Where do you want to go with this?
What do you want to be when you get there?
How do you want to end?
Where is the finish line?

For a change, I’m actually starting this post from an arguably morbid place and trying to guide it back toward a more holistic one- beginning with the end in mind.

Based on the most recent understanding of science and medicine that I can find, yes- we are all still gonna die one day.

One day, we will see a sunrise but not the sunset. One day, we will have our last beer, eat our last sandwich, tell our friends and family we love them for the last time, and look up at the sky for the last time. For most of us, we will never know exactly when those moments will happen. We will lay on our deathbeds (whatever they look like) recount our lives, and finally know there is no more time left to make good. Our regrets will (maybe) carried with us beyond the one thing a person only ever has to do once- and what comes next is whatever comes next. Memento mori, carpe diem, tempus fugit, all of that stuff.

I’ve been feeling pretty down lately, but for a change, I’m not applying this notion of terminality to grand existential questions. Take a breath, we’re all cool here. Instead, think about this in terms of your projects and goals.

It’s old wisdom, but we tend to forget it in the face of moment-to-moment minutiae. It’s the difference between being in “survival mode” and safety. It’s the difference between surviving and thriving- the ability to pause and say “What comes next, what comes later, how do I know I’ve finished?”

For people in survival mode (no shame in that, by the way) the priority is just getting from one end of the day to the other with a chance at doing it again. Finding yourself in that situation is not fun, and folks facing it need help and love, not shame and scorn.

(Don’t fucking talk to me about the “marshmallow test.” It’s easy to put off one treat for two later when that “treat” isn’t a means of survival and you know you’ll be okay if that double treat later doesn’t come after all. )

Mortality and social ethics aside as much as possible now, knowing where you want to end up is important to deciding how you get there. If your goal is just “I want to be a bazillionaire” but you don’t have the caveats of “I want to be fabulously wealthy but I don’t want to burn my body and soul out, betray every relationship I ever have, and chuck any notion of a moral compass in the crapper until I do at the very end of my life if I’m ridiculously fucking lucky,” you might wind up just like that… or dying without coming close and being way more miserable in the process of trying.

So right here, right now, decide what it’ll be like when you finally “make it” or when the project is finally “done.” Get into detail- the tinier the better. This is for no one else but you, so be as nitty-gritty as you need to be. Get absolutely granular. How will you life be after this is done?
What will it be like?
What will YOU be like?
What will you have maintained despite the goal?
What will you have given up for it?

If you can’t answer these things, wait until you can. Time’s gonna go on regardless- you may as well wind up where you’d like to be.

“It would take me years to do this the way I want!”
No kidding… how old will you be then if you don’t do it, and would you be able to sleep well at night? Remember: Shortcuts don’t pay well for anyone except those who provide them.

As I’m writing this, I’m sitting at the curb-facing window seats of a bar I used to be a regular at. It’s been a few years and they seem to have chilled out a bit. A non-paper menu, for starters. A concise tap list, a cocktail list, and front patio. The jukebox is still excellent though, playing Louis Armstrong, Harry Belafonte, and Louis Prima.

I’ve promised myself that the only reason I’m sitting here or even out today spending money is because 1. I need to socialize a bit and 2. I would get some writing done. I’ve promised myself that I’d have a first draft of the next book done by the end of the year.

Depending on how much detail I choose to go into, I feel like I can make it… But I don’t want the book to just be an autobiographical kvetching session. When the book is done, I want to actually be useful to students and teachers in our industry and not just a vanity project memoir.

As I go back over my notes, photos, and memories to write the book, the temptation to veer into a gossipy tea-spilling bitchfest is real. So much of what I (even tangentially) talk about in the book is the stuff at comes out around the bar with other kitchen pros and prefaced with “Yeah, I remember at my old place, get a load of this shit…”

That doesn’t help anyone but influencers and SEO. Keep it professional. Say as much as you need to to make the point- keep the crass bile and unhealed anger down for a moment. Deal with that on your own time. If that’s not the end you want, avoid it at all costs.

Not just the book, either- I don’t want to be that guy at the end. Yes, I want to entertain, enlighten, and educate, but not by venting my spleen all over the public and expecting people to pay for it. That’s my frustration to manage, resentment to wrangle, and hurt to heal. When the book is done, what can others learn from it beyond a mess of petty drama? THAT’S my goal.

So it’s taking a while to get from here to there, but at least I know it’ll be worth it in the end- and it’ll be something you will enjoy and I’ll be proud of.

So… where do you want to be, and how will you make sure its worth it?

Stay Classy,