Walk in the Woods

Nik Curfman 5/31/21 Nik Curfman 5/31/21

Journal: #294 Happy Memorial Day: We Owe Them

On this Memorial Day, I choose to celebrate the men and women who gave their lives to protect us. I honor their commitment to defend the United States. We have the luxury of having an idiot government because of them. To all our soldiers: I hope we can create a country you are proud to defend and come home to. You deserve it.

There’s a part of me who will always remain an idealist. I’ll read the Constitution with wonder and pride, then imagine what could’ve been. The simplicity and elegance of the law will inspire me to believe in the best of government. My inner child will dream of a better future in America. May that boy live forever. The older I grow, the more effort I need to “love my country.” I need that little boy to remind me of what’s possible.

As disappointing as our government is, our military is proof some of it works. (Unless you forgot, the military is a government program.) What blows my mind is how imperfect our military. Nearly every enlisted man had a lying recruiter. Officers can be as petty as a cat. And finally, we have the wars we send our boys into. Through all of that, our armed forces remain a beacon of freedom.

Whenever I hear people talk about foreign militaries, I laugh. China may have millions of soldiers, and Russia is proud of its new toys. I don’t give a rat’s ass. Gimme a pissed-off redneck from West Virginia who survived Parris Island over ten men from any other army. Not only that, how much combat experience do the Chinese or Russians have? The answer is not much. China was recently sent packing by India during a border dispute. The defeat was so humiliating, the general was sacked the next day. With all due respect to India, China ain’t ready.

Nik Curfman 5/30/21 Nik Curfman 5/30/21

Journal: #293 Zacharias and Elizabeth

As I read this story today I am reminded of two powerful truths. One, God is faithful. He hears our cries and anguish. Life is a challenge and walking with Him is the only way to make sense of it. Two, the Lord has a plan. And, it’s good. John the Baptist was the one who prepared the way for Jesus. It was the Lord’s timing he is born when he was, just before the birth of Jesus.

“[h]e has seen fit to take away my disgrace before men.”
- Elizabeth, Cousin of Mary, Aunt to Jesus

Crazy shit happens in life. Our loved ones die, businesses collapse, and technology keeps us moving. Much of life is beyond our control and appears to lack reason or purpose. I’m sure that’s how Zacharias and Elizabeth felt when they produced no children after a few years of marriage. Go read Luke 1. Zacharias is a public figure, a priest. Elizabeth is a known woman in Jerusalem, her empty womb a topic of conversation. She calls herself ‘disgraced’ by men for her lack of fruit. (Sadly, many women still feel this way when they cannot get pregnant.) Then the angel appears to Zacharias and everything changes.

As I read this story today I am reminded of two powerful truths. One, God is faithful. He hears our cries and anguish. Life is a challenge and walking with Him is the only way to make sense of it. Two, the Lord has a plan. And, it’s good. John the Baptist was the one who prepared the way for Jesus. It was the Lord’s timing he is born when he was, just before the birth of Jesus.

If you’re like me, you ask “why couldn’t it happen any other way?” It’s a smart question without a satisfying answer. (The answer is always because it did.)

Recently, I’ve asked the Lord “why” about several events in my life. The answer is always because it did. What I choose to hold onto is what Zacharias held onto- God is good. Zacharias stuck to his calling and walked with God. It’s a glorious story. Very often, we want a pain-free life. We want answers. These are normal human responses- even Zacharias questioned the angel— but they are not faithful responses*. Faith is rising every day to say, “Lord, I’m here. Your will be done.”

*Doubt is not a sin.

Nik Curfman 5/29/21 Nik Curfman 5/29/21

Journal: #292 My Future, My Present

My progression isn’t going to be smooth. But, I have a built-in source of encouragement. This blog is nearly a year old. While I would love more readers, I worked past the need for outside validation. I want my writing to be engaging and honest. I want it to give value to the reader beyond me. Eleven months in, I am closer to that goal than ever. I’m stoked for year two. If I look at trading and creating with the same patient eyes, the next year will be rough but worth it.

I have a picture of success, and it’s not me— not what I look like today. In my mind, I’m sipping coffee from a mug(something I never do), dressed in trendy business casual clothes, and confident. I trade stocks in the morning and create art in the afternoon. Somewhere between those two professions, I sneak away to write or have coffee with a friend. My community recognizes my expertise which leads to many such beverage meetings. Eventually, I make my way home to the farm outside Redding. The drone of the day fades as I focus on my family. My wife sips wine and recalls her day as I make dinner. Our toddler is busy turning the living room into a hellscape of toys and overturned furniture.

