Dave Caolo

I recently re-watched the PBS documentary on the life of the Buddha and was reminded of a powerful practice. Poet Jane Hirshfield discusses The Buddha’s first attempt to teach after gaining enlightenment. He meets a wandering ascetic who asks Buddha, “Who is your guru?” Buddha explains that he has no guru, that he has attained enlightenment on his own. Thoroughly unimpressed, the ascetic walks away.

On his first attempt at teaching, The Buddha had failed.

Jane says:

“Buddha meets someone who doesn’t see anything special about him because the awakened Buddha doesn’t look any different from anybody else. He is ordinary. Buddhism is not about being special. Buddhism is about being ordinary. And it is not about the continual exudation of bliss. It is about walking a normal human life with normal human beings, doing normal human things.”

“And this reminds you that you yourself might be a Buddha. At this moment, the person you’re looking at might be one. It’s an interesting practice. Just each person you see as you walk down the street; ‘Buddha? Buddha? Buddha? Buddha? Buddha?’”

It is interesting, and I do it all the time. Even if the whole Buddhism thing isn’t for you, look at the people you encounter each day, mindful of their true nature, their inherit goodness. Quietly ask that nugget of goodness, “Are you in there? Are you there? Are you there?”

You will see it. In each person, you will see it.

I’ve no doubt that Twitter is making me dumber. Reading tweet after tweet is like a 90 minute car ride with someone who’s just slammed an 8 ball, bouncing between completely unrelated thoughts, ideas, conversations, suggestions, requests, etc. in a matter of seconds. There’s no time to give anything a moment’s contemplation. For example, here are the most recent 12 tweets from my stream as I write this (authors have not been identified):

1. @shelitwits I knew the answer to that one!
2. Beer break after assembling too much office furniture.
3. RT @baixakioficial Mito ou verdade: Macs não servem para jogos? http://bit.ly/duelBe
4. RT @yummygoods: want a copy of my book? want to read about  random stuff? i have just the post for you: http://bit.ly/bT763W
5. So, it might be who I follow, but MY view via the Tweets app is really noisy. cc @MarioSundar . Others might have a better shot.
6. #Opensource #HIT data exchange: “Anyone can see it at http://NHITconnect.org”-CTO Chopra http://twitpic.com/1r29uy #g2e #gov20
7. Computer model shows Earth’s mantle is speeding http://is.gd/coIG5
8. Hey the American Library Association was just an answer/question (whatever!) on Jeopardy!
9. #Opensource #HIT data exchange: “Anyone can see it at http://NHINconnect.org”-CTO Chopra http://twitpic.com/1r29uy #g2e #gov20
10. One less, for now:  One of the five wind turbines proposed for private property in South Plymouth m… http://bit.ly/bJ2hNj
11. So, if I want to share about an Internet Marketing community with LinkedIn, I just do -  http://bit.ly/cCSW1L  #in ?
12. ME! RT @TheChip Guess who’s coming to #Sturgis Buffalo Chip for his next Big Adventure?

Breaking it down:

Tweets 1, 2 and 5 are partial conversations that I’ve missed. Therefore, they’re just clutter. Number 2 is a pleasantry that has no bearing on my day. Number 3 is in a language I don’t understand. Numbers 4, 11 and 12 are sales pitches.  I honestly don’t know what numbers 6 and 9 are about; I assume the author is attending a convention or workshop.

Numbers 7, 8 and 10 are interesting and I’d like to follow up on them, but they’re lost in the noise. Plus, by the time I get to wind turbines, I’ve forgotten about the Earth’s mantle and 20 more tweets have arrived, demanding attention.

This phenomenon isn’t unique to Twitter. Facebook also offers Information McNuggets. Instapaper makes me feel good momentarily, but I know that I’ll probably not read that article I saved in a timely manner. Days later, I’ll sync Instapaper on my iPad and remember, “Oh, yeah. I wanted to read this the other day. And these six others.”

Social media allows people to reach out and distract each other. The immediacy of the Internet is a benefit and a hindrance, reducing thoughts and stories to virtual Tic Tacs that we mindlessly pop into our mouths. By all means connect to those who interest you and share what you’ve got. But also take time to stop, reflect and think. Or you’ll end up dumber.

Like me.

Who says you can only do these posts on New Year’s Day? I had a lot of fun in 2009. In January, I …

got my daughter a dress from China,

visited Valley Forge, PA,

did some tubing at Coco Key

and hung a doll from a hook in a bathroom.

In February, I …

saw a Naboo fighter

and brought the boy to my favorite city in the world, Boston, MA.

In March, I …

made this bitchin’ Star Wars cake

and showed the kids how cool guns are.

In April, I …

considered ditching the kids at IKEA

and went to a Red Sox game.

In May, I …

saw a mishoon being made

and saw a sheep get sheared.

