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    • Dancing Before It

      “There is a reason, after all, that some people wish to colonize the moon, and others dance before it as an ancient friend.” — James Baldwin

      I use this quote on the same day that SpaceX crashed a rocket booster into the moon. Honestly, I’d had it teed up for weeks. Let’s roll with the irony of using it on the same day that the world’s richest man made a new crater on the moon. One small crater for humanity. Oh how, uh, far we’ve come.

      I don’t have an issue with SpaceX or Musk, but I also don’t enjoy their ascendance into our collective consciousness. I may give a nod to scientific innovation and the gumption to pursue the final frontier, but I’m reluctant to have any company monopolize the sky above us. And the mass glamorization of the accumulation of infinite wealth and power is also not my game. One can be a profitable capitalist without gobbling up everything.

      I’m no idealist, but I’m more inclined to dance with the moon than dance on the graves of all the competitors put out of business in a dog-eat-dog culture. There’s room enough for all of us, if we don’t hoard all the good stuff in life for ourselves anyway. But that’s just my two cents on the matter. Then again, what’s a couple of pennies but chump change?

    • Do Not Waste Your Time in Driblets

      “Follow, my dear boy, an honorable calling, which shall engross your time and give you position and fame, and besides enable you to benefit your fellow man. Do not waste your time in driblets.” — Charles Sumner

      As you might have noticed, the blog posts are back with more frequency again. I like to be productive with my time, and subscribe to the use it or lose it theory of active living. The it in that expression may be my mind as much as my writing skills. When I write I’m an active seeker. When I don’t write I seek less. The answer seems to be to keep writing. But always with the caveat to seek more that is interesting. Now and then that actually translates to the blog. Fingers crossed.

      Some of that time not writing was used for reading more. We are what we consume, and I’m consuming far more lately than my average. A leftover book (from which I plucked the quote above) from a recent flurry of Paris-related reading is David McCullough’s The Greater Journey: Americans in Paris. The theme of the book is the quest for more beyond the ordinary. Aspiring for more, exceptional people in history sought out Paris in particular to find what they were missing.

      The thing is, I’d just finished McCullough’s excellent book, The Wright Brothers, and wasn’t looking to jump into another of his books so soon. I read a couple of chapters of another book with a promising title but quickly grew dissatisfied with my choice. I’d read three great books in a row, and wasn’t going to settle for something that bored me to tears. When you’ve tasted the possibility of greatness, why waste time on driblets? Dive vigorously into the full menu!

      Those Wright Brothers were a fine example in not wasting time. Intelligent, highly-focused, industrious and open to calculated risks, they changed the world. We all know of Kitty Hawk, but that first powered flight was but a first step. They had to then go show the world what they’d built, and how to use it. A significant part of their story happened in France. If you’re looking for inspiration to move beyond settling for the driblets in your own life, reading The Wright Brothers offers a glimpse into how to get it done.

      To do more with the opportunity at hand is the thing. We each have the same amount of time today to work with. Just what are we doing with the hours? Might we choose a more savory bite off of the menu? Don’t we owe it to ourselves to sprinkle a little zip on top? Today leads to tomorrow, after all. Be bold today, that we may look back in wonder at all we’ve done. We must never forget that its the doing that leads to the done.

    • Partake of Individuality

      “All greatness of character is dependent on individuality. The man who has no other existence than that which he partakes in common with all around him, will never have any other than an existence of mediocrity.”
      ― James Fenimore Cooper, The American Democrat

      Be yourself. The alternative is to blend in. Blending in may bring a sense of belonging, or the safety of numbers, or some such thing, but it slowly kills the soul. There is no personal excellence in blending in, there is only a meek settle for the average.

      Greatness of character is honed through not blending in. It’s standing out as somehow different from the rest. People attempting to blend in view unique as an affront to their own tactic, and will taunt, tease or torment those who are different. We think of middle school in moments like this, but it applies equally to adulthood. We never really grow up, we just play by different versions of the same rules.

      Arete is personal excellence, not being great at disappearing in the crowd. To opt out of what was expected of us for what we expect of ourselves is an act of boldness. As the expression often attributed to Goethe goes, boldness has genius, power and magic in it.

      We may choose to be bold today, and every day thereafter, to maximize the potential of this next part of the journey. Best case, we reach a level of greatness and person excellence we dared not imagine before. Worst case, we live a less mediocre life. The choice is clear: Partake of individuality. If only to make the ride ahead more thrilling.

    • Rising Through Active Filtering

      “The person who dumps garbage into your mind will do you considerably more harm than the person who dumps garbage on your floor, because each load of mind garbage negatively impacts your possibilities and lowers your expectations.”
      — Zig Ziglar

      I have people in my life who think as I do about the state of the world who are likely chagrined when I grow quiet when they begin complaining about the way things are. I simply don’t want to carry that burden. We know how the world is, we know its unfairness and cruelty and evil. What of it? It also remains beautiful, ripe with possibility and inherently good. Were it all bad the world would be chaos. Were it all good we would have nothing to improve upon. We are latest generation to reconcile human tendency with human potential.

