Latest posts from Danny Brown

Enjoy the latest posts from Danny Brown, and feel free to add your own thoughts in the comments after the post.

Life Through a Dram – My New (First) Podcast

So… yeah… I started a podcast. Say hello to Life Through a Dram. 🙂

I’d been thinking of doing one for a long time, now. Then, as I started some other projects / labours of love, like The Craft Beer Diaries, I considered how I could utilize podcasting there, too.

But, like a lot of things I do, I procrastinated, and then getting a podcast set up dropped off my radar. So… yeah.

With the podcast, I’m looking to essentially just have a weekly “thought”, that can be about life, being a better person, the world around us… pretty much, what I talk about on the blog, only now through audio.

It won’t be the same content you’ve already read here (though I may riff on previous topics) – instead, it’ll be something that caught my eye, or made me think, and I’ll riff on that.

The name comes from the fact that I’ll be sharing my thoughts while enjoying a dram of fine single malt scotch. Because life’s always better with a good whisky. 🙂

Anyhoo, the first episode is below. Like I mentioned, it’s not super polished, and I’ll be looking to change up the recording a little bit as I move forward.

If you think this might be something you’d enjoy, I’d love for you to subscribe using your preferred option underneath the podcast.

And please, feel free to drop your own thoughts in the comments on what you’d change, what you’d like to hear discussed, etc.

Slaintevar!

[smart_track_player url=”https://dannybrown.me/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/Episode-1-The-World-Might-Jus-2cc685fa1c0a.m4a” title=”Episode 1: The World Might Just Be Okay” artist=”Life Through a Dram” social_email=”true” ]

Subscribe: iTunes | Stitcher | Spotify | Pocket Casts | Google Podcasts

Being In The Physical, and Turning Memories Into Moments

This week, I returned from a two week trip back to my birth country of Scotland.

I took the trip with my good friend, Sam Fiorella, who had wanted to do this trip for a few years (he was meant to do it two years ago for his 50th birthday).

Given my own 50th is fast approaching this October, I revisited the idea with him, and we took off on an adventure of whisky tasting, scenic views, a trip to his beloved Liverpool FC near the end of the trip, and a stay-over in Amsterdam on the last night.

And it was glorious.

Being able to switch off, and simply view and breathe in the experiences around us, was truly a gift, and one that has created memories that will last a lifetime.

It’s something we don’t do enough of and, watching how those around us in the places we visited lived life, made us both realize how differently life is meant to be enjoyed.

Digital Seconds, Physical Lifetimes

It’s been a while since I was in Scotland and I was originally from Edinburgh, so I was used to busy lives where streets are full, and people have places to go, fast.

It’s not too different from Toronto, where I now work – heads down, feet driving people forward, meetings to make as opposed to conversations.

And I get that. It’s modern life, city style.

But the contrast in the Scottish Highlands and Islands, where Sam and I visited, was marked and welcome.

People ambled along amiably, smiling, nodding acknowledgement, taking life one slow step at a time.

Pubs were full of laughter and faces at once new yet not, as they struck up conversations with us and invited us into their circles.

Strangers became fast friends, and no-one looked at their cell phones. Seriously – not one single time.

Instead of wasting digital seconds, the locals were enjoying physical lifetimes of laughter.

Contentment, easiness around people, and showing how people with no rush to be in the next place lived life in a much happier place than we allow ourselves to in our own everyday lives.

It was almost like being in a place before cell phones, before social media, before always-on became a norm as opposed to an abnormality.

And I loved them for that.

Making Memories More Than Just an Image

This peace, this serenity, left me with an increased desire to at least try and replicate it back home in Canada.

I’ve spoken before about leading meaningful lives, and turning off the overwhelm, and I try my best to switch off where I can for some quality time.

Yet one thing I’ve taken away from the stay in the Scottish Highlands and Islands is this: just switching off only lasts so long. It’s the mindset that has to change.