In June, I …

visited New York City,

visited Paris, France,

saw famous art

and watched a T-Ball game.

In July, I …

saw another Red Sox game,

met Mayor McCheese,

saw fireworks

and visited Oneida, NY.

In August, I …

saw a deer,

visited Scranton, PA (my other favorite city),

introduced the kids to water balloons,

went fishing,

saw another Red Sox game

and went geocaching.

In September, I …

buried my grandfather,

waved goodbye to my 1st grader,

played mini golf,

let this happen somehow,

guest-lectured at Harvard University

and watched a soccer game.

In October, I …

took the boy for a haircut,

saw a wet cranberry harvest,

watched a pig race,

went trick-or-treating

and spoke at Harvard again.

In November, I …

set up the Kids’ Table.

In December, I …

Visited Maine,

shoveled snow

and loved my kids.

My gratitude is overwhelming.

While doing some leisure reading online, I noticed that a blogger on the Fusion Ad Network explained a recent absence by saying that he had just finished up high school.

Hi. Yeah. I’m almost 40.

When I started blogging for TUAW, I thought, “Wow, I’m getting paid to write!” Calling myself a “writer” at that point would have been like a hummingbird calling itself a space shuttle. I mean, they both can fly, but one produces 1,315 tons of thrust and can withstand temperatures of 1,650ºC.

The other entertains retirees from their kitchen windows.

I’ve been able to delude myself into believing that I deserve that title over the years. It started the 1st time someone called something I had written a “piece.” Much like a Lay-Z-Boy is a chair while an Eames Molded Plastic Rocker is a piece, the term elevated my 350-word re-working of a common and rather pedestrian opinion to something actually worth your time and attention. As the head swells, so does the pen and I wielded mine like a Louisville Slugger.

However, the act of typing doesn’t turn one into a writer any more than sleeping in a garage turns one into a car. It’s something you either have or you don’t. Like Rubella.

In “On Writing,” Stephen King notes that most decent writers can become good writers, but they won’t become great. So I’m at my desk, behind the keyboard, writing pieces.

Shooting for “good.”

My God, I’m one of those sappy tools.

It’s no secret that my family has been going through a tough time lately. One of the many by-products is Olympic-class stress levels. A couple of weeks ago I asked the hive mind for recommendations on stress reduction. I got lots of great answers but one stood out for me: Write down what you’re grateful for every day.

I know what you’re thinking: Why don’t you just hug a tree, wear a crystal, buy a copy of The Secret, drink soy milk, listen to George Winston and annoy every right-minded person in your life?

I thought the same thing.

Yet I grabbed one of my little notebooks and listed three things I’m glad to have:

1. Happy, healthy kids
2. A supportive, patient wife (more like a saint, actually. I’m VERY difficult to live with)
3. A clean, cozy, well-lit house

Obvious choices, but good ones. It felt kind of silly but after 2 weeks I’m totally into it. Again, I reject new-agey mumbo-jumbo. What’s at work here is the simple act of focusing on the good. No, the external situation hasn’t changed, but when you’re down in the foxhole all day dodging bullets and shrapnel, you get used to it. You revel in the low. You succumb to the inertia (a body at rest tends to stay at rest).

The battle still rages but at least the sky is blue and the sun is warm. And this, just like all the of the other shit sandwiches life has served you, will pass.

This is working spectacularly well, and I’m not even Ben Franklin. As you can see, I only missed one day this week. All of those black X’s are encouraging.

I added a “Notes” page for each month, where I list things that have helped achieve the goal, like pleasant music, preferred walking trails, etc.

I’ve noticed that it’s tempting to begin adding others right away. I found myself driving past the yoga place this week (that’s March’s goal). However, I know that sticking to one goal per month is crucial. Staring a second goal before the first one is achieved — and failing — would undermine the whole process. Slow and steady wins the race.

More on my 2010 goals here.

Every January I hand myself a list of unachievable goals. “Resolutions,” some call them. “Lose 20 pounds!” “Earn $100,000!” “Receive praise from [high profile blogger]!” Holy cow achieved!

Those goals, while admirable, are too huge. Not too huge to be unattainable, but they’ll require a running start.

This year, I’m taking a different approach. I’ve created one small goal to achieve each month. In January, it’s walk 30 minutes per day. In February, it’s meditate every day. As the year progresses, the previous month’s goal is carried over. So, in February I’ll be walking 30 minutes and meditating daily. As I’m enthused by the success of achieving the smaller goals, I’ll up the ante in the summer and fall by adding larger ones.

By December, I’ll have added 12 new positive habits to my life. That sounds pretty good to me.

January: Walk 30 minutes per day
February: Meditate daily (plus previous)
March: Practice yoga 1x per week (plus previous)
April: TBD
May: TBD
June: TBD
July: TBD
August: TBD
September: TBD
October: TBD
November: TBD
December: TBD

More on my 2010 goals here.

