Writer. Ad Sales and Marketing. Social Media Content Creator. Aeropress Coffee. Makes the best salsa in the world.

I’ve been reading (listening to) Peter Walsh’s Lighten Up, as I think I’ve mentioned a few times here. I’m on my second listen, in fact. I’ve asked (am forcing) my wife to read it. She picked up on one of his themes …dreams versus goals. She and I talked a little about them, and differentiating the two isn’t exactly easy.
Why?
I think it’s because sometimes a dream can start as a pipe-dream (something that could NEVER happen), but can evolve into a regular dream (something that COULD happen and some other people are doing it). Then, some “dreams” suddenly become ideas that need plans because they don’t seem all that far fetched and before you know it …poof …a dream has transformed itself into a goal and you had darn well better start taking steps toward that goal or you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.
Here’s a ridiculous “dream”: Someday I’m going to play point guard for an NBA team.
Why is that ridiculous? Because I’m 5’5″, I’m 40 years old, and I’ve never really played organized or competitive basketball. However, I love basketball. I love the NBA (not really, I mean, I used to, but the NBA is pretty boring, but still …playing point guard on an NBA team is about as outlandish a goal as I can come up with). Is my dream really to somehow be a part of the NBA, to work for a team, or the NBA itself? I’ll bet they have a careers section on their website if I looked. Or is my “dream” to play point guard and some basketball, for fun? Either way, the “dream” can suddenly adjust, be tweaked, and now either of those outlandish ideas can become “goals.”
I could coach a youth basketball team. Volunteer at a basketball camp by my house. Apply to be an assistant coach somewhere at a small local university or college. I could start a blog about basketball. I could join a team looking for players in a beer league, for starters. The list goes on and on.
If you have “dreams”, find a way to turn them into “goals.” My buddy Dennis suggested this road map for my “dreams”, recently. He suggested that today, I think of something I can do to forward my new business (write an email to someone, call someone, incorporate myself, sketch a business plan, created a list of potential customers, etc.). Or think of 3 things I can do by the end of the week and then do all of them by the end of the week. Then think of 5 things I can do in August and then do them all.
He’s 100% right. If you told me three years ago that by the end of 2013 I’d have four writing clients who pay me to write for them, and that I’d have a portfolio and writing resume that features a full length concert guide (book), multiple blogs, and various other articles, I’d have said, “oh, right, and maybe I’ll play point guard in the NBA someday, too.”
Dreams can become goals.
If you like Twitter and want to know when I think of something clever in the middle of the day, I’m at @donkowalewski.
I’m writing on the blog today to let you know I’m not writing on the blog today. How’s that for a riddle? People keep blogs for all sorts of reasons. This blog here? I’m going to journal my next 30-, 60-, and 90- days, my next six months, and all the months I’ll need to make it as a writer.
When you think about it, because I have a blog and a few writing clients, I’m already, technically, a writer. But you and I both know what I mean. I mean, I’m not yet a guy sitting in a coffee shop in Key West, plunking away on my Macbook secretly “making a living” writing articles for my clients, chapters for my next book, and asking other speakers, celebrities, and personalities if I can’t also write for them.
Yes. That’s the goal. Take the family to Key West. They go off and do Key West tourist-type stuff. I find a coffee place that serves dried bananas with my coffee. And I’m “at the office.”
It’s going to happen. My journey started Saturday morning after meeting with the way-smart D.J. Its’ funny …well, sad, actually …that he spelled it out so perfectly. I’m the only one who doesn’t believe in me.
#AmWriting #IBelieveInMe
“Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.” -Carl Bard
“Take time to reflect on your story–the story of your life. If not you may lose the thread of your life, your source of identity, and your purpose.” -Mustard Seeds
Also, I’ve kept a journal off and on since I was in high school. I usually used a typical spiral notebook or a composition journal, even though I knew Moleskins were the true, artsy, gold-standard. Lo and behold, Moleskin has a free app for iPad (and iPhone) and its brilliant and makes me feel snobby. I love it.
