Episode 24: Presence, Peace, and the Joy of "Riding the Wave"

Welcome the Carousel of Happiness Podcast. On today's episode, we talk about  what happened on the podcast last week, how it relates to the carousel, and how we’re going to move forward together on the podcast. Host Allie Wagner tells you about a text she got from a friend, as well as one she got from Scott about last week’s episode.

The Carousel of Happiness is a nonprofit arts & culture organization dedicated to inspiring happiness, well-being, and service to others through stories and experiences.

If you enjoy the podcast, please consider visiting the Carousel of Happiness online (https://carouselofhappiness.org/), on social media (https://www.facebook.com/carouselofhappiness), or in real life; or consider donating (https://carouselofhappiness.app.neoncrm.com/forms/general-donation) to keep the carousel and its message alive and spinning 'round and 'round.

If you have a story to share, please reach out to Allie Wagner at outreach@carouselofhappiness.org

Special thanks to songwriter, performer, and friend of the carousel, Darryl Purpose (https://darrylpurpose.com/), for sharing his song, "Next Time Around," as our theme song.

Transcript

Welcome to the Carousel of Happiness Podcast. I’m your host, Allie Wagner. 

On last week’s episode, we took a little bit of a stylistic departure on the podcast. I didn’t record a traditional episode, but instead, opted to go with the flow just a bit. 

On today’s episode, we’re going to talk about what happened last week, how it relates to the carousel, and how we’re going to move forward together on the podcast. I’ll tell you about a text I got from a friend, and one I got from Scott about last week’s episode.

Let us begin with today’s story.

GONG

Bill Atkinson, a former computer designer at Apple, died this week. Atkinson developed some of the company’s most important software, including QuickDraw, which allowed old Apple computers to draw images and windows on the screen, something that was not done at the time. Atkinson also invented HyperCard, a software development kit that is widely considered to be the forerunner to the Internet. 

Atkinson also did lots of other computer-y things I don’t understand enough to explain to you right now, but get this: if it weren’t for Bill Atkinson you would not have had the experience of double-clicking a mouse. That’s right. Atkinson invented key aspects of graphical computing, like “pull down” menus and the famous double-click. 

Can you imagine a world before double clicking a mouse was a thing?

I learned all of this stuff first thing this morning. Because I woke up to a text message from a friend who lives in Japan who sent me the New York Times article about Bill Atkinson at three o’clock this morning. It was the first thing I saw on my phone.

What stood out to me when I read the article was a story about how Steve Jobs personally recruited Atkinson to join the Apple team in 1978.

At the time, Atkinson was a doctoral student in neuroscience when Steve Jobs approached him about working for Apple. Atkinson initially declined; he was in a PhD program, after all.

But then, Steve Jobs sent him a nonrefundable plane ticket and gave him a three-hour pitch on why he thought he should join the company. 

“Think about surfing on the front edge of a wave,” Jobs said to Atkinson in that three-hour meeting. “It’s really exhilarating. Now think about dog paddling at the tail end of that wave. It wouldn’t be anywhere near as much fun. Come down here and make a dent in the universe.”

Atkinson accepted the offer and never ended up finishing his PhD. He was Apple’s 51st employee.

My friend shared the article about Bill Atkinson because he, personally, had one of the first Macintosh from 1984 and remembered seeing Atkinson’s name pop up every time you opened a program. My friend always wondered who that guy was and what he did to appear so often.

I don’t think it’s an accident that my friend sent me that article this morning. We don’t talk very often, but occasionally share articles or clips from the internet when they remind us of relevant stories or memories. I don’t think it’s an accident that he happened to send me that article this morning. On podcast day.

“Think about surfing on the front edge of a wave,” Steve Jobs said.

That’s what last week’s podcast felt like to me. I was surfing on the front edge of a wave. Didn’t know where I was going. Or whether or not I’d crash. I can’t, for the life of me, even remember what I said, but I can tell you exactly how it felt. 

Exhilarating. Breathtaking. Fun. Easy. Joyful. I felt self-assured and self-confident. I felt peaceful. At ease. Relaxed.

I felt like me. Not pinched off “me” or egoic “me,” but the whole “me.” The authentic “me,” the easy “me”. The “me” I allow myself to be in the moments when no one is looking. In the moments between the busy-ness, in the moments between the dog paddling.

What I loved about getting that message this morning was that my friend sent it to me because it meant something to him. But that meaning was entirely different. I didn’t have a Macintosh in 1984. I had never seen Atkinson’s name until today.

But I did resonate with the image of surfing the front edge of a wave. I needed to hear that today. On podcast day. 

But my friend didn’t know any of that. He sent it to me because he was inspired to. Because he felt called to. Because he just wanted to. Because it felt good to.

I can’t help but notice details like that. I can’t help but make connections like that. It is how my mind works. It is how my art works.

Scott’s artistic medium is wood. Mine is words. Scott uses tools like chisels and vices. I use tools like prepositions and pauses.

*

Last week, after I uploaded the podcast, I got a text from Scott. He was in his shop carving an ocelot and was listening to the podcast at the same time. He wanted to let me know he thought I was on to something. He wanted to let me know that I had touched on some ideas that resonated within him.

