The last few days I haven't been able to keep my blog going. 

My excuse? I've been in the hospital – from the ER to Intensive Care to a regular room – and now home last night. The meds are slowing me down a lot, so this pitiful excuse for a post is the best I can do for now. 

Soon I will post about my experience at Aspen Valley Hospital. In a word it was Exceptional. Lovely, attentive, thoughtful and knowledgeable people. 

I'll do my best to write soon, I promise! 

Love,

Brownell

Yesterday I got a last-minute invitation to a first-class party in Aspen. (The photo to the left is the only one I took – mainly because of the awe-inspiring view). 

The new friend who invited me asked, "Was this your first Aspen party?" 

While it was my first Aspen party since I've been a "local," I have been to a couple of Aspen parties on previous visits. One was a holiday party in the Hotel Jerome, and another was called the "Aspen Wine Party" where the hosts had "rented" one of the ski runs on the mountain to offer wine and fun. Strictly ski-in ski-out. Fun! I still have my Aspen Wine Party hat. It's one of my favorite possessions. 

While I pride myself on being a transparent person, I will admit that there are a lot of "sides" to me that most people don't know. It's not that I'm hiding that part of myself, it's just that the facets that constitute "me" are as diverse and confusing as my first name. 

It's always curious to me to hear what people think when they hear my first name before meeting me, especially if they have no context. Some think I'm a man, while others are shocked to hear anyone would make that assumption! (To be clear, I did have a male cousin named Brownell, so it's not that far-fetched). Some think I'm African-American. Makes sense, if you think about it. And some wonder if it's a family name; probably one that used to be a last name.

Bingo. 

I'll likely talk more about my heritage in a future post. But in the meantime I will share that my personal history runs the extreme from homelessness to a number of "top 1%" events. At one point I had 13 long dresses in my closet. And not that long ago I was on food stamps. Just part of who I am. Neither makes me better or worse than anyone else. Just different. 

And, hopefully, a better writer.

Yesterday I wrote about the past and how it led me here. Today I'm considering: What will life be like at the end of the 365 Days? 

I honestly don't know. Anything is possible. I could still be in Aspen (though probably living somewhere else). I could be in a whole new place for '365 Days." I could meet someone who sweeps me off to a new locale. One of my projects/ventures could take off, leading me to another city. Or I could not be "here" here, like I predicted at the beginning of the year. 

Life can be unpredictable for everyone, though I might assert that mine is a lot more fluid than most. 

Is that good or bad? I can't say. It just IS. 

Did I choose this life? Let's just say I don't completely buy into the "law of attraction" or "you create your own reality" viewpoint. I think it's more that we co-create our reality. What happens next is only partially up to me. 

The following clip from a South Park episode entitled, "My Future Self 'N Me" is a humorous way of demonstrating how our future self might try to get us to make some changes that could affect her (or him). 

How true this is!  

2015 was a year of trials and tribulations, to say the least. I had been through many years of financial struggle (#understatement) and finally – finally! – found investors for my DrawSuccess business. After a bit of back-and-forth, we signed contracts and were ready to "Change the World in a Fun and Profitable Way."  

Alas – the experience ended up being a(nother) lesson in failure and trusting dishonorable (sleazy) people. Jim Filicia – you know who you are. Scum of the Earth. Liar of Liars. 

Soon after that fiasco started the first of 8 trips to Kentucky to help my 85-year-old mother. It started with basic, mundane support that escalated into exhaustive care and decisions that ultimately led to her dying in October. 

Before you offer your sympathies, I'll share with you what I tell others: "It's all good. She was really ready to go, and she's happy where she is." My 100% security/certainty in the "other side" offers me enormous assurance and peace. And it also allowed me to talk openly with my mother about her impending experience. 

Anyway – back to the post. While my mother was aging, a year ago there was no indication she'd be gone. A year ago, I had no idea what I'd be doing (with my business up in flames, after all). I would never have guessed that I would move or where I'd be living. And there's no way I would have thought I would have gotten poisoned from Costco tuna and predicting my own death. 

Here I am. New home. New friends. New opportunities. Still a lot of uncertainties, of course. That's what you get when you live a life of taking risks.

You know what they say: Risk nothing – Gain nothing. 

Who can guess what songs I'll play for this post?  

Last night I rode the gondola up Ajax (Aspen Mountain) for an astronomy event at the top of the mountain. Usually the gondola closes before dark, so this was a rare opportunity to take pictures at dusk.  

Today, I'll just let the pictures speak for me…

And – to quote Mike Myers as Gunter in his "Sprockets" skit on SNL:

One new song…

And a (rather cheesy and dated but still fun) classic:

Spoiled. A loaded word. A sometimes dangerous concept. On one level, we might feel like we "deserve" the best. Yet when can it lead to expectation – or worse – complacency – what are we to do then?  