What’s a “chore” if you don’t actually dread doing it? My wife would tell you its a mental problem. For me, there’s something very relaxing about mowing the lawn, pulling weeds a little as I go, and taking great care to make sure the edging looks clean. Is it escapism? Is it pride? Is it because I’m cheap? I won’t say it’s one of those, “if you want a job done right, you have to do it yourself,” type things, because my lawn is certainly not a work of art (I follow a simple weed n feed schedule and struggle with summer blight and crab grass every damn year).
Definitely, I’m cheap. I still can’t bring myself to pay someone $30 for an hours worth of work, even if the trade off is recapturing an hour and a half of my time. Wait …let’s call it “fiscally responsible.” Maybe it’s because I was raised by a guy who always mowed his own lawn and had an incredible lawn. Like, perfect. He never outwardly obsessed over it, but my Dad had an amazing lawn. In fact, when we moved, he seeded our new lawn himself …and he did it without and underground sprinkler system. Now that I think back on that, that might be one of the most amazing things he ever did.
Yikes. Have you ever gotten elbow deep into a blog entry and forgot where the heck you were heading with it and the point you were trying to make?
I think I’m asking …do I mow my own lawn and wash, vacuum, and detail my own car because I’m cheap, because I’m fiscally responsible, or because it’s yet another “chore” I can do that allows me to escape and daydream? And if it’s the third reason, is that a bad thing?
No doubt, my kids will always start helping me wash the car, so it’s good bonding (but they get bored at about the 10-minute mark). When they see me mowing the lawn, I think its good for them to see me working and taking pride in my house, and they help by picking up sticks when I ask, or sweeping the clippings off the driveway. I tell myself that, if they don’t grow up to have Bill Gates’s or Lebron James’s bank accounts, they’ll remember, hey, they grew up without a lawn service, without weekly trips to Jax Car Wash, without a cleaning lady, and with parents who clipped coupons and took them to the cheap movie theater and snuck candy in that was purchased at the discount pharmacy around the corner?
That’s what I saw growing up, and I turned out all right(ish).
This week we started “chores”, “jobs”, and will begin paying out weekly allowances to all the kids, and maybe this will all reveal itself to be a genius master plan. Thoughts? That’s another blog entry.
I don’t know about you, but washing the car with the Tigers game blaring from the radio speakers on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon (minus the timeless voice of Ernie Harwell of course) is a vivid and beautiful memory of my Dad – or while he was tinkering in the garage on his work bench, or fixing something, or changing the oil on our cars. His lawns …again …another great memory and, in the case of the new lawn I mentioned above, amazement. So, while I’m not actively engaged with my kids while doing this stuff, and they simply ride back and forth in the street on their bikes while I mow, or they run around in the fresh cut lawn, or play in the yard while I mow, I’m there. Should I feel bad? Or is that almost as good as if I hired someone to cut the lawn and used that hour, instead, to ride my bike with them, or throw the football around?
For now, I’m going to keep washing my car, mowing my lawn, and doing my own landscaping, hedge trimming, gutter cleaning, and house washing …because I enjoy it. And maybe someday I’ll figure out why, exactly.
Do you like Twitter? Cuz I do. And I’m always around @donkowalewski.

As I was reminded on vacation, I have a dang good life. I reminded myself of that, anyway. I worry about things that aren’t truly, truly important. This blog has become some sorta sad and motivational head-trip. I’m sorry. All I really want to do it talk about The Bachelorette, coffee, my hair, and …well …me.
Thank you, book on CD …and thank you Peter Walsh and everything you’re programming into me in Lighten Up.
Am I the only man on Earth who cried while watching these past two weeks of The Bachelorette? I highly doubt it (even if some guys were crying because they can’t believe they’ve reached a point in life where they are transfixed by this show, which is totally a chick show).
