Stickiness, DIrty Jeans and the Truth

I woke up this morning remembering that I’ve been thinking about Malcom Gladwell’s stickiness. For those that haven’t read The Tipping Point, Mr. Gladwell discusses marketing and business with a somewhat enlightened view. One of his crucial points is what he calls stickiness—how long and well an item holds a person’s attention.

If you’ve read me until now you may know that I agree but with significant qualifications.

His primary example of stickiness is Sesame Street. What they did was tweak how they showed things and tested everything until they found what held children’s attention the best and longest.

While this looks like a reason to test the bejesus out of everything and support including more critical methods (fear, control, product testing) in the development of goods, services and content it is actually a pretty bad example.

First off, it’s adults making things for kids. While this may be a decent example for the material economy—people in a position of responsibility making things for addictive consumption—it works almost not at all for the spiritual or creative economy, which—if you have read me on this blog—I believe to comprise most of the significant growth of the economy for the foreseeable future.

In the spiritual economy, too much doubt (testing, editing, etc.) can very quickly kill off the sweet ether that makes something loveable in the first place. You don’t have to be in too many relationships to know that matters of the heart are best handled with kid gloves—or simply left free.

Developing and producing things in the spiritual economy is much like catching butterflies—it is almost impossible to do it without altering that which was already perfect. You have to capture the fleeting ideas or feelings to deliver them, but like bread, they are easy to over handle. My current thinking is leave it the hell alone even if it’s rough. Better that people have to see through a mistake or two than see me get uptight and crush my own shit.

One ridiculous aspect of the current material economy is that it goes to great length to feign authenticity through wear, mistake and dirtiness. This happens in movies, jeans, music and just about everywhere you find the issue of soul arising. It does this to prove that it is unafraid. Nothing, however could be further from the truth.

Cleanliness, not dirt, is what is next to godliness. The authentic isn’t afraid of getting dirty (or the dark) but it is an equal or greater mistake to insist that the truth is dirty or broken. It is more likely that authenticity in our current economy has so often been forced to address material obscurity that it has often arrived a bit tattered. And so becomes dirty or worn! But you cannot, cannot, cannot put the cart before the horse. This goes for punk rockers and filmmakers who pretend they don’t know how to light a film as much as those who have jacked up the price of jeans to $250 (because they take so long to wear out?).

Plus, now that we’re all rich, the blues—and I’ll include rock-n-roll, ripped jeans, punk rock, and square toes shoes here just to get your goat—are a pose anyway.

Luckily all things are perfect. And celebrities in their Authentic Revolution jeans will look back at photos of today as we now look back on acid wash. They are, in fact, the same thing.

Which brings me back to the blues. God bless the blues. It has brought us much of what we know of as culture in the modern day. Unfortunately, it is not long for this world. Except as a museum piece. Even if today’s career artists are, future generations will be unwilling to be unhappy simply to make money.

The culture that is emerging, I would argue, will be based on something like the pinks. A joy rooted in the friction that the material world demands instead of beholden to it. If the blues was joy springing from an empty lot (or the Mississippi Delta), then the pinks (it’ll have a better name probably), will be acres and acres of flowers with deer, dog, or moose scat here or there and some bugs—wherever is through natural processes that the creators didn’t feel like controlling. If you look at van Gogh’s “Starry Night” you can see patches of unpainted canvas. He was chewing forward—always forward. And didn’t care much about the editing the past. That’s why he painted so many masterpieces.

Another example would be a $3,000 Brioni suit with a loose button or hanging thread. It’s there because the guy who made it had to run off and see his daughter’s soccer game. Or because the owner, even though he demands the best, refuses to stop skateboarding and he forgot to unbutton before he smacked that ollie on Wabash. (On his way to a meeting about financing his film? To meet his wife?)

It may even look the same! As the material becomes less insecure about being authentic and before the spiritual has enough oomph to really believe, two items (or ideas) from distinct origins may even look identical. It will be up to the consumer to discern where the truth lies. I (heart) Huckabees and Adaptation are both examples of movies that appear “indie” but are actually informed by coming spiritual values. They still look like 90s grunge but have actually loving content if you squint. They are growing up and taking responsibility for their own happiness.

Back to stickiness—stickiness is a major factor in the emerging economy but it will be easy to understand backwards. The stickiest of all substances is unconditional love—precisely because it never sticks. And as people grow in consciousness they will demand what looks to the material economy as less and less sticky goods, services and ideas. Businesses from both sides will appear at times like the other. It could get confusing, but will ultimately sort itself out. Sticky stickiness is unsustainable.

The material economy likes sticky sticky—sugar, caffeine, crude oil, rubber, cigarettes, alcohol, addictive relationships, pornography, etc. (Kids at my school used to call good pot “The Sticky”—because it had so much THC resin on it. They’d even go so far as to stick it on the wall to prove it.) The spiritual economy rewards the unsticky sticky—inspiration, herbal tea, clear and supportive relationships, beauty, etc.

