I hate how all user-based systems demand you select a name and title right away. I suppose it makes sense from an IT/infrastructure standpoint. But such pressure! I mean, I don’t know just yet what this blog will mean for my life. It may become my greatest form of therapy. Or, a victim of social media overload, something that goes untouched and unattended (hell, I’d be writing this post on Xanga if I could only remember my username and password!).
Seems rather unfair I should name it now. Oh, well – that’s how it goes. Label things first. Figure out what they are after. That being said, I still tried to put some thought into it…
I instantly drifted towards my life mantra (and subject of many friends’ jests): “I refuse to descend into mediocrity” – laugh as you like – this statement has remained a guiding principle in my life. I set goals and I work to achieve them. I set new, higher goals and repeat.
So I knew I wanted the blog to serve as a reminder to myself of this mantra. But, “I refuse to descend into mediocrity” doesn’t immediately lend itself to a proper name for a “place.” If I refuse to descend, where will I end up? The sky is the limit, right? (if I may draw upon a corny, over-played motivational sound byte).
Also, in a recent (and surprisingly positive) journal entry, I likened my transition from Cleveland to Chicago to that of taking off in an airplane. Accepting a new job and quitting the old, putting the house on the market and looking for a new place in the city. Nervousness. Unease. The feeling of not being entirely in control. Turbulence (slight to moderate, depending on your particular threshold for pain in aviation). You know the feeling? You just want the process to be over. You sit down and buckle up. No turning back. Before you know it - even while still clinching your eyes and gripping the armrest - you realize the airplane has found its altitude and has leveled off. All you can see is clouds and open sky…you’re on your way.
Photo taken from a trip to Greece Summer of 2011. I'm not much for flying, let alone transatlantic. ::bites nails::
So there you have it. 30,000 feet. Why? Because I refuse to descend into mediocrity – I am only going up. I liked it. I saved it. Now, let’s see where it takes me.
(And even as I write now, I'm thinking more about the name. "30,000 feet" in business means an overview. “Give me the 30,000 feet version of what you’re trying to sell.” That take on the name really works too. Time is of the essence. Here, I will try to get right to the point and not be overly verbose - this post notwithstanding).
That’s what’s in a name.
That’s what’s in a name.