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    • Election Day, United States

      Polls open at 7 this morning, but I’m awake at 5 AM ready to go. I run through a list of necessary chores like folding laundry and taking the trash bin to the curb for pick-up. Glancing up I see Venus shining through the leftover clouds to remind the waning gibbous moon that it isn’t the only show in town. Rain overnight and my ankle reminds me to get back to working out soon, if only to lose a few pounds acquired since the last hike.

      The shirt selection was easy this morning. The Mount Gay Rum shirt to honor a voter who can’t be here with us today to do the one thing he wanted to do most: help vote the current President out of office. He was a Navy guy and saw through bullshit as quickly as anybody I know. I saw through it too and my vote is his vote today.

      Election Day in the United States is an ebb and flow event. Some years there’s a slight buzz about the upcoming election and banter between the parties. Other years get a lot of attention, with an urgency to vote to keep the country on track. And then there’s 2020, when the worst candidate this country ever elected is up for re-election. 2020 isn’t a roar, it’s a hurricane raging over an earthquake. This year the election is setting records well before election day, with absentee ballots cast, and pre-voting in states that allow it blowing away previous voting records for entire elections.

      Which brings us to today. I’m skipping the coffee this morning until after I vote, anticipating a long line to pick up my ballot. Heck, I’m expecting a long line just to get a parking spot. So no full bladder this morning, thank you. Today we vote for our representatives for Senate and the House of Representatives, for state and local officials, and we vote for President. But we vote as if nothing else matters this morning. Because in many ways, nothing else does.

      The Founding Fathers gave me (as an educated white male) the right to vote in the Constitution. It took the 15th Amendment to give people of color the right to vote. And it took the 19th Amendment to finally give women the right to vote. And so here we are, finally all united, with our collective right to vote. When enough people choose to participate we get the country we want. When too many skip the election thinking it doesn’t matter we get the country we deserve. The last four years have been a lesson for those who weren’t previously paying attention. Today matters. Vote.

    • Going to Zero

      “You’re alive. You have one very short life. When your life ends, it goes to zero. To you its indistinguishable, from your perspective your death is indistinguishable from the end of the world. As far as you’re concerned the world has disappeared. Because when you came into existence the world appeared. When you go out of existence the world disappears. And that is so consequential that it makes the rest of your life inconsequential. And that is a form of freedom. And so you should enjoy yourself. You should not suffer in this life.” – Naval Ravikant, on The Tim Ferriss Show Episode #473

      There’s something very stoic about this Naval statement, in the recognition of Memento Mori. The stoics might have challenged him on the enjoy yourself/you should not suffer bit though. They would say that you should accept fate for whatever it brings you. Then again, they didn’t live in a democracy where all are created equal, but in an age of conquest and slavery and the unfair distribution of enjoying yourself and suffering in life (maybe we haven’t come as far as I initially thought). But ultimately I think he’s on point. Life is short, we all know that. So get on with enjoying it while you have it.

      “Think of the life you have lived until now as over and, as a dead man, see what’s left as a bonus and live it according to Nature. Love the hand that fate deals you and play it as your own, for what could be more fitting?”- Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

      On my own path to zero, I’m doing my best to live the Thoreau mantra to rise free from care before the dawn and seek adventure. And isn’t that the same thing, really? The question is, what do you subtract to add such adventure or freedom to your life? Relentless pursuit of status? What is status but the recognition of others for your accomplishments? There’s nothing wrong with accomplishments. There is something off about craving status for status’ sake. To be quietly satisfied with reaching your goal seems the most pure form of accomplishment. Accolades blow in the wind.

      Naval talks of reaching freedom through making enough money to not have to worry about anything. And there’s certainly freedom in that. But what is the cost of a walk in the woods watching the leaves rain down around you? What is the price of tracking the progress of Mars across the evening sky? The trick, I think, is to get to enough. For some that means being independently wealthy, for others, it means having enough to put food on the table with the time to burn those calories climbing personal mountains.