It’s interesting to note that to create the stickiness that Gladwell talks about in a relationship, the best thing would be to belittle or doubt the person (or worship them or put them on a pedestal)—and thus create inequality and dependence. I’m not surprised that all of my work experiences with managers have been dysfunctional.

And, again, the point here is not to get or be pure by some outside standard. The point here is what works. The idea of a tipping point is all about a critical mass. Once you achieve critical mass love grows on its own. What works may look different for different people in different cultures. The true test is long-term utility—true stickiness—true love if you will. In many cases, however, this will appear distinct from Gladwell’s testable, short-term stickiness.

(Although not as distinct as you’d think—factor in feelings and the entirety of the experience to get a better idea of true stickiness. The stickiness of a cup of coffee isn’t only from the fourth sip to the fifth—it’s also the high, the come down, the tired eyes the next day, the irritability, the loss of emotional self-determination. The only way any of this stuff is sticky is that we treat ourselves so poorly that we ignore the low more feverently than we pursue the high.)

If I was hiring or training managers the first thing I’d do is stick them in a room alone with a bunch of second graders. In five minutes you’ll know more about those managers than after twenty years on the job. All in terms of love and relationship. Kids know. If you look down on them they’ll ignore you. If you kiss their butts they’ll eat you alive. Only through a quantum balance can you build a genuine relationship with a child.

And I think this is why the ultimate level five leaders—Jesus, the Buddha, etc.—all suggest salvation has something to do with a childlike nature. Children have no problem either asserting themselves of expressing their vulnerability. They know what they want. Turns out that making money will require the same thing.

[A note about religion and spirituality vis-a-vis stickiness. It is my belief that all religions started off with very loving, non-sticky stickiness and that most of the challenges with and people’s disinterest in current religion is due to the surreptitious (or blatant) adding of sticky stickiness by power- or social control-minded folks along the way. (Fear creating fear to allay a fear).]

Hey--I Got a Comment!

Hey! This is cool. Not only did I get a lovely comment from LadyBug (thanks LB), but I am officially up at www.ebencarlson.com. I'm'n'a put a place marker on Blogger and then--well you know--off to the races. This is almost as exciting as Christmas. More actually. Lots of love all around. My prayers go out to those affected by the tsunami. I'm also thinking of putting up the original posts from this e-mail list before it was a blog. From 2001. I was reading some today and I must say I give that person (who was me?) credit for some cahones. A youthful energy bordering on mania. God bless the young. reminds me to loosen up a bit. I think its even the business people who hunger for the most wacked out. There certainly is something to not giving a shit.

How to Get What You Want

"Cash rules everything around me/C.R.E.A.M/Get the money/Dolla, dolla bills y’all!"

--Wu Tang

I was riding the El today and went past a hospital with someone opening the door to go in.

It struck me that, from what I can tell, illness is your body’s attempt to deal with a lacking past. Mess around too long and you get a cold, get cancer, have a heart attack. Messing around being stepping out on your soul—smoking, refusing to rest, not speaking up, ignoring your dreams, etc.

I then thought of our whole society as an enormous reaction to the fear that we were starving (or dying, or in danger). I then thought of business’ love of data and numbers—of quantification—and it seemed obvious to me that that was a love of the past. Or at best, a future so afraid of the past that it cannot create anything but what it thought was the best of the past. (With momentary glimpses of the creative future as it runs dry of numbers to crunch).

I then thought what that block may have been like if all that time, energy, money and love that was there to heal people’s pasts had just been allocated to ensuring their futures in the first place. Certainly the hospital represented hundreds of millions of dollars.

What would it look like to free a whole block of people from ever having to face fear? I’m not talking about growing up rich and having so much accumulated fear that you spend your whole life feeling guilty and worthless or trying to give it away—help someone else. I’m talking about a life completely supported forever. What if someone supported your every whim and fancy.

I then thought what people would think if I started talking about doing what you want. Inevitably, beer and porn come up.

If we all could do what we wanted forever, wouldn’t we just act like monkeys at a landfill and get fat, lazy and suffer worse hygiene? Isn’t that what the problem is already?

Most definitely not, my better half argued. Beer, porn and whatever else is cheap substitution for a feeling that we lose somewhere from the first hospital to the last hospital. And it doesn’t even work. We’ve just got horribly low standards.

Whenever someone mentions that I have a lot of discipline (when I’m refusing a piece of cake or something similarly longsighted) I try to mention that I’ve never changed what I was looking for a day in my life. I have gone for a feeling of contentment—for what I wanted—and taken the easiest and most stable road I could find every single time.

It was the road I took drinking beer before class in high school, smoking a pack a day after, and turning coffee into a religion in Burlington, VT (coffee was the one I thought I’d never have to give up).

It was the road I took eating bowls of pasta at the Green Cat in Seattle, doing yoga, reading self-help books, and chasing women I didn’t really care about. It was the road I took doing just about everything.

And then one day—after I was eating according to my blood type, after I had had all the proper massage, after I had taken a nap every day for a few years, after I had taken a course of amino acids, and filled notebooks with exercises from The Feeling Good Handbook (all of which work, by the way)—it dawned on me: all I was doing was mediating the past’s effect on how I felt in the present. Why not give up on it all together? Why not just flip it!? Why not just ignore everything that happened to me and move in on a permanent basis with what I wanted to do every day. What if I simply never panicked?

