10 Lessons from a Navy Seal

This came up in my Facebook feed today, and I watched it twice. I've seen it before, but like many things, words, songs, movies, advice...everything can sound different at different points in your life.

Aside from the last three words in this video, I could watch this ad nauseam. It truly is worth watching in its entirety. At least to me, but then again, I clicked on the link because an admiral was pictured, not because it said UT Austin.

Here is a Table of Contents, if you will, of the lessons the admiral shares. Please note that the titles listed below are of my own creation/annotation (and are for my own future reference):

• 1:24 Make decisions, or The Butterfly Effect
• 4:40 Make your bed, or Tasks and Goals
• 6:14 The boat crews, or Find Your Teammates
• 7:20 It's about heart, or Size Doesn't Matter
• 8:38 Uniform Inspections, or The Struggle of Perfectionists
• 10:06 Learn from everything, or Own the Circus
• 11:30 Dive head first, or Fly Outside the Box
• 12:50 Don't back down, or Shark Punching
• 14:00 Keep your cool, or Calmness in Calamity
• 15:38 Don't lose hope, or Singing while Sinking
• 17:50 Don't quit, or You Can't Un-Ring a Bell

#BoomerSooner

PBDC Day 22/31: Morning

Each morning, when I wake up, regardless of what time it is, I open the blinds at the balcony door. Most days, it let's the sunlight in, but on those days when I've woken up before the sun has risen, I still open them.

I do this because I was on a submarine.

Yes, I've been out for almost ten years, but what I experienced and learned while in the US Navy (not to be confused with Old Navy, which I'm still happy to be with), applies to my life every single day and helps me to appreciate what's around me.

Let's just be out with it: There are no windows on submarines. Yeah, I know the Yellow Submarine, Nemo's Adventure at Disneyland, blazi, blazi, blah. But on actual functioning, deploying, diving, Silent Service submarines there are no windows or portholes to "watch the fish swim by" or "look to see where you are."

There are so many things that I appreciate so much more after having served aboard a submarine than before, one of which is natural light. Think of all those times you turned on a lamp out of habit instead of opening the blinds or drawing the curtains? If given a choice, I go with sunlight every time. It just feels better. Really.

Those days when you walk outside and literally stop for a couple seconds to feel the sun warm your face? When's the last time you did that in a hallway under fluorescent lights or LED lamps? That's right, you didn't.

I fully recognize that there are billions of people who will never experience the privilege (or sentence) of serving aboard a vessel devoid of windows and natural light like the USS Hyman G Rickover, SSN-709, but that doesn't mean you can't appreciate things many still take for granted.

Like that coffee maker on your counter, or that toaster. Or that water heater, oven, or dishwasher. Or those windows in your apartment that you live in by yourself with out hundreds of other people in the room with you. Or fresh vegetables and fruit.

I'm very proud to have served in the Navy, but also a little bit ashamed that it took me such a drastic lifestyle change to appreciate things I was privileged to have as a child, and still today. Like I said, you don't need to serve in the military to appreciate certain things (like those who served in the military), you just have to open your eyes are really see. Open your mind and really feel.

Open your heart and really live.

PBDC Day 5/31: Something Beginning With i

i went out for lunch today.

i have the day off from work, and this morning was not as relaxing or as quiet as i had hoped for it to be. Marlon from days past would have either bought a pack of cigarettes, or had it been later in the day, maybe gone to a bar to see some the regulars who are probably sitting in their regular seats, but today...

i got a three-cheese cheesesteak with bacon cheese fries and a lemonade.

i enjoyed every last bite. And as I sat in the food court at the mall and ate my Charley's treat, i noticed one of those cell-phone recycling/selling kiosks.

instant cash for your cell phones here!

instant. How very 21st century American of us.

it needs to happen now to have some worth.

if it's going to appeal to consumers, instant is the way to go.

i saw a sign for an iComfort bed on my way to the mall, but in my safe driving world where I don't touch my phone once the car is in motion, i passed on the opportunity for the highly riveting subject.

i don't have an iPhone anymore. i left my 3GS behind when i got my Samsung GS2 a while back.

i have an iPod that i rarely use, and i don't have an iPad.

i wrote a Facebook note in 2008, and i posted it on my blog in 2010. i titled it "a crash course in honesty"

i took myself to lunch today, because i need to get out of the apartment at least once a day, just to keep myself from going crazy.

i like being able to make choices for myself, even if they are simple ones like getting something for lunch.

i start every single day with the choice to get out of bed, and lucky for my co-workers and customers, i also choose to take a shower each morning.

i believe in making choices for myself.

i believe in God.

i believe in free will.

i like speaking my mind.

i love telling stories.

i love.

i try not to hate.

i do get angry, but that's because i care about many things, and am passionate about nearly as many.

