My grandfather was fond of quoting the old saying, in the direction of anyone who happened to be annoying him at the moment, “If he had two thoughts to rub together, he'd be dangerous.” I don't think I'm all that dangerous, but I have had two persistent thoughts lately; and I have been rubbing them together

The first thought comes from Marianne Williamson. She recounts a time when she was helping a dear friend sort through a hauntingly difficult stretch of life. During one of their talks, her friend lamented “I know this is probably all in my head” to which Marianne Williamson was quick to respond, “But don't you see? That's the very worst place for it to be!”

The second thought is more of a memory. I was visiting my mother while on summer break from college. My sister and her son, who was four at the time, came up so that we could all enjoy a weekend together.

Now, my sister and I are both card-carrying and award-winning night-owls so, after she had put her son to bed and we said our good-nights to mom, we settled in for one of our, now infamous, late-night chats.

About an hour into our conversational marathon, my nephew walked into the room. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he explained that he couldn't sleep because there were scary monsters under his bed. Not doubting his word for a moment, we got up, checked, and then reassured him that there were, in fact, no monsters under his bed.

But, with a degree of cuteness that Disney animators can only dream of, he sheepishly responded, “But... I think that there are.”

I share all this because recently, I've noticed some pretty scary monsters under my own bed. (Metaphorically of course; no self-respecting monster would be caught dead under my bed!)

I know they're not real. But I think that they are. If you allow for circular logic, I even have proof – their influence on my life.

Reason, the tight-wearing Super-Hero against all non-existent foes, can usually help me see these monsters a little more clearly for what they really are – a bunch of memories of past hurts, pre-judgments of current circumstances, and worries about the future. In other words, they're nothing more than products of my own making that exist entirely in my head (the very worst place for them to be).

But reason is no match for the power of emotional attachments – even for absurd and completely imaginary ideas. Reason tells me to resist and fight. But invisible head monsters love that! It's the sneaky way they get me to donate all of my energy, and the influential resources of my focused attention, to their cause.

So, I've been revisiting this interaction between my sister and her son from that summer long ago and taking some motherly advice.

She quickly recognized that there was no amount of proof that would help her son sleep. At that moment, some deeply embedded auto-program had temporarily taken control and all other systems were offline. So she decided to go a different route.

Since she couldn't help him dismiss and delete the troubling thoughts, she simply attached a file to them that, like a computer virus, would disarm and dismantle them from within. She asked him “What color are the monsters?” When he told us that the monsters were green, she let out a huge sigh of relief and said, “Oh good! Green monsters are the fun, silly kind. They might try to tickle your feet, but that's the only thing they know how to do.” And that was that.

Indulging the invisible monsters in their “what if” head games of pain, worry and fear might seem a little silly. But it's really no sillier than letting them use all of that creative imagination exclusively against me.  

I swear I wasn't making fun of anyone's haircut. I was just leading a group of singers in an extremely effective, though admittedly silly-looking, vocal exercise and giving a little explanation along the way. But if you happened to walk in at that precise moment, you might have been tempted to call the local mental hospital for a mass pick-up.  

In my role as musical director and vocal coach, I've said a lot of crazy-ridiculous things over the years. In the context of the rehearsal hall or studio, they all made perfect sense (but then, you'd expect me to say that). Outside of those particular settings however, they add up to little more than a bunch of anatomical absurdities with just enough of the asinine thrown in for good measure.

(For the record, there's lots of really good reasons for all of that decidedly nonsensical music-speak, but I'll save that discussion for another time. Now, back to my story.)

Our ears aren't literally in the wrong place; they're just not in any position to tell us what we really need to know for our voice to be at its best. This is not some tragic flaw in human anatomy; it's not even something that needs fixing. It's just one of those bits of reality that's good to know. There's an important life principle at work here that goes far beyond anatomy and vocal pedagogy, but let's start there.

What we hear of our own voice comes, mostly, from within our own head. And, what we hear (again, inside our head) has little to do with how we are heard or how we sound to others. If you've ever been shocked to hear your own voice played back on a recording, you already know this. You may have even uttered, “This is just a bad recording; I don't really sound like that” as you conveniently destroyed the evidence.

If we sing under the assumption that what we hear is the same as what everyone else hears, we're setting ourselves up to recreate one of those sad American Idol rejection scenes. We're actually putting our brain to work, organizing and adjusting all of the muscle groups and systems for singing, under false information.

But whether it's our impulse to sing or any other desire, the brain can only organize, adapt, interpret, and make adjustments in how we engage and experience life in accordance with our awareness and our habits. Our lives, like our voices, are not free to do or to be all that we hope they will be if we persist in assuming too much for the habits and patterns of our perspective.

In the vocal studio we use any and all forms of metaphor and imagery to interrupt patterns that may not be serving us well; the crazier the better. But it's not so different in other areas of our lives. We all have habits and patterns that may, or may not, be serving us well. Sometimes we just need a little craziness to interrupt them if we don't want our lives to resemble a bad karaoke singer cliché.