It was strange at first—but I never forgot anything important. I still know where I was born, what I’ve done my whole life, and how I felt when my parents got divorced. But a funny thing started happening as I began to insist that my fears and so-called issues walk on their own—the inside became inside and the outside became outside. I turned inside out. And that feels like a vastly superior way to walk down the street.

When I was writing my book (and horribly depressed) I realized that if my depression ever lifted I’d have to express and act on all the wild thoughts that ran through my head. That if I had the energy and time to live that I’d have to actually live. And nothing scared me more.

I thought that would be like my ideas on acid. I thought that it would be like Eminem’s “Lose Yourself”—borderline crazy—and I didn’t want to do that.

But that was just my brain talking. You don’t get present with your brain still going, you find, grab and switch to your gut. You learn how to ignore more and more of the clutter and clatter around you until it’s manageable. You feel fear but know how to choose not to pay attention to it. We’re constantly doing this—either paying attention to ourselves or the fear. In a very real way we choose god or a devil every moment.

Which is not to say that as soon as you decide to take chances you know what you’re doing. There is a reason they call it the dark night of the soul. Because you don’t know where the hell you are or what you’re doing. But that’s okay too. You start to see patterns. Feel similarities. Get comfortable doing this new kind of work. You develop a whole group of things you’d be willing to die for.

Back to the point at hand—our wants and living forward instead of backing through life—once you try something like beer as a way of life (I’m thinking here of the album “More Beer” by the band Fear), there’s no way you can sustain it. The only way is to taper off and taper off—or go whole hog and see where that gets you. And we all know that gets you nowhere.

Grace Llewellyn (what a great name). in her genius book “The Teenage Liberation Handbook”, posits the same answer to a parental question about a child wanting to watch television every day once he or she is “liberated” from school. She says let ‘em watch—and not even mention it. They couldn’t possibly watch it for more than six months straight without getting bored, she says.

It was that advice that made me think that all our excess television, beer, cigarettes, double tall grandes, and blackout shopping trips were fearful responses to the fearful conditions that created them in the first place. And that the only way away from them was not to demonize them but just to keep choosing. As we feel less fearful about what we do for work, how our credentials look to a possible employer, how we look, etc. they just fall away. Or we can go straight there right now. Though we may not understand it as well as we’d like—we are in charge of ourselves. That goes for businessmen and soccer moms as well as artists and protesters. You are in charge of your life.

And what we do want may be as varied and diverse as we are as people. (Although my sneaking suspicion is that it’s pretty darn simple.) I’m throwing my vote in with those who think that we were made in god’s image. What I take from that is that we are primarily creative beings and not primarily consumptive beings. I think it’s our repressed desires that lead us to consume and destroy, and although there may be a blip of consumption as we turn around, we will quickly find that the route to love includes much greater priority for relaxation, making love, playing with children and singing than it does for shopping, watching TV, drinking beer and the like. That’s what I want to do.

And ps: if anyone knows the light-skinned woman in the current “Dream On” videos (for Pontiac?), please tell her there’s an envelope from Publisher’s Clearinghouse addressed to her on my front table.

Zoom, zoom.

A $120 Book, a $40 Cd

One other point on the creation of more loving goods, services and content is that mass market goods will become much more price differentiated. This is crucial for the growth of the quantum economy.

As it stands, a book, movie, cd or magazine is priced like any other book, movie, cd or magazine—based on the price it costs to produce and distribute the material part or the product. While this was appropriate during the material economy, it is becoming increasing irrational.

A prime rib at four different restaurants costs four different prices—from $12 to $50. There is no reason why a cd from four different artists all cost $14.99. Especially when three of them are disposable.

Once artists begin including a critical mass of love—as discussed in the previous post—in their creations, they will demand their due. There is no reason why a real musician would compete with the bubble gum variety.

Similarly, there is no reason that someone who writes an open, honest, revealing book would not charge four times what an ironic hipster’s novel would cost. There are simply too many mature, intelligent, wealthy people sitting home on a Saturday night because there is no movie that interests them. This is not because art is dead—or that nothing can reach them. This is because no one in their age group has seen it fit to charge what a real movie that reached this niche would cost to be profitable.

Even given this limitation there are fantastic examples of growing maturity, complexity, simplicity, and love in film. The cost of producing and distributing a movie (or book or cd) has come down, which has gotten us part way. The rest of the equation is raising the price on quality content to provide an incentive for artists to undergo significant growth between projects and take significant emotional risks. Love takes both time and money to grow.

The Missing Link

Okay. We’ve been having fun so far but what about the facts?

I had a great Christmas and for whatever reason (maybe my mouth) commerce and creativity kept coming up.

I had the opportunity to sit next to a very nice man named Bob (his real name) on Sunday night at a party celebrating my brother and his fiancee’s engagement.

