Weight Loss

Just in time for resolution season, Zac Brown Band has released a new song, "Homegrown", that has inspired me to go on a weight loss plan.  Not a diet, mind you; I’m talking about reducing what the Band calls “the weight that you carry of the things you think you want."

Want to feel lighter this year?  Don’t count calories; count your blessings.  I’m going to reduce my wish list, not my weight.  In the song, Zac names some of his blessings:  his “good friends, living down the street,” his attractive wife, his pleasant small town (where, presumably, everyone knows his name), and realizes: “I’ve got everything I need, and nothing that I don’t.”

It would be tempting to dismiss Zac Brown’s contentment:  of course he is content!  Zac is a country music mega-star who could surely afford anything he wants or needs.  I can hear someone asking, "What if he was burdened with my underwater mortgage, dead-end job, tapped-out credit card, and surly spouse?”  Surely then he’d be writing about being “home flown”, not “Homegrown".

Perhaps.  But I appreciate the reminder that threads through many of Zac’s songs—“Homegrown" is only the latest example—to appreciate the simple good things in life, many of which are free or cheap and available to us all, regardless of our employment status or bank account balance.  Consider:

I like my chicken fried, cold beer on a Friday night, a pair of jeans that fit just right…there is no dollar sign on peace of mind....  

That’s from the band’s breakout hit single, “Chicken Fried,” in 2008.  Now nearly seven years later, Zac and band are still extolling the virtues of home, family, and simple living.  “Homegrown” reminds us of this again, and adds to it the realization that much of our angst, emotional baggage, and simple unhappiness comes from wanting what we don’t have rather than what we do have.  “It’s the weight that you carry of the things you think you want” that slows us down.

So while I am not normally a new year’s resolution person, this year I’m taking Zac Brown’s advice to pay more attention to the good things I’ve already got.  And I’m going to focus on reducing the length of my wish list—too much wanting will only weigh me down.

The Day That I Die

I'm a big fan of the Zac Brown Band, and hours of listening has seared the bands' songs into my mind. Along with the catchy melodies, soothing harmonies, and impressive musicianship, I've come to appreciate the philosophy that runs like a thread through their work.  Much like this blog tries to do, many of the band's lyrics reflect a blend of Stoic acceptance of life as it is; an Epicurean appreciation of the pleasures of everyday living; a Christian acknowledgement of God as supreme over all of life; and a growing recognition that time is a precious resource that should not be taken for granted.

Take Day That I Die, from the band's latest album Uncaged, written by Zac Brown, Wyatt Durrette, and Nic Cowan.  After acknowledging the sometimes tough life of a musician on the road, the singer recognizes that the songs come from inside him; he has to sing:


'Cause I believe that I

Was born with a song inside of me.

Never question why, 

I just kept on chasing that melody.

And as time goes by, 

It's funny how time can make you realize, 

We're running out of it.

Anyone in middle age, musician or not, can relate to those last lines:  as time goes by, we begin to realize that time won't last forever.  Once we realize that time has a limit, its value increases.  And as its value increases, we start to think more deliberately about how to spend it.  And there you have the genesis of many a "mid-life crisis."

As the song continues, Zac reminds us that one answer to the realization that time is precious is to make sure we spend it doing something we love.  In his case, playing guitar:

On the day that I die, 

I wanna say that I 

Was a man who really lived and never compromised.

And when I've lived out my days

Until the very end, 

I hope they find me in my home,

A guitar in my hands.

A man who is driven to be a musician by the melodies that seemingly erupt from within him hopes to be playing music to the very end.

Which poses a question:  how do you want to spend the hypothetical day that you die?   When I look around me, it appears that most people want to be found with an iPhone in their hands.  Seriously?  Maybe they are all composing music on GarageBand.......

Time is precious; we don't have an unlimited supply.  Even more daunting, you can't know exactly how much you do have; people like Mike had much less than they expected.   Once you realize that your time has real value, the next step is to be deliberate about how you spend it.  Don't do things just because everyone else does them; examine yourself, taking into account your talents, motivations, responsibilities, desires, hopes, and prayers.  Then spend your valuable time on the things that matter to you, not on things that society says should matter to you.

For me that means trying to be rich in relationships, experiences, and memories.  Yes, I have to work for a living, but I continue to try to be as efficient as possible to free up time for what really matters to me:  talking to my wife, playing with my kids, reading, writing, eating; actually living.  On the day that I die, I hope they find me in my home, surrounded by my family, a book and a pen in my hand.

On the day that you die, how will we find you?