"inspiration starts" with "i," as do "imagination," and "innovation," and "insemination".

i am writing my 100th blog on this page right now, but by the time you read it, i will have written my 100th blog for this page. so you're reading the 100th post on Ally of the Mind.

i named this page Ally of the Mind alluding to Sam Shepard's play, A Lie of the Mind. A wonderful play, if i do say so myself, and i came across it in preparation for a Christopher Durang piece i directed entitled A Stye of the Eye.

i know today is Ash Wednesday (for the Catholics out there) and i can safely say that Catholic guilt is at its lowest point in my life as it has ever been.

i learned a lot from my friends at church, and i learned a lot more about myself when i chose to stop going.

i think it's because i started asking more questions. Not just of Catholicism, but of the world, myself, the people around me, and those who i learned so much from whether they were teaching me or not.

i will continue to write.

i will keep taking pictures.

it prompted me to take a picture of something beginning with "i," and so i want to end with something complementary. The polar opposite of "i" as i have been using it today would be "you," so here i go.

i love you.

i don't hate you anymore.

i'm sorry you feel that way.

i miss you.

Photo and Blog a Day Challenge-Day 27/28: In Love With

The first school play I was ever in was in the fifth grade, and it was a class play (meaning everyone in the class was in it). It had an educational theme to it, being set in a classroom and pertaining to much of the curriculum that year--states and capitals. Despite my enthusiasm for the production, I was not given the opportunity for a lead role since my teacher did not believe I could focus enough to learn all the lines. So I had one of the smallest roles in the show, a boy named Jimmy Johnson (maybe that's really why I don't like the Lowe's 48 #NASCAR #StandWithSmoke), and my first line in the play was, "I'll say!"

When I was in high school I landed my first lead role-with the church theatre group-and I later found out that I wasn't cast based on talent, but because I was the only male that fit the lead's character description. With my high school drama program I was cast in my first musical, Little Shop of Horrors, and although I felt my nerdiness made me a lock for the lead of Seymour, I was cast to appear onstage as an unnamed supporting role ("Wino) in the opening number, but then sat in the orchestra pit to be the voice of the plant, Audrey II. At five feet, two inches tall, and about 120 pounds soaking wet, most audiences didn't believe that such a little guy supplied the booming voice for the alien plant--but I did. Well.

Through my time at Diablo Valley College I was blessed with an array of works to perform with: Shakespeare's MacBeth, Moliere's The Imaginary Invalid, an original Greek work by Nicole Hess-Diestler and Zach Diestler called Iphigenia at Aulis. There were numerous scene studies, or Brown Bags as we'd call them, where I was given great opportunities to delve into pieces by John Patrick Shanley (Frankie and Johnny), Emily Mann (The Execution of Justice), David Rabe (Hurlyburly). And there were even a couple of musicals, Bat Boy, a contemporary rock musical, and Some Enchanted Evening, a Rodgers and Hammerstein revue.

At Cal State Long Beach I played a cholo (Los Lobos de la Noche), an Indian boy (A Chance, an original piece by Chetan Sanathara), a Shakespearean father (Gentlemen Redux), and a gay man (Our Lady of 121st Street).

With the shows that I have been fortunate enough to be in, I've been challenged and stretched and corraled and set free. And even with my tattoos (which are something many of my theatre classmates considered to be taboo or too cumbersome to have to work around), I didn't have to cover them up in as nearly many shows as I was asked to show them off. Actually, for my role in Los Lobos they actually added more tattoos. And through all of this: Shakespeare, Greek, Moliere, cholo, Indian, gay, original pieces, I never had to be naked onstage. In a piece I directed, The Big Funk, by Shanley, one of my actors had to be naked, and I mean fully naked, no socks, dance belts, or nothing, but I myself had never been naked on stage.

Being naked is a scary thing for many people. Taking a shower or bath is probably the one thing that most people can be comfortable doing naked. Yes, I omitted sex, because 1. you don't have to be completely naked (#socks #shirts) and 2. being this intimate with someone doesn't necessarily mean you're absolutely comfortable with being naked.

So that leaves showertime as the singular occasion of being comfortable with nakedness.