Bob was great—not only is he an experienced organizational/management consultant and coach but he also refused to give in or be dazzled by a single one of my arguments. Which kept me going of course. He very astutely brought up point after point to see if my musings about such a rosy future for both love and commerce held water. And in doing so we got too a great point that I don’t think I’ve gotten to here yet.

So off to the races.

After I had done all the dancing I could do—and made a claim that there’s no reason there aren’t 600 practicing van Goghs currently practicing—he calmly noticed that we have a higher percentage of people involved in creativity than perhaps any culture in the history of the world. Surely if there were some impending cultural revolution the paintings (or music, film, etc) would be out there.

Ah yes, I said. And commended him on his astute reasoning. This is a place my reasoning rarely gets—few people are either interested long enough or remain critically skeptical long enough to get around to it. It is also a bit of a delicate subject.

My background is in the counterculture so let me start this by saying that I think it has done as much for our society in 40 years as perhaps commerce has done in the previous 200. It has truly allowed us in many ways to be free.

However, it is of limited use and will soon be gone.

The reason that there aren’t 600 van Goghs currently practicing is that the vast majority or talented practicing artists are in some essential way, shape or form tied to the counter-culture. As such, they believe that a primary purpose of art is to reflect society—and specifically, to reflect that in society which is deemed unjust. They believe art is less important than politics.

Responding to this belief they produce art that is against what they understand as the mainstream economy and culture. In many ways they believe they are at war, which they may be.

I told Bob that however much the stereotypical mainstream businessperson may dislike stereotypical mainstream rap, their ethics are almost identical. They both believe in a rugged independence and ruthless competition.

But rap isn’t even really part of the counterculture (god bless American black culture for constantly providing us with a third way despite all the odds). The real counterculture would be more like so-called conscious rap—which spends much of its time talking about what is wrong with other, more mainstream, rappers. The problem with this is that the artists engaged in critique—be they punk rockers, conscious rappers, avant guard bourgeois shocking painters, or hippies—is that the primary focus of their love—of their being—is in protecting themselves from a perceived threat and trying to get others to change. Which isn’t very lovely.

So while this countercultural activity may look distinct from the mainstream, rational, perspective on the surface, it is actually very similar. It is primarily interested in critique and criticism instead of creation and vulnerability. It is no coincidence that the far left often dislikes religion and that many people see one of Kerry’s largest weaknesses in relationship to Bush as his inability to convey his faith.

So, when Bob said that we were dripping with artists, I agreed. But also pointed out that very very few, if any, were creating what they want. And that for the resistance of the market to purchase the high-quality, high_touch creative goods, services and content it truly wants; the creators of said items will have to drop their antagonistic pose and show the vulnerability and love that will make their products valuable.

My example (as often) was van Gogh—though he was often forced to choose between food and paint—or food and a model for the day—he never once (from what I can see) allowed that conflict to enter his work on a root level. He did paint potato eaters, but he did so lovingly—even though the painting is dark and somewhat quiet.

He never confused his material conditions on the planet with god’s will. He never blamed god—or even other people. He was grateful for the opportunity to see and live—and although he had serious problems toward the end of his life—he fought daily to believe and take complete responsibility for his life and creation. In doing so he made himself a king.

And this is the somewhat ominous situation we find ourselves in 100 years later. With the key to the kingdom reliant upon a leap of faith. With all the riches of both the spiritual and material world hidden in plain sight—for those who can find the courage and conviction—the faith—to go first. You will be our leaders into a new world.

Don’t remember that van Gogh shot himself. Remember that if he would have just chilled for 10 years his paintings would have started selling. Remember that Picasso made bank, as did Basquiat, Cobain, Bukowski and a whole lot of others.

Remember that our culture moves so fast now that the trick is not to wait but to be able to withstand the onslaught of love and confused, starved adoration. To go slow enough that you can be who and how you want once the borderline insane media comes knocking. There is no love that goes unrewarded. We simply must grow artists strong enough (and relaxed enough) to master our new power tools.

For the material and spiritual to meet in a loving quantum economy, artists must take the first step. A worldwide shipping empire is nothing to the next Walt Whitman—even from an economic point of view. If you study the economy closely enough I think you will find that most the coming growth is in creativity and love. The unknown.

You want to paint for a reason. But reason tells you you’re wasting time. That’s not true. And while you will have to feed yourself somehow, the true test is in believing harder—feeling more comfortable in more perilous conditions. Having faith—believing for no reason. Believing despite reason. Which is all we want anyway.

If I can hazard a guess I’d say that once you can feel the way you want, you’ll produce the products you want without much sweat.

Whoops, There Goes Another Rubber Tree..

Stay with me ‘cause I’m out on a limb here.

In my opinion a large number of society’s ills can be traced to the material world’s intolerance for vulnerability. And again I’ll state that I have no qualms with the material perspective—in fact I’m grateful for it (it having allowed me to both eat this morning and to sit here typing on this beautiful computer to reach y’all)—I just don’t think it’s enough to base an entire society, world, or life upon.

The dominant method of the material world is control, or negative discipline. These are loaded terms, I know—please e-mail me if you know of better ones I could use.