Enjoying moments for what they are, as opposed to what you pressure yourself to gain from them.

Enjoying people for who they are, as opposed to what you expect to take from them.

Enjoying life for what it is, as opposed to what you’re told it should be for it to mean something.

In short, not thinking of memories of that time in Scotland and how relaxed I felt, but making these memories ones that exist every day because we’re living that ethos of peace, contentment, and appreciation.

No doubt there will be times it’s not possible to do so but, for the most part, it’s easier than we often allow ourselves to believe it is.

We just need to open our eyes and breathe.

If you’d like to view a collection of some of the pictures I took on the trip, including some amazing panoramic views, you can find them here.

Time Flies When You’re Not Blogging

So I was looking over my last few posts (as I’d realized I haven’t blogged in a while), and I was surprised to find that in the last three months, I’d only blogged four times.

Just once a month, if you ignore the first of these four posts which was an update post, versus a topical one.

At first, I won’t lie – I kinda panicked. Given (up until the last year, anyhoo) I’d been a prolific blogger, often publishing multiple times a week, to drop to almost one a month seemed alien.

It’s not that it was deliberate, either. I had ideas in my head, words I wanted to type, but things just got in the way.

Life. Family. New job. Beer. And other trivialities I won’t bore you with.

But more than a month since I last published something? Both scary (for want of a better word), and a little sad.

For the longest time, blogging has been such an integral part of my routine that to realize I hadn’t blogged for so long was almost like a wake-up call.

We Continue to Breathe

I used to think that, for a blogger, if you weren’t publishing on a regular basis, you essentially ceased to exist. There was no reason for you to be, if you had no reason to be seen.

Maybe, in a deep down way, I still believe that, but I don’t think I do. Otherwise, would I leave my words dormant for so long? Who knows.

What I do know is, no matter how long you take a break for, the world goes on. We go on. We live. Others live.

We continue to breathe.

In a way, it’s a little sobering, knowing that – as “important” you think the words are that you’re typing – you’re just another part of someone’s day that can be taken or left.

Not that that’s a bad thing. Far from it. Indeed, it can act as a nice reminder that, as connective as digital is, the analogue is just as connective, and right in front of your eyes.

Reminders Are Good for the Soul

Still, for someone who’s blogged consistently for the last 10 years (more, if you include infrequent musings on blogs that are long gone), this hiatus has been both welcomed and unwelcome.

Welcome, inasmuch that it showed me that I still have a love for this medium, and that I missed it hellishly while stepping back (albeit not on purpose).

Unwelcome, in that I let inactivity become a better bedfellow than pushing ahead with the thoughts I had in my head at a time I could have typed and hit publish, yet didn’t.

Plus ca change.

My grandad, who I’ve spoken about on here many times, once told me that our souls are all we have. Our bodies disintegrate, our faculties diminish, and our memories will one day just become dust.

Our souls, though? Our souls are endless, and it’s up to us how we use that longevity. Being reminded of that helps us realize that if we have a message we want to share, we need to share it before we lose the opportunity forever.

I don’t know what message I have to share. Hell, I might not have one at all.

But I do know I’ve missed this platform, and hearing your thoughts in the comments. Perhaps I’ve missed that latter the most of all.

Anyhoo… I ramble. I do that when I have a bunch of things to say, but not the time to say them. At least, not yet.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, it’s nice to be back. I missed you guys. Let’s make the next chapters the best ones.

Forever Chasing Shadows

From the moment we can, until our moments are no more, we’re forever chasing shadows.

As children, we chase the shadow of ourselves that the streetlight throws in front of us.

As teenagers, we chase the impossible date with the most popular boy or girl.

As adults, we chase the dream job that never happens, or the pot of gold we never reach.

We know – subconsciously or otherwise – that some shadows can never be caught, and yet we chase them anyway.

And the damage is catastrophic.

People chase after opportunities around the world and watch marriages collapse because of it.

People chase popularity online and see children forget who they are.