That picture is devoid of many important aspects of my life, such as time spent with the Lord and miracle opportunities. It doesn’t include texting my mom, the moments I check Reddit or one-off projects. Also missing are the strains of life— inevitable bad news, random jerks, and the normal aches of being human. Maybe the wife doesn’t want to have sex, again, and I deal with the rejection. Or perhaps the county planning board declined my plans to develop my farm. Bastards. (Shasta County is conservative by California standards but not by Southern standards.) Then there’s the missionary couple staying in one of our guest homes. They are young and demanding. A light bulb broke, so I head out to change it. However, I don’t know why they can’t do it.

My reality on May 29th, 2021, seems very distant from the picture in my head. Today, I slept in before lazily making my way to an empty office. I intended to further my day trading education, which I did. Additionally, I opened my trading account on Trade Station. Later today I will complete several drawing lessons as well as the homework for each. No wife or girlfriend. No coffee with friends. No farm. I exist in the gap, the space from between where I was and where I want to be.

I sometimes forget how big my life shifts are. I’m learning new skills and developing a brand new type of self-discipline. Ultimately my success* as an investor or artist depends entirely on my work. Both professions are brutal for beginners; therefore, I must prepare to suffer. It’s only reasonable to do so. The Nik of May 2022 will be unlike the Nik of 2020 or before. He’ll be closer to the man in the picture described at the top, but not quite. I’ll continue to learn and grow as a writer, investor, and artist. The plans for the coming year also include some dates. I could have a girlfriend by then too^. Wouldn’t that be wild?

The reason I wrote this blog is to remind myself of what I want, where I am, and where I will be. I’ll end by remembering where I was a year ago. On May 29th, 2020 I was sent home sick from work. Stress and anxiety attacked my stomach as work and a failing relationship weighed on my heart. I was afraid to admit what I wanted for my life and tired of failure. The watershed moment came when I dropped to my knees and cried out to the Lord “I can’t do this anymore. Take my life. It’s yours. I’m done trying to make things happen.” Despite the disappointment to follow, the Lord heard and acted on my prayer. He took my life, loved me back to a stable place, and showed me all the forgotten treasure in my heart. It was sweet and amazing. I would not change a single second of what happened.

Today, I’m further up the trail than ever before, the gap not as wide as it was, thanks to the kindness of God.

*Success can be defined in a number of ways. As an investor success will be tied to the ability to support me and my family. As an artist, it will be tied to productivity, not sales.

^Relationships require two people. Of course, I hope to have a girlfriend soon, but whether she stays is not in my hands.

Nik Curfman 5/27/21 Nik Curfman 5/27/21

Journal: #291 Purpose In Our Suffering

Today, I’m still reeling a bit from that download. What do I do with it? I’m not sure. What I have is a greater sense of the Lord, His sovereignty, and grace. Regardless of how my mind tries to fit this new information into my brain, I’m glad the Lord told me. There’s purpose in our suffering if we choose the Lord in the midst of it. (And after.)

I don’t like reading the Old Testament. The Lord is angry, and the people are dumb. From Genesis to Malachi, we read about the “Children of God” and their constant struggle to uphold the commandments handed down to them. Then we have the Psalms, which I find depressing. (Not all of them, of course.) Chapter after chapter is full of lament and shame (not unlike my blog- yes, I’m self-aware.)

Thank God for the Gospel of Matthew. If you’ve ever read through the Bible, everything changed when Jesus arrived. The genocidal God of Abraham and Joshua is gone, replaced by a loving Father. We are reminded of what the most important commandment is:

Jesus said, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence.’ This is the most important, the first on any list. But there is a second to set alongside it: ‘Love others as well as you love yourself.’ These two commands are pegs; everything in God’s Law and the Prophets hangs from them.” - Matthew 22:37

Jesus, earlier in Matthew, goes beyond this. He also commands us to love our enemies and pray for those who hurt us— a radical idea even now. Altogether we learn love is the answer because that’s how our Father treats us. This concept meshes well with my sense of order and peace. Why can’t we all just get along?

