the kitchen are the healthiest ways to keep busy.

  9. I’ve replaced empty beverage calories with nutrient-dense vegetables and almond butter toast and protein shakes.

  10. I’ve figured out how to prepare these whole foods in a way that makes me crave them more than the half-empty bottle of mezcal that’s still sitting in the back of my freezer.

  11. My body thanks me.

  12. I thank my body.

  13. We both do well when we listen to each other.

  14. My sleep is deeper and more satisfying.

  15. I’m feeling more present in my relationships.

  16. There are still a few times and places where I really crave an ice cold beer, and with that I’ve discovered something else that’s entertaining:

  17. O’doul’s non-alcoholic beer is still a thing. I found out last weekend at Pappy & Harriet’s in Joshua Tree, CA when the high desert sun and dive bar vibes were calling for a beer but not the brain fog.

  18. Cheers’ing with an O’doul’s - the same brand my dad used to order out at dinner and I never understood why - is now one of my fondest ironic memories.

  19. Bitters and soda, however, is still the best free drink I can get at a bar.

  20. I still find myself unknowingly making apologies for not taking a drink - like last week when a new colleague offered me a beer at the studio and I came through on the defense.

  21. “I used to be really into beer, I usually drink it, I’m just not drinking it right now,” I said.

  22. “Bro, it’s cool I get it,” he said with a laugh, sensing my nerves.

  23. An interaction like this is a friendly reminder that I still have insecurities left over from high school.

  24. There are a lot of people happy to see the changes I’ve made and who encourage me no matter what.

  25. I make it a point to focus on those people and forget the rest.

  26. Life is not perfect and this is just one of many processes I’m going through.

  27. I try not to attach my ego or identity to alcohol or my choices around it.

  28. I’m not a better or worse human for being alcohol-free. I just like the way this feels.

  29. It took some major life challenges to get me to this point and I don’t plan on going back too soon.

  30. Instead of bringing wine to the party, I’m now the guy who brings flowers.

And isn’t that nice?

The Life-Changing Magic of Modeling

When I take stock of the many life-changing decisions I’ve made over the years, I now see that each one was almost always preceded by a phase of “modeling.” I don’t mean modeling as in the cover of VOGUE magazine. I mean lifestyle-modeling. As if life were a toy-sized, 1000-piece propeller plane you could buy at a hobby store back in the day (Amazon’s probably killed all those by now though, right?).

I modeled a vision of my life after one I saw in front of me. I put myself in an environment that resembled the one I wanted for myself. I made friends with people who did the things I wanted to do. And slowly but surely I started living that life and doing those things, for better or for worse. Most of the time I didn’t realize what was happening until later - but now I consciously appreciate modeling as just another natural step towards achieving my goals.

  • In high school, a stacked Honors student’s schedule with a bunch of over-achieving peers influenced me in clear direction. I visited university campuses regularly and modeled my life after my older cousins who graduated from places like UCLA. Not surprisingly I, too, ended up graduating from UCLA years later.

  • In my early twenties, I played in bands and made friends with bedroom producers, picking up the skills to record my own music and upload it to the internet. Shortly after, I began hanging out with independent artists and songwriters who dropped gems of insider information about management and major labels. Years later, I would assemble my own management and marketing team to distribute my music independently.

  • In downtown Los Angeles, I was searching for a retreat from the monotone corporate offices I still worked in during the day to fund my music career. I moved into a loft to be in a more open space, and by walking the streets exploring pop-up shops and cafes, I found a community of like-minded creative entrepreneurs who seemed to be living an enviable life of freedom. Years later, I would cut the corporate umbilical cord to enter that same freelance lifestyle with all of its highs and its lows.

Now that I’m aware of the process, I don’t just envision myself in my dreams. I go and try my dreams on. Just like Japanese denim. Sometimes it takes a little breaking in. You can too:

  1. Want to move to a new neighborhood? Take the long way home and drive through that place every chance you get. Frequent the local businesses, grab a seat on the terrace, and make-believe you live there.

  2. Want to take your visual art to the next level? Scour the IG for references. Find gallery openings to go to - the small ones where people talk to strangers. Get your mood-board ready.