      “Watch the stars in their courses and imagine yourself running alongside them. Think constantly on the changes of the elements into each other, for such thoughts wash away the dust of earthly life.” – Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

      There’s a reason that boats, recreational vehicles, bicycles and hiking gear are selling out this year. People are seeking that freedom and enjoyment. Trying to book a campsite in Acadia, hiking jammed trails in the White Mountains and navigating the bike-clogged rail trail are glaring reminders of just how many people are looking for their freedom to enjoy life in a year when climbing the corporate ladder seems suddenly less relevant than holding on to things that are more essential.

      Since we’re all marching to zero, finding that which is essential and then making the most of our time seems the only logical goal. Not living in a chaotic frenzied orgy of mad pleasure-seeking, but in the pursuit of that which is worthy and towards purpose. To use Ryan Holiday’s words from The Daily Stoic; “too many successful people are prisoners in jails of their own making”. So freedom to fully realize your life is attainable for all if we would only unlock our own cages.

    • November and the Ninth Wave

      “November retained its name (from the Latin novem meaning “nine”) when January and February were added to the Roman calendar.” – Wikipedia

      And there it is: November. I’ve wondered about October before. I mean, “octo” is eight yet October was the tenth month. I hadn’t thought much about the origin of November until I stared at the November 1 on my calendar a beat longer than normal. And so here we are, with “novem” forever associated with nine for me. (novem ≠ 11, novem = 9, but November is the 11th month so deal with it. Don’t even get me started on December). We learn through association. Those Romans forever shaped the minutia of our world…

      November has always had a special place in my heart, for in the Northern Hemisphere its the month of quiet walks on crunchy fallen leaves, when the world opens up to reveal all that was hidden previously by foliage. In the United States November is associated with Thanksgiving, the very best of holidays (at least in my family) because it’s only about giving thanks together with family and friends. There are November birthdays of note in the family, and personally, one very notable anniversary coming up in a few days to punctuate the importance of the month in this household.

      And then there’s the election. Every four years in the United States we have the national election to choose our President. The “first Tuesday after the first Monday” of November was chosen and made into law in 1845 “to establish a uniform time for holding elections for electors of President and Vice President in all the States of the Union.” So Election Day can never be held on November 1, since it must follow the first Monday (unless the law is changed of course).

      This year has been relentlessly charging along, both rapid in the spinning of days and painfully slow in getting it all over with. Nobody who loves life wishes away time, but we all wish away the current situation we find ourselves in. November marks the moment when we vote and either validate the current administration or reject it wholeheartedly and install new leadership. I know where my vote goes. Choose wisely with your own vote, fellow citizens.

      In sailing the ninth wave in succession is the largest. It’s the one that might sink the ship and drown the crew. I reflect back on the stunning masterpiece Ninth Wave by Ivan Aivazovsky that I was blessed to see once in my lifetime. The Ninth Wave offers a glimmer of hope for those clinging to the mast in a raging sea. The sun is rising through the storm, marking a turning point of sorts. Danger remains all around and there’s no guarantee of survival, but again, there’s hope. And that’s what I think about on this first day of November. November (novem), marks the turning of the seasons towards winter. Change is coming. We all know it, and now we all face it. With hope.

    • Where The Knowing Is

      “The explorer returned to his people, who were eager to know about the Amazon. But how could he ever put into words the feelings that flooded his heart when he saw exotic flowers and heard the night-sounds of the forest; when he sensed the danger of wild beasts or paddled his canoe over treacherous rapids?
      He said, “Go and find out for yourselves.” To guide them he drew a map of the river. They pounced upon the map. They framed it in their town hall. They made copies of it for themselves. And all who had a copy considered themselves experts on the river, for did they not know its every turn and bend, how broad it was and how deep, where the rapids were and where the falls?”
      – Anthony De Mello, The Explorer

      Reading this story three times, my mind flashed back on moments over the last year when I transcended the maps: hiking trails where every rock was a wince, Scottish roads that proved narrower and a spouse who grew more horrified by the non-existent shoulder than the oncoming truck, carefully arranged graduation reservations scrapped by COVID and a banner at the ready should a party someday be a reality. Each an example of what I thought I knew turned on its head. Each a learning experience.

