Only a day late this time. Getting better. That’s all I can ask. I went to Movement this weekend. It’s a big electronic music festival. I can only stand those things for a few hours at a time. I have no particular predilection towards EDM and trance and acid so these don’t tickle me the way they do for the tens of thousands of others who attended. But I like the spectacle. I like the humanity. Not because of the specific actions carried out inside the heaving fleshy mass, but because they are me and we are us. Without getting to new agey, I’m just trying to say that seeing people is good for me, if only because I’m a people, too. Inside a vacuum, the natural progression of a system is to expand indefinitely until explosion. Or rapid deterioration, for the less dramatic. It grants me perspective. It is humbling to understand the relative insignificance of my life. Jerry Seinfeld always said that pictures of earth in space always seemed calming to him for that very same reason. I suppose it is the same reason we seek the ocean shore.
Being an entrepreneur is a dualistic lifestyle. You’re selling things, which means you’ve got to be constantly engaging with the outside world, at least in a superficial regard, but also whatever product you’ve built up is constantly going through iterations in your own mind. Even if whatever widget or app or disease you’ve created is “perfect”, it is still going to be going through the constant mental improvement cycle. Often times, one of these facets can overtake the other, leading to gross misapplication of time and effort. In my opinion, routinely immersing yourself in the mortal deluge helps even one out. It provides context for your thoughts, your existence, et cetera, et cetera. I say “et cetera” not because I can’t think of anything else to add to the list, but because, assuredly, I cannot thing of all the potentialities pertinent to your life.
I’m sitting in a coffee shop right now, waiting to get my oil changed. Big things are happening for Bocandy. Big things are happening for Bojerky. Big things are happening to the line of merchandise I’ve got in bookstores. But, if I dive too deeply into the mind trench that’s swirling these around, I risk forgetting why I’m doing what I’m doing. For me, that is never good. it ruins me. it turns the motivation to rot. So I sit here, eating a bagel, listening to the self-indulgent tripe around me. Why? Because my own egotistical drivel needs company, of course, of course.