My recap of the 2-part finale will be up on spunkybean, soon. Worry not.
Yesterday, someone said, “love your hair,” so, again …life is good.
Follow me @donkowalewski if you wanna do that Twitter thang.
I needed a vacation. I needed time with my kids and my wife. I needed to clear my head and stare at the water for a while. I needed to cruise around a lake on a pontoon without sunscreen while holding an icy cold and watered down beer in my hand.
It allowed me to re-focus. To reflect. To meditate. To ponder.
Today on Facebook and Twitter, I shared this quote…
“The purpose of our lives is to be happy.”
It was attributed to the Dalai Lama. Or maybe it was my uncle, last week. Well, Dalai Lama said it, but my uncle showed that it can be true. I’m not sure about everyone, but I get very, very sad when vacation comes to and end. I always do, but was more sad this time. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m inherently lazy and wish I could win the Powerball, or if it’s because I’m not happy with my purpose.
I don’t mean to say I expect life to be like a permanent vacation. I’m just saying, I think life could be (and maybe was) more fulfilling before and will be again.
“Love what you do and you’ll never work a day in your life.”
My semi-retired uncle said he always enjoyed vacation, but he never dreaded going back to work when it was over (except for a brief 15-month period when he had an impossible-to-win assignment). My dad, similarly, has always maintained that he enjoyed his 37 years more than he didn’t enjoy it …and the man worked 60 hours weeks in 100+ degree heat for years and spent years working a 2nd or 3rd shift and only briefly passing my mom in the hallway like ships in the night.
Is it about the work I do, or how I do it? This is what I pondered all week, and I came to a very clear and obvious answer. It was obvious to me, my wife, my old friends, and the sea gulls flying over the water.
This was a great vacation for many reasons. Mostly, because I got to spend every waking hour with my kids. Second, because I think I defined my purpose.
All day long I pick up the phone and call people who (a) don’t know me, (b) probably don’t want to talk to me, or (c) will be rude to me. And if I make 10 phone calls, 9 will end in disappointment. But that 1 good call …thrilling. Inspiring. It so far outweighs the other 9 calls that I think, “wow, what a rush …I’ll make 10 more calls right now!”
But only after I quick grab a coffee. And quick stop into my co-workers office to chat. And only after I return a few emails. And then, well, I’ll make those next 10 calls tomorrow.
Why I am afraid?
It’s not real fear. It’s not the fear you’d feel if a bear was chasing you through the woods. It’s not the fear you’d feel if your house was on fire and you couldn’t find one of your children.
In fact, I shouldn’t even call it “fear”, now that I think about it. A better way to describe it is “mildly uncomfortable.” But you know what? Before I pick up the phone, make a call, get ignored, thrown into voicemail, hung-up on, or someone tells me “no” or “not interested”, I’m a good guy. After I hang up the phone, I’m still a good guy. Before the call, my life is good. After the call, my life is good.
Why am I afraid?
The other night, I watched Jarhead. It freaked me out. It made me feel like a pretty big pansy, actually. Oh, boo, hoo, hoo …I make phone calls and sometimes people hang up on me. I try to sell stuff and sometimes people say, “no.” I need to get myself a copy of Jarhead and whenever I feel too uncomfortable, I’ll pop it in and remind myself for 200+ years, a buncha men have fought, died, and come back home injured or messed up in the head so I can sit around making phone calls all day, and the worst thing that might happen to me is that I’ll hear someone tell me “no” or hang-up rudely.
Why am I afraid?
For almost two years, I’ve been playing the “poor me” card about not being able to run because of my Bronchiactisis, but the truth is, I wasn’t doing anything. I wasn’t running. I wasn’t walking briskly. I wasn’t swimming. I wasn’t doing jumping jacks or sit-ups. Because of my lungs? It’s the excuse I used, but truthfully, I had no idea if running or heavy exercise would hurt me or not. Sitting and doing nothing was easy and ensured I wouldn’t feel “uncomfortable.”
