But I still have a special place in my heart for the printed page. As an author, books are the lifeblood of what I do. I love everything about them: the ever-so-slight cracking of the spine when its first opened, the plot summary on the inside flap of the dust jacket, the sharp edge of the page as it’s turned, the thump that comes from the book being closed for the last time, and the sigh of satisfaction that follows. When it comes to creating a full sensory experience, no other form of entertainment can do what a book can.

I try to make it to Barnes and Noble as often as possible to sneak a peek at the new releases or raid the bargain bins for a diamond in the rough. But I’ve found more and more that the experience isn’t what it used to be. Aside from the e-reader kiosks that dominate the center section of the store, it seems that an increasing amount of shelf space is being occupied by things other than books: board games, infant toys, and every variety of fountain pens one can possibly imagine. And the coffee station that once only served up mugs of coffee or cappuccino now offers exquisitely fattening breakfast burritos, iced mocha drinks, and lines that often stretch deep into the Health & Sexuality section.

What was once a place to go to quietly skim a few books has now become something akin to Epcot. The only thing missing is a giant e-reader-shaped mascot that hands out balloon animals to the kids.

Fortunately, there is an alternative — and in my opinion a damn fine one. Despite the omnipresence of the behemoth chains, used book stores continue to exist and thrive in cities across the country. Often, these stores are mom and pop operations that have served their neighborhood for decades. For those of us who love books, the advantage of these stores over the large chains is obvious: the ability to find a long out-of-print hardcover that often costs little more than a trade paperback, a knowledgeable, friendly staff, a comfortable, quiet, intimate environment for doing as much skimming as your heart desires, and most importantly, no barista, child’s toy, or balloon animal to be found anywhere.

And as far as the reading experience goes, you won’t find a better way to actually experience it. Used books have history and character. From the frayed edges of a decade-old hardcover, to the spine of a paperback so worn from use that the title displayed on it is barely legible, to the previously underlined passages and turned down pages. The book’s journey, as well as all of the attention and care that went along with that journey, is fully evident.

Used books smell better, feel better, and read better. They’re comfortable in your hand — broken-in like the perfect baseball mitt. And when you open one up — whether its two-years-old or two decades old — you are witness to that book’s power to endure. Through torn pages and coffee rings and smudged text, the story is still there, and it will always be; long after the breakfast burritos have been consumed, and the fountain pens have dried up, and the e-reader is no longer the go-to form of literary consumption.

The story lives forever. Let’s hope the used book store does as well.

There are some who believe that the two words I AM are the most powerful in the universe, because whatever you put after those words essentially defines your existence. I personally subscribe to this belief as well. I’ve recently developed a set of mantras that I repeat every day, and they all begin with I AM. Those words, more than any others, speak to the immense power and potential that exists within all of us. Because of those words, we have the ability to shape our individual realities. What we think of ourselves or our circumstances is what will multiply in our lives. When it comes to the law of attraction, we won’t always attract what we want. But we will always attract what we are. I can certainly testify to the truth of this statement, and if you really analyze your current circumstances and the thoughts you’ve attached to them, most of you can too.

The principle of I AM almost always relates to the individual. It is the micro view of existence. But what happens when we apply the principle on a macro level? What happens when I AM becomes WE ARE?

I believe that the law of attraction works on both the micro and macro levels. It applies to our perception (and thus our reality) of ourselves. It also applies to our perception (reality) of the world.

I’ve seen this play out repeatedly in my own life. I used to absolutely dread my morning commute. It was literally the worst part of my day. Before I got in the car, I’d say things like: “I really hope no one drives like a maniac today”, or “It’s Monday, so I’m sure traffic is going to suck”. And the negative energy only ramped up once I got in the car. If someone was driving too fast, or if, God forbid, they cut me off, their actions suddenly became an indictment of the state of the entire world. “You see,” I’d say in my most indignant voice as I pointed self-righteously at the offender, “That’s what’s wrong with the world — too many self-absorbed people who only care about themselves. When did people just suddenly stop giving a damn about each other? What happened to basic human decency?” I’d mumble a few other things that I won’t share here, blame social media and cell phones for the breakdown of our social and moral fabric, and carry on with my drive — cortisol pumping through my veins like crazy.

You can probably guess how the rest of my trip went. I only experienced more of the same. The reality of my driving experience conformed to my pervasive thoughts about it.

So if we go through life thinking that the world is this big, bad, scary place because the media tells us it is, then the world will become big and bad and scary for us. If we live in a constant state of fearing the ‘other’ — those who don’t look like us, talk like us, or worship like us — then our world will continue to shrink until there is no room left for anyone in it but ourselves.

The world is absolutely what we make it. Yes, there is suffering, injustice, and intolerance on a scale that is often difficult to comprehend. But there is a fine line between being aware of our problems (and using that awareness to combat them) and allowing the entire world — and thus our reality — to be defined by them.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating the start of a Kumbaya movement here. That is a much too simplistic approach to the complex nature of our humanity. But what I am advocating is switching up the default mode of our perception. Instead of assuming the worst, why not assume the best? Instead of fearing differences, why not embrace them with an understanding that our commonalities are far greater?

Understand that most people in the world are just like you. They are trying their best to navigate an existence that can at times be challenging, and even those with the best intentions can have bad moments. Would it be fair if someone forever judged you for a moment in which you lost your temper or let your ego guide you in a direction that you later regretted? Of course it wouldn’t be fair. Nor is it fair that we judge the world by the misguided actions of those whom the media sees fit to highlight, while ignoring the millions of uplifting stories that truly define what humanity is capable of.