I heard a quote recently that's been messing with my head in some pretty amazing ways. It's a line from Karyl Huntley that reads, “You know you have forgiven someone when he or she has harmless passage through your mind.” Naturally, on hearing this, my mind began sorting and sifting through dozens of old photo albums. You know how it goes.  

Most of the images belonged to people and events where I truly believed I had already forgiven, let go, or moved beyond. But in light of this new thought, I couldn't help but notice that some of these little mementos were not receiving a very “harmless passage” through my mind. Some faced only minor jabs of remembered wounds and woundings. With others, I was instantly immersed in full-on experiences of regret or resentment. Clearly, I'm not “done” with forgiveness. But forgiveness is one of those lessons that, if I'm lucky enough, I'll always be learning.

But it didn't stop there. Over the next few days I started recognizing other thoughts – most notably, hopes, dreams, goals and aspirations – that also seemed to face some pretty rough travels through my mind. I began to notice that almost as soon as some hope or desire popped into my head, it was immediately surrounded and assaulted from all sides; attacked by a barrage of how it hasn't worked out so far; how distant it appears from where I now stand, and all of those aspects of my current life that I only seem to be able to view as obstacles.

They're my dreams, my goals, my hopes. And, it's my head. Why all this hostility?

We're told, and rightly so, to hold on to our dreams; never give up; don't let go; keep on keepin' on. Cliché? Of course. True? Absolutely. We see it everywhere. Behind every great accomplishment lies some valiant story of persistence, perseverance, consistency and constancy.

But there's an invisible asterisk next to each of those words that we sometimes forget; a corollary principle that's also abundantly true. The good folks at Despair Inc., creators of funny and sarcastic Demotivational products, were kind enough to put it on a poster for me: “Consistency is only a virtue if you're not a screw up.” (Ouch! Personal foul – unnecessary roughness; fifteen yards.)

I thought I was pretty good at holding on, not giving up and being persistent with my desires, hopes and dreams. But just like my new-found awareness with forgiveness, in actuality, the persistence of my focus (where, and to what, I give my attention and donate my energy) had slowly shifted. By zooming in and magnifying every possible angle of my perceived obstacles, I had inadvertently stopped asking “How can I” or, “How will I” and honed in only on “Why can't I.”

It may seem like only semantics or grammar. But I think this is definitely a case where language and grammar, even neuro-grammar, makes all the difference in the world – especially when it comes to allowing my mind to be, once again, a safe place for my highest hopes and dreams.

So, how can I begin reversing this hostile environment? How will I start? (See how I didn't ask “Why can't I?” Baby steps.  

I believe it was a Tuesday. There wasn't anything unusual about this particular Tuesday; no holiday, graduation or birthday. It wasn't a coming together of old friends, long-separated by a painful amount of time, distance or emotional grievances. It was just – Tuesday.  

I was sitting in my favorite coffee haunt, thumbing through one of the local community rags, sipping some hot, frothy, caffeinated goodness, awaiting the arrival of my friend. No grand agenda; no personal or global crisis. Just coffee... on a Tuesday.

When she arrived, I stood to greet her with a hug. That's what we do. Over time and shared experience, every friendship develops its own unique way of expressing and demonstrating its connection and mutual meaning – life with life. We hug.

For me, there's never anything perfunctory about a hug. No one would ever accuse me of being overly affectionate, but I'm also not one to knowingly lend my emotional strength to “keeping up appearances.” At the risk of show-casing some of my own designer baggage, I don't usually worry much about most conventional niceties.

Our greeting lasted no more than a moment. Although time loses relevance where shared life is concerned; a split-second glance can carry a lifetime of meaning between friends. But at that precise moment, the owner of the cafe happened to walk by and remarked, “That's some hug.” Without missing a beat we responded, “We practice.”

It wasn't so much that we practiced the physical act of hugging (although that is our customary greeting). It's our practice of celebrating and honoring our friendship that results in hugs. Over the course of our friendship, we've simply made thousands of little choices that have slowly created an intentional habit of choosing understanding, support, and genuine encouragement (as in, speaking courage to places of fear and concern). And, I guess it showed.

Then again, our habits of choice always show – even when they are more about our ways of being than our ways of doing. In Making Life Better, I raised this idea as part of a Thought Experiment:

“In the, “not yet,” we can see ourselves easily acting, reacting, thinking and feeling in ways that are absolutely true to ourselves – consistent with our deepest values and congruent with our highest sense of purpose... But many times, we can find ourselves excusing, or putting off, some of our “not yet” ways of being until some our “not yet” circumstances have fallen into place.“

But it's always “now” and it's never “not yet.” Whatever it is we wish to be or become in the “not yet” – whether it has to do with health, finances, relationships, career, attitude, or even hugs – every step toward any “not yet” desire can only be taken now, where we are, with who we are. And within each and every moment lies the opportunities to practice at least a little of what that means to us. We don't have to wait for any special day or set of circumstances. Tuesdays are just fine.   

operating systems. It seems to me that unless we become willing (and able) to devote some of our focused attention to, and include a growing understanding of, our auto-pilot habits of action, reaction, thought and feeling, we can fool ourselves into thinking and living such that making our lives better becomes completely dependent on what other people do. And, in the words of Richard Bach (in his book, Illusions), “If your happiness depends on what someone else does, then you really do have a problem.”