      We will rise or fall depending on what we focus on. What we carry weighs us down. What we strive for stretches us in new, uplifting directions. Expecting more of ourselves isn’t a recipe for dissatisfaction, it’s a compass towards personal excellence. So stop with the garbage accumulation and clear the runway for something far better than what we’ve settled on. Decide what to be and go be it.

    • In Between

      And take your time babe
      It’s not as bad as it seemed
      You’ll be fine babe
      It’s just some rivers and streams
      In between, you and where you want to be
      — Glen Hansard, Song of Good Hope

      Inevitably, when you linger on anything in social media, you’re marked forever as interested in that particular thing you lingered on. The passing of Glen Hansard this week marked me as interested in the man and the legacy he leaves behind. Consider me marked, if you will. I don’t mind so much.

      Life lately seems to be a measure of who has come and gone. That’s life, after all. It sometimes takes us a few decades to figure this out, being so busy as we are with trying to get from where we were to where we want to be. Life is lived in between. Pay attention and feel the moments pass by. Let it tickle the senses; the joy of being alive and well in the here and now.

      So much of life is spent contemplating our destination, when really, life is right here unfolding before us. Hum that tune for awhile. Here we are, making the most of our fleeting days—these days in between.

    • Coming to Fullness

      I have my freedom
      today
      because
      nothing really happened

      and nobody came
      to see me.
      Only the slow
      growing of the garden
      in the summer heat

      and the silence of that
      unborn life
      making itself
      known at my desk,
      my hands
      still
      dark with the
      crumbling soil
      as I write
      and watch

      the first lines
      of a new poem,
      like flowers
      of scarlet fire,
      coming to fullness
      in a new light.
      — David Whyte, It Happens to Those Who Live Alone

      This summer is halfway over, and as usual, the flower garden peaked before the 4th of July. But here come the tomatoes, reminding us that the harvest is still to come. Days and weeks pass by with seemingly no progress, until one day there it is waiting for us to notice. Ripeness isn’t so much progression as a natural conclusion to the growing season. In this way, gardening and writing follow a similar path.

      Writing is inherently personal. Isolated. But never lonely. To create anything meaningful, one must mine something of oneself. To go deep within and pluck out bits that we believe maybe shouldn’t see the light of day. There they are anyway—read ’em and weep. Or laugh. Or sometimes simply relate. Like a ripening tomato, what was once green and not ready arrives at full ripeness. Now we must pluck it before it dies on the vine.

      This blog is posting on the 31st of July. Shockingly over too soon, this month. It’s always been this way. Life is a series of opportunities seized or slipped away from our grasp. It’s up to us to make the most of our days. A full life begins with doing something with the green idea ripening to fruition. Just what are we to be next? Where is this story going anyway? The harvest is still to come. The answer is to keep at it, as anyone growing anything would tell us.

    • RIP Glen Hansard

      I’m workin’ on the high hope
      And if it all works out, you might just see me
      Or hear from me in a while
      I’m gonna make it across this tight rope
      Then I’m comin’ for my prize
      No more I’ll be waitin’ ’round
      While life just passes by
      Maybe when our hearts realign
      Maybe when we’ve both had some time
      I’m gonna see you there
      — Glen Hansard, High Hope

      Hearing this morning that Glen Hansard was killed in a motorcycle accident in Dublin earlier today, leaving behind a wife and young child. Hansard joined the soundtrack I keep just for myself, in quiet times, when I’d grown weary of the noise and clutter of the world. He’ll live on there in my soundtrack, and perhaps yours too. Still, I think of those he leaves behind, and the shock of it all.

      I’m reminded of that Sting song at moments like this, about how fragile we are. Memento mori. And I’m reminded again to meet this moment squarely, for the gift that it represents. This is indeed all we have. Rest in Peace Glen Hansard.

    • Directional Intent

      “What’s in store for me in the direction I don’t take?” — Jack Kerouac, The Subterraneans

      Last week I had a Zoom call with a couple of guys I had locked in the amber of Amherst, 1994, when I coached them both to a successful conclusion to their rowing careers. They graduated, I moved to another life that I’m still living, and we hadn’t spoken in 32 years. We’ve each gone our ways, and yet forged a bond that reverberated all these years later. That year changed everything about me, and was the foundation of all that has followed.

      It’s easy to look back on crossroads and wonder about the road not taken. Would it have made a difference had we gone in that direction instead of this? No doubt, but have a look around at all that’s surrounded us on this journey. A full, happy life begins with gratitude for the abundance of here and now.

