Yesterday, when checking through security at the airport, the TSA officer said to me, “Keep up the good work. I like what you do for the world.” In that moment, as I walked on with my over weight back pack cutting into my shoulder, I gained a new view of love that I hadn’t seen before. He, like many strangers I meet, wasn’t strange at all. He, like many, is actually cheering me on.
Being recognized can sometimes cause a weird feeling. We all have a sense of being stared at and it’s not easy to know how to act. One’s ego might think, “I must look cute today, or “they totally know me, or “there must be something totally wrong with me. “Do I have toilet paper hanging out of my ass? “Is my zipper down? “Do I have BO? “A cowlick? “What?!
And yet, to be acknowledged by anyone is a wonderful feeling. And it’s beginning to happen more and more. At least once a day in fact. “Hey, Are you… I really like your music. Keep it up.”
I don’t recall this happening at other jobs I had. “Hey, Are you… I really like how you get the shit streaks out of the toilets. And you mop the floors real good. Keep it up!”
“Hey, Are you… Oh man, I really love how you barely get to work on time and sleep under your desk. Keep it up!”
Sometimes people stop me and say things like, “I hate to be a nerd but… or, “I’m sorry to bother you, but… or, “I’m not a creepy stalker, but… And often their hands are shaking while forgetting to introduce themselves. It’s usually a very sweet exchange. I’ve yet to meet a creepy stalker. Even among the creepy stalkers.
The feeling is enormous to have people in airports, airplanes, restaurants, hotels, gyms, malls, markets, theatres, street corners and parks, all around the world, cheer you on. It’s like I’m in some kind of decade long ultra-marathon whose crowd is spread out all around the globe to give me high fives and encouragement – a little hydration for the soul – as I pass them by. And personally, that’s pretty fckin’ radtastic.
2012 has proven to be a prosperous and adventuresome new year.
Just 2 weeks ago I had a skin graft to relocate tissue from the roof of my mouth onto a receding gum line. Upon getting the stitches out yesterday I realized in that relatively quick time of healing I managed to do quite a bit. For example, I wrote a few new songs, scored a documentary, cycled about 75 miles, surfed, went to Sundance Film Festival, went snowboarding, saw some great movies, went to LA, started building a motorcycle, saw Skrillex, performed live several times, ate lots of amazing food, painted the garage, made a music video, painted a rad mural, kissed a girl, many times in fact, flew to Argentina, and even slept for 15 hours straight at one point.
I have a nose for roses. I can also smell marijuana a mile away and tell you who lit it. This was always convenient at DMB concerts when I wasn’t holding but wanted a drag or two during my favorite song. My technique is a humble one. First, I dance my jig alongside whichever group is tokin’ up. Then I offer a smile and/or a polite bow without ever saying too much and I simply step into the rotation. I then express my gratitude with eye contact and usually mouth the words thank you while I exhale a plume of smoke, so as to delight and not bother the group with my cheap antics anymore than I already did during the music. I always liked that about pot. It brings people together in a special unspoken way. Rarely does a stranger come up to you and ask, may I have a sip of your beer. A doobie doesn’t have backwash.
As I drive around LA on my Vespa, I get to experience each neighborhood thru the nostrils. I’m not joking when I say I smell pot every 15 minutes. And I pull up next to at least one car every morning that has that sweet, tangy smoke fuming from its windows. I can smell it all the way down the lane, using my olfactory radar to lead me to whichever car is blazing. At a stoplight I’ll give the driver a nod. Again, it’s an unspoken acknowledgement from one stoner to another. Although, the paranoid look of being busted is the most common expression I see on drivers’ faces.
A remarkable thing happened on the bike trail near my house in San Diego. I could smell a pungent skunk but I knew better. At first I thought someone was being sneaky in the woods, but low and beholding were two cyclists ahead of me passing a joint back and forth between their spandex frames. I couldn’t believe my luck. OF COURSE I pedaled up next to them and got myself in the rotation. You don’t pass up a rare opportunity like that. I never slowed down nor removed my headphones. We shared the moment rolling along, nodding smiles and throwing peace signs, the international gestures for It’s all good.
