Speaker, writer, filmmaker, Ducatista, adventurer

The nudge is real

I realized I needed a nudge today. Finally. The NudgeHappenedToday.  Sheesh, finally. We all need a nudge on occasion.

And to me this is particularly poignant, because I am “She Who Never Needs A Nudge” because… I just don’t. Except when I do, which is more often than I’d like to admit, but today was one of those days. Stay with me here.

For the record and for what it’s worth (which is very little), I am the former EIC of Entrepreneur magazine but for the last 6 months, I haven’t been an EIC. I quit. So, I’ve been doing only things I want to do and mostly things that require a helmet and no deadlines: skiing, horseback riding, motorcycling, life. I quit deadlines. I quit working. I quit being an EIC. I stopped writing. I stopped giving a shit about ad-to-edit ratios, paper stock and shitty newsstand numbers. I just sort of retired so I could live again and experience what it feels like to wear a helmet every day without a deadline in sight. And I did it because life is so fucking short. And print media is so fucking stupid any more. Shagging for a buck is always a shitty business model.

But I have truly enjoyed wearing a helmet with no deadlines for six months. I can smash my head against the wall for no reason and no brain damage.

Leaving traditional print media is a lot like leaving an abusive relationship. It takes a little while to process and recover, to accept and move on.  It takes a little while to accept who you are and what you stand for and figure out your next move. And it takes a little while to let go of what you love because you love it so much, you never want it to stop. But you know it is toxic.

And it takes some brass balls to leave something you love so much behind. But you have to.

And I know that now. And I give zero shits what anyone thinks. And negative zero shits about the masthead and the ego that invented the masthead.

I quit print media because while it is not dead, it is flaccid and floppy like a giant limp dick. Old school, I guess. But you gotta let the limp dick go, people.

Proof of concept: My husband, on the phone tonight, planning the next adventure with a friend from Texas, says this: “Amy is not working right now, so we’re free to ride anywhere. Yeah. No. She won’t be so stressed. No, we won’t have to bail early. Yeah, I think she’ll be normal. No, she won’t have to stop for calls or to check email. No, she won’t cry this time. No, there are no deadlines. Covers? Nope. Yeah. It could be a great trip this year. Yeah. I think we’re good.”

And there it is — the other side of the story, as told by my husband’s phone call.  Sheesh. Talk about a wake-up call.

Life is too short to let your job define you or anything, really. You alone define who you are. Don’t let your ego get the better of you and do shit that requires a helmet at least once a week. It’s good for the soul.

— Cosper

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