Over the last three years, I largely ignored the Old Testament. As discussed above, it doesn’t suit my idea of God. (And, I hate when people use obscure Old Testament scripture to justify the election of Trump. It’s a manipulation of the highest order, and many Christians bought into it.) Why would He harden Pharaoh’s heart? Up until yesterday, I would’ve argued He didn’t. Then, yesterday happened.

Without going into details, the Lord told me the reason behind some recent events in my life. In particular, He told me about His part in them. The big point being, the Lord hardened some heart around me. His goal was to have me to Himself. The thing is He was sweet and kind. He knew I was finally able to hear it. And He didn’t mince words or pull punches.

I find myself both sad and grateful for a God so loving and kind, he’s willing to hurt my feelings for what’s best for me. It’s the kind of revelation that stops life and shifts my perspective a bit. But, there’s more to it than that. Then the Lord told me why, as in why He kept me for Himself. It’s because my family (in the Great Cloud of Witnesses) asked Him to keep me. They asked the Lord to walk me through the kind of life they would live given the opportunity to live again on Earth*. Again, my mind was blown. Again, I was sad and grateful.

*If you think it’s wacky, cool. I’m not asking for acceptance or preaching this from a podium. This is my life, and I will be honest it how it is lived.

Nik Curfman 5/27/21 Nik Curfman 5/27/21

Abstract: Cooking Is Easy

There was a day when I was a boy,

I covered raw chicken wings in mustard, ketchup, and grated parmesan cheese.

In my mind, I was halfway to culinary perfection,

as I shoved the concoction into the microwave with ease.

There was a day when I was a boy,

I covered raw chicken wings in mustard, ketchup, and grated parmesan cheese.

In my mind, I was halfway to culinary perfection,

as I shoved the concoction into the microwave with ease.

After the ding, I inspected my monster,

to find a watery, half-cooked mess.

It was my first cooking lesson,

the beginning of a life-long quest.

That moment, 30 years ago,

remains fresh in my mind.

An eager child learned a cruel truth,

cooking is not simple or kind.

As a man, I can sear, sous vide, and grind,

chop, clean, and brine.

I know salt causes amino acid chains to unwind,

and great veggies are hard to find.

My pantry holds sesame seeds and yeast flakes,

my fridge- sriracha and miso paste.

I own dog-eared cookbooks from China, Thailand, and Italy,

of all them full of tasty treats.

I started as the worst and most unintuitive of cooks,

one who tried to fry chicken in vinegar and cooked ham on a kerosene heater.

So why do I doubt my ability to learn or do anything?

Why do I cry when I draw or doubt my mind?

It’s worth a laugh and an eye roll to consider.

I am what I believe I am,

Whether it’s a lie or legitimate.

So on this day,

Late in May,

I will finish my cheesy pros and say,

I learned to cook, and now I’ll learn to create.

Nik Curfman 5/26/21 Nik Curfman 5/26/21

Journal: #290 Day 1 of the Rest of My Life

The fear of a thing is always greater than the reality of the thing. I’m drawing, from the comfort of my apartment, with nothing on the line. DRAW-ING. But, before my lesson, I was in tears. At the moment, I would’ve donated a kidney rather than put pencil to paper. Isn’t that strange? Seriously. WTF? I made it, though. One day down, the rest of my life to go.

My post yesterday was, in part, a stall tactic. The average journal post is 350-500 words, and yesterday’s was almost 1000. I knew when it was complete; I had nothing left to do but draw. It was nerve-wracking. And why? Where was the artistic gusto and flare from last August? I know not. Still, after dinner, a long walk, and some time on my phone, I sat down to draw.

For a bit of a structure boost, I bought an online drawing course through Udemy. (It’s a great platform with lots of low-cost classes covering a wide range of subjects. BTW, never pay full price. There’s always a discount.) The course contains 17 units, about 20 minutes in length. Even an act as simple as starting the first video brought me to tears. It’s embarrassing.

Within the first five seconds, I'm hooked. The course instructor- Brent Eviston- began the lesson by discussing the talent myth. (The talent myth is the idea some people are more qualified to do something than others. Of course, some people are more mentally or physically able to do certain tasks, but that doesn’t mean shit.) He went on to talk about how drawing is a skill, and like any skill, anyone can learn it. Brent’s approach is exactly what I need to hear.