I write quite a bit about positivity, especially in regards to loving one's self, and although it probably won't come as a surprise, I feel it to be a strong gesture to say it explicitly. I'm not always happy with my body.

In more bathrooms than not, stepping out of the shower usually places me face to face with the mirror above the sink. Nothing like starting your day with a vigorously hot shower, reviving you from your slumber, only to be slapped in the face by, well, your face...above your naked body. This is typically not the best feeling. 

But recently, I've been better about accepting my awesomeness and being happy with who I am. How much better? I took a picture of myself after I got out of the shower today.

With my hair messy and still a little bit wet, unkempt eyebrows center stage, I took a picture of myself at a time when I would normally not want anyone to see me. But today I do. Because I love who I am and I'm in love with myself. Not in a narcissistic way, but in a way that is in reply to, "If you don't love yourself, why should anyone else be?"

I'm a pretty hairless guy. Have you ever seen me with a mustache? Or a goatee with some sweet chops to frame it? Nope. And my hairless back (which I'm not complaining about) pictured above is right in line with my unmanly (by stereotypical standards) hairless chest.

This commercial was a nice reminder that every style is ok. Thanks, Genesis. #CallMe

The tattooed cat is out of the bag, and my upper back tattoos are now for everyone to see in all its bloggy glory. Kanjis for "wisdom" (Connecticut) and "loyalty" (Virginia), an anchor-inspired Sagittarius symbol (NorCal), and a modification of the Alexander Pope quotation, "To err is human, to forgive divine." (Montana).

I used to think that tattoos helped to draw attention away from parts of my body that I did not wish to show off (especially in my beach bum days when all I wore was a hat and a pair of board shorts), but I have since then refocused my appreciation for my ink as I became a curator of my own gallery. The tattoos on my skin are like patches on a cruise jacket-symbolizing deployments, missions, and battle groups.

Being on stage naked was something that many of us talked about in school, mostly in a fearful light. Just thinking about all those people and making eye contact with them afterwards knowing that they saw you in such an adulterated manner without reciprocation. But with live theatre, after the moment it's gone. With photography, that moment is frozen in time forever. 

But what good is a moment unless it's shared with others. So I wanted to share it with everyone (thanks to body positioning and framing a tasteful shot).

I am in love with myself. That's the healthiest, most fulfilling love anyone can have, and everyone should.

Photo and Blog a Day Challenge-Day 24/28: In Between

You can thank me later, but I refrained from taking a picture of myself in bed. #TheSheets

And as I sat in the break room at work today I found my victim for today.

Symmetrical sandwich art, ah thankyouverymuch.

Turkey pastrami, colby jack cheese, and mustard on wheat. Pretty simple. Awesomely delicious. Filling and satisfying.

I like sandwiches. Hot or cold. Sliced bread, rolls, subs, you name it, I'm down. I'm a simple guy when it comes to many things. I'll enjoy the occasional grinder, everything on it Eat Fresh masterpiece from Subway, or Freaky Fast JJs sub, but most days I'm cool with the made at home simpleton like the one above.

It's easily identifiable, clear, and straightforward.

Far from what Anderson Cooper got from Republican Senator Melvin on AC360 tonight.

Short intro: Arizona. Senate Bill 1062 (#SB1062).

The Arizona State Legislature passed the bill last Thursday, February 20th. Governor Jan Brewer's desk met it this morning. She has until March 1st to sign it through or veto it. Sen. Melvin calls it a "religious freedom bill." Anderson Cooper (and many of the protestors) are calling it out as a bill that legally allows business owners to discriminate because of sexual orientation.

Melvin goes on to juke and jive around Cooper's questions in cringe-worthy fashion. See the full interview here.

Yes, I'm disgusted at the view that Senator Melvin has in support of this "religious freedom" bill, but as Cooper goes on to state in the clip, it isn't about having the same views, but moreso just being able to state your view and own that shit.

For me? I support equality. Gender, ethnicity, sexual orientation, religious beliefs, any of them. Discrimination is discrimination whatever or whomever you believe in.

If you're leaving someone out you're discriminating.

If you pick someone to be on your team because they're better than another, that's discrimination. If you  prefer Coke over Pepsi, that's discrimination.

If you don't like gays, blacks, Jews, Asians, Muslims, then by all means, that's on you. But when you start dancing the line like a bullshit politician who has openly stated he's running for governor, or any president or world leader, or CEO, or professor, or coach, or professional athlete, then  you're a coward. You're a classless, spineless bitch.