October 1, 2008 was my first day without a full time job since May 30th, 1994. Twelve months later I’m celebrating one year of generating my own work by thanking the people who have helped along the way.

Bev Ryle

More than anyone, Bev Ryle was crucial to my transition from having a job to generating work. Just weeks before our first meeting, my employer of 15 years announced that business would cease within six months. It only took two. More than 110 of us lost our jobs. I was in panic mode.

Bev taught me the difference between having a job and creating work, and how to simultaneously make a living and enjoy life. Even more than that, she gave me direction and confidence, and continues to act as my mentor. I recommend that anyone facing a similar transition get her book.

Leslie Fishlock of Genevate

After a few meetings with Bev, I thought I could make a run of blogging and helping others do the same. Around that time, I used Twitter to find other geeks on Cape Cod. Leslie was among the first people I met. She introduced me to others in the field, got my name out there and helped me make relationships that I’ve come to rely on today, all without provocation or personal gain. I’ll always appreciate her generosity.

Scott McNulty, Victor Agreda, Mike Rose, C.K. Sample III and Christina Warren

In short – my TUAW family,  past and present. First, C.K. for editing me ruthlessly way back when we were still owned by Jason. My writing improved tremendously under C.K.’s red pen.

Victor suggested that I fill the co-lead spot that Scott left, and I’ll be forever grateful. Scott’s direction was instrumental in making TUAW the leading source of Apple news that it is, and I was humbled to fill his shoes. Thanks to Vic for having confidence in me.

Mike and Christina have been tremendous co-workers. Mike’s thoughtful approach to the blog is a compliment to my knee-jerk impulsiveness, which I appreciate (like the time he edited my email address out of a screenshot. Thanks, Mike!). Christina’s enthusiasm for blogging helped me through all of those “what the hell do I think I’m doing?” moments. Yes, pro blogging is a legitimate way to make a living.

Chris Gillis of Saltline Studio

Not only is Chris a good friend, but his willingness to share his skills and knowledge with a newbie like me atypical. In a way we’re after the same clients on this small spit of sand, yet Chris is more than happy to share what he knows with me. In the past few months we’ve started working together to great mutual benefit.

Lynn at Mid-Cape Home Centers

For having the confidence to offer my services to her builders. I appreciate the business but also the trust in my skills.

Dave Fravel, Jim Hill, Cindy Coy, Tim Merril, Amanda Blum, Peter Cohen and all the Cape Cod nerds

Whether it’s a bitch session, professional support, paid gigs or an opportunity to hoist a few, the neighborhood geeks offer selfless support, and I appreciate it.

My family

Imagine this scenario: You’re got two kids under 7, two car payments and a mortgage. Your spouse unexpectedly became unemployed and after a bout of depression and then panic, announced that self-employment (during our country’s worst economic crisis since the Great Depression) was the answer.

That’s exactly what my wife agreed to.

Her support is the greatest thing in my life. Without her, I’d be living in a box in the park. I definitely married the right girl.

I’ve got some new things on the horizon that I’ll announce soon. For now, here’s a huge thank you to all of my friends. Watch for part 2 in October of 2010.

The first little person I ever met tried to sell me a T-shirt in Boston.

Having pushed passed the New England Conservatory students, noisy pizza joints and a one-armed pimp in a Members Only jacket (I assume he was the last member), I stood before 98 Hemenway Street. That beaten-down building, which would close a year later, was my freshman dorm at Berklee. John stood on the stoop. “What to buy a T-Shirt?” he said. It had obviously been silkscreened by hand. “Um, yeah,” I said.

I spent my first night alone, wearing my new shirt and watching David Letterman on a 13″ black-and-white TV. Actually, I only looked at the television. My mind was replaying the moment that I said goodbye to my parents at the Newbury Street Garage.

That was an astounding 20 years ago. Today I live on Cape Cod but my heart is in Boston. Whenever I visit, I take what my wife calls “The Nostalgia Tour.” We eat at Cappy’s, buy an iced tea from DeLuca’s (the only thing I could afford from that place in 1989), walk through The Fens and take the Green Line to Park Street.

We also visit the former site of Allson Beat on Newbury Street, in honor of John. He was what we used to call a “club kid” who lived the lifestyle 24/7. So we called him John Non-Stop. I think he lives in California today.

On Monday I’ll travel to Cambridge to talk about blogging. Though I was born and raised in Scranton, PA, visiting Boston always feels like a homecoming.

And I still have the T-shirt.

Getting older isn’t easy. You look back on your life and all the messy parts of it that you wish you could re-write.

And then you look down on your little child and you realize that you cannot possibly regret anything in the whole complicated chain of events that led to the existence of this child. And so, you turn to the future, which is where you should be looking anyway.