Schedule Killed the Action/Adventure Star

I use Google Calendar every day. It's incredibly handy and helpful, and all my appointments and events are on there. With alerts, I can be reminded of events that I might otherwise forget. I have separate calendars for my different kinds of events (birthdays, fitness training, etc.) The plethora of different views allows me to see my schedule in any way I might (or might never) want.

I hate Google Calendar. And any kind of calendar/schedule-maker that is easy to use. If it's easy to use, people will use it, and with calendars and schedule-makers, that just won't do.

The Face of Boredom

When you have a schedule, you subtly believe you know what is going to happen during your day. You set the events of your day and you move from one appointment to the next, one task to the next, and one pre-planned moment to the next. It's true that society could hardly function without schedules, but it's just a cultural symptom of our obsession with productivity and efficiency.

This is bad for two reasons: First, because your day is "planned", nothing new or exciting can happen. You know the sequence of events (in fact, you have determined most of them). You become the ultimate master of your own destiny and therefore, there are no surprises.

Second reason: how mind-numbingly boring is that? The chief problem afflicting our culture today is not poverty, hunger, or filthy interstate rest stops... it's boredom. When we use a schedule to line up every minute detail of their days, weeks, years, and lives, we perpetuate this heinous evil and rob ourselves of engaging stimulation.

Maybe each day feels the same because they ARE the same.
"Well, what if there is no tomorrow? There wasn't one today."

For most people with schedules, each day feels exactly the same. It's like you know what's going to happen tomorrow. In corporate America, a select few people have truly exciting jobs, but for the rest of us, it can be a drudge. If you're expecting  the same unexciting day as yesterday, what are you looking forward to? Tomorrow will come and go, and you might ask yourself why do you really care?

Maybe we like schedules to feel in control of our lives. In an effort to be certain of as many things as possible, we plan our lives as a sequence of calender events and appointment invites. It's like giving someone a wrapped gift that you picked out. They may have no idea what's inside, but you do. For that reason, there is no surprise for you. Imagine always giving people wrapped gifts and never receiving one yourself.

What is this ultimately taking a toll on? Reliance on schedules negatively affects our ability to be spontaneous and adventurous that romantically invaluable skill. Imagination is the heart and soul of spontaneity. A common error is to believe that one must be erratic or impulsive to be spontaneous. However, it is imagination that gives the human soul the agility to be spontaneous. But there are few things that kill imagination, and consequently spontaneity, more than pre-planning your life and relying on rigid structures. Consequently, we become slaves to our schedules, both self-imposed and imposed from the outside.

Spontaneity also has a profound influence on one's courage. When an unexpected opportunity or challenge arrives, our ability to rise to it will be diminished, just because it does not fit into whatever we expected. Life is meant for action, and courage is what enables us to take appropriate action in any circumstance. Without courage, we miss out on life's rewards. Life is not always pre-canned or predetermined, and the most critical moments in life are usually those ones that are not planned or expected. Most of us don't need to chase after tanks on horseback or stop an alien invasion or escape from an island of genetically-engineer dinosaurs to satisfy our spirit of adventure and test our courage (if you do, you might be a fictional character), but that courage and adventurousness needs to be reclaimed.

Seize the moment. Push yourself to heroics. Do not settle for blindly following the established order, and do not be afraid to throw the schedule out and blaze your own trail!

I'll bet Indiana Jones didn't schedule this... and he turned out just fine.

Fight to the Death

A few days ago, I watch the 2012 film, "The Grey", starring Liam Neeson and directed by Joe Carnahan ("The A-Team"). It's the story of a former special forces soldier, now working for oil pipeline company in Alaska/Canada, whose plane crashes in that region leaving only him and a few others as survivors. Together, they must brave the cold, the hunger, and the pack of nearby ravenous wolves that seek to pick the off, one at a time. A quick glance at the synopsis might not interest you immensely (it didn't interest me), but upon seeing the film, it felt more like a horror-thriller film than a boring "Cast Away" survival film. It was a very frightening film, but one, I believe, that offers a happy, through realistic ending with an emotional soundtrack and stunning snow-capped, evergreen visuals to match.

I do not usually cry during films (why should I? I'm a man). I used to just get caught up in the moment of "wow, this is an awesome scene!" and that was the extent of my excitement. But there are a few elements of cinema that, if properly portrayed, bring free-flowing tears to my eyes. One element of which is the notion of fighting to the death. I will not explain exactly how this relates to "The Grey", because I hope that this post will convince you to see an amazing film without giving any revealing details.

A number of films exist in which the "fight to the death" theme exists. A few that spring to mind include "The Lord of the Rings", "Henry V", "Gladiator", "Cinderella Man", and, though no actual fighting occurs, "The Passion of the Christ". It is a concept that is nonexistent in our society because we are so obsessed with immortality and preserving our own lives. The American culture is obsessed with extending life by whatever means necessary. Acceptance of death is considered a disastrous defeat. No matter what the challenge, there is always the hope that there will be a way that we can defeat the threat and still live at the end of it. There has to be a way that we can achieve a "happily ever after" ending where everyone lives, right?

Death comes for us all. Ready or not, it comes for us. People are afraid of death because they do not know what they will find on the other side. It is not a welcome event because if we have lived our whole lives the way we wanted to and not the way we ought to have, then we make a gamble. The unknown of death, whether it be Heaven, Hell, or just oblivion is terrifying to the one without a clean conscience.

When Death does come for us, there is no more running, no more hiding. We have been caught out in the open, ragged and exhausted from our frantic flight and the end is inevitable. What more worthy thing can we do? The film "Gladiator" suggests "Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back".

The only thing we can do is gird our loins and face our darkest terror with courage and resolve. While other men will despair or beg for mercy, a man of true-spirit gathers himself up and stands his ground, despite the challenge ahead. Sometimes, we are afforded a moment of reflection. All options run through our head, and our vain hope that we could make it out of this grim circumstance alive is forever on our thoughts. But after breathing deeply and turning our eyes to our ultimate fate, we realize that there is only one thing to do. At this point, success and failure are irrelevant: our focus has to be on completing the task at hand, mustering all forces of body and soul for this one purpose.

Then comes the moment of clarity. All of the struggle and confusion of this world melts away and there is only one thing that remains: the purpose. It is finally apparent that everything that has happened to you, everything you have endured, everything that has filled you with joy and sadness in your entire life was given to you to prepare you for this moment. Now, what will you do with this precious gift of a single moment? The passengers of United Flight 93 on September 11 knew. There would be no returning from that flight, but they saw past the despair at the end of their own lives. Instead, they held onto the most critical thing to do at that moment, and if they did not do it, who would?