Suppose somebody wants to make a movie about you. Sounds great, doesn’t it? Except what happens when you realize your life’s so boring it makes for a pretty bad movie? A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life is the true story of how that happens to best-selling author Donald Miller, and what he does to re-write his life into a better story.
Miller is a beautiful writer. The first few chapters had me thinking he was a little whimsical, but his poetry builds into a tour de force deeper into the book. A Million Miles in a Thousand Years is a story about stories; what stories are, how they affect us, how we all live stories, how to live a better story, and how better life stories make for better characters. With raw honesty and wit, he tells us the story of his own journey to create a story-worthy life, using the principles of good story-telling to guide him.
This post is for a friend whom I know has great stuff to share and just needs to write it all down. I hope it helps. Get your book out already, dude!
1. The Ultimate Secret to Writing
The ultimate secret to writing is the one that most people don’t seem to want to hear. And it’s simply this: keep working your ass off.
Are there freak geniuses that wake up in the morning, eyes blazing with divine inspiration who knock out thousands of pages before breakfast? Maybe, but I’m not one of them. I have to sit my ass down and sweat words before they even look halfway decent, writing even when I don’t feel like writing and churning paragraphs of rubbish. It’s hard.
You know you’re in trouble when the life coaching you went to get over your issues and get things done only uncovers more issues, which unfortunately, requires even more life coaching sessions, but damn, lucky for you, there’s an upgrade package which will help you shave hundreds off the thousands you now need to cough up.
You know, so you can go get things done.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you What The Fuck Life Coaching™, a revolutionary breakthrough in recursive navel-gazing and vertical up-selling.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m good for meditative retreats, contemplative afternoons and friends telling me when I’m being a dumb-ass. (Did I say good? I navel-gazed for 10 days in meditative silence!)
Inner game is what enables you to act. Nothing less, nothing more.
The Longer Answer
Timothy Gallwey first coined the term ‘inner game’ in his book The Inner Game of Tennis: The Classic Guide to the Mental Side of Peak Performance. He wrote that “every game is composed of two parts, an outer game and an inner game”; where the outer game is fought against another opponent and the inner game is fought against your own inner doubts and fears.
As an ex-personal development coach, I met people who wanted to improve their inner game so they could finally get what they wanted in life. Problem was these people became so obsessed with getting their inner game tight, they believed that they had to get it perfect before they could get anything done. And so they got nothing done, all the while working hard on their ‘inner game’. Did I say I met? Heck, I was one of these people!
I pushed myself to take better photos while I was in Tokyo recently; shooting in the rain while my friends were enjoying hot coffee indoors, bruising my feet walking round the streets and overcoming my fears to shoot complete strangers. I wanted to do better than I did in 2008, where I shot mostly buildings on a Tadao Ando pilgrimage. I wanted to capture a sense of life in Tokyo, and infuse my photos with a sense of story. I’m not sure if I succeeded, but I learned a few lessons from the experience. So if you will, here are lessons learned from the adventures of a hobbyist photographer.
2009 was interesting.
Got to know 2 large German Shepards up close and personal. Very protective, vicious to strangers, but loving and lovable to family. Flew up and down in a speed-boat in the open sea early in the morning, slept too little the night before but wide awake with adrenalin in the moment. Got to shoot more, and with more cameras. Shot real handguns for the first time, didn’t aim as well as I’d imagined. Donned full body armor and went at it full speed, full force with a resisting opponent, threw out most of my ideas about martial arts training. Wrote thousands of words, sitting at a desk, sometimes bored to death, sometimes jazzed beyond words. Certified first aider, at least on paper. Joined Crossfit Singapore for a few sessions and never moved so hard in my entire life. Cooked a few new dishes. Ate more organic food than ever before. Shot over 6000 photos during 6 days in Tokyo, autumn. Drank coffee in the afternoon sun at the edge of a Japanese cemetery. Made beautiful things. Did yoga by the sea in the late evening and watched two shooting stars go by. Grew and deepened a relationship, the best gift in my year and life.
Concluding Parts 1, 2, 3 & 4 of a recent photographic trip to Tokyo, Japan.
I visited the 21_21 Design Sight museum this morning, and was lucky to catch The Outline, an exhibit about the work of product designer Naoto Fukasawa. I’m a fan of his work and really enjoyed looking at the flowing, organic shapes of his designs.
I love Tadao Ando’s architecture as well, and looking at the 21_21 museum he designed, I thought it would be a lovely thing to shoot in the evening light, but alas I was there at noon and nothing worked. It wasn’t all wasted though, as I managed to catch these autumn leaves behind the museum, my first in Tokyo. Even though I visited Tokyo in late November and everyone was telling me how beautiful the autumn leaves were going to be, I hardly saw any (the Japanese were also telling me how unusual it was raining so often – global warming, I’m looking at you).
Continuing Parts 1, 2 & 3 of a recent photographic trip to Tokyo, Japan.
A friend brought me to Meiji Shrine, where I was very lucky to witness a traditional Japanese wedding. I was also very lucky to borrow her lens, the EXIF data says this shot was taken at 300mm and I could never have pulled it off with the 7D kit lens. Japanese weddings seemed to be very somber; they were posing very seriously for their group photograph and I had to wait just to see the bride smile.
Another stroke of luck; I happened to be in Japan right in time for the ‘7-5-3′ Festival, something I’d never even heard of before. My friend explained to me that it was a annual festival where parents will dress up their 3 and 7 year-old girls, and 3 and 5 year-old boys, in traditional kimono and bring them to the shrines for prayers, which meant lots of cute pictures.