After Brent’s reassurance, he discussed lines all types of lines. Then he mentioned real artists like Degas and Michelangelo. They used soft imperfect lines too. This was a subtle yet powerful teaching tool. Art and its creation are often seen as magic—artists revered as gods, and their work a type of miracle. Mr. Eviston erased that gap in minutes without hype or rancor. I loved it. He brought the greats down to my level.

The video ended with an assignment to draw lines for 30 minutes. So I did. It was glorious. I drew short lines, long lines, circles, and a face. The goal was to do the work rather than create. I filled four pages with lines over my 30 minutes. And then, I felt it- the unburdened itch to do. After months of shame and self-pity, the most simple of desires resurfaced in my gut. Thanks be to God.

(The tree above is a doodle from this afternoon. It’s my first one in months.)

Nik Curfman 5/25/21 Nik Curfman 5/25/21

Journal: #289 Time to Dive In

And what if I fail? What if I lose the money I saved for trading stocks and stock options? What if I suck as an artist, and my writing never improves? What if I miss God? What if I should’ve been a pastor or worked for a non-profit? What if I spend my entire life in bullshit jobs and bullshit careers and miss my calling?

Seriously, I’m glad I learned to walk before I was afraid to fall.

Most of my posts of the last 2-3 months are vague. Today is the day I dive into what’s in front of me and how I plan to attack it.

Last May, I was dumped by a woman I loved, then dumped by my business partner. These were external events beyond my control. Correspondingly, I spent the summer of 2020 confronting fear and letting go of sorrow. I had to confront the defeat rather than allow it to drag me down. In tears, I wondered the neighborhoods and forests of north Redding. Through the heat and loneliness, I went after my pain in prayer. I admitted my weakness, and gave the Lord permission to love me. Eventually, my tears dried, and I’d find peace or a joyful laugh. It was good practice for this summer. It’s one thing to overcome the dismissal and judgment from others, but I find it harder to fight myself. (The lies we tell ourselves are the strongest to confront.)

Our hearts and minds commit the biggest sins when threatened. All human suffering and violence begins as a lie. Adam and Eve, Cain and Able, the Crusades, 9/11, shitty immigration policy: all our destruction spews from the idea we are under attack. We hide or murder. We build walls and create enemies where none exist. For most of us, we do not worry about food supplies, shelter, or actual war. It’s the gift of political and technological advancement. Despite our inventions, the old desires- to run, hide, and destroy- remain.

My natural inclination is to avoid confrontation, which might shock a few people who know me. Believe it or not, I’m not a fan of arguments or division. I’m not a war/murder/destroy type. Life is precious regardless of offense or crime. One big difference between most peace-loving folks and me is this. I accept the need for confrontation and discussion. (As Jordan Peterson says, “conflict delayed is conflict multiplied.” Most of us instinctively understand this, but we hedge anyway.) Our problem isn’t knowing our hurts or opinions; it’s in the fear we cultivate over the fight. Currently, I think I’m better at confronting others than myself. I’d rather hide, so I do. I’m the kind of person who would eat the fruit, sew the fig leaves, and hide from the Lord.

At this point, you are probably wondering what I need to confront. It’s a good question. I think I’ve written about as much as possible without specifics. Here’s the answer:

I’m confronting my ancient fear of failure and perfection. It’s not enough to do something. I want to be the best at it. And it’s gotta impact the world. In those three phrases lay a slew of insight into who I am. First, I’ll write a phrase, then translate.

It’s not enough to do something. My value is in what I do, not in who I am. Production is what’s most important as a man.
I want to be the best at it. It’s not enough to work and go home. Without greatness, I am a fallen tree without sound. It’s as if I didn’t exist.
And it’s gotta impact the world. Ah yes. Not only must do something and be the best at it but it’s gotta change the world. No worries.

Seriously, I’m glad I learned to walk before I was afraid to fall. Fortunately, I don’t think this way in all areas of my life. The success I had getting past my breakups is something to build on. On occasion, the sting is still there, but I know how to motor past it. In fact, I’ve been more successful over the 12 months than what is apparent. In business, my health, finances, relationships, writing, and with Jesus, I’ve excelled. I’m miles ahead as a digital marketer compared to May 2020. These are no small wins either.