Negative discipline is getting rid of that which you don’t want—in the hopes that all that’s left will be that which is acceptable. It is primarily effective in the world of things and action. (In contrast, what I would call positive discipline is a focus that goes straight for what it wants—accepting the warts, missteps, etc. along the way. I would suggest that this is primarily effective in the spiritual world—with ideas, emotions, and states of being. Simply put: a misplaced note in a jazz club means something much different than a misplaced scalpel in an operating room.

While control or negative discipline has yielded enormous results for us materially (what we have traditionally needed most), it has become the guiding principle by which we order our society. And also has become so effective and prevalent that it is essentially less desirable.

We have professionalized goods and services and even art. As we strive to get promotions or new jobs (or create careers) we apply negative discipline to ourselves in order to be worthy of creating and providing high quality goods and services. We have created entire organizational models based upon negative discipline. Schools, prisons, medicine, business, museums, and even the non-profit and social service world primarily operate using this model. It demands timely results and looks skeptically at play, relaxation, personal expression and emotion.

Then we try to go home and live a full life after work and on the weekends.

But that’s not my point (well maybe part of it). My point is that our institutions are operating at a fraction of their possible capacity. In fact, I would assert that, as Thomas Kuhn’s The Structure of Scientific Revolutions alludes to, much more of the growth, profit, and effectiveness in these institutions in due to those not afraid to assert their individuality, creativity, emotion, etc. Again, I love the efficiency with which negative discipline replicates and delivers established ideas. I owe my very livelihood to it. That does not mean, however, that in the quantity it is found in our society today it is not toxic. I believe it absolutely is.

And imagine what would be possible in a system that effectively harnessed both negative and positive discipline—that both knew exactly what it wanted and how to produce and deliver it. One that added values to the question of value.

And all this comes back to vulnerability (and I give props to the great Eben Eldridge for repeatedly and doggedly inserting this knowledge—in both word and deed—into my world).

If the material world tries to eliminate vulnerability, the spiritual world is useless without it. There is no creation, no love, no relationship, no beauty without vulnerability—and sustained vulnerability at that.

This is one of the primary reasons that so many adults are dissatisfied with the state of American culture at the current time—there’s almost no love in it. Different pieces may contain sexuality, or sadness, or anger, or hope—or almost anything—but there is often a missing middle. This middle is vulnerability.

This missing middle is the mistake, the unmediated blurb, the funky and kind of weird truth. The thing that doesn’t make immediate sense (or even any sense). This middle is the Oprah who loses it and goes ballistic. The rapper who admits he’s tired and goes on sabbatical instead of fighting on. The expert or guru who says “I don’t know”. The executive who brushes off an expensive gaffe. The writer who details exactly the life that he or she wants—for herself—instead of more cleverly exposing the faults and shortcomings of others.

And there is some vulnerability. Life wouldn’t survive without it. But to my eye it exists at a feeble level—especially among adults. Most good art, inventions, stories of healing, and even productive and interesting people have faced and found a way to include what they can. But these activities are often withheld from view or hidden. People develop a gut and/or courage in private and then emerge with considerable skin, or ego, to use what they’ve learned publicly. And they’re very smart, so many people are so hungry for vulnerability—for a way to know and love others—that when someone does open up, instead of being grateful, they rip at the opening, starved for more.

But my point is that our institutions—which have become more and more pervasive—have come to work against us. In a sense, we rely upon them to provide our living and they sap our ability to enjoy that life at the same time.

And the trick is that you can’t learn this inside any institution. Even self-help gurus guide you back to them—ask you to accept their language and way of seeing the world. (This is a great place to remind you that I do this too. And mention that I am not right—even if I may sound it. I may get close sometimes—and I’m right for me—and I’ll fight for my ideas to the bitter end—and feel free to steal and use them—but don’t quote me. Take over ownership if there’s something you deem of value. Ownership is responsibility. And responsibility begets vulnerability.)

So—back to the subject at hand.

What I believe is needed more than anything in our society is vulnerability—in thought word and deed. We can facilitate this by not only doing it but paying handsomely for anything of merit that we deem has really gone to the mat. Not just with a single aspect of vulnerability but displaying a range of emotion. One of the reasons I believe Tupac and Biggie two of the greatest rappers is that they both found a way to talk about the world, themselves, their family, their fears, and what they wanted from life. Tupac could be brutal, funny and turn around and tell his mama that she was appreciated. The artists of the future will do this all in one song. Or even one line.

There are also many, many ways to build vulnerability into institutions and processes. One key is to strive for acceptance instead of tolerance and reward support instead of concern. This will have enormous impacts on not only how we do business but how rich and full our lives are.

A quick note: The trick, I would suggest, is not to jump into vulnerability like it’s the new black. This is not a trend or a boat that anyone’s going to miss. Try a little out. See how it feels. It’s not appropriate at all time or in all circumstances. But I think you’ll find, that by going first—by creating the exact world and way in which you want to live—you’ll become a magnet for that part in others that wants the same thing. Not everyone will join in—and certainly not immediately—but we’re all learning too. Test the waters a bit. Throw some fun in somewhere. It works. I promise. (Whoops—guaranteeing results—vulnerability in danger! : ) )

I’m off to get contacts.