The damage gets done; and yet still we chase the elusive shadows.

Some shadows we catch, and it makes the chase worthwhile.

But for how long? The make-up of a shadow means it’s always on the move – can we afford to always be on the move too?

We all make choices every day. Some have a clear outcome, some don’t.

The clear ones may not be the most rewarding financially, but money never cured a broken soul.

The non-clear ones live in the shadows, and the thrill of the chase appears again.

Some of us succumb; some step away and accept the futility of chasing that particular shadow.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with chasing shadows; there is something inherently wrong chasing futile shadows.

Alfred A. Montapert once said,

Nobody ever did, or ever will, escape the consequences of his choices.

Our shadows are our choices. Our consequences are the future and the past of these choices.

Make sure you’re choosing wisely.

On Hot Tubs and Getting Older

Next year, I’ll be 50. What the f…?

I remember being a young man in my early 20’s, and thinking 30 was old. My 20’s and 30’s were probably my peak, at least physically.

To even consider being 50 was… no, it wasn’t even considered. It just wasn’t an age to understand.

Now, a couple of decades later, and I’m thinking – how did this creep up?

Was I just not paying attention? Not accepting it was coming? Not growing up, and still thinking of my peak years? Although one look in the mirror can easily confirm these are behind me…

So what does that have to do with hot tubs?

Maintenance, Maintenance, Maintenance…

This summer, my wife and I agreed to a major project for our back yard.

Our deck was falling apart, and our yard itself was on two levels essentially, leading to a flat back yard to the side of our house and a sloped one just beyond our deck.

This meant a few things: our kids couldn’t really play anywhere except the side of our house, it was a major pain in the ass for me to mow, and it made our backyard look smaller due to the slope.

So, we hired a landscaper to redo the deck and yard, as well as install a hot tub (something my wife had always wanted in a back yard of our own).

After a 6-8 week period, from planning to visualization and then implementation, it was done.

Our old, decrepit deck had been replaced by a beast of a two-tier deck, that allowed extra play area for our kids as well as a built-in hot tub.

Job done, right? Eh, maybe not.

Don’t get me wrong – I love our new deck, the extra space, the entertaining area, and the hot tub. It’s just… well, I guess the hot tub reminds me of my impending aging.

The hot tub is hard work. Enjoyable hard work, but hard work none the less.

I have to keep the chemicals at a certain level; I have to keep the water level just right; and, once a quarter, I need to empty the old water, clean, and add new.

That’s not even taking into account the filters and how I need to clean and change them on certain dates.

In a way, it kinda sounds like me getting older.

Make sure you have any (meds) chemicals you need; look after your bladder and extra need to pee (water level); and ensure your younger self isn’t impacting your older self (don’t think the hot tub will look after itself in the years to come).

I’m hot tub man! 🙂

Forget the Work, Enjoy the Results

And, to a degree, being “hot tub man” sucks. I’m at the age now where I want an easy life. Or, at least, an easier life.

I don’t want regular responsibilities – if the hot tub water smells, I want it to be because a skunk pissed in it, as opposed to me forgetting to check the levels.

But… then I remember the feeling of being in the tub,

Calm. Relaxation. Peace. Warmth. Love. Safety.

And then I think, for all the work needed, maybe it’s not a bad thing. Maybe the work is needed to make the pleasure a result of the [perceived] pain.

Maybe the work is what makes it worthwhile. Much like getting older,

Maybe all the stuff I miss now – flat belly, being fit, being “hot” – was just my training ground to finding true happiness.

True love. True comfort, calm, relaxation, and all that comes with that.

Who knows? I’m just thinking aloud on a Saturday night. Not the greatest time to try and make a point, as everyone gets ready to have their happy time, at least for them.

But that’s okay.

Because I’m not thinking aloud for them. I’m just riffing for us – the older, the soon-to-be-old, and the ones that remember what it was to be young.

Much like a hot tub, it’s hard work. But the results are worth it.