Own your shit. Stand up for what you believe in and tell the world that you would rather deny people that have no negative affect on your lifestyle privileges than support equal rights.

In a tweet from three weeks ago, Ricky Gervais shared, "Same sex marriage isn't gay privilege, it's equal rights. Privilege would be something like gay people not paying taxes. Like churches don't"

All these folks who are going to end up on the losing side of historical progress are throwing out "traditional marriage" and "Bible this" and "Bible that".

You know what we could use some more of from these suits that we Americans have elected? Some Phil Robertson. Back in December I wrote this post about his controversial statements.

Ducking questions pisses me off (#seewhatididthere). Own your boy's bill, Senator Melvin, Own your views. Own the fact that there is discrimination in Arizona just like there is in any other state.

I was raised in the East Bay Area in northern California. I've lived in South Carolina, Virginia, and now Indiana. I went to college in southern California. Discrimination is everywhere. In the first year that I moved back to NorCal after I got out of the Navy, I experienced more racism and discrimination in the "oh-so-diverse" state of California than I did the entire six years I spent in Illinois, South Carolina, and Virginia.

People talk about how diverse California is, and how it's not possibly nearly as racist as the deep South.  I'll give you the first one--California is diverse, but that doesn't mean everyone gets along. Chinatown. Japantown. Koreatown, Little Italy, projects, affluent neighborhoods, you think they all talk to each other? We may not have as many train tracks, but you know when you've crossed into another territory. Don't kid yourself with that shit.

So there. A little heated tonight, but that's because we're in a time where the bullshit just doesn't cut it anymore. There are no clear divisions like in my awesome turkey pastrami sandwich. The in between won't hack it for intelligent, rational folks. Pick a side. On anything. Everything. Just have an answer and own it.

Own. That. Shit.

Photo and Blog a Day Challenge-Day 16/28: Different

Little. Yellow. Different.

Those of us above a certain age may recognize those words as a slogan from a late 80s commercial for Nuprin. (Travel back in time here.) I can't decide if I'm amazed, weirded out, or slightly brainwashed, but that is what I thought of when I read the photo prompt for today.

There is some irony in the fact that I remember a commercial for ibuprofen years before I joined the Navy, injured my shoulders, and began a ridiculous regimen that occasionally surpassed several thousand milligrams of the painkiller per day. It's like this marketing bug stuck with me almost knowing I would have a long-term relationship with the medication.

Fortunately, it has been quite a while since I've had to turn to prescription strength ibuprofen, and I'd like to think that my reconstructive surgery in 2011 has helped that, but that still doesn't drive me in a direction for the day's photography.

Thinking to myself that I need to take a picture of something different was like trying to isolate my favorite droplet of water in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Virginia Beach. So I shifted my perspective and thought that, instead of taking a picture of something different, I should take today's picture differently.

With my trusty pocket pal, the Samsung Galaxy SII, I went for the special effects.

Deciding what to snap was easy. Selfies have been a hot topic of discussion in the last year or so. With Obama getting the cold shoulder from the FLOTUS at the Mandela memorial, to the horrible trend of funeral selfies, and extreme selfies, shooting my own just felt right.

Here's one with flash.

The filter? Negative.

I don't look at myself in a negative light as often as I used to twelve, fifteen years ago, but I can say with confidence that now, even in a negative light, I like what I see. I see the highlight of light in the corners of my mouth and I think about how my braces in my sophomore and junior years of high school helped me literally mold the smile I have today. I notice the frames that frame my eyes, and think about how grateful I am to see.

(sidebar: I just searched my blog for what I thought was a post about me getting my eyeglasses in the sixth grade, but to no avail. What I thought was a blog post was a section from my unfinished NaNoWriMo book Juliet's Window.)

I see my hair and I think that, nearly ten years after separating from the military, I still prefer to keep it pretty short. If it gets long enough to touch the inside of my earlobe, it freaks me out. I see my clean shaven face, and I think of all the bartenders and servers that look at my when they card me, telling my I've got a baby face.

Spring semester, 2006, I dove into my first acting class at DVC, Beginning Acting with Beth McBrien. On this particular day she led us through an exercise that had everything to do with seeing yourself. Scanning. In the Arena Theatre, we all got out of our seats and partnered up with someone else in the class. Standing less than two feet from Mario, someone that became one of my closest friends while at DVC, we took turns scanning.

