The Death Clock Is Ticking (Carpe Diem, Motherfucker)
I put a death clock on my desk—not to be dark, but to stay honest. Life doesn’t last forever. So the question is: what are you doing today that actually matters?
Your True Nature Calling: What Jane’s Addiction Taught Me About Empathy, Power, and Being Understood
“How you treat the weak is your true nature calling.”—Jane’s Addiction, True Nature
I was sitting in my car, about to go pick up my daughter, when it came through the speakers.
I thought to myself, what a line.
Not because it sounded cool—though it did. But because it was true. The kind of truth that cuts through noise and sticks with you for life.
Having worked in restaurants, and being married to a hairstylist, I’ve seen firsthand how people treat service workers. It’s one thing to be polite to your boss. It’s another thing entirely to be kind to someone filling your water glass or sweeping hair off the floor.
And that’s the real test:
How you treat someone with less power than you is who you really are.
That’s your true nature calling.
“Now I Wish We All Waved”
Another Perry Farrell lyric that lives rent-free in my brain comes from No One’s Leaving:
“I wish I knew everyone's nickname,
All their slang and all their sayings,
Every way to show affection,
How to dress to fit the occasion.
Now I wish we all waved.”
That’s empathy in verse. That’s curiosity without judgment.
Perry didn’t just want to be cool—he wanted to understand.
I’ve thought about that a lot since living in Korea. I wasn’t fluent, but I tried. I spoke Korean when I could, and even the smallest effort changed how people treated me.
(I wrote more about that here, in a story that starts with me peeing my pants and ends with me caring a lot less what people think.)
You don’t need perfect grammar to earn a smile. Just a little respect. Just a willingness to meet someone in their world.
(I wrote more about that here, in a story that starts with me peeing my pants and ends with me caring a lot less what people think.)
You don’t need perfect grammar to earn a smile. Just a little respect. Just a willingness to meet someone in their world.
Language is a bridge. A signal that says: I see you. I care enough to try.
And when you start walking that bridge, your perspective shifts. In America, the Second Amendment is sacred. In Korea, guns are locked in the police station. You sign them out to go hunting, then bring them back. There’s no culture war about it. No mass shootings. Just a different way to live.
That’s what that lyric gets at:
Wanting to know people. Their slang. Their rituals. Their worldview.
Wanting to wave, not because it’s polite—but because it’s human.
Three Days of Everything
And then there’s Three Days.
The epic. The masterwork. Ten minutes of shifting time, space, and spirit. It goes from a whisper to a war cry. From sensual to sacred. It’s not just a song—it’s a ceremony.
When I was younger, I loved it because it sounded like nothing else. Now, I love it because it feels like everything at once: grief, lust, transcendence, loss, rebirth. All in one track.
To me, it was like The End by The Doors, brought into the ’90s. Same apocalyptic sprawl. Same hypnotic buildup. Just seen through a different lens—less psychedelic haze, more raw nerve.
Jane’s Addiction didn’t just rock. They reached. They aimed high. They asked big questions.
Music for the seekers, the misfits, the spiritually restless.
And Perry Farrell—God bless him—was the poet-priest at the center of it all.
Waving Back
I still wish we all waved.
Waved at strangers. Waved across languages. Waved at the people cleaning hotel rooms and refilling glasses and shampooing hair. Waved not out of politeness, but out of recognition.
Because seeing people is different than just looking at them. Really seeing someone—like, locking eyes and letting them know they matter—is rare. But when it happens, it’s magic.
Have you ever had that moment? You meet someone’s gaze and sense they feel good just because they’ve been seen. Not judged. Not analyzed. Just… seen.
In a world that teaches us to compete, compare, and dominate, Perry Farrell reminded us to connect.
To treat people like they matter.
To want to understand instead of control.
To listen.
To wave.
That’s your true nature calling.
“Know what’s enough. Build what matters.”
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