Listen to yourself. Trust your kinder instincts. Allow yourself to experience a heartfelt and important thought. And hold on to this moment, this deliciously decadent present moment of genuine human feeling, rather than letting the feeling get dissolved because “you’re busy.” Because you’re dog paddling in the whitewater.

According to Scott, the carousel is a representation of something that sits in each of our hearts in different ways. For Scott, his experience of presence is captured in wood. It is captured in the operation of gears and widgets. Antiquated pieces of technology that he, himself, learned how to operate and put together.

For Bill Atkinson, we see his experience of the present moment through programs like QuickDraw and HyperCard. According to Steve Perlman, a young Apple hardware engineer at the time, looking at Bill Atkinson’s code “was like looking at the Sistine Chapel.”

I have no concept of what that could possibly mean, but my boss does. Melody Baumhover has saved the carousel thousands of dollars because she knows how to code. Because she wanted to learn it in high school for fun. And because she knows how to code she has made this elaborate carousel-specific network that allows us to collect all of the data we need to maintain safety and efficiency and track ridership and get grants and all of that kind of stuff. She is a whiz at seeing to the efficient and effective operation of Scott’s gift.

Scott works in wood. Melody works in efficiency. I work in words.

I used to think that my gift with words came from my mind. My brain. My central processing unit. But I now know that’s not true at all.

My gift with words comes from my heart, not my brain. It comes from my heart’s ability to sit with a feeling long enough for my brain to find a label for it. A term. A phrase. A sound. A pause. My gift with words comes from my heart’s ability to sit with the sensations of a present moment and find the exact, precise word to describe it.

That’s what I was doing last week. I was giving my heart the opportunity to feel and find words in front of a microphone in front of you.

Because my job at the carousel is not just to share the story of the carousel. That’s what I thought this podcast was about all along. But I know now, it’s not just that. My job at the carousel is to share elements of the carousel’s story in a way that you find resonance with them. In a way that might inspire you to try something new. To show up in your community in a different way. To pick up the paintbrush again. To finally plant that garden.

And I do that through stories. I do that through this podcast. I do that through the words that I choose and the ones that I don’t. I do that through the interviews I choose to do, and the topics I choose to cover.

Just like my friend in Japan, you might resonate with this story in a completely different way. You might connect the dots between you and Scott differently, and that’s 100% encouraged.

I read the other day that the probability of a human being being born is 400 trillion to one. 400 trillion. I have no idea how many zeros that is.

But I do know it means you’re not an accident. And neither am I.  And neither is Scott. Scott was perfectly positioned to express himself through the renovation and restoration of a carousel. Not through code. Not through words. Scott hates talking about himself. 

But I like talking about him. And I like talking about myself. And I like talking about the connections I see between his story and my own. I like seeing the similarities and the differences. I like learning about myself through this podcast.

And I like sharing all of that with you. 

Your life’s expression might have nothing to do with art at all. You might be an accountant or an engineer or a coder. You might experience those quiet moments by resolving conflict as a skilled mediator or, as is the case for Melody, by making the carousel a well-oiled, data-driven machine.

This week, I encourage you to find moments where you can just “be.” Moments when you can experience a heartfelt and important thought and hold on to that feeling as long as you can, rather than allow it to dissolve into the busy-ness, into the whitewash.

And maybe, in that moment, you’ll feel called to carve an ocelot like Scott. Or build a sandcastle with your kid. Maybe, in that moment, you feel called to do something that feels easy and fun and exhilarating and joyful and easy and..and…

I highly recommend it. Surfing that wave is fun. Even if you don’t know where you’re going. Or whether or not you'll crash. Or whether or not it’s any good. 

The expression of you in the present moment is why you’re here. It’s why out of 400 trillion options, the universe or god or science or insert whatever noun feels good to you chose you. Right now. Just as you are.

You are not an accident.

And, just like Scott, you are perfectly suited to the task at hand. Whatever it may be for you. 

There has never, nor will there ever, be another you. Which means you’re perfect. You nailed it. You are doing you better than anyone else could ever do you and by the way you came out of the oven specifically with all the right tools to make you the best you. 

And the same is true for me. I come to this place in my life, exactly as I am, perfectly suited to reach for the life that I want. 

And so do you.

Moving forward on the podcast, we’re still going to tell stories about the carousel, but it is my intention to bring more of myself to the story. One, because it’s how my mind works. Two, I’m trusting in the uniqueness of my being. And the uniqueness of me being at this exact place at this exact moment with these exact gifts. 

It is not an accident that I’m here with you. And it is not an accident you’re here with me. And together, we’re not just going to explore the stories and experiences from the Carousel of Happiness, but we’re going to learn to embody them too. To put them to work in our communities and our lives. 

That’s how this “thing” – this thing Scott created – becomes something larger. It’s how it takes a life of its own. That’s how we can see the ripple effects spreading far and wide.

In the meantime, take care. Be well. And, as we like to say at the Carousel of Happiness, “don’t delay joy.” And we’ll see you next time around.