Is that what stops all of us? I’ve read it countless places that “avoiding pain” is a stronger motivator than “finding joy” or “experiencing pleasure.”
In my life I’ve had moments of bravery, but never sustained. It’s time to put it all together. Write that book (even if it sucks when I’m done and people who read it tell me so …guess what …I’ll have written a book …and for sure, a half-dozen people will like it and be proud of me). Run those 5Ks (even if I do end up hurting my lungs again, maybe it will be a chance to have doctors look again and fix it for good, this time). Pick up that phone (knowing the person might hang up, but for goodness sake, just tell them what I’ve got and how awesome it is and show them how excited I am about it).
Do things. Are you afraid? Don’t be.
I’m 40 years old. You might’ve picked up on that if you’ve been reading my blog. It happens. I’m not having a full-blown mid-life crisis, but if a few more things happen, I could easily see myself spinning out of control.
But I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here to tell you all the good things turning 40 has unleashed into my life.
First, I’ve started running again. It feels GREAT. I’m running slowly at a 10-minute-mile pace (maybe 11 minutes), but I’m just so excited that I’ve logged 12 miles in the past 6 days and I’ve yet to cough up any blood. Oh, and I played a pretty intense few games of tennis against my wife. Again, no blood and no wheezing. If I can re-commit to fitness and my health for a year, only then will I know if I’m truly doomed to a life with a bloody-lung and I can only ever walk slowly or swim slowly, or maybe I can exercise again. And be healthy and live longer.
My sister (@MomRunsHalf) turned me onto this guy calling himself The Lung Warrior, and he inspired me, too. I’m going to do some P90X type exercises tonight indoors and tomorrow I’ll get up early and swim.
Second, I’ve begun a massive “de-cluttering” project. This was inspired by listening to a book on CD entitled “Lighten Up” by Peter Walsh. Wasn’t sure what to expect when I plopped this CD into my dashboard …I thought the guy was all about labeling file folders and organizing closets. But it was so much more and exactly what I needed right at this very moment. The book (audio book, in my case) is about de-cluttering your mind and learning to be happy with what you have. Living within your means. Budgeting. Figuring out happiness doesn’t come from possessions and having more than your friends or neighbors, but from the things money can’t buy. I’ll be listening to it again, but he asks more than a few times, if your home was about to be demolished, what would you remove from your home if you only had 1-minute? Of course, I’d save my wife, at least two of my kids, my iPad (ahem …yes …my iPad makes me that happy), and a few heirlooms. I had to think about those heirlooms, actually, and where they were.
He made another good point regarding “stuff”. Why do we have so much “stuff?” Books. DVDs. Ties. Shoes. Clothes. The list goes on and on. I couldn’t help but think about all the books I own, have read (or never read) and how they just take up space. Am I going to re-read them? Why do I have them? Why do I dust them and dust around them? Why do I have a drawer full of DVDs I haven’t watched in 3, 4, or 10 years? And are all these items filling up a to-do list in my brain I’ll never get to, and how is it effecting my behavior.
I’m sure I’m missing the point, but this is what it inspired in me …I sold and donated 44 books, quickly put together two grocery bags worth of clothes to donate, and I listed 6 things on CraigsList. It felt pretty good.
Third, and lastly, I watched the full 6-minute version of One Direction’s new video, “Best Song Ever.” I watched it at work, by myself, and I should apologize for that. But …I’m 40, and I’ll do whatever I want.
Written with OmmWriter for my MacBook Pro. I keep reading that writers can be more productive and creative in a “distraction free” environment and everyone was going crazy silly about OmmWriter.
I have a full time job. Selling stuff. I dream of being a writer. Well, I am a writer, but a part-time writer. With a day job. I dream of being a full-time writer who doesn’t need a day job. A writer who can just live off royalties and revenue from book sales. And then live off my advance and whatever a big Hollywood studio pays me for the rights to my book so they can make it into a movie.