The Future of the Future

Boy—I musta been holding it in for a minute, ‘cause give a brother a soapbox and he’s ready to gi-zo. Remind me to let it flow in the future.

And about the future—I realized I just teased a touch about it in the last post so I’ll tickle it up here for a minute.

The future I see is beautiful.

The emergence of a spiritual emphasis for our culture has enormous implications. And while in the short term it may lead to more yoga teachers and self-help gurus (god bless them), eventually it will lead to artists, artists, artists and more artists.

Or maybe I should put that another way—although this may lead in the short-term to yoga teachers and gurus who are artists, eventually it will lead to artists who are (or are as) yoga teachers and self-help gurus. As I would trade a year of yoga for two hours with a fully realized artist (as opposed to the tortured, drunk, withdrawn kind we seem to enjoy making movies about), I find this distinction extremely preferable.

It will also have the additional byproduct of a worldwide, modern, mature, vital, fun, ecstatic culture—with new dances, songs, paintings, web sites, conceptual pieces, recipes, ways to raise a family, methods of worship, and places to hang out and meet people. It will produce better clothes, more loving television, more interesting movies, more inspired magazines, more loving cities, more relaxed workplaces, more environmentally-friendly buildings and products, and stronger and more interdependent communities for all of us.

That’s my assertion. And I’m willing to live or die by it.

With the material world being mastered more easily, employing fewer people and comprising a diminishing return on investment for businesses, spiritual and creative values are becoming pre-eminent in our society. The largest success stories are: Apple’s Ipod (creative product encouraging creative use of others creativity), Whole Foods (bringing spiritual values to the creation and distribution of our most important material produce), Google (democratizing the flow of information using the market mechanism), Oprah (love to daytime TV), The Purpose Driven Life (haven’t read anything but the title), and Kanye West (a song called “Jesus Walks” on national radio!).

Other similar, though possibly less obvious successes are: the rise of Yoga, Pilates, etc.; the Wellness movement; Extreme Makeover Home Edition; The Passion of Christ (subject if not execution); and smaller, growing businesses like Potbelly Sandwiches (a fun Subway), American Apparel (a loving and lovely “sweatshop” in LA), and Julius Meinl (Starbucks with an actual culture).

Still more: the rise of reality TV (eventually they’ll make the real real), a decreasing murder rate nation-wide, the rise of luxury goods (trust me for a minute on this one), the emergence of hybrid cars, growth of international interfaith movements, social entrepreneurs, fall of the Berlin Wall, capitalism in China, recall of the Ukrainian vote, etc, etc.

While some people obviously see these as nothing more than aspects of a new fashion—or even worse, of crass marketing ploys—they are in my opinion the direct outcome (and first real and big flowers) of years of cultural and economic development. I believe these are all powerful examples of an emerging spiritual economy and culture: one that values creativity, freedom, inspiration, beauty, abundance, sharing, and interconnectedness—love—over all else. It has come only once we could afford it but that’s no reason, in my opinion, to disbelieve its arrival.

This culture is growing worldwide. And, as it grows at the speed of inspiration and ideas (as opposed to the material world that moves at the speed of bricks and mortar) I believe that it is fair to say that this emerging spiritual culture is growing exponentially where previously cultures grew multiplicatively.

In a very real sense, we have spent the past two millennium creating a system of production and delivery. We always told ourselves that we were sacrificing for a better life for our children and now here we are—with the world that we’ve built all but killing our children as it tries to increase the competitive pressure that has yielded (material) results for so long.

The world we are standing in front of, staring into the void for, is one where we can live as those children that life was always lived in the service of—one where we can enjoy a spiritual yield our whole lives. If we let ourselves, that is.

It will not be a regression into childhood but a life where we live and provide for ourselves as adults and enjoy and create with the tender vulnerability and peace of mind of a protected child. (Allowing us to avoid a second childhood). Eventually we’ll be able to blend and mix as we see fit. A good example of this would be a modern artist/producer/businessman or woman like Dr. Dre, Ice Cube, Beyonce, Eminem, etc.

Eventually there will be artists with not only the street smarts, artistic talent, and energy of these four but also the quietude of buddhist monks, the daily impact of a Oprah, the spiritual insight of a griot, lasting relationships, and the playfulness of a five-year old on Christmas. (Which is not to say that any of these artists lack any of these attributes—I have no way of knowing--my point is that there will be art that deals more explicitly with and displays more concretely a knowledge of these topics).

Where we are now, as Funkadelic so presciently informed us, is “Standing on the Verge of Getting It On”! And for the first time in history we can see a time when we not only buy and consume that which we want but also work doing that which we love to make the money in the first place.

But there is a massive relaxation that must take place before this is the norm. An individualization of our individualism. One that allows for growth, maturity, love, and beauty as well as spontaneity, youthful vigor, independence and grit. A massive slowing, breathing, deepening, and widening. The generation of a ridiculous faith.

We have started to make the culture and world we’ve always dreamed of—have started to become the people our ancestors have sacrificed for—but there’s lots and lots more to do. In a very real sense we must become three dimensional adults before we can raise three dimensional kids. It can happen in a second or it can take ten years.