      “The good life is a process, not a state of being. It is a direction not a destination.” — Carl Rogers

      I smile to myself at people who push me to change for change’s sake. Those helpful souls who want me to work harder, or retire immediately while I’m “young”, or some such change of direction. As if their direction is mine because they wish it to be so. The only direction that matters is moving towards the person we wish to become. Bold leaps are lovely things to behold, but most of life is subtle shifts in our course towards better.

      Subtle can feel like drifting if we aren’t paying attention—savoring the best of now, wherever we are. That old expression, this too shall pass isn’t just about surviving the challenging times in life, it’s about reminding ourselves that it’s all passing by so very quickly, so pay attention and celebrate all that is, even as we look towards all that may be.

      Some years stand out as milestone years. Looking back and wondering who we might have been had we simply continued on a different path may make us consider what we missed in that direction, or it may make us realize that the path we’ve taken has offered plenty. Our directional intent brought us here, and will eventually bring us there (wherever that is). Turns out today is our crossroads, always. All milestones start from here. The magic isn’t in believing it to be so, but in witnessing it all unfold from here.

    • Fully Alive

      We slip in and out of rituals and routines. Like most people, I’d become dissatisfied with some of the things that used to wrap around me and call themselves a part of me. And I’ve grown equally dissatisfied for having let some good habits slip away. As with everything, it all depends on where we’re heading.

      The right routine, the right ritual, brings us closer to Arete (personal excellence). The wrong routines and rituals slide us sideways into the abyss. In this way, habits, routines and rituals are a very serious thing indeed.

      We have this one life to live, wherever it’s taking us. We tell ourselves that we don’t have time to waste on laziness and lack of focus. But is it laziness to focus on something other than a relentless drive to a goal? Consider a favorite poem:

      Oh do you have time
      to linger
      for just a little while
      out of your busy

      and very important day
      for the goldfinches
      that have gathered
      in a field of thistles

      for a musical battle,
      to see who can sing
      the highest note,
      or the lowest,

      or the most expressive of mirth,
      or the most tender?
      Their strong, blunt beaks
      drink the air

      as they strive
      melodiously
      not for your sake
      and not for mine

      and not for the sake of winning
      but for sheer delight and gratitude—
      believe us, they say,
      it is a serious thing

      just to be alive
      on this fresh morning
      in the broken world.
      I beg of you,

      do not walk by
      without pausing
      to attend to this
      rather ridiculous performance.

      It could mean something.
      It could mean everything.
      It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote:
      You must change your life.
      — Mary Oliver, Invitation

      When this day ends, as it inevitably will, what will we have done with it? Pursuit of a clear objective is a worthy goal, but so too is the bold act of simply being alive and aware of the delightful moment we find ourselves in. The trick, I think, is to follow the path but to take off the blinders. Not to succumb to distraction but rather to savor more of the flavor of the day. We are here, this is it, do we see all that is possible in this pregnant moment? Be delighted, be grateful, and above all else, be fully alive.

    • A Ritual of Now

      If you’ll forgive the brag, the garden is looking good this year. A bit of good luck was (and is always) involved, with rain happening while traveling to mitigate the impact of irregular watering in my absence, followed by a well-timed return to tend to things when the heat rose. Whether luck or accumulated experience planting things that are happy in the microclimate I place them in, the garden is thriving. The outcome of our lives is a combination of luck and the steady influence of consistent action. We can debate the ratio, or simply accept what is and what will be.

      If you’re reading this, you’re bucking the trend in the United States to read less. I find myself writing a little less to read a little more. We give our time to what we want in the moment. I’d like to finish more books this year, even if it’s at the expense of a few more blog posts. We tend to become what we measure. Life is too short to do everything we want to do in our time. I’d like to devoir a few more books each year than my present pace.

      I’ve always been a contrarian, a maverick, a rebel. If only in my own mind. The truth is I generally follow the rules and chafe at those who don’t. That explains my overall dismay at the state of things in the country and the exuberance of those who celebrate the downward spiral. But I’m not here to preach and complain. Like you, friend, I’m here to make strides forward.

      I walk toward
      the kitchen
      door as if walking
      toward the
      door of a recognized
      heaven

      and see the
      simplicity
      of shelves and
      the blue dishes
      and the
      vaporing
      steam rising
      from the kettle
      that called me in.

      Not just this
      aromatic cup
      from which to drink
      but the flavor
      of a life made whole
      and lovely
      through the
      imagination
      seeking its way.
      — David Whyte, At Home

      The long, hot days of July are upon us. We ought to dance with each day while it remains our partner. Soon it will be but a summer fling with time gone by. We are here, now, living as we do. In the quest to become what’s next, we shouldn’t lose sight of what is. The way from here is worth contemplating, but never lose sight of the ritual of now. To celebrate and savor all of this is our bold act of presence. So be bold, and savor this day.