If you’re someone who reads much of my stuff, you know I think primarily in metaphor and analogy.  I like to call these creative metaphors and creative analogies.  What does that mean?  It means they’re wildly expansive.

As Robert Plant sings in Stairway to Heaven:

“Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.”

Creative metaphors and analogies have way more than two meanings.  They’re infinite—and they can roll on and on and on once you learn how to think like I do.

A Song Full of Symbols

Let’s talk more about one of my favorite metaphors: The Central Trust.

Bruce Springsteen sings about it in Atlantic City—a song, by the way, chock-full of creative metaphors once you stop hearing it in the obvious way: a guy down on his luck who takes his girl to Atlantic City (a metaphor for risk) for the night.

Wow—can you just feel the rush of expansiveness that sits underneath that hood?

He withdraws some money from The Central Trust.  What does he do with it?  Buys two tickets on the Coast City Bus.

Man, I could riff on that one for hours.  Someday I will.  For now, here’s a clue—see if you can crack it.

Your True Account

When I refer to The Central Trust, I’m talking about your creative energy.  You know that feeling—when you have so much inside you that you have to output it somewhere? 

Man, that’s fire 🔥.

But what about when it runs low?  And believe me—it can run really low.  Trust me, I’ve been there.

How do you fill it back up?

By the way, creative energy is just another way of saying your spirit, your soul, your true self.

So, how do you renew your spirit?  That’s the question.  And it’s different for everyone.

My Deposits in the Central Trust

Movement

Do something.  For me, it’s primarily skiing and hiking.  I have a bike, but I mostly just ride it to WinCo and back. 

Skiing really lights me up—but you can’t ski all year, at least not in Maine and Montana.  So I hike.  Hiking works just as well, maybe better, because I pause more to take in the beauty.

Hiking hits me with endorphins, dopamine, and calm.  Skiing gives me all that — plus a rush of adrenaline.  Both replenish the account.

Nature

This always overlaps with skiing and hiking—but sometimes it’s just driving.

Paradise Valley at 80 MPH is pretty awesome.  If you’ve ever done it, you know what I mean.  And yes, that is indeed the speed limit.  The drive from Livingston to Gardiner is stunning.  

The Absarokas blowing across the windshield the whole way.  Or how about rolling down out of Big Sky in the evening, when suddenly the Bridger Range fills the sky?

For me, the mountains put everything in perspective.  No matter what storms hit them, they stand tall and turn it into wild beauty. 

Life lesson: Be a mountain.

Music

I don’t tend to have music on when hiking or driving.  Sometimes skiing—music pairs well with adrenaline.

When I was younger, I played a lot of guitar.  I haven’t played in years, but you can probably tell that I listen to a lot of music when I write.  I get up early—sometimes really early—start the coffee, and crank the music.  

It’s good for working through emotion, especially the hard stuff.  Music lifts me up.  Reminds me to stand up, fight back, and to soar.  That’s the balance of life, really.

As Kenny Rogers sings in The Gambler.

You’ve got to know when to hold ’emKnow when to fold ’emKnow when to walk awayAnd know when to run

Closing Thoughts

Those are my ways of refilling The Central Trust.  They won’t be the same for everyone, and that’s the point.  We all have our own ways of making deposits—our own rituals that restore the fire.  

If you’ve found something that helps you recharge your creative energy, hit me up here.  I’d love to hear how you keep your own Central Trust full.