Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Vanilla Ice Cream, I don't need you after all...

You cannot force inspiration.  I mean, you can but it can be a bit discomfiting-at least for me.  This could be inspiration in anything: writing, choosing new shoes, in keeping life zesty, picking a movie to watch.  I am naturally a bit apprehensive and do not make decisions easily in this area (which is also partly why it has taken me so long to choose some semblance of a major). 
           This takes me back to the momentous day my parents took the first grader me for a scoop of ice cream and, to their surprise/relief, I decided at the last moment to venture far away from the vanilla that I seemed to get every single time.  For me, this change was like a lifelong ballroom dancer suddenly deciding to explore break dancing in the street (probably a bad comparison).  Now, I cannot remember whether this—the ice cream choice, that is—was premeditated or on a whim but I can still feel the agony I felt then as, suddenly sure and fast, came the disorienting effects of Gruen Transfer.  So much variety, such a long list of flavours and different cones.  Not to mention the fact that I couldn't even read the names and everything looked brown.  Let’s be real here.  I remember the anxiety yet, oddly, I cannot recall the exotic new flavour I chose.  Maybe I left the store with another scoop of vanilla.  All I know is that to delve into something new, not only do you have to give it your all but you have to be courageous and willing to take a few leaps and risks to find something that works for you. 

             Now on to the point.  I just read and completed a book in such a short amount of time, I didn't even have a chance to share it on Goodreads.  Talk about enthusiastic. Well, it all started with a conversation with a really cool friend who encouraged me to read a book called “How Starbucks Saved My Life” by a former corporate advertiser named Michael Gates Gill.  Without going into too much detail and ruining the book for you dear reader, this is the true story of a man who had, in a sense, all the flavours in the world and took them all for granted.  Essentially, he was a high class guy who had, in his youth, shared a glass of Sherry with Robert Frost and had run with the bulls in Spain after an intense, manly stare down with Hemingway.  The problem was that he throughout his life he had a lot of power and not only put his job first, but he treated people badly.  So, how in the world does he end up talking about Starbucks? That’s when things get really interesting.  All I gotta say is I recommend this book.  On a side note, I actually found it at Thrift Town (I’ll be talking about my love of thrift stores soon) for 99 cents. 


            So how does this relate to me and why have I been talking about ice cream?  I can’t really say.  All I know is that this book has had an interesting effect on me.  You leave chunks of pages feeling that life is full of unforeseen occurrences and opportunities.  We are all unique in the way we handle life and everyone usually has talents, dreams and goals tucked away to some depth inside them.  Goodness, life is short in this world but sometimes we have to fail and let ourselves be taught.  I find myself recalling all sorts of very good advice.  This may be getting flowery and full of one liners but I will say that once we have our life purpose and are willing to take it to the next level, whatever that might be, we can then do what we love.  In some key ways this man made a huge transition from being narrow-minded and arrogant to humbling himself and becoming someone that I liked very much by the end of the book.

Now it's time to live our purposes...


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