0 were inspired.Were you inspired?

Restoring hope to a broken world = Culture making

Today’s letter goes out to Andy Crouch (@ahc) whom I had the privilege of hearing talk about what it means to be a culture maker. (Not an affiliate link)
Dear Seasoned Culture Maker, I have been apart of culture shaping conversations for most of my life but never have I understood what it means to create culture as much I do after hearing you so clearly articulate your own passions. What I realized last night was that we, as North Americans, are great at shifting culture, at moving culture, and at rearranging culture; but we have missed the mark when it comes to creating culture. You said that when "culture is created well, threre is a flourishing; it enahnces the world around us." Often we set out to create culture for our own gain: our own ego (despite how noble our intentions may seem). But when this is our approach we end up paying god and can throw our world into a state of poverty that it does not deserve. The powerful portrait you painted of restoration is what clicked for me. We were created to create culture. But somehow most of us have shifted to consuming culture. In order to a create culture that enhances the world in which we live we need to restore hope. Hope in ourselves, who we are and who we were created be. Hope in others. But most of all, hope in humanity.
0 were inspired.Were you inspired?

A world without #MCV is incomprehensible

Word on the street is that today is Dustin Senos’ birthday. I’ve been following him for a while and he has inspired me to no end…although he doesn’t know it. Drop him a line and wish him a happy birthday.
Dear Genius Code Writer, Guys like you inspire me. Hell, you inspire me. Part of it is probably just the man crush that I've developed over the last couple of years that I've following the work that you do. I'd be lying if I said there wasn't part of me that wanted to be you. But the thing that I'm impressed with the most; the thing that keeps pushing me to better is the passion you for WHY you do what you do. It's not to churn out code for the sake of churning out code. It's not to design or redesign something to simply make it more aesthetically pleasing. By creating, coding and designing ways that enable us to interact with each other in new and rewarding ways, you are helping bring a level of humanity to technology that may not otherwise exist. You see the world for what it is: a big, open, limitless playground that is begging to be explored in ways that it never has been before.  Keep playing. Who knows, maybe one day I'll grow a pair big enough to join you.                                       Happy Birthday,
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“Move Bitch, Get Out The Way” (or Role Model Fail)

Dear White Knuckled Teenager, An audible groan escaped my lips as I pulled up behind you and noticed the big red magnet on the back of the your car. It's as if the black "L" that was plastered in the center was snickering as it stared me in the face, daring me make a move. I sat in the driver seat of my car pouting like a spoiled brat. When I finally had my chance to blow past you I couldn't hit the gas fast enough; exploding out of the merge lane and across two lanes of traffic as if I were street racing Vin Diesel. But as I sped past you time seemed to stand still. What I realized at that moment was enough for me drive even faster without looking in the rear view mirror out of sheer embarrassment. There you were, sweat glistening from your brow with white knuckles clenching the stirring wheel so hard I thought you might actually rip it off the stirring column. The whole idea of community and contributing to raising up future generations was totally lost on me in that moment. I was more focused on getting home 25 seconds quicker than I was about exemplifying what it means to be a responsible driver. Sure you're "just a kid learning how to drive". But what if tomorrow it's a kid learning how to think outside the box? Who am I to shit on their ideas? When did I lose my consciousness of those simply trying to learn and become so . . . . selfish? You're dad was right to tell you that I'm asshole.   I'm sorry.
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What are you running for?

Dear Terry Fox Die Hard, I heard your story on the radio the other day. At the time it didn't evoke much more than nonchalant, half-hearted "Hmm" before it out in favour of daydreaming. Although discarded at the time, your story must have impacted me in a way that I have yet to fully understand as it randomly popped to the forefront of my thoughts. What I initially tossed aside was the fact that you merely participtated in the same event for more than 30 years: although a pretty sizeable accomplishment but not unheard of for a man who's almost 80. However, what I failed to connect to at the time was not the fact that you have ran in ever single Terry Fox run since it first started, but the fact that you believe in something so deeply that you have been committed to it for your entire adult life. As the haze lifts from the words I heard you speak I am envious of your passion and dedication. Cancer ultimately got Terry Fox and you have lost loved ones to it's evil grasp as well. What I hear playing in my head now is the story of a man who is not about to give up. Who believes in something so strongly tha t he will not quit. Finding a cure: that's why you run. I wish I had something to run for.             I wish I knew what I wanted to run for.
0 were inspired.Were you inspired?