My next step is to do what I do now with writing and walking. I need to draw and practice investing every day. It’s that simple. The desires of my heart, the true Godly desires, aren’t about fame, worth, or value. They are about me being the unique expression of God. My DNA isn’t merely physical. I (and you) have a spiritual DNA breathed into us from the beginning. That’s why none of us, regardless of history or failure, is a piece of shit. We may feel like shit, but we are not shit. We are good because He is good. Our ultimate calling is to manifest our reflection of God.

Think about that last sentence, “Our ultimate calling is to manifest our reflection of God.” It’s a heady statement, but one, I believe. I am not called to be a minister or a sacrifice. I am called to be me. The fullness of my life is complete as I embrace what is good and faithful. In this process, ministry happens, lives change, and the glory of the Lord revealed. My task is to be me, not the “Christian standard” of manliness.

I’m going to finish this post, make a smoothie, go for a walk, then sit my ass down at the drawing table. It’s time to dive in.

By the grace of God go I.

Nik Curfman 5/24/21 Nik Curfman 5/24/21

Journal: #288 Welcome to the Show

I feel like a kid at the top of the high dive. I want to jump, feel the wind on my cheeks, and splash into the water below. Not only that, but I want to do it well. It’s not enough to leap; I want to do it with style and grace. But that’s not how life works. We’ve got to learn to be scared and alone as we face our fears. No one can do it for us. For the next three months, my task is to learn to jump, be foolish, and look like an amateur.

I am sitting on my couch, looking out the sliding glass door. There are clouds in the sky, which means we are in for a show as the sunsets beyond the mountains. The fading light will catch the nooks and crannies, cast long shadows across the back, and reveal the beautiful red and violet hues of each cloud. These magical sunsets are part of what makes Redding a great place to live, and today might be one of the last days to see one for a while. Once summer arrives, in full force, the clouds will disappear until autumn. I try not to take little moments like this for granted.

Earlier today, my friends Jess and Rob were over for a final visit. Over salads from Chick-Fil-A, we chatted about food and flights, the smaller details of life. It’s their last visit for a while, and I will miss them. My friendship with Jess is twenty years old, and she’s been my backbone through some of the roughest moments of recent life. She took me to the Emergency Room two years ago when I went into shock. And last year, as my world burned, Jess and Rob let me spend many tearful afternoons on their couch. So, I’m not overstating it to say they’ve been with me in some of the darkest hours of my life here in Redding. At times I truly believe the Lord sent them to Redding for me. Just for me. Not joking. Tomorrow Jess and Rob will board a flight back to Texas, the place they call home.

The Lord is good, and He knew I needed to see Jess and Rob before summer hits. Just being in their presence is a blessing, and they always encourage me to grow with God. It’s the best kind of friendship. I’ll miss them, but it’s time for me to grow up. 2021 was uneven, and that’s ok. I don’t expect perfection from myself- or others. I battled shame for a few months, anger, and anxiety too. Compared to last year- when I was motivated to impress a girlfriend and then an ex-girlfriend- the old habits seem to provide more comfort. But I know better. I know I’ve got to take care of myself, love myself, and do the hard things. I’ve got to write, create, and push my vocational boundaries. I need adventure, chaos, and meaning. As amazing as my friends are, they can’t give me what I need. It’s between Jesus and me.

Eventually, I won’t be if I’m willing to try. And I am more than willing. I’ve tried everything else. Foolishness is my only option and path. Next stop: Amature hour. Staring me. Welcome to the show.

I know this post is a bit rambly. When I started writing, I didn’t have anything to say. I found the words as I wrote. Thanks for bearing with me.

Nik Curfman 5/23/21 Nik Curfman 5/23/21

Journal: #287 Lessons From EZ Company

I’ll end this short post with this: Just like EZ Company, I am weary and disheartened. But sooner or later, I’ve got to drive the enemy from the next town. And I’m the only one qualified to do it. I’m the toughest bastard in my life, and I know I’ll win.

There’s a scene in Band of Brothers, during Easy Company the Battle of Bulge, when the soldiers debate their next step. Some of the men hoped to be taken off the front, while others knew better. As Bill Guarnere put it, “See that town[Foy] over there? It’s full of people called Germans. And guess who they are gonna want to go knocking on the goddamn front door?” It turns out Wild Bill was right. After taking heavy casualties holding the line, Easy Company received the order to storm Foy, just north of Bastogne. The men were weary and cold. They were also the toughest bastards in Europe. Of course, they were asked to take Foy, which they did.

