In my last post, I introduced 5 crucial Career Facts and I elaborated on the first item in that list. This post expands on the second of those 5 facts:

Fact No 2: You can do it.

The myth goes… Success requires the right combination of luck, good breaks, and knowing the right people.

The truth is, you will chance upon a lucky break, and you will get to know the right people, once you believe in yourself, once you believe that you deserve it, once you believe you can do it.

It all come down to power—maybe a better term is mastery, or resolve, or kismet. However you choose to label it, it’s defined by a curious, mysterious, hard-to-explain trait that enables you to believe that you control your own destiny.

Now here’s something I find curious.  You and I,  I’m willing to wager, all know someone who exudes mastery, someone who’s going places, someone who has that indefinable power. You and I see it in others, and  the reason we do is, for some perverse reason, it’s easier to see it in them  than it is to recognize it in ourselves.

Have you noticed how easy it is to promote someone else’s business? Have you noticed that it’s easy to talk of someone else’s talent, someone else’s accomplishments, someone else’s mastery and power? And yet when it comes to blowing our own horn, we stumble, we trivialize or we otherwise tone down our inherent abilities. Why is that? Modesty? Shyness? Or is it an inability—an unwillingness—to recognize, really recognize, (and then broadcast) our potential, our power?

Sure, go ahead, recognize and encourage the power you see in others,  but remember that no one’s cornered that market. Remember that you have as much power as anyone else. It’s there, within you, and all you have to do is tap into it. Remember one other fact too; it’s a myth that the universe in conspiring against you. It’s a myth that people are standing in your way. What’s true, though, is the one person standing in your way is you.

Case study: My wife and I attended a concert one night. An iconic guitarist was in town, and he did not disappoint. Driving home, my wife marvelled at the guitarist’s talent. I had to agree, he was a brilliant musician. But I also had to suggest there were, sitting in that audience, watching that show, dozens of equally talented guitarists, countless gifted musicians, artists, thinkers, entrepreneurs and leaders. And the sad fact was that too many of them didn’t see their own mastery, their own power. Or, if they did, they were afraid, unwilling, to reveal it.

Imagine, just imagine, the wonders you will create once you believe that you can do it.

More on this:  You can read more about this topic here.

Tomorrow: Fact 3: It’s not about the money

Yesterday: Fact 1: It’s what you think that’s important

Ideas? Suggestions? Questions? Please leave me a comment.

I’m reading one of the many books gifted to me just days ago

Written by Jowi Taylor, the book is Six String Nation.

And it’s put me in a strange sort of spirit—a somewhat-patriotic, partly-fingerpicking, moitié-melancholy vibe.

If you play music, you’ll understand the fingerpicking thing.

The book, after all, is about a guitar.

Not any guitar, mind.

More an object, forged from culture and history, that becomes something more than a guitar

That becomes an instrument of whimsical, identifiable, bare-bones, back-to-the-roots Canadian identity.

It is the essence of this book.

One guy (Taylor) getting another guy (George Rizsanyi) to build a definitive A-Mari-usque-ad-mare guitar, called Voyageur.

Six String Nation

Little importance where you’re from—me? Montreal—it’s difficult not to connect with this guitar.

I mean, wafered gold from a Rocket Richard Stanley Cup ring adorns the 9th fret; a portion of a Montreal Forum seat  licks at the sound hole; a section of Pierre Trudeau’s canoe paddle controls tone and projects volume.

I could go on.

There’s wood from Lucy Maud Montgomery’s house—and Wayne Gretzky’s hockey stick; a section of floor beam from Jack London’s cabin; a swatch from Pierre Berton’s tie.

There’s the only wedge ever sectioned from the mystical Haida golden spruce; a segment of rafter from Pier 21; oak from Winnipeg’s oldest building; part of a frame that once belonged to a Toronto Group of Seven artist…

See what I mean?

The book—and the guitar—and the project—captures the imagination and restores the soul in a way that is resoundingly creative, uniquely innovative and downright inspirational.

The book touches my heart.

It truly does.

Does that, then, explain my melancholy?

Not at all.

It’s because Jowi Taylor was in town

Mere weeks ago

Speaking at a tedx event I didn’t attend.

But that’s not it either.

He was also, later in the evening, at a party, a celebration, a wrap

And he brought Voyageur with him—for all to experience.

I was there

In the room.

Only earlier.

I arrived too early and—damn my impatience—left too soon.

Why?

Because it was a shitty night; a Sunday, bad weather, crummy drive into town, lots to attend to the next morning, and—like I said—because of unrestrained impatience.

So I missed meeting Jowi Taylor, and strumming on Voyageur.

Hence my funk.

Resulting in

Another lesson learned…

Nothing to do now

But get back to the book.

While walking up one aisle, then down another, ogling one intricate design after next, I got to thinking of the talent, imagination and artistry that goes into guitar-making. It’s sort of like writing a book, I guess (although, given I’ve never built a guitar, I really don’t know for sure. And, anyway, thinking back on my blatant ineptitude in high school woodworking class, you wouldn’t want to see me even attempt the task).

But after arriving home late last night and after collapsing into bed, I immediately approached that not-quite-awake-but-not-yet-asleep state, the one that had me slowly replaying images of those magnificent instruments. That’s when I knew for sure, just before drifting away. Yep, guitars are like books. Here, let me show you a few examples.

Daddy Mojo Guitar

I don’t know about you, but this interesting work of art (and my best friend, Nino’s hands-down favourite) reminds me of an outlaw. And when I think of outlaws, I think of Elmore Leonard. I didn’t get to try this instrument, but I bet it plays just like one of his books reads—edgy, maybe a bit off-balanced, and always intoxicating.

Benoit Maillette

A Benoit Maillette electic guitar–can you picture Gene Roddenberry writing about space travel, modeling USS Enterprise prototypes,  and somehow coming up with something like this? Well I can.

Fabrizio Alberico

What this photo only hints at is the level of craftsmanship and the attention to detail that Fabrizio Alberico lavishes on his work. Every feature is carefully thought through, every component artistically crafted and lovingly assembled. If you’ve read David Adams Richards’ The Friends of Meager Fortune, you’ll know what I mean.

John Monteleone

A  John Monteleone guitar is like an Ayn Rand novel, especially Atlas Shrugged. Big, bold and mysterious.

Peter Malinoski

Hunter S Thompson. For sure.

——————

I’m out of town for about a week, away from computers, wi-fi, cell phones and the other accoutrements of modern living. I’ll report back soon. Thanks for reading my blog.