      2020 was the big number on the horizon we all wondered about. Places we’d be, events we’d experience, moments we’d celebrate. Now we’re all living through the actual 2020, in ways that we didn’t anticipate. It’s just like any other map or plan in that way. Each event, each trip, each person and each day won’t be what you expected in some way or another. The maps and guides and itineraries and YouTube videos of those who went before help frame things, but you’ve got to go out and experience life to really know anything at all.

      We all think we know how things are going to turn out. But living through the moment, exploring and testing our limits of understanding and endurance, going and finding out for yourselves, that’s where the knowing is. That’s where we fully realize the feelings that flood our hearts.

    • Visiting Waterfalls in the Rain

      Cleveland has a reputation for being all concrete and manufacturing plants on the edge of the lake. The “mistake by the lake” as some would say. But Cleveland is also ringed with an extensive park system, the “emerald necklace” that offers access to beautiful places nearby. All you’ve got to do is seek it out. I’ve made it a practice to be a seeker of beautiful places wherever I go, and this trip to Cleveland wasn’t going to be an exception.

      I stayed in a hotel in Independence, largely because it was between places I was going to for business meetings. What I learned quickly was it was also in close proximity to the Cuyahoga Valley National Park. There’s a waterfall in this park, Brandywine Falls, that is supposed to be stunning. I didn’t have the time to visit Brandywine on this trip, but will save it for the next one. Instead I looked at smaller falls within 15 minutes or the hotel and found two very close to each other in the Bedford Reservation: Great Falls at Tinker Creek and Bridal Veil Falls. I silently plotted a visit, and when Thursday morning remained open I had my opportunity to see them both.

      Waze told me I was 16 minutes from Great Falls, and I made my way there first. It was pouring out, reminding me of visiting the Isle of Skye exactly a year ago with the constant soaking raw rain. And here I was again, chasing beautiful places in soaking rain. I stopped at a store and bought a $6 umbrella that felt like it would fold in half in the first gust of wind. It turned out to be just enough for me to ignore the rain and focus on the task at hand: finding the falls.

      Waze sent me to the viaduct instead, and after walking on the paths down to the edge of a long drop to the river I realized this wasn’t the place. Getting my bearings using the park maps I figured out where Waze had steered me wrong and saw that I was actually closer to Bridal Veil Falls and went there next. The benefit of the steady rain was I was joyfully socially isolated. No COVID in the park today, thank you. The mask remained in my pocket. The drawback was nobody to offer recommendations, but heck, I’m an explorer at heart. Go explore.

      Bridal Veil Falls was more obvious, with a parking lot and good signage. There’s a boardwalk that helps you navigate the walk down to the falls easily. This makes this site good for all ages. With the stairs it would be challenging for wheelchairs to get all the way to the falls using this path, but there seemed to be an alternative on the other side of the river that might have worked. Bridal Veil Falls was roaring from all the rain, and reminded me of similar falls I’ve visited in Ithaca, New York.

      Bridal Veil Falls, roaring on this wet day
      Deerlick Creek above the falls. Wooden bridge and pathway up to the road.

      Checking my watch I knew I had time to visit the elusive Great Falls, and reviewed the map again. The problem wasn’t Waze, it was the operator who put Viaduct Park in as the destination instead of Great Falls. As is almost always the case, it was user error and I was the user. A quick drive got me where I needed to be and I took my cheap umbrella for another walk.