  3. Want to be better with money (ha!)? Experiment with a budget or a business plan and find the one friend or family member who seems to be good at it. Watch a few YouTube videos, listen to a few podcasts, or read a few articles that they might be interested in. You can avoid the dreaded act of “brainpicking” by sharing your thoughts on these content pieces first and following up with a casual question. “What’s your take on this?” An informational conversation can likely blossom from there.

What are some ways modeling has helped you achieve in the past? And how do you see it helping in the future?

You Can Never Go Backwards

If I had a favorite phrase that could sum up my journey as an artist in the last decade, it would have to be “false starts.” So many opportunities to kneel at the starting line. So many shots in the distance that signaled “This is your time!” And on the other side, so many life situations that said “Hold up. Not so fast.”

Life is a rollercoaster, and we tend to pay more attention to the uphill clanking than any other part of the ride. A loss of momentum can feel like a loss of life. A running out of breath. A moment of questioning, “How much longer can I really keep this up?

As our peers seemingly zoom past us in accomplishment after accomplishment, waving to the digital public, the sense of our own inertia grows in intensity. It’s like being held back a grade while everyone else is graduating.

This negative self-image does no good to our creative process, of course. What’s the point in trying when it always feels like a losing game?

Thankfully, there’s an antidote to this feeling of being left behind that I’ve learned to tap into. It’s the simple reminder that no matter where you’re at in life, you can never go backwards. Here are a few examples:

  1. There may be a world in which I miss a timely opportunity to break new music on a major platform and lose out on thousands of potential plays. But the act of collaborating with talented musicians, creating that music, and releasing that music never goes away. The songs themselves live on forever. I am a better writer and better educated artist because of the process. Everything I create will carry the knowledge that comes from my previous experience, pass or fail. The lessons from my past bodies of work live within me and no one can ever take them away.

  2. The last leg of my first concert tour may be cancelled due to low ticket sales. But the experience I got from performing the first leg live in front of a crowd, large or small, night after night never goes away. The skills I sharpened in rehearsal and the people I worked with to put it all together remain. The road stories I’m living to tell my future students or grandchildren are laced with embarrassing moments and disappointments like this. And with that, I am always moving forward.

  3. I may lose a long-term business partnership that I thought would last a lifetime. But the relationship skills and financial education I received in return for my sweat, blood, and tears are an investment in my present and future. I have a foundation to build on, without ever needing to think about it again.

You can apply this idea to a variety of setbacks, whether it be a tough breakup or a health relapse. If experience is a teacher and knowledge is wealth, what seems like going backward is really just another step closer to living more richly.

Watch Your Mouth: How Changing My Language Is Changing My Life

One of the the more transformative lessons I’ve learned is the impact my day-to-day language has on my mood. Seemingly insignificant words have had the power to either carry me into a championship-winning week or hurl me into a whirlpool of “woe is me.” And that word-power produces real consequences when it comes to my art, work, and relationships.

In light of this knowledge, I now consciously make an effort to edit my mental script when things are looking dark. Here are two “easy” word swaps I’ve made to instantly create a more positively charged outlook:

  1. To Me vs. For Me
    Instead of seeing any particular situation (e.g. a career setback, emotional letdown, or personal failure) as an all-out attack that is happening to me, I reframe it as an opportunity for me. An opportunity for me to practice this new mindset I’ve been wanting to have. An opportunity for me to learn and to lead. An opportunity for me to grow.

  2. I Have To vs. I Get To
    If you were to describe this week’s to-do list to a friend, how would you do it? Pay attention to how this feels:

    “I have to wake up at 6AM tomorrow.”
    ”I have to go to the studio and work on this project.”
    ”I have to make a post about ______ to promote my upcoming _______.”
    ”I have to figure out what I’m going to do about _______.”
    ”I need to get my sh*t together.”

    This was me - constantly looking ahead at a pile of tasks that I have to or need to get to, rather than something I’m lucky to be doing. I found that gratitude is the only way to flip the switch, and it’s as easy as replacing the phrase “have to” with “get to.”

    I get to wake up at 6AM tomorrow.”
    ”I get to make a post about _______ to promote my upcoming ______.”
    ”I get to get my shit together!”

    (Bonus: turn “get to” into “choose to” and you’ll be activating an even more powerful starting position.)

What other language makeovers could you see yourself initiating this week?