I think about that scene and the very real moment it portrays. The troops in the Easy Company of the 101st Airbourne were battered and broken. The Battle of the Bulge took out half the company. Then, they marched forward. Feels a lot like life. The next day comes, no matter what we do to delay or postpone it. It’s how my life feels today. I’m fighting fear and insecurity. And, there’s no rest. Tomorrow, I will march into the next engagement, whatever it is. Thankfully, I’m not battling well-trained German soldiers. I’m fighting me and all the bullshit between me and my destiny.

Thanks be to God.

Nik Curfman 5/22/21 Nik Curfman 5/22/21

Journal: #286 Remember the Wins

Soon, I’ll be the boss. All the deadlines will be mine, and all the work will come from my hands. I’ve got to grow from where I am today to get to where I want to be. It starts with the little things and the mental prep. To defeat imposter syndrome, I will remind myself to have fun and be patient. Then, I will celebrate my wins. This moment is what growth looks like, fumbling hectic growth. And the Lord is with me every step of the way. Thank God.

I am not the type of person to keep trophies or remember wins. It follows I rarely pause to consider completed goals or hard-fought accomplishments. Pride, after all, is a sin; thus, pride in one’s achievements is a sin. Tis’ a very Anglo-Saxon way to live life. Celebrate nothing. Dissect what didn’t work. Perfect the next attempt. What else is there but the relentless pursuit of unattainable perfection? A lot is the answer. There’s a lot of incredible awesomeness to life outside of work and accomplishment. There’s also more within the world of action and doing stuff.

The second issue I will consider is my penchant for changing jobs and/or careers. While I spent most of my adult life in and out of restaurants, I have yet to spend enough time in one position to master it. I am constantly learning a new skill set, in a new industry- marketing, sales, operations, logistics, production, customer service, etc.

This habit of flipping jobs left me a cliche- a Jack of many trades and skills but no expert. My job cycling gave me a broad skill set but no depth. Anyone looking for an expert for a job will skip over my resume. It’s a jumble of randomness. I understand why, but it doesn’t help when new projects go to people with ‘more experience.’

Now, let’s add the two issues together. I am trying to perfect my work while beginner at it. It’s a setup for self-condemnation and heartache. When I transitioned from a catering company to digital marketing, I went through months of imposter syndrome. Every day I am forced to learn new software, design marketing assets, and track results. So…not only must I create a strategy and install it, I’ve got to track it. How many of us do that?

I can’t count the number of days I wanted to crawl in a hole last winter. Even when I pulled off minor miracles- like designing an entire website in two days because my developer bitched out- I felt no relief. I’m blessed to work with a crew of kind people. They encourage me when I need it. Early this year, they stuck with me while I powered through some challenges. As of now, I’m happy with my abilities and work performance. Naturally, I’m ready to move onto the next adventure.

My next thing is for the long haul, I believe. Like all other jobs, I’m a beginner, learning a new set of skills in a new industry. The huge difference is I do not have a team of people to pat me on the back when I feel like an imposter. The worlds of art and day trading are almost entirely solitary in nature, so I will rise and fail on my merit. Any success will be a reflection of my time and dedication to the crafts. It’s scary.

I will need to develop mental toughness to endure the dark days of being a creative and/or trader. The days are coming when I lose big chunks of money and hate what my hands create. If I can’t handle it, I’ll fold. Patience, grace, and a sense of humor will be crucial to my success. But, there’s something else. I need to celebrate my wins too.

In 2010, I enrolled at a community college before finishing my degree at a four-year school. After the spring semester, I maintained a sparkling 4.0-grade point average. I expected to do so. My thrilled roommate decided we should celebrate with drinks at our favorite pub. I was slightly embarrassed at his suggestion but couldn’t refuse a free pint. At the pub, we clinked our glasses in a toast to my perfect GPA as patrons watched.

I have rarely celebrated my wins, which is a sin. Celebration is, in its purest form, gratitude. If I can exclaim and shout for someone, I need to do the same for me. I am worth celebrating. Given the path ahead, I will have many rough days. I need to maintain a place of gratitude in my work and sculptures I finish. Accordingly, I added a new mental task to each day. Yesterday, I began to take a minute to review my wins from the day/week/month/year. It’s odd but empowering. I am not my failure.

