Growing some brain cells

Sunday Morning launched five years ago with this note:

Growing up, Sunday mornings were waffles, bacon, eggs scrambled in bacon grease, the Sunday Chronicle strewn all over the living room, Checkers (woof) and Patches (meow) in the middle of it all, and the 49ers and Giants games a constant. Sometimes this gave way to full-on pajama days.

In grad school, I’d curl up in front of a 9” black and white TV for a full hour of sanctuary with Charles Kuralt on CBS Sunday Morning. For that hour, homework, grades, thesis anxiety, and the stark deficit of money disappeared in the simple, calming, quiet wonder and brilliance of nature, real people, and humor — not the laugh out loud kind — the subtle, midwestern wink-of-an-eye kind…

When Campbell and Maddie were little, we’d snuggle in bed together with books and our menagerie of furry friends, while debating making waffles, getting donuts or bagels, or venturing out for breakfast at Emil Villa’s. 

Now it’s coffee, meditation, journaling, NPR, and a run, all in the company of squawking geese and seabirds in a perfect mix of urban grit and nature, and the hopeful diversity that is Lake Merritt. 

So is the spirit of Sunday Morning. In a noisy, crowded, and polarized world of too much to do and way too much to keep up with, this periodic column aspires to provide simple curated ideas and research to enjoy and put to use.

Let’s together honor the peace and sanctuary that is Sunday morning and grow some brain cells.

While Lake Merritt, seabirds, and running are now the Willamette River, ducks, and walking, my Sunday mornings are the same, as is the aim of Sunday Morning — simple, curated ideas and research to enjoy and put to good use and grow some brain cells. 

Why would I do that?

I was resistant. Several clients had  suggested I write a blog or host a podcast. I was a social media recluse, and except for an accidental moment of brilliance in an occasional email, I wasn’t then, and am not now, what I consider  a “writer”.  I didn’t know the first thing about making a podcast. I was bombarded by content myself and couldn’t imagine I’d have anything to say that wasn’t already out there. Why would I do that?  

Then, for the umpteenth time, I started a vision+mission+values engagement by having the team read How to Build a Great Business to lay the foundation for the work. That’s when the switch flipped. Almost no one knew about this book and it was the best business book I’d ever read — full of tools I regularly used with clients. Still do. 

I realized I might actually be able to write fun, short, useful pieces for a small audience of clients, coworkers, family, friends, and random strangers I somehow made a connection with.  

How I did that

There were a couple of weekly emails I looked forward to at the time. I was drawn in by their “think different” content, snappy/pithy/funny casual tone, and simplicity. That gave me a roadmap.

I was warned that publishing on weekends was “not done” —  people would get annoyed or the content would be missed. Yet, one of my favorites hit my inbox first thing Saturday morning. I’d pull it up on my iPhone right when I woke up, and it put a little kick in my Saturday step. It was short and fun, nicely laid out, and energizing. So, despite the warnings, I decided to link the timing to my love of Sunday mornings, and the title Sunday Morning just fell out onto the page. With the help of my ace website designer and editor, we created the format and graphic.

She also encouraged my colloquial voice while fixing my punctuation and grammar faux pas, and calling out when I didn't make any sense, or might have written something that could be offensive. She once asked if I had been schooled outside of the US given my wholesale butchering of the structure of our language and Where’s Waldo run-on sentences, I’ve gotten a lot better over the years thanks to her candor. 

The sausage making

Pieces start with my random thoughts and curated snippets of content they relate to, all dumped into a google doc, creating an incomprehensible mess. I play around with it to try to get it organized and readable. Then I get stuck. Self-doubt visits. I can’t make this work. No one cares anyway. It’s stupid. People will roll their eyes.

Enter the elves — those supernatural creatures that inhabit the depth of our  subconscious — who do their magic to make sense of whatever we’re struggling with. They usually show up in the middle of the night or in the shower, sending me scrambling to get it all down before it disappears. Then, I’m off to the races. 

Length is a big pet peeve of mine. I get annoyed at how LONG that movie, book, or article was. Geez, it would have been so much better if they’d just cut stuff out. So after I get happy with each piece, I take a red pen to the extra words, especially those pesky adjectives.

MVPs

Some past posts are standouts — ”most valuable pieces”. They got a big response, and the “power tools” in them deliver over and over again in my work. Many posts this year will be encores of those, with a little updating.  

Just Do It

If there’s something you’ve been told you might think about doing, or you have a spark of an idea that won’t leave you alone, my little story shows you might just be on to something — something worth doing and sharing. I’ve been surprised at how much fun it’s been, and the best thing is getting notes and reactions from readers I sometimes haven’t connected with in years. I LOVE hearing from you, even if the feedback is “constructive”.  And, I appreciate the suggestions for stuff I should write about. Turns out there’s an endless supply of curated, useful ideas worth sharing, and I grow some brain cells doing it.

And if you’re thinking it’s too late, or too much trouble, Grandma Moses didn’t start painting until she was in her late 70’s. Just sayin’.

Sunday Morning: 177