Think Up

Weekly wisdom to level up your creative life in 3 minutes, for free.

A SHORT STORY

Over the past few months, I have been incorporating a simple practice that I learned from the writer Elizabeth Gilbert.

Each morning, I ask: “Dear love, what will you have me know today?”

In many ways, this is a form of prayer—an accessible path to find a connection with myself on a daily basis. This daily question not only centers me but also opens my heart to new insights.

A few days ago, in response to the question, I wrote: “Think up.”

This phrase reminded me of a piece of advice I was given by my master teacher, Sivakumar Gurukkal, in 2014.

After spending a week living with him and practicing Kalaripayattu, the world’s oldest martial art, he relayed this advice as we were saying goodbye.

He grabbed my torso, pulled it up, and said three words: “Michael, think up.”

As I climbed into the rickshaw and waved, these words resonated in my head as they do now.

“Think up.”

Often, when I feel lost, I repeat this phrase in my head—a simple reminder to aim high, to aim for what is good.

Next time you feel lost, try thinking up. You might be surprised at the clarity it brings.

How can you think up today? How can you put the answer into practice?

A CREATIVE TOOL

I spend a lot of time thinking and writing about the intersection of creativity and technology. What I have found is that the advancement of AI video models continues to be one of the most exciting and complicated tools to disrupt the creation process.

For instance, check out the Toys ‘R’ Us commercial below that was made entirely with Open AI’s Sora. What will this mean for the future of filmmaking and media? How will we adapt our process with these tools? How will this further expand our imaginations?

A PIECE OF ART

“Theology” by Ocean Vuong

Do you remember when I tried to be good.

It was a bad time.

So much was burning without a source.

I’m sorry I was so young.

I didn’t mean it.

It’s just this thing is heavy.

How could anyone hold all of it & not melt.

I thought gravity was a law, which meant it could be broken.

But it’s more like a language. Once you’re in it

you never get out. A fool, I climbed out the window

just to look at the stars.

It was too dark & the crickets sounded like people I know

saying something I don’t.

I think I had brothers.

Think I heard them crying once, then laughing, until the laughing

was just in my head.

That’s how it is here: leaky.

One day, while crossing the creek, I met a boy.

Lips red as a scraped knee.

When our eyes met, he gasped. Then raised his rifle.

That’s how I found out I was a squirrel.

That’s how I lost my tail, the only thing I was great at.

I don’t know what my name is but I can feel it.

A throbbing in the blood.

Last night, I heard a voice & climbed

to the tallest branch, so high I forgot all the rules.

It was like being skinned into purpose.

Below me was a rectangle the man had been digging all night.

I watched him a long time, his body a question mark unravelling.

When the light grew pink, the man stopped.

Others, in black coats, gathered around him.

I know I was put here for a reason, but I spend most days

just missing everybody.

The man lowered a box into the slot he had dug.

As if pushing a coin into a giant machine.

That must be how they pay to be here.

Grateful,

Michael