The death of Steve Jobs... Part 2

As I said, I was up late last night when the news about Steve Jobs broke, and I watched as the trickle in the first moments become a flood of messages that crashed Twitter, pretty much as I watched. More than realising what legacy he’s left for the world, I started thinking about what his death means to me / for me. I was in the process of looking around to get my mother an iPod for her birthday this month when the news broke, so that felt appropriate, but more than that as I started thinking about the mark he’s left on the world, I realised that along with so many other people, he’s left a mark on me too. I love my iPod (Best.Christmas Present. Ever.) and I listen to it every day on the way to and from work. It’s the single element that makes my commute bearable because I can close my eyes and just enjoy the music.

Like so many others, things feel different when I have a ‘soundtrack’ to my life, and the massive capacity of the iPods allow us to carry so many songs, that we know we’ll always have just the right one for any given moment or mood. Music is so evocative of emotion & memories that being able to take it everywhere with you is a gift of amzing proportions. I still remember seeing my very first iPod back when I was still in Cape Town, in 2006 (I think) and thinking then how much I wanted it. i-Products often generate that acquisitiveness in people,  “oooooo, I want the new shiny thing!” 5 years later I have the teeny tiny iPod nano (5^th / 6^th gen) which I wore almost like a badge of pride this morning. It contrasted rather well with the black turtle next I inadvertently wore today - only remembering afterwards that it was the piece of clothing Steve Jobs was known for.

More than that, his death has made me question my own choices, particularly the line from his commencement speech, which has been much quoted today, “Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life.” Am I really living the life that I want me to have, or am I taking the safe option, the one that while it provides material goods, doesn’t allow me to be the best ‘me’ I can be? (And I can’t believe how clichéd that sounds… In my head it sounded a lot better) So many of us are in jobs or relationships that offer the ‘trappings’ that society as a whole tells us are the hallmarks of happiness. Deep, deep down, we know - This isn’t where I should be, and this isn’t who I should be with. I’m supremely lucky to have one of the best partners and husbands a woman could ask for and I think that only with him and my family have I ever found real happiness. Apart from that, so much of my life has, and is, being spent in pursuit of things that I believed were important (mostly money and stuff).

So now I sit in a position of having too much stuff, and enough money, and still not finding that makes me go “Aha! I am now completely happy with my life”. Instead now that I’m in such a good position, I find myself realising that it hasn’t really made me happy, instead I’m just plodding along, day by day, in the hope that something will happen to me to make it all better, all ok. Instead I need to be the one making that happen for me! I’ve written 3 books (2 whole, 2 half), and never done anything with them - instead waiting for someone to magically ‘find’ me and get them published. I’ve been so passive for so long, that breaking out of that will be hard, but I need to do it for myself, not wait for someone else to pull me out of that. 

I owe it to myself & the man who died yesterday…

The death of Steve Jobs... Part 1

Steve Jobs died last night. Many of us here in the UK woke up this morning to hear that one of the greatest visionaries we’ve known, passed away yesterday. I was actually still up at 1 am, when the first news came through of his death. Because there was so little “official” coverage initially, I thought it might be a really crap hoax, but only a few moments of checking showed it was the truth. It's odd how shell-shocked I felt when I heard, not having personally known the great man, and having issues with some of his policies (flash on iPads for example).

I know it doesn't make any difference to the family suffering his loss, and the company losing his leadership (and aura of amazingness), but he really did leave a legacy that affects all of us. I sit on the tube listening to my iPod and writing this on my iPad, in spite of being a PC fan, which tells you how far his legacy of innovation has spread. I know he didn't invent the portable music device, but he revolutionised it. He didnt invent the tablet, but he revolutionised it. Likewise with the smartphone. In the process of revolutionising these devices that have now become ubiquitous, he put them into all of our hands. As I look around I see those distinctive White earphones in many ears, I see so many people checking their email or playing games on their iPhones. I think that we are the iGeneration, because even if not all of us carry Apple products, we carry products that were inspired by those products (even if the inspiration was just a fear of losing lucrative market share)