What I love about this lesson is it was the Lord who told me to do this. In prayer earlier this week, I complained about my focus. It’s always on the negative or unfinished task. Very cooly, the Lord asked me, “what did you do well this week?” I rattled off a few work-related wins and a new poem I liked. Then, and suddenly, I saw myself from a broader perspective. Yes, I failed in some areas this week, but I also excelled. Consider the following: My emails brought our client new leads; my ads did too. These actions helped a company grow and create new jobs. That’s pretty cool.

Nik Curfman 5/20/21 Nik Curfman 5/20/21

Journal: #285 It’s Simple

Cliche as it is to say, God is so good. He is the answer, not what is Nik going to do with his life? I don’t have to have all the answers, fix all the problems, or make all the correct choices. It’s not about me. It’s about Him. It’s simple. Thank God, because I’m terrible at life.

It’s been a while since the Lord spoke in triplicate to me. (It’s possible I may have missed a few.) He did so, very clearly, throughout my day yesterday. Early in the day came in the form of an old blog post about the simplicity of God. Then after a steak dinner, I went to a worship service with friends. I tucked into a back corner and began to write in my journal as worshippers swayed and sang. I wrote about what’s good in life. How those things are usually free and eternal: an affectionate hug, the scent of sweet grass, or crack of well-baked sough dough. Goodness is simple, I wrote. As the evening wore on, people starting to trickle out, a skinny middle-aged man took the microphone. He spoke about faith and rambled on about his unsaved son. I lost focus as I stared at the light above his head until he said, “It’s not complicated. IT’S SIMPLE.”

Nik Curfman 5/19/21 Nik Curfman 5/19/21

Journal: #284 Malcolm Gladwell

I don’t know where my writing will lead me. The odds are I will toil away in obscurity, as I post my thoughts and feelings. But, who knows? I am committed to writing and becoming a better writer. Perhaps, in ten to twenty years, my writing will find broad appeal. Hopefully, it’ll mean something to someone. For now and the rest of my life, it means something to me.

When asked, I usually tell people my favorite author is CS Lewis. The books Mere Christianity and The Screwtape Letters are crucial to my faith. (I know most people think of The Lion, the Witch, and Wardrobe when they think of Lewis. Without question, The Chronicles of Narnia have a place in English literature, but I’m not a fan.) Last summer, I read Till We Have Faces. It turned out to be the right book at the right moment in my life. For these reasons, I consider Mr. Lewis to be the St Paul of our lifetime.

My answer to the question about my favorite author is not about style or subject but impact. CS Lewis has the greatest and enduring impact on my life; however, he is not my favorite author to read. That would be Mr. Malcolm Gladwell. From the moment I began to read Outliers, I was hooked by his ability to craft a story from dull facts. Unlike others, I anticipate releasing new works, and I read them in a single day.

I got Gladwell’s new book, The Bomber Mafia, in the mail this afternoon. An hour later, I was 75 pages in. Only prudence and a scheduled visit with friends kept me from finishing it. And what is he writing about in the first few chapters? War and the nature of warfare- a completely new and original topic. When I saw the title and subtitle, I nearly avoided the purchase. I’m not a war story or strategy wonk. Yet, I decided to buy this book on faith, that Malcolm Gladwell would do what he does. I’m happy to report The Bomber Mafia is a success, and what I expect from him.

In 2008, when I read Outliers, I felt a kinship with Gladwell I can’t explain. He sees the world in fascinating patterns and dismantles myths with ease. He proved how opportunity and expertise are more valuable than talent. Academics of all walks took exception to the lowly journalist who challenged their doctrine. Within a few years of publication, several high studies aimed at the 10,000-hour rule Gladwell made popular. Most of them finding 10,000 hours of practice to less important than intention and deliberation. These assertions do not debunk the central thesis of practice makes perfect and talent is overrated.

That last bit is important to me, especially the older I grow. At 40, it is easy to think life passed me by, that I should settle for something attainable and routine. My big problem is I will not let myself live that life. I sabotage or become disillusioned at every job. Sooner or later I get bored, look for the exit, and begin to dream of greener grass. But, there are the words of my friend Malcolm. Hidden just beneath the surface of his writing, covered in glossy wordplay and story, is passion. What makes someone successful isn’t privilege or genius. It’s passion, the kind of passion that never lets a day go down without a fight, that sacrifices parties and fame, for the love of the thing.