With all of the things vying for our attention daily — a lot of it available for free — it can be hard to separate the merely good content from the amazing content. Once in a while you come across something free that is so beautiful, inspiring and full of life, that you just have to share it with everyone you know. Here are three free things that have made a difference in my life, available in download form:  (drumroll…)

1. This American Life, the podcast.

I’m not American — I don’t even currently live in North America. However, hands down, the most compelling and beautifully crafted stories (true and fictional) I’ve ever heard have been on this radio program.

You can listen to every episode online in your browser, or download each week’s episode (only that week’s episode) in Itunes for free.

Start with:  http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/339/break-up (then click PLAY EPISODE)

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In the Four Hour Workweek, Tim Ferris talks about his simple, yet unconventional strategies for winning the Chinese National Kickboxing championship with relatively little kickboxing experience. How knowing the finer points of the rules and focusing on their weaknesses led him to win first prize in the tournament, simultaneously pissing off the whole of China. My mom was doing this Four Hour Workweek stuff — using existing rules and structures to her advantage, outsourcing her workload — before Tim Ferris joined his Highschool wrestling team. Back when he was still wearing tighty whities and Spiderman pajamas.

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“Three! Two! One! Go!” In perfect unison, the six of us lick the salt from the backs of our hands and down our double shots of tequila. We give a gasp and a celebratory cheer, as we slam our fifth (?) round of shot glasses down on the bar. “Come with us, we’re going to a house party a few towns over!” the blonde says. We all stumble out of the bar and jump into a cab-van. I will my eyes to focus on the digital clock. It’s 2 am. I’m loving life.

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First thing’s first: Matt Mays Rocks. (see below)

One cool thing about being so sick with the flu that it hurts to think, is that you have all kinds of free time.

I decided to ignore Tim Ferris’ advice and take a day to do things that could barely be construed as “productive” and not even remotely “goal-oriented.”

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A few weeks ago I wrote about coming back to Halifax for a job interview. Not just any job interview, but the job interview. I won’t get into specifics, but it was a job that I had wanted for some years now, and had been working towards. The past few weeks, I struggled though the difficult selection process, including a full-day of interviews and tests and a separate two-hour interview the week after. And unfortunately, I didn’t make the final cut. I made the backup list.

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“Dude, this is your fucking movie moment.”

I shoot a blank stare at Allusion.

“It’s like, if your life were a movie, this is the turning point, this is where you hop on a plane and say ‘Fuck yeah. I’m gonna do this shit’.” He pauses.

I’m at a Mexican restaurant having dinner with two famous pickup artists that I had interviewed recently for an article. They have since become good friends.

Allusion continues, “That, or you act like a scared pussy, ignore the opportunity, and pretend like nothing ever happened.”

It was true, but I didn’t need convincing. I knew what my choice was and I had already made it in my mind. One week notice at my job. Plane ticket reserved.

This was two days ago. Earlier in the day I had been contacted by a (here unnamed) Canadian/International Non-Profit Organization for a job interview that I had wanted since I realized I would actually have to work a “real job” after university.

The problem is I have a pretty sweet life going here in Osaka. Great friends, great lifestyle, decent (read: mindless) job… But even if I statistically have only a 40% chance of landing this job, I know that I have to do it. Not only do it, but give it 150%, which means cutting ties in Japan and planning as if I will be the next international field worker for X international organization. (You may say, what a cocky bastard, but in actual fact, I believe my chances to be closer to 90% based on my awesomeness and drive to achieve this goal).

So, back to Halifax it is.

I hate winter. I hate cold. And I really hate snow. But this is my movie moment, and I’m determined to direct my own film.

Hali: See yall soon. I’ll be intently focused and preparing until after the interview on the 11th of March. Then, the celebrations.

Below, a video of my roommate Erika, singing an improvised song about me leaving. (She doesn’t know it’s to the tune of Tenacious D’s F#$% Her Gently…)

I was staying at a youth hostel in Regina, Saskatchewan when I met her for the first time. It was October and apparently the off-season for tourists in Saskatchewan as she and I were the only guests that day. She said her name was “Hanna” but it was spelled Chana.

She arrived late evening, as I was making my dinner in the basement kitchen. She was was dressed kind of ‘hippie’ and was pretty, which was accentuated by a positive energy about her. I guessed her age at about 28.

She also had a guitar with her. This fact might not seem like a big deal, but I’m always mysteriously more attracted to women who have some musical talent.

I was, at the time, trying to hitchhike my way back to Halifax after having my money stolen from me in Vancouver and working a week as a laborer in Calgary. I had experienced a lot in the month I was gone, but I was ready to head home.

I told her my story and without giving it a thought she offered me a ride to Toronto, a whole three days away. She had all of her things from her home in Boulder, Colorado in the back of her station wagon for her big move to Toronto. “Are you sure? I mean, that’s a long time to be in a car with someone you don’t know…” I said, being hesitant to put her in a situation where she felt obligated to drive me.

We eventually agreed that she would drive me to Winnipeg, drop me off somewhere for the night, and whether she wanted to pick me up again the next morning was up to her, no hard feelings.

That night we went out and explored the bustling city of Regina and found… nothing. No live music, no night life, just good conversation and a quiet beer together back in the kitchen at the hostel. Chana played a song she wrote on her guitar – the chords were simple, but the lyrics suggested she had experienced more than her youthful face showed.

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