In CA, pot laws are lenient as medicinal marijuana is available for people seeking natural remedies for pain, insomnia, or short term memory loss. I recently had skin tissue removed from the roof of my mouth and transplanted slash grafted over my gums to keep my teeth from falling out later in life. It’s not a painful procedure but it does take awhile to recover from – adjusting to a mouthful of stitches covered up in silly putty. Instead of Steroids, Antibiotics, and the prescribed pain reliever, Naproxen, I used high doses of leafy green produce, garlic, ginger, turmeric, oregano, and ye olde cannabis extract for a completely homeopathic approach to healing. It’s been a week now and I’ve not once endured swelling, pain or infection. In this I prove one doesn’t need expensive pharmaceuticals nor the nasty side effects. There are all-natural solutions all around us. Always.
I’ve also been on a pretty strict plant-based diet for 4 months now – feeling stronger, fitter, healthier and more productive. I ride longer distances on my bike, can do more pull-ups than ever, and my brain seems to have a larger capacity for new projects, problem solving, songwriting, and fielding random questions. My health and strength make me a better performer and all that combined gives me more confidence to go out in the world and shine my light. It also makes me a lot better in bed. Just sayin…
I’m grateful to the boy I was that believed in the man I’ve become.
For those curious or concerned about a plant-based diet, check out the film Forks Over Knives. It’s a life changer. You can get all the protein you need from greens, quinoa, and hemp seed. I also supplement my diet with multiple servings of Warrior Food by HealthForce.com. But that’s just how I roll.
Always listen to your body before doing anything drastic.
This post is dedicated to my friend Sacha, who everyday in the studio would start by googling the latest news in shark discoveries. Most often I think he was looking for a story about another attack, something to make us all wince. Whatever the case, from the center of London, his passion for great whites kept our hearts and minds close to the coast.
Also, my roommate (whose name I’ll refrain from using to protect the reputation of he and his roomates) we’ll call, Willy Walegood, won’t swim in a pool at night due to his fear of these teethy creatures patrolling his mind. True Story.
Last week a new app launched that he and you will love. It was created by a neighbor and friend of mine, a local guava farmer who raises bees and makes the most delicious honey, who also happens to be a marine biologist. Throughout his career in the ocean, he’s tagged hundreds if not thousands of great white sharks in the wild. The sharks remain free and are able to be tracked by satellite all around the world helping scientists and researchers learn about food supplies, changing weather conditions, and a whole lot more about the ocean, in depth – above our heads; puns attempted.
The new app lets you keep up in real time with a fleet of sharks. It’s a great educational app, perfect for kids, divers, ocean enthusiasts, and those who think sharks may be hiding in their swimming pool. Not so good for fisherman who like shark fin soup.
For the past week, I’ve enjoyed seeing I Won’t Give Up sit at the top of the iTunes most downloaded songs, and in such good company. I’ve also been floored by some of the covers already gracing the pages of the internet. Like the beautiful freakies at the bottom of this post.
That song, along with the World As I See It, are the first of a dozen you’ll soon hear on a new studio album – an album about love; what one does in love to make it work, and what one does in love when it’s time to let go.
Since it’s inception I’ve referred to this collection of songs as the makings for “the Love album.” I’ve held onto a love inspired image for the album cover for the past two years. The image hangs on my wall. It’s etched onto my water bottle. It’s inlaid into a stone path that connects my home to my studio. It’s even painted on the side of my house. And over the past two years the concept and compositions have managed to collage them selves around the image. Thankfully, my vision board, to the best of my ability, is complete.
Music is the medium I use to recover from life’s often deafening blow. I constantly reawaken thru music. The act of making music is how I tune in and/or tune out to solve life’s puzzles, trying to make the most sense of that which I can’t seem to stop questioning. In life there are problems. In music, if not a direct answer, comes a divine perspective.
On this album my intention was to sing about what love is. The giving. The receiving. The Ups and Downs… And at first that seemed a fairly simple task. Almost every song I’ve ever written is about love or because of love. In some ways I thought this album would be easier than others to manifest.
But as I dove deeper, defining love grew a daunting task. What did I really know about love? Who am I to be so bold as to take this on? Ah, there’s the rub. Do you love yourself enough to be okay in every situation? So much so that no matter what you say you can have no attachment to how It and you are received?