I think beyond the mass of technology that is his legacy, Steve Jobs left us all something else. He left us a legacy of belief. Belief that we too could rise above any origins we have to give the world something amazing, whether it be new technology, or thoughtful movies that make you cry without saying a word. He may only have been here for 56 years, but he showed us that its not the conformists and the drones who change the world, it’s those people who stop and think and take a different course, even if it ends up in failure. There have and will continue to be many who are handed the title ‘the next steve jobs’, but honestly I think he’d be happier if he was the only steve jobs (The guy did have a bit of an ego…)

Instead of trying to be next him, I think he’d prefer us to be the next ‘us’. As he said in his commencement speech to Stanford in 2005, “Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do.” If you look at all the really amazing work that’s being done in our world, most of the time those breakthroughs and revolutions are being created by men & women who truly love their job. They wake up in the morning and look forward to going to work and they use everything they have to create the best ‘product’ or ‘idea’ they possibly can because they believe that much in what they do and they do great work because they love it.

Inferno & Ore (Book 1) - Page 1

“I love the smell of stale beer in the morning”

Feeling very sarcastic and more cynical than usual as she sat outside the door of the club watching the sky gradually darken, Lia was just waiting for her “work” to begin as everyone else was enjoying the ending of their work and looking forward to their time off. Friday nights in Camden Town got hairy, and usually out of control.

Looking around the bar and the outside area, Lia knew that it was too early for drunken fights and rowdy arguments, and so she leaned back on her barstool propped up at the front door and let her thoughts wander. Thinking back to earlier in the evening when she had been on her way to work, Lia let her thoughts dwell on the good looking guy she'd seen.

Tall, dark and handsome as the cliché went, was only 60% accurate in this case, since he had hair that was more blonde than dark, and down to his waist. His worn leather jacket had been open to display a tight t-shirt covering what seemed to be a divine, and in this case she meant that literally, chest. And, unfortunately for her concentration levels, he had her personal weakness, a broad, muscular set of shoulders. Over time she’d come to the conclusion that there was no point having a man whose shoulders don't stretch out a jacket properly. Broad shoulders normally meant good upper body strength and as someone who always had self-defence or fighting in the back of her mind, that was paramount.

He had smiled and winked at her and she had smiled and waved back, until he disappeared into the usual chaotic Camden crowd. He had been walking down the road away from the clubs, and for a second she thought she had seen bare feet, but had dismissed that as being far too odd, even for a Camden inhabitant.

Lia was dragged back to the immediate present by a squeaky and slightly slurred voice nearby calling out to her. “Hey, baby... Why don't you let me buy you a drink?” Lia sighed; she knew this type all too well. That line had always been the mating cry of the truly drunk or desperate man, possibly both, who somehow believes that because she was wearing a skirt she must be open to his proposals. Lia’s smile slowly disappeared from her face as the wonderful thoughts of Mr. Muscles were rudely interrupted.

“Hey baby, why don't you piss off before I smack you in the teeth with my pink handbag and make you cry for your mommy in front of your friends?” Lia said, not meaning a word of it, but hoping it would put him off before he actually annoyed her. She wasn't having a great day today and she wasn't in the mood to string anyone along for a drink. She knew the amount she'd need to drink to get past sober and put up with his company was far beyond his wallet's capabilities. The urge to smack someone was sometimes hard to resist with drunken guys falling over themselves to be a target.

“Oh please god, woman, keep your aggression issues to yourself. I'm begging you,” a growly and more confident voice came from behind her. Nick was back from his smoke break and was intent on placing himself between her and Mr. Pick up line, as usual, before she lost it and really had a go at someone. It was still early on Friday night, but she'd had a bad week and some idiot had tested her patience on her way here. The strange thing was she couldn't even remember why the week was so bad, just that it was. These days she often felt like that, no particular problems, just a general feeling of restlessness and aggravation. She also couldn't remember what the guy on the train had said or done, but when he grabbed her, she just snapped and smacked him on the nose with her forehead.