Given the myriad of ways that the world can piss us off, I fully understand that keeping our default response switched to ‘positive’ can be a grueling exercise at times. But I also contend that the effort is absolutely worth it.

I AM allows us to define our place in the world. WE ARE allows us to define that world. What we choose to put after those two statements truly matters.

I choose to say that WE ARE fundamentally good, if we give others the room, and grant ourselves the permission.

WE ARE…

How does the statement end for you?

Thank you for reading.

Until next time… stay present.

JHB

- Alan Watts

When you’re passionate about what you do, it doesn’t feel like work. We hear that expression so much, it’s almost become cliché. For some of us, we’ve heard it so much that it’s actually become worthy of an eye-roll. I work because I have to, you rightly say. I have bills to pay and children to feed. I don’t have the luxury of indulging my passion. That mindset is completely understandable, and in a lot of instances, completely warranted.

But it’s also not entirely true.

Finding the time to indulge your passion isn’t a luxury. It is absolutely essential to having a meaningful, well-balanced life. Yes, you must pay your bills and tend to your family’s needs. But your needs matter too. We’re so much more than our jobs and our responsibilities, and our lives are meant to be lived with a greater purpose beyond checking off the daily to-do list.

The truth of our lives is that each of us is endowed with a gift that is meant to be nurtured and shared. Whether it’s writing, or painting, or design or, teaching, our talents are as unique as we are. But whatever that talent is, you owe it to yourself to pay attention. The demands of life may not currently afford you as much time to devote to the pursuit as you’d like, but even if you have as little as thirty minutes of free time, spend it on yourself. With time, you may be able to find thirty more minutes during your lunch break or on the weekends. As you slowly discover the depths of your talent, you begin to understand that it isn’t an occasional activity to indulge in only after the more ‘important’ work of your life is done. You begin to understand that the expression of your talent is one of the main reasons you were put here to begin with. Then you begin to act on it. Then you begin to put in the work. And when you compare how you feel at the end of your nine-to-five day versus how you feel after a day of ‘indulging’ in your passion, you discover that the cliché is one-hundred percent truth. You’ll realize that it really isn’t work. It’s passion. It’s liberation. It’s play.

And it’s the only place you’ll want to be.

Thanks for reading.

Until next time… stay present.

JHB

For more posts, please visit myzenapparel.com

~George Santayana

I was born and raised in Colorado. I grew up with nature all around me. There were beautiful mountains, amazing hiking trails, and, of course, some of the country’s best skiing conditions. But I never managed to connect to any of it. Despite being less than a forty-minute drive from areas that some people travel thousands of miles to visit, I’ve always been a city guy. I took a few trips to the mountains when I was a kid, but I was more of less along for the ride with no say-so of where I was going or how long I would be there. Having not spent much time in nature, I never allowed myself to fully appreciate it, or its ability to completely change who I was.

Then I found the ocean.

Last year, my wife, son, and I took a trip to Pacific Beach in San Diego as a Christmas present to ourselves. I’d visited the city a couple of times in my youth, but I stayed mostly inland (that city bias again). My wife visited for a work conference a few years ago, but her experience was mostly the same as mine. Neither of us had ever given any real thought to going back, until we began researching travel destinations last fall. We wanted to take our eight-year-old’s experience into account, so we sought out locales that were, first and foremost, family-friendly. Of all the places we researched, San Diego had the most to offer (with Sea World, the San Diego Zoo, and Lego-Land topping the list). So we went for it, not having any expectations beyond enjoying a warm get away from the frigid December temperatures of our home state. We certainly weren’t prepared for a life-changing trip.

But that was exactly what we got.

Our hotel room was situated only a few steps from the beach, so as soon as we checked in, we put our bags away and walked down for a look — still in our winter clothes, with our pants rolled up over our ankles. The experience was awe-inspiring to say the least. The feeling of warm sand between our toes, the sound of seagulls squawking in the distance, and the smell of saltwater that hung lightly in the air immediately captured us. It was then that I had my first experience with the true majesty of nature, and its ability to transform the way I saw the world — and myself.

There is a natural, easy rhythm to nature that doesn’t exist anywhere in the man-made world. It is the rhythm of creation. What I found, standing on that beach, was that that same rhythm existed in me. Just as it exists in all of us.

Staring out into the vastness of that water, I knew, for the first time in my life, that all things were possible. The same energy that created me created that ocean, and all of the beauty surrounding it. And it wasn’t created with limitation, or lack, or the fear of not being everything that it was meant to be. Neither was I. Neither were you.

The four days we spend on the beach were four of the best says of our lives. Immediately upon returning to Denver, my wife and I came to the mutual conclusion that San Diego would one day be our home. We have been back once since that time and plan to return soon (though, the next time I step foot on that sand, I would like it to be as a full-time resident).

Nature is nothing short of the Universe and It’s power of creation, on full display. That power is all around us, in all things. Most importantly, it resides inside all of us. But we can’t truly appreciate that until we step outside of the man-made cityscape— with its glass and concrete and pollution — and step into God’s domain. For some, that domain is at the top of a mountain. For others, it is a leisurely hike along a scenic trail. For us, it was the soothing gush of ocean water washing up on the sand under our bare feet.

If you want to hear the sweetest music ever created, tune into nature. Its frequency is pitch-perfect. And when you align with that frequency, you absorb a little bit of that perfection too.

Thank you for sharing a few moments.

Until next time.. stay present.

JHB