Neil Peart Ain’t Shit

Dear Exaggerated Steering Wheel Drummer, I can picture it now: Packed stadium. A hundred thousand screaming fans. Lights off other than a few swinging spot lights and thousands of camera flashes popping like strobe lights. The fog machines are spewing thick billows that barely hides the plumes of smoke from all of the pot heads. Nothing happens at first, then all of a sudden something moves on stage. No one can see what's happening and a near deafening hush falls over the crowd as they strain to see through the thick haze. Then it happens. The stage floor opens into a seemingly endless abyss in which you emerge playing to soul moving thump of your kick drum. As you break the surface of the stage an ear-splitting roar errupts from the crowd which nearly drowns you out as you break into the first song of your set.  I know it's what you were thinking while oblivious to the rush hour traffic around you.  (PS - The light's green) Just in case the title confused you, Neil Pert is an amazing drummer.
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Humanity is not easily broken (the day the world changed forever)

Dear Shirtless Morning Jogger, Yesterday was just like any other day. Yet it wasn't.  I drove my usual route to work listening to the news radio droning in the background, my mind lost in thought. I saw you, jogging in your all your senior, shirtless glory on what was shaping up to be another beautifully hot September day. A decade ago, September 11th was just another day.  Yet it wasn't.  I didn't wake up to see a younger more fit version of you jogging down the street. Not that day. Instead I woke up to a morning filled with fire, fear, hatred, loss, mourning, and for some (regretably). . . triumph. As the ensuing hours crept passed and I watched endless footage of strangers helping dig for the loved ones of those stuck watching in horror at home, one thing became glaringly apparent: Humanity is not easily broken.  As you were no doubt taking a usual route of your own I couldn't help but wonder if we were both remembering the lives that were tragically lost a decade ago.  I wonder if we were both remembering the triumphant display of unrelenting humanity of those who have helped rebuild a nation.                             I sure hope so.
0 were inspired.Were you inspired?

“Hey Baby, Nice Wheels”

Dear Motorcycle Pick-Up Artist, I've gotta say: I admire your moxie. It's rare (or maybe not as rare as I think) to see a guy on a crotch rocket picking up girls at stop lights. I suppose it makes a lot of sense considering you can drive right up to their window and use some whitty pick-up line like "Hey, nice wheels." But as I saw you chatting up the brunnette who had her head hanging out the window of her red, topless jeep, I saw that you were a man of opportunity. Taking advantage of time that would have otherwise been wasted sitting still in the hot summer heat, you had the opportunity to fill up your weekend schedule. I wonder how many opportunities I've missed because I've been just too oblivious or self focused to recognize. How many times have I blown off the chance to jump head first into a truly great adventure because I was busy concentrating on the red light turning green as opposed to looking out my window and taking in the scene around me. Picking up girls at red lights isn't my thing. But who knows, maybe my next adventure will be right in front of me tomorrow.  (I just have to keep my eyes open).
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Errant Moral Compass vs. Field of Dreams

Dear Corn Thief, Seeing you and your partner emerge from the vast field of 6 foot corn stalks I felt as though I was actually living in the movie "Field of Dreams" (either that or "Children of the Corn"). I half expected to look to my right through my driver's side window and see a dozen or so semi-translucent baseball pro's in the middle of an epic "afterlife" battle of the diamond. Instead I saw you trudging out of the ditch with two large shopping bags full of corn. What I realized as I watched you and your clepto friend continue on your way was just how much the rest of society respects the boundaries of personal property. It would be easy to take a few ears of corn or snag some apples from a nearby orchard without consequence. But in large part, whether people realize it or not, they are guided by a moral compass that respects others. Your compass may be off a few degrees but I'm glad you're not the norm.
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A Match Made In Twitter Heaven

Dear Twitter Love Birds, "You've Got Mail" seems like nothing more than a nursery rhyme compared to the epic tale of love that spanned many months and thousands of miles all while being told 140 characters at a time. Your story is one that is about so much more than love: it is story about human connection and how our digital cultural has made it more possible and more enriching than ever. The boundaries of connectedness have faded to nothing when they once confined us to merely our geographic region. The Cynics will say that the attention span of our digital generation is rapidly dwindling and that we're losing the ability to make real human connections. But the two of you have debunked that myth. The world is more accessible than ever. With that comes ability to find the true love that you were created for: the one that you are destined for.
Today’s letter goes out to brilliant Max Dubinsky (@MaxDubinsky) and the ever inspiring Lauren Lankford (now Dubinsky) (@LaurenDubinsky). Their’s is a story of true love that came together atop a cliff in Colorado.
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The Quiet Strength of a Younger Generation

Dear Young Equestrian Rider, I was pleasantly surprised to see you atop of you beautiful brown horse, galloping around the arena as you practiced your jumps. There is something about the way in which you gracefully command the respect of such a powerful animal that inspires me. Your young adolescent frame looked as though it didn't belong sitting in the saddle of the large beast. But the way you playfully guided her through the course you no doubt know like the back of your hand, it appeared as though you are a seasoned veteran who is not riding an animal but rather a working with a friend. There are often times that I wish my quiet presence alone demanded the same respect that I saw in you. You were calm, gentle, reassuring, and strong. Don't ever lose that quiet strength. You will need it more often than you know.