Envy? Us?

A Bronze level “Jim Rohn 1-Year Success Plan” is $179, a Silver is $299, and a Gold is $499. A subscription to Success Magazine, a Jim Rohn publication, is about $35 for a year. Who was Jim Rohn?

Rohn was one of a long line of American entrepreneurs who sold plans and strategies for success and achievement and leadership in one’s field, whatever that may be. If you are a fan of Tony Robbins, you are a fan of Jim Rohn by extension. According to Robbins, Rohn was one of his mentors, and he got his start selling plans like the ones cited above. (I am agnostic on the topic of self-betterment entrepreneurs, but I am a believer in the grace and beauty of getting to know oneself, which is something that all successfulness sellers sell.)

Rohn died in 2009 at age 79 and left behind a self-improvement business empire. He also left us with many quotes, such as, “You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” And, “Don’t wish it were easier; wish you were better. Don’t wish for less problems; wish for more skills. Don’t wish for less challenges; wish for more wisdom.” And, “Don’t join an easy crowd. You won’t grow. Go where the expectations and the demands to perform and achieve are high.” And, “Success is what you attract by the person you become.” And last, “The ultimate expression of life is not a paycheck. The ultimate expression of life is not a Mercedes. The ultimate expression of life is not a million dollars or a bank account or a home. The ultimate expression of life is living a good life.” (Apparently Rohn was a big believer in the rule of three.)
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Drip, Drip … Petrichor!

A 1964 article in Nature with the euphonious title, “Nature of argillaceous odour,” gave the world the not-as euphonious-sounding word, “petrichor.” In it, two researchers attempted to scientifically describe what it is we smell when we smell the world after a rain shower and to give it a name.

The two authors coined the word, “petrichor,” which I have been mispronouncing in my head since I first encountered it last year, when an article on the Huffington Post started making its social media rounds. It has a long “I,” so say it like this: “petra,” then “eye-core,” which is not how I hear it in my head, with a short “i.”
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Walking on My Face

I bear a scar from the first Valentine’s Day that I had a reason to celebrate as Valentine’s Day, as a part of a couple. Until my current relationship, my romantic history was a long walk alone in an empty field, punctuated by moments in which I interrupted someone else’s walk, attempted to try a relationship, and discovered that I try people’s patience instead. (All the women I have dated are brilliant and accomplished and I was lucky to get to know them; I was stuck at age 15 for an astonishingly long time, however.)

My love right now, my soul mate, Jen, is quite brilliant and accomplished, and for the first time in my life, almost four years now, I am an equal partner and have opened myself up to having an equal partner. Not too bad for a 47-year-old 15-year-old.
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