I’m looking for more motivation in life, just as many of you claim to be. I don’t know if people got more stuff done in 1900, but movies and gossip websites are killing it for me. I’d say Facebook too, but then I’d have to admit to spending hours every day cruising for junk trip photos and that’s not something I’d like to make public knowledge. But kudos to the girls who make their profile pic a bikini shot: your album is so much easier to find.
Since I haven’t been able to generate any actual motivation, I’ve taken to the next best thing, which is of course watching motivational YouTube videos. These range from the brilliant Nike ads of people running in the rain, to lectures from terminally ill professors telling you to live life to the fullest. I laugh, I get teary, I resolve to make new decisions in life. But unfortunately, these decisions are always about which motivational video to click next.
There are the sports ones, the TED talks, the bios of very successful people with one small failure that is overemphasized to prove that yes, they’re just like you. There are wise old men who tell me not to give up on my dreams and Ray Lewis’ locker room speeches about reaching my potential. A lot of them are mashups of movie quotes: Al Pacino’s “Inch by Inch” speech, an assembly gathered to learn about what Mr. Holland has meant to all of us, and Will Smith in “The Pursuit of Happyness” talking to his son before Jaden became an asshole. With each click I say, “yes, that’s very good—YES, I can do it.”
The questions keep coming, though. Gravel-voiced narrators growl: “Are you different than the rest?” “Do you have what it takes?” “Is it in you?” I begin to get self-conscious. I look around the room to check that my boss hasn’t caught me YouTubing. And to see what videos the rest of the office is watching.
Hmmm, Mark’s watching the new Macklemore video. That unmotivated fool! I’m learning that Tony Robbins serves turkeys to people on Thanksgiving. I am different! I’m hardcore!
My favorites are the morning ones. The sun is rising but it’s that sexy gray-purple out and a severe looking white woman with her hair in a ponytail is running on the road. Across town two men have hopped into a crew boat and are rowing as bleary eyed revelers watch on. I used to hate these people with a passion. I’d get home at 6am after a night of clubbing and a whole world would be up reminding me that I’d wasted the next day and I just kind of sucked. Watching it at 3pm in the office is a whole different story. I imagine that I am that woman, and I’m up at 4:45am and out the door. It’s only me and the road. I resolve right then and there to get up early and make something of my day.