I believe that nothing we have ever done will be as worth it.

Eventually, I believe that this delivery system we’ve built will be used to broadcast and enjoy loving content and culture worldwide. That we’ll listen to unheard voices and speak with new dignity. We will turn even more of our attention from the producers of the systems to the generators of the content. (And more from the generators of childish content to the producers of mature content). Quite literally, a smile on a dusty road somewhere in Africa will become as more valuable than a pair of fake breasts in Hollywood as it already is. And a pair or real breasts in Africa—well I won’t go there quite yet.


Love,

Eben

Start Here—a bit of background for my fellow love artists

As I’m just off and starting, I suppose I should give folks a little framework about what I’m talking about. Not because I think anyone needs it but it might be fun just to be a bit specific about my groundwork.

For one—I am not an expert, guru, or your momma (or your daddy for that matter). I am an amateur—and an amateur amateur at that. I believe that this makes my viewpoint more valuable (I believe everything I do makes me more valuable—otherwise why would I do it?) but am more than open to competing notions about knowledge. I will also go to the mat for my ideas—they all have serious evidence, experience and intention behind them.

What I believe is that we are in the midst of a worldwide shift between two essentially different ways of seeing the world. The first is the material—the what and when, the tangible, the quantifiable, the concrete, the rational—and the other is what I call the spiritual—the creative, the how and why, the intangible, the qualitative, the abstract, the intuitive. The first paradigm isn’t going anywhere but it sure is receding—it’s methods are becoming outdated (and in many instances toxic).

The emerging world, I believe, emphasizes our spiritual side. We will always be rooted in the material world but it will increasingly be a foundation upon which an elaborate and beautiful spiritual mansion is built. In this sense it may be more accurate to say not that we are going from one world to another but that we are coming from a material emphasis into a spiritual emphasis.

The culture that will get us through, as I see it, is what I call a quantum culture—that is one which can act using primarily material or spiritual values as it sees fit. As we will operate within two worlds for the foreseeable future, the values from which we act and that we employ to make decisions upon will need to contain attributes of both the material world and the spiritual. (Note: this is similar, I think, to the second attention that many spiritual traditions speak of).

Discernment between the two sets of values is a key attribute of the quantum culture.

A example of this would be walking down the street and seeing a homeless person asking for spare change. (I am constantly amazed at the beauty and specificity of our world—a person who wants nothing more than to be changed asking if passersby have any they could spare. They reply with both the means to change—money—and the method—by ignoring him and letting him know that he can survive without handouts).

In the material world if you wanted to help this person you would give them money. If you wanted to help yourself (in a very strict material world sense), you would ignore them—keeping your money for yourself.

In a strictly spiritual world you might always give them money—both to help them and help yourself.

But in a quantum world you do whatever you feel like. You give them money if so moved and ignore them if so moved. You base your decisions on material values if necessary (if you’re broke) and on spiritual values whenever possible (if you’ve got money, time, desire—are un-broke).

You do what you feel.

If they appear drunk or like they can’t be so easily helped you walk by without a second thought. If you decide that it’ll be fun to see their response (even if they’re drunk) you may give them money anyway. The quantum viewpoint acknowledges that both ways are love and that the only path to truth is the existence of both and the freedom to choose in the moment.

I know at first glance this may seem a bit touchy-feely to some, and as such, a bit dangerous to base business decisions upon, but I assure you that I’ve experimented broadly—and conducted both material and spiritual tests. Our emotions are indeed the bridge between the material and the spiritual world—and they are as predictable as popcorn.

As such, they’re really the only thing we can completely rely upon.

Ruthless Spiritual Competition

Also hung in my craw this a.m. is the notion of Spiritual Competition.

A lot of business folks are talking about the importance of design these days—and they’re right to a point but I think they miss the larger point. It’s not design—it’s love.

First off, mechanical soundness is the cornerstone of any product or service—does it work as it should? Anyone who thinks they are going to design their way to greatness is seriously mistaken (just ask Aztek owners). The form is always first—otherwise it’s fashion and is on it’s way out with increasingly speedy regularity.

With that said—the beauty of a product or service offering (or content) is a great indication of its love-liness. Love often finds us with visual harmony. And if beauty and/or harmony is a choice—those knowing more about love would probably take it. (To my mind).

But there are numerous kinds of love and the eyes know some of them but not all. There are some kinds of love that are visually repulsive—caring for a leper for instance. While business goes out and learns about love (and I’m ecstatic it is) it is important to remember that there are many, many ways to excel at delivering the love (inspiration if that word works better for you) that all people ultimately want—in their business dealings as well as their personal life.

Design, as I see it, is just as far as the material viewpoint can go without learning a new language. Design is something it can still compete at and win. Love may seem amorphous.

But as we involve “intangibles” such as love in the process of commerce it is important to realize that love operates on the principle of value as well. And as such, must have an element of competition.