I just moved here, which makes me in awe of the advantages my newly adopted town offers that I didn't enjoy before. Beyond the awe-inspiring beauty – which I don't think I'll ever grow complacent with – and beyond the "just a few minutes away" convenience – which I will always always appreciate – lies other "spoiled" advantages of living here. Yesterday I experienced…

The library. 

Ahhh… the library! A library that's a six minute walk away. A library with a patio/deck and view like this. A library with – get this – a soundproofed recording studio and green-screen video room!  

Like I said. Spoiled. 

What's the affliction? And if it is one, what's the antidote? 

I'll get back to you on that one. In the meantime, I'll just appreciate and enjoy.

There's nothing like moving somewhere new that makes you evaluate your past, present and future. 

This song came at me like a flash from the past. Even though I listen to music from just about every decade, I hadn't heard this tune in ages. 

I'm changing, arranging,
I'm changing,
I'm changing everything
Everything around me

If you read this blog – and/or know me personally – there are some things you know about me. One of which is that I believe in the value of change. So many people talk about the "Law of Attraction" when there are so many other "laws" – one of which I believe is the "Law of Change." (Along with the Law of Karma and others). 

In physics, they say that "nature abhors a vacuum." In a similar, yet opposite way, I assert that "nature" (the Universe, God, etc.) loves change because it creates that vacuum, allowing Him/Her/It to come in and work magic. 

A lot has changed for me since I've moved. Unlike the song above, I don't long to "take me back to my home." Which leads to another thing you may know about me is that I'm the personality type that looks forward, not backward. (I could arguably be called a leading personality experts, an honor I earned through 15,000 hours of study and the awarding of a patent for my DrawSuccess invention).  Some people spend a lot of time in the past, longing to go back in time where things were "known." Some embrace "the moment," living in the "now." And some look forward. 

Some change. 

As you read this post, look inward and ask yourself, "Do I love change?" 

Reflections. As this picture suggests, sometimes memories distort and sometimes they enhance.

Look how much bluer the sky is reflected in the water. How much richer the green is. 

Yesterday I went to the Aspen Chapel to hear a Bach Concerto that has been performed annually for over 20 years. Not only was it beautiful, it was an opportunity for reflection. 

For me, religion and spirituality are as intertwined as they can be disparate. Yet (hopefully) both are designed to help you reflect. 

And while I'm "reflecting," I'll share a song by the first group I ever saw in concert: Diana Ross and the Supremes. I was 5 years old. Ohio State Fair.

Since I've moved here, I've had a lot of encounters with Humility.  Like hiking next to a 79-year-old woman with a slipped disc who is fitter and faster than I am! Or behind another older man who trudges up the mountain without a break, while I need to stop from time to time to catch my breath – and he still beats me.

The first week I was here, I could excuse myself for not being acclimated to the altitude. But now I have to fight from beating myself up.

Or, I should say, from beating my "body" up. It's "she" who isn't fill-in-the-blank. Strong enough. Determined enough. Healthy enough. Good enough. 

How sad it is that we (I) do this to ourselves. Instead of celebrating that I can even do this fairly challenging hike, considering that at the beginning of the year I was so infirm from the Costco tuna poisoning I could barely walk up stairs, I compare myself – my body – to someone else's. 

Yet so many of us do that all the time.

So – what is humility? At first it sounds good, like something everyone should aspire to.  But when you look at the definition and synonyms, maybe it's not so good. "A modest or low view of one's own importance." Meekness? Submissiveness? Unassertiveness? 

Certainly some people could benefit from a dose of humility. Those who seem to have an air of superiority, who think they're better than anyone else. (I'll refrain from a political statement, but those of you who know me, know who I'm talking about.) The narcissists who are so in love with their own reflection they not only think everything they do is "great," they often have a need to put others down to maintain their own self-assigned position on the pedestal. 

But what about the rest of us? Those who have concerns with "not being good enough?" As someone who's become somewhat of an expert in "failure," which is basically an endless submersion in humility, I might not need a boost of self-esteem exactly, but perhaps a little encouragement. 

So I turn to music…

And here's some emerging talent:

Flow. 

Both a verb and a noun. 

As a creative person, the most precious gift is when you experience the opening that allows the ideas to flow.  

When these portals are blocked, you fear they'll never open again. But when they do (and thankfully they do – eventually), it's simply magical. 

In addition to this blog and a few other things, I'm working on a writing project. One that's both a challenge and opportunity. Just enough to create that "fear" I wrote about a few days ago. Excitement wrapped in uncertainty. Yep.  

In Aspen, there are rivers and streams everywhere. Even in my own back yard! So flow as a metaphor is everywhere. 

And now – a relevant song: