Josh Allred's Blog

I’m told it’s a popular saying in Spanish that translates to: “To cover the sun with a finger.”

It’s a warning. Meaning you shouldn’t try to pretend your problems are not as big as they are. Or to make something small or insignificant to solve complex problems.

That’s what Amazon and the Super Bowl try to accomplish. Be something for everyone. Average stuff for average people.

For everyone else: You can’t define what it is you do without first defining what it is you don’t.

Meaning, you must define the edges. You must pick a genre. You have to decide who it is you serve. Because you’re not Amazon.

It’s worth noting that the most popular books in the US is only read by one percent of the population. You might write the next Harry Potter but it doesn’t mean people will read it.

It isn’t reciprocity. By definition, gifts are meant to be freely given. No strings attached. Yet, we have a hard time accepting something without giving something in return.

That’s what industrialism has indoctrinated us to believe. This for that.

Accept the gift. You may not feel like you deserve someone’s generosity, but then again, who is entitled to anything in this life?

Connection.

Time.

Service.

Emotional labor.

Art.

Gratitude.

Kindness.

Free hugs.

This list goes on and on. You have more tools at your disposal. You just need to have courage and to care.

Not having the means to sufficiently live is a really tough place to be. A billion people will go to bed tonight without power, food or clean water. Think about that. A billion people.

Yet, we can get caught feeling that we are behind right here at home. That’s because of indoctrination. Industrialism has taught us for many decades to want more and to not be satisfied.

Do you really need a new car or is the one you are driving working just fine?

Do you really need a new pair of shoes or do you have enough?

Do you really need a lot of these things we charge or do you simply want them?

This post isn’t to shame anyone. I love nice tools. However, luxury is a narration, a story we tell—not a necessity.

If you are feeling behind, the question is, “From what?” Because consumption can feel like a hamster wheel that’s constantly spinning.

Creation can kill our need for consumption.

Why do we do this?

Why do we equate other peoples success to luck or privilege while simultaneously view our situation as circumstantial?

Most of it has to do with our narration. When we can insulate ourselves it lets us off the hook. When we have no responsibility then we can’t take it.

There’s a reason why many people who win the lottery eventually end up with the exact same as before. Think about it.

If the boss asks you to jump, we have been indoctrinated to answer, “How high?”

Another way to think about this is if the boss said walk, you may respond, “How far?”

It’s a silly visualization. To imagine people jumping up and down or walking with no direction.

But the thing that strikes me is this:

We only give what is enough to not get in trouble for a job that we don’t care much about. Even if the destination is pointless. Show me the set of instructions, show me the map, and I will comply. No more, no less.

On the other hand, when we are creating art, you’ll realize rather quickly:

We don’t know what to do because no one is expecting anything out of us. And we are terrified of the space and freedom to decide when no one defines the genre/rules/boundaries for us.

Many of us have a hard time handling this. Which is what makes art so terrifying to begin.

Some people think it’s a call to do art. While you certainly can feel a pull towards one’s vocation, we are way more afraid of the freedom and judgement art creates and call it mystical to avoid the leap to make work that might fail.

What does it say about us if we put our heart and soul into something and not have it work?

To make art is to lead. To take a torch and shine a light in the darkness for others to follow. And if you don’t pick yourself, how are you expected to lead us?

Improvisation theatre teacher, Keith Johnstone, astutely claimed that every interaction on stage is about status. Who’s up? Who’s down?

The analogy is powerful. Because once you see it, it will change every interaction you have going forward.

The interaction with the boss, the exchange with a teacher, the run in with your neighbor, attending someone’s retirement party, getting pulled over by a police officer—all exchanges in status.

We think improv is about being spontaneous working without a script or a set of instructions. But we are wrong. It’s about the exchange of status.

Life is improv. Everything is improv.

I was recently asked what I would do if I were handed a check and could retire today.

I would spend my time with my family and friends, go on trips, read and write, go skiing, cook dinner, work on Pivot Adventure, solving the problem of teen suicide and perhaps start another nonprofit.

The thing is, I do all those activities already. Sure if I had a few million dollars I might do them more. It was a reminder that you don’t need to be rich to do the things you love. We just think we do.

Obviously, this doesn’t work for everyone. Not everybody comes from a place with this much opportunity. At the same time, there are plenty of studies that show that our level of happiness declines once we hit a certain number.

You cannot price what fills your soul.

When we are angry, we jump to conclusions. We are assuming that we are right, we are certain and we have lost something that we are entitled to. The amygdala is in the driver’s seat.

On the other hand, when we are curious, we are asking questions and observing. We are admitting that we are in a state of incompetence and trying to understand what is actually happening.

The two are not compatible.

You can’t be curious and angry at the same time.