The competition of spirit is different, however than the competition of the material world. Spirit (or love or creativity) wants the fullest possible representation of the world—the most beautiful, the most true, the most essential. The one that brings the most joy or inspiration to the most people for the longest time. This looks a bit different than material competition which focuses on bringing the most comfort or safety (often to an individual). And can also be very beautiful.

Spirit does compete, however. Fiercely.

But it’s tools are significantly broader than those that compete in a purely material framework. Spirit uses rest and relaxation as often as it uses hard work, it uses peace as often (or more often) than it uses war. And although it has no interest in manipulation or deception, it takes huge quarter to ignore all which it dislikes.

Oh yes, it dislikes! It dislikes a lot. It doesn’t dis-love, but it sure as hell dislikes. The spiritual knows love so completely that it knows that encouraging or even responding certain behavior leads to less love. So it does the most loving and expedient thing possible—it ignores it. A great example of this would be ignoring a child’s temper tantrum—knowing that it will bring about its end sooner. (I wonder how many of the world’s problems could be ameliorated this way?)

To me the greatest lesson of the material world was the power and strength of conditional love—we have all been put to the test—and have all learned that there is much, much more inside of us than we ever dreamed as a result (people—or god—ignoring you will have that effect). We were forced to draw upon every idea, tool and ounce of effort we could to survive.

But as the insecurity of the material world subsides (and don’t let your brain trick you into greater insecurity in an increasingly safe world), the emerging spiritual world has a significantly different message for us: that the true way—and a higher way—is one of unconditional love. Of course we don’t think it works yet, we’re still meditating on the results the material system brought us. But it’s what we want. What we’ve always wanted.

And it works better than anything we’ve ever known.

Let's Hear It for the Purple

Yes, yes, yes.

Barack on the cover of Newsweek and purple. That is the future. Or the future of the present. The third way is together—mixing and matching. Going deeper instead of farther. And that’s the whole thing.

I got a chance to meet Barack working for his campaign last fall. Personable in person as well. He’s got an ego but seems to know it and have mechanisms to keep it in check. As we’re in transition and will have to fight our way through the material world to get into the spiritual this may be a common theme for the immediate future (I know it is with me). In one sense your ego is the only thing that gets you through to a belief deeper than “us or them”, “left or right”—but as soon as you arrive and get strong it’s no longer of much use.

Also—from Chicago. The only thing I’ll say about that is that when I decided to move a few years back I looked at NYC, SF/Oakland, LA, and was living in Seattle. There’s something going on in Chicago. We’re deep right now but as the Boston curse has been broken it’s only a matter of time before our does. And the deeper the curse, the greater the possibilities. It’s not in the middle for nothing.

Also in Newsweek (I don’t go far for my outside information) is Fareed Zakaria’s excellent piece on “Good News from the Arab World”—finally someone seeing the forest for the trees. The overwhelming evidence from the last 200 (or 2000) years is towards personal freedom, autonomy, and democracy—even in the middle east. I don’t understand why so many choose to focus so adamantly on the worst news they can find in the whole world. The sunbeam that just topped my keypad is as true as the whole morning paper. Maybe more so—it’s a primary source.

All the love in the world,

Eben

Back in the Saddle

Cool--cause I don't get upset / I kick a hole in the speaker / Pull the plug / Then I jet..

--Eric B. & Rakim

My brothers and sisters,
A long time it has been since I stepped up to the mic. A few of you will remember the halcyon days in Sea-Town. Shooting from the hip. Staring down the man.

Well, I feel like I don’t even know that person anymore—but rest assured that the same driver is still at the controls. I think it was the extraneous debris that got burned away upon re-entry.

I still have the same vision though. And it dogs me night and day. I see a world of global cottage industry. Of couture and thrift stores co-existing simultaneously—and valuably. I see an economy growing at full speed—expanding exponentially as the world’s most creative ideas co-mingle as their thinkers take a much needed nap.

I see business that goes deep instead of fast and far. I see consumers that demand essence—the positive vibrations that a whole bunch of musicians were talking about on a small island named Jamaica thirty years ago. And our top scientists are just getting back to today.

I see love and money. Money and love.

I see an emerging global class of artists unified around the creation of a modern ecstatic culture. I see people working fervently to expand the top of the pyramid. I see the pyramid inverting itself.

I see a new vulnerability. Kanye talking about “Jesus Walks”, Cam’ Ron insisting on pink. I see a new transparency—one that is grounded in both belief and questioning. A new humility—one that’s not soft. A new strength. A new way that accepts everything and does its damnest to create that in which it wants to live.

One that takes complete responsibility for both the moment and the future.

I see a new generation of leaders talking in new ways with new words.

And it’s not based on a dream—though that’s where it started. I read it in the management tomes of Peter Drucker. See it on the cover of Newsweek with ridiculous regularity. It’s being built down the street from my house.

It’s as if everyone believes but no one believes that anyone else believes.

And so we all end up staring at disbelief. Even as it evaporates from the globe.

Love what you love and ignore the rest. Ignore it as if your life depended upon it.

Love what you love.

Thanks for being patient with White G.


Love,

Eben

Testing, testing

Testing, testing, 1, 2,3 testing..