I went first, speaking what I saw. Truthfully, honestly, and openly. I see two eyes. I see brown hair. I see a nose, I see you smiling. I see you blinking. It goes on for several minutes. Observing and speaking about it has never been difficult for me. I'm observant and I like to speak my mind truthfully. But then it was time to switch. And as he looked at me, I stood there, on the stage of the Arena Theatre, surrounded by the other pairs in the class, and was scanned. He spoke what he saw, and I stood there silently. I tried to smile through it. I probably started laughing at one point. But as he continued to look and kept commenting and observing and telling me exactly what he saw, I couldn't take it. I ran up the stairs into the hallway and the flood gates opened. In a ball, sitting on the cement in the cool hallway, I was a complete mess. At first I couldn't understand what had caused this emotional outburst. We were just participating in a simple beginning acting class exercise. I kept my head down, but as my classmates walked out at the end of class, they all knew I had been sobbing. Not crying. Not weeping. Sobbing.

After everyone had left, Beth had came outside, and she had invited me back inside to talk. I had told her I had no idea why this exercise had such a drastic affect on me, and without prodding, she assured me that if something as "simple" as scanning could evoke such a high level of emotion, I held in my person such a powerful fuel that actors covet. Later on, I realized what this exercise reminded me of--hearing what someone saw in me in such a brutal truth. But it wasn't in a classroom, and it wasn't in the name of art. It took me a while to be ok with scanning, but once I got past being so defensive (usually with laughter, which was--well, still is--a defense mechanism) I learned that the simple act of seeing, observing, and sharing in a truthful, honest manner, is the most direct connection you can share with someone. Over time I learned that that doesn't just apply in theatre. Sure, theatrical acting was the focus, but it's also an integral piece of professional acting (because, let's face it, even though we aren't all thespians, we're all acting to some extent on the stage we call the workplace), as well as social interacting (you don't talk to grandma the way you talk to your favorite bartender...or maybe you do).

So yeah. I see myself. I see myself in a different light because I've acknowledged that I see myself. And a lot of that has to do with what other people see. Not to say that how I feel about myself is based entirely on how people view me, there's a balance in consideration or ignoring those views, but how I see myself has so much to do with awareness. And what I do with that awareness has helped me see myself in a positive light, whether or not the filter through which I'm being viewed is negative.

So thank you, Beth McBrien, my partner Mario, and beginning acting class for detonating the first blast in the years of sedimentary insecurities. Thank you, art, for allowing me to see myself in a way that will go beyond the theatre doors. And thank you, childhood experience, for rooting yourself so deep within myself that a simple harmless act of someone telling me that I have brown eyes and freckles on my skin could force me to run out a classroom that simply encouraged us to embrace art within ourselves.

If it were not for all this, I would be exactly the same as I was years ago. Heavily guarded. But I'm not. I'm much smarter, or rather, aware, of who I am. And I love that I'm different.

A Quick Rant from an Angry Asian

THIS was shared by ESPN on Facebook today. I was hoping it was an article about the Lakers taking a beating from the Celtics... #ClipperNation

The article states that he "was drafted directly out of high school in 1996, so he never had the opportunity to experience college life first-hand."

Never? “He never had the opportunity”?

Well, I don't know how his grades were, but to say he NEVER had the opportunity is extreme. He did. He just went for the opportunity that he felt better suited him, so don't make him look like some underprivileged kid who actually won't be able to go to college, because that's just garbage.

Oh, hi, I'm Kobe MFin Bryant—Mr. Black Mamba if you’re nasty—so I'll just casually stroll into a college course that all of these students had to work really hard for and hope there was room when they registered.

And this is news? This is worthy of sharing so kids that idolize one of the greatest NBA players of all time can go, “I can go to college later.”

Or even, maybe I’ll just crash a course and sit in to see if I like it because I don’t have to go work because I’m worth more than half the countries in eastern Europe.

Yeah, that’s it, go ahead and make news of this and exploit the privilege that this athlete gets to toss around and stroll into wherever he wants.

I hope you get a B on your final.

Sincerely,

A mildly angry Filipino who maybe could have gone to college directly out of high school, but went in to the Navy first and used to GI Bill to go to a junior college first before transferring to CSULB. #GoBeach

Minding the gaps and burning bridges

Will we ever get to a point where no longer default to a comment on appearance whenever we see nieces, nephews, babies, and other children so that they aren’t starved for compliments focused on their physical image as they get older?

