There is a huge difference between a job and vocation. A job is what we hold to earn money to meet economic demands. A vocation (from Latin vocatus, calling) is what we are called to do with our life’s energy. It is a requisite part of our individuation to feel that we are productive, and not responding to one’s calling can damage the soul.
The driveway moment: When a report or interview really works, you can tell and we can tell. We can, because the story hits the top of the most emailed list at NPR.org. You can tell, because the story keeps you pinned in your car, in a parking lot, in your driveway, or at the side of the road—as you wait to hear how the story will end. In letters and emails, listeners named these occurrences “driveway moments,” and say they look forward to them, even when it means being late for work or dinner. So that’s your goal: make some driveway moments.
I’m finally heading into NPR’s book, Sound Reporting, and this big of context included by Kernis in the Foreword got me thinking…
What are you doing so that you even know when you’ve put out a “driveway moment?”
It doesn’t matter at all if we feel it’s a driveway moment. It matters if our listeners think so. Are you paying attention to your listeners? Do you have multiple ways for them to connect back to you?
I do think about “driveway moments” when creating episodes. It’s difficult however, given the way that I create my work; They have to simply happen. If one wants to create them, that requires planning, work and editing.
For me, when I encounter a listener (virtually or in real life) the only question I ask them is…
Has any episode grabbed you? …any particular moment or image?
Are we restless and driven to explore, as Sagan says? Will going into space bring humanity together or will we simply bring inequalities and injustices with us? The idea of humans as benevolent explorers sits somewhere between two extremes: those who argue it is our “destiny” to “colonize” other worlds, and those who ask why we’re going into outer space at all.
We’re definitely going. Whether we like it or not, there are enough of us who are unable to not try to wander outside our little cave and over the next hill, sabertooth tigers or no. I think a much better question is: What have we lost, now that many (most?) of us are no longer in touch with the night sky. My answer: A lot. And if we continue and lose our curiosity entirely, everything.
I’ve had the insanely rare privilege of experiencing the real night sky on many occasions. (For one example, once in a very special place, on a moonless night, Mars cast my shadow.) In all my experiences, I still believe I’ve only glimpsed a part of my human heritage. What would we be like if we all were fully in touch with our heritage?
The sudÂden flashÂes of insight we have in states of medÂiÂtaÂtive distraction—showering, pulling weeds in the garÂden, driÂving home from work—often elude our conÂscious mind preÂciseÂly because they require its disÂenÂgageÂment. When we’re too activeÂly engaged in conÂscious thought—exercising our intelÂliÂgence, so to speak—our creÂativÂiÂty and inspiÂraÂtion sufÂfer. “The great Tao fades away.”
I really dislike Open Culture’s web site—modal dialogs, moving thinguses, distracting whatsits… but then, that’s what Reader Mode is for. :) Meanwhile, this was an interesting read just for the nugget of: It’s the distraction, stupid. As I read the bits about the Tao, I realized that—if I had read the Tao—I would not have read into the Tao sufficiently to get this point. (And of course, I’m presuming that Jones’s interpretation—or his reporting thereof, at least—is correct.)
There’s a secret that real writers know that wannabe writers don’t, and the secret is this: It’s not the writing that’s hard. What’s hard is sitting down to write. What keeps us from sitting down is resistance.
I’m reading Amy Sillman’s Faux Pas and when I was searching her name in the Podcasts app I came across this conversation with writer Sheila Heti.
People find your show because they are looking for something, or someone, very specific.
People are not just sitting around thinking, “I feel like a need a new podcast to listen to… maybe something that inspires me to move more…” And then they search for “movement inspiration” . . . and then they land on my Movers Mindset show. No that’s not at all how it works. People do not find our show.
People find ONE, SPECIFIC episode. That’s what Kleon did above.
Think of a guest, or a topic, which you did about a year ago…
Now search for that person or topic in your podcast player, or in a web search engine…
Did you find that one episode you were thinking of?
Because people do that. And only then does our show description, show title, show art, episode art, episode notes, and all our hard work gives them the chance to pick us.
[When you are asked to do the score for a film, what makes you say yes?] If it seems like it will be a challenge and fun, then of course I want to do it. Also if what is needed is not something that somebody else can do better than I can. There is a kind of more conventional soundtrack thing and if that’s what they are going for I’ll say, “You know, there are people that do this better than I do. You need to go to them.” But other people want to try something new. They want to try something maybe a little different.