How did you choose your title? How did you choose your genre?
Well, the genre pretty much chose itself. I tend to be a fairly philosophical person by nature – kind of a personal development junkie. Even before I had the words with which to describe this innate tendency, I've always been one who likes to question the questions. I've always felt that living with a better-serving question is far more valuable than having answers. And, as you can probably imagine, this can steer any unsuspecting conversation into some fairly unusual territories. But that's a “whole 'nother Oprah.”

The title came from a long, honest look at the chapters and list of subjects I wished to cover. Wisdom, choices, simplicity, communication, forgiveness, attention, inner-peace etc. – these are all pretty elusive topics. Yet to me, they represent the heart of everything we mean when we think about improving our lives. So, as I questioned the questions, the idea of owning our part of our making and the word “better” kept popping up. Of course the word “better” is also fairly elusive. And, rightfully so. “Better” is definitely in the eye of the beholder and can only derive its meaning from each person's unique sense of purpose, meaning and direction. 

The subtitle, “... from someone who chooses to...” just comes from my own desires – how I hope I am understood. It can be pretty presumptuous to write a book of this nature. As I say in the first chapter, “Making Life Better does not come from some high and lofty place, but from a fellow learner who's still learning.” 

What inspired you to be a writer?
I don't think it's so much that I was inspired to be a writer and then set out to write a book. For me, it's much more that, over the years, I have found myself continually in the role of counselor, confidant, consultant, coach and the ever-ready “go-to” guy for help and advice – regardless of my job description or title. It seems to be just a part my nature – an important part of who I am. And, over countless thousands of conversations, I slowly began to recognize some patterns in both the issues being raised, and my own thinking – my own brand of help. I noticed that what each and every one of these conversations had in common were some very specific, “common to all of us” concepts and ideas that eventually came to be expressed in “Making Life Better.” 

Although I've always been an avid reader, I'd never before really considered myself a true writer. In Making Life Better, I just tried to find ways to give full voice to some ideas with which I have lived for a long time and about which I am passionate. But I sincerely do hope that I have written well, communicated clearly and that I am understood. 

Are you writing another book?
Yes. Slowly, but yes. I don't even have a “working title” as yet to share (Although I've toyed with ideas ranging from “Kicking and Screaming” to to “Help Unwanted”). This work is shaping up to revolve around, as you might expect, learning and growing – only this time, the focus is on some of the most unlikely, unwanted, and most strongly resisted teachers: fear, worry, regret, pain, failure etc... It's about understanding that avoiding, ignoring or resisting those experiences that we find ourselves unable to interpret as anything but negative, is not the same thing as over-coming them. Over-coming and moving beyond them depends entirely on our ability to engage the lessons that they alone can teach us; to understand them – or, more accurately, to understand what they have to say to us, about us. 

It's still very much in a concept development stage. But I'm slowly wrapping my brain around it little by little. 

What do you feel is unique about “Making Life Better” that might set it apart from other books within this vast genre?
The first thing that comes to mind is humor. It's very “me” and I'm kind of funny – both “ha-ha” funny and just plain odd. Or, so I've been told.

Beyond that, I think my approach to the subject matter is fairly uncommon, unconventional even. In fact, one of the reasons I wrote this book was the sheer number of times someone has commented on the uniqueness of my way of thinking, or my approach to one or more of these subjects, and said “You really need to write this stuff down” or, “Everyone needs to hear this.”

The concepts are really quite simple (in a “well duh” kind of way), just not simplistic. They're complex, but not really all that complicated. 

I think Making Life Better prompts new trains of thought, changes the questions and offers its most valuable help in that it challenges the reader to constantly be willing to trade-up for better-serving questions. (Again, “better” being defined through one's own sense of purpose and meaning.)

What is it you hope readers will be able to take away and add to their lives from their reading of “Making Life Better” ?

I really hope to foster within each reader the kind of thoughts that create choices where auto-pilot reactions used to be (and of course, I hope I have provided lots of tools to be able to engage those choices). 

From my perspective, the ability to bring ourselves back into a position of being “at choice” and “at cause” for our own lives really is the only way, with our honesty and integrity intact, we can truly make our lives better. 

Any final words you'd like our readers to know?
Only that if anyone is interested in finding out more, there are now several ways to preview the book. You can read through the Table of Contents, find excerpts and quotes, read the entire first chapter or even watch the wonderful video book trailer created by the talented Ann Patterson. All of the previews are available instantly (and free) on my website. Thanks so much for reading.