This is your dream, too, right? Oh, make no mistake. If that day never comes, I’ll still be writing and I’m all good with that. But …a boy can dream, can’t he?
I’m writing at the airport. I’m using OmmWriter for my MacBook Pro because (a) it was pretty cheap and (b) writers RAVED about it. They said they liked the minimalist and distraction free writing environment, the soothing sounds it makes in your headphones when you’re hitting keys, and the soft, soothing music or ambient sound choices it gives you.
I know it makes little difference what I’m using to write, or how I’m writing, but this is a pretty sweet app-slash-Word Processor.
Consider this blog entry my endorsement of OmmWriter.
I’m sitting at an airport with nearly two hours to kill before my 6:45 flight, and then I’ll have 2 1/2 hours in the air. I can get alotta writing done during that time.
Here I am at the end of this fairly silly blog entry, but I’ll be dang’d if OmmWriter isn’t all that everyone says it is. I feel writery. I feel creative. And despite the massive amounts of commotion around me at the airport, including a guy wearing Chuck Taylors with dress khakis, a blue blazer, and a crips white button down shirt, I feel like I’m escaped to a wintery field while soft piano music plays in my ear and I’m focused.
Oh, I’m sure I’ll gush more about OmmWriter in the future. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish my Bachelorette recap for spunkybean.
Now I’m typing with a different sound. So cool.
Follow me on Twitter (@donkowalewski) or Instagram (don_kowalewski) or ‘Like’ Kaleidoscopic Raygun.
What is a mid-life crisis? I just turned 40, and I’ve had friends turn 40, and I’ve seen them kinda flip out. “That’s crazy,” I thought. “That won’t happen to me,” I arrogantly told anyone who would listen. I made some bold and easy rationalizations like, “I woke up yesterday and was 39, woke up today and I’m 40, and nothing’s changed. I have a great life. It was great yesterday, it’ll be great tomorrow.”
So why can’t I stop dwelling on the things I haven’t accomplished in my first 40 years, and why am I only focusing on the things I haven’t done and the dreams I dreamed and never explored?
Maybe that’s what a mid-life crisis is. Sure, 40 is just a number, but there’s something about not being able to say you’re a “man in his late 30s” that kinda messes with your mind. For one day, I was 40. Now, I’m simply a guy “in my early 40s” and I’m starting to make check-lists of things I’d like to do in the next decade.
That should be inspiring, right?
Except, when you reach 40, and if you think you’ll be blessed enough to live until you’re 80, well …you are officially at your “mid life” point. 40 years in the books, and 40 to go.
So, you start to make some lists, like …
And then you get panicky. You start thinking …80 years old? Holy!!! I won’t be able to do ANYTHING on this list after I turn 65, let’s be real, so I only have 25 years. And why haven’t I done the things on the list these past 25 years? I’m a failure. I’ve done nothing and have flaws I cannot fix and I’m doomed.
Bam. Mid-life crisis. Baked at 350-degrees for 40 years and it’s ready for serving.
I said I wasn’t going to have a mid-life crisis, and I won’t. I’m going to call it a mid-life “awakening” because if there’s anything all my self-help books and books-on-tape and motivational Ted talks have taught me, you can fix anything by calling it something different.
It’s not entirely true, but it makes sense. I’m not having “crisis.” I’m having an overwhelming sense of motivation and a major moment of clarity and inspiration and focus …and it just feels like a panic attack at times.
So? Are you ready? I’m about to sprint through my next 20, 30, and 40 years and make sure when I get there, I won’t have an end-of-life crisis.
On your mark. Get set. GO!
Love this quote … “top beating yourself up on those nights when you just want to sit your ass on the couch and watch reruns”. No, I’m not a chick, but I love a good Mommy Blog.