After much exploration, listening, learning, letting go – A voice inside offered “Get out of your head and into your heart. Go be of service. In service you will find love. In service you will BE LOVE.” These are the thoughts that led me to tour again in 2011. By combining live shows with outreach and adventure, one gets his own greatness from others’ smiling faces.
In my travels I asked many what Love meant to them. For some it meant being love no matter what – expanding one’s capacity to love, regardless of circumstances – never giving up – loving what is difficult to understand – serving – accepting.
I began also to view love as the language everything speaks in the natural world. The essence of all there is. The sun for instance is perhaps our greatest source of love. It gives and gives and gives and never burns out. When a tree grows tall and its leaves reach for the sun, they too are sending their love and gratitude right back out into the world, paying love forward to others. Trees give us and many creatures food, shelter, and warmth. Animals, like humans, continue to serve and protect and share with one another. And so on goes that circle.
“There is only love. Everything else is our resistance to it.” – Terces Engelhart
Birds fill the skies with their complex music while dolphins and whales keep the seas flowing with their songs, which some consider to be the songs that contain the recorded history of the earth. All have a message to all. And at the root of every thought, is love.
To me, any creative act is love. Ever since the big bang, the universe, this earth, this civilization, has been some version of Love expressing itself. The word I use so commonly – Love – is so much smaller than what It actually is. It’s one of the greatest forces in the universe – yet it can’t be measured, let alone defined – yet that which propels us forward in thought, in action, can only be this One thing. (and still “One thing” sounds so small, when in fact “One thing” is everything, the sum of all parts.)
Child Educator & TV legend Mr Roger’s tried to warn us at a young age when he said, “understanding love is one of the hardest things in the world.” Thanks for heads up Fred.
I am happy and in love with who I am today. I found what I needed in myself to sustain an experience of love no matter where i am, no matter who I surround myself with. Whether I’m alone or among hundreds in a crowd, I am present to the power of love and the impact it has through all of life.
Love is life.
And now after two years seeking, celebrating and sorrowing, I finally have a record to share with the world. And what I figured out in the end is that Love isn’t always a pink heart on a valentine’s card. It’s also what breaks you apart when someone passes away as you lose the opportunity to share your eyes and adoration with that person.
Love is and will always be multi-faceted. It’s comedy in the face of tragedy. It’s romance on the deck of a sinking ship. It’s where the sacred meets the silly. It’s having compassion for your enemies and being nice to the dining room table after you’ve stubbed your toe. It’s what turns you inside out and makes you go nuts, like having a song stuck in your head for months, but you know it’s not a song at all. It’s your life.
Therefore, in summary, if you ask me what love is. I would simply say, in jest, and in truth,
I live near a military base. I don’t know much about it. It’s a place where Marines develop their skills and learn how to properly play with their toys I guess. Our friendly neighborhood airspace includes as many low flying helicopters and subsonic explosions as it does crows and their foretelling caws.
The base begins just beyond a storybook contoured landscape of farmland that cat-cows across a horizon on the opposite side of a valley below my house. At night the farm is lit with hundreds of well organized rows of bulbs. I tell people it’s a light bulb farm but the guy is really growing flowers. He produces many for the Rose Bowl parade and has for years. The night lights he uses hurries along mother nature.
Last night the base was firing something into the sky, adding even more light to the fields. The sparks moved like melancholy fireworks, each one a runaway from the pack. One soft light at a time trailing low over a canvas of stars held me a kept man and reversed my years. I wasn’t even a man anymore. I was just a pair of eyes, like how a child must feel before it’s first download. Each flare arced and faded languidly like shooting stars in slow motion. Mimicking it’s movement made my head turn.
The waxing full moon had my back which meant I was free to be lost in gazing. In gratitude for this new chance to see the earth in such great light, from such great heights, from a little house on a hill, at night, I smiled a warm smile, tucked my hands in my pockets, and levitated.
To some, the electrically charged flower farm and the military base could be viewed as wastes of energy; each operating out of some degree of fear or greed. But to others, the spectacle alone is beautiful and worth acknowledging.
How you choose to project your light onto others is “soul”ly up to you.