Think about it.

Over the holidays. How many babies, toddlers, kids, and teens did you see? And how many of them did you comment on how they looked?

Oh, you’re getting so big!

I love her chubby cheeks!

Oh, you’re growing up and becoming so beautiful!

Ok, time out.

I get it. You haven’t seen someone in a while, and as you literally see them walk up, you go for the easy way out and comment on your first reaction, what you see. But look at this way…

They don’t see you often. When they do, you comment on how they look. More times than not you’re probably feeding them, giving them a second helping, or telling them to eat more and put some meat on their bones.

Before we even talk about commercials, magazines, red carpet specials, movies, music videos, billboards, ads, EVERYTHING THEY SEE EVERY DAY…the small network of people they subconsciously rely on for their safety and well being is setting them up to focus on one thing…

How. They. Look.

Maybe I should take another step back.

You’ve probably heard about the trend of the thigh gap.

I read something today about boasting a bikini bridge.

The article was shared online with a tagline referring to how there aren’t already enough ways for girls to feel bad about their bodies.

First off, it isn’t just girls that have image issues, boys to too. As do women, and men.

Secondly, Jennifer Lawrence has nothing to do with how you feel about your body. Nor does Alyssa Milano, or Jay Mohr.

You do. And whether you’re reading this pertaining to yourself, or as a parent, uncle, or aunt in regards to your favorite children, it’s still up to you.

So don’t go blaming the media for forcefeeding this impossible images into their heads. Don’t blame the fashion industry for hiring stick thin models to show off clothes you’ll never afford nor wear on any regular day when you work in your office, school, restaurant, or home. Don’t blame musicians, artists, politicians, or any of them.

How about this? Don’t blame anyone.

But start the re-education in your own home, better yet, in your own mind.

Try refraining from commenting on someone’s image and talk to them for a bit. Compliment them on their successes in soccer this year, or a science project they rocked out. Ask them about what book they’re reading, or what sports team they like, and have a conversation about why you think One Direction is to them what N’Sync was to you, or The Beatles or Taylor Swift.

Try broadening your own perspective and encouraging them with more than physical appearances, and if you do want to comment on their appearance, try something new like:

You look so healthy!

You look happy!

Or flip the perspective:

I’m so glad to see you!

I’ve missed you so much!

I’ve been missing this hug all year.

Give and show them worth in regards to their relationship with you. Not based on what you see. Because the less you see, the less they become, not just to you, but to themselves.

And one more thing in regards to weight, size, and fashion…stop obsessing over what size you are, because no one’s going to stop you and say, “oh, those 14s are too small.” Why not? Because they don’t know the size you’re wearing, they just see how it fits your body. And guess what? Clothes are made in so many different sizes for a reason. So don’t focus on fitting a size. Focus on wearing what amplifies your awesome. Show off the intangibles they can’t see, and use what they can see to make it spectacular.

UPDATE: I saw this video today (2/28/14) and knew I had to add it to one of my blogs about children because it says so poignantly what I want to drive home. So here it is...

Countdown to Midnight

Fifteen minutes before midnight on January 1^st and I’m clacking away at the keys on the laptop. What a difference a day makes, yes? New Year’s Eve is something celebrated around the world in many ways: fireworks, feasts, clubs, dancing, DJs, board games, house parties, a quiet night with a loved one, or even working through the night away from all the festivities. For others, they go to sleep at a traditional time and wake up the next day like every other.

Maybe we can take a hint from those folks some may label as “party poopers” or “old people” or “boring folks”.

Look at it this way: what if we treated every midnight as a new opportunity to start fresh? What if we partied every night like that? What if we lay ourselves down to sleep and woke up the next morning with an invigorated feeling that presented us with a clean canvas?

I’ll share a secret with you—you don’t have to wait for New Year’s Eve each year to start over.

Let go of the dumb shit whenever you want. Start fresh whenever the feeling welcomes you. Maybe even if it doesn’t.

Wake up each morning with a little bit more excitement than you did the night before, and go to bed each night a little more victorious than you were the night prior.

Don’t get me wrong, I love a party as much as the next person does, but don’t rely on the public to give you a moment to start fresh. Drop your own illuminated ball on the Times Square in your house. Shoot off fireworks every time you brush your teeth or play with your dog.

Resolve to live each day within the year. Don’t wait for the calendar to change so that you can. Change and let the calendar catch up with you.

Happy 2014 folks. Happy January. Happy Thursday. Happy day.