      If Bridal Veil Falls is deep in the park, Great Falls is on the edge of town. Cleveland Metroparks offers this description of the site: “Great Falls of Tinkers Creek shows the natural beauty and historic relevance to the development of Bedford“. Hint: “historic” and “development”. The falls are beautiful but the site isn’t pristine. There are ruins of an old grist mill on the edge of the falls and graffiti from some misguided soul that ruined a beautiful photo op. Just downstream is a large stone viaduct that used to support trains. These falls had a vibe closer to the Pawtucket Falls in Lowell, Massachusetts. Still beautiful, but more… “industrial revolution“. The rain ensured I had it all to myself, and I was careful with my footing on the wet leaves and mud. Didn’t want to be that tourist who slid into the river with his cheap umbrella and iPhone.

      And with that it was time to drive to the airport, only 30 minutes away, but seemingly much further. That’s the benefit of parks like this; you can be deep into natural beauty in minutes. And as I drove past a sea of concrete and steel and asphalt on my way to the rental car drop-off, I was grateful for the reprieve. You never know what the world offers just around the corner until you go look for it.

      Great Falls of Tinker’s Creek
      Stone Viaduct with the modern railroad bridge just downstream from Great Falls

    • Questions

      “Said the monk, “All these mountains and
      rivers and the earth and stars—where do
      they come from?”
      Said the master, “Where does your
      question come from?”
      – Anthony De Mello, The Question

      One part of the writing process I value is that it fuels better questions. What’s the story behind that monument? How did this mountain I’m hiking get its name? Where do we go from here? What is the author really trying to say here? And of course, spiritual questions about creation and science and the place in the middle where they meet. And this morning, awake much sooner than I ought to be, I dove into another Anthony De Mello book, The Song Of The Bird, in search of better answers… or at least better questions.

      Today I seek a bit of adventure, even as I press on with my business trip in the middle of a pandemic. I found myself silently angrily at a couple of unmasked men getting off an elevator I was waiting for this morning. They’re supposed to be wearing masks as mandated by the Governor, with reminders on signs all over the hotel, but they opted out. My anger wasn’t with them – that was frustration at their disregard for others – but instead at myself for putting myself in a position to be concerned with their unmasked presence in the first place.

      And so I decided I need to get myself outdoors. It’s raining out there. It’s raw. There’s a short window of time I have between where I am and where I have to be later. And yet I’m getting outdoors anyway. I have a few questions that need answering. There’s truth out there in the cold, wet outdoors.

    • Process and Persistence

      “Process saves us from the poverty of intentions.” – Elizabeth King (via Seth Godin & Tim Ferriss)

      “You begin with a subject, gather material, and work your way to structure from there. You pile up volumes of notes and then figure out what you are going to do with them, not the other way around.” – John McPhee, On The Writing Process

      Blogging is a process that saves me from my poverty of intentions. I’ve intended to write for years, but pushed it aside in pursuit of everything both worthy and irrelevant. Sure the site needs work, the writing has typos now and then and Yoast SEO is fixed in a permanent frown, but so what? If you’re along for the journey, welcome, you’ve apparently overcome a ton of SEO blunders on my part to get here.

      If there’s a common theme throughout life, its the fact that we can never do quite enough to reach perfection. I’m nowhere near it myself. But I walk the path one step at a time, writing, editing, publishing and starting again at the beginning every day. And that’s a victory in itself. Screw perfection – give me process and persistence.

      “Mastery is the process of narrowing your focus to a tiny element of success, repeating it until you have internalized the skill, and then using this new habit as the foundation to advance to the next frontier of your development.” – James Clear, Atomic Habits

      And that’s where I am, focus narrowed and repeating daily towards a level of mastery I may never achieve. But I’ll be closer for the effort. There’s some measure of the Pareto principle in that James Clear quote. Focus on the 20% that achieves the goal. SEO doesn’t necessarily matter. Likes and follows don’t necessarily matter. The work matters. So do more than focus, do the work.

    • Observations While Flying in a Pandemic

      It’s been eight months since I’ve flown anywhere or even been in an airport. A lot has happened in eight months, and the pandemic is relentlessly marching along with no regard for whether we want to flip the switch back to normal again. I’m not sure it ever will be normal again, but whether we get there or not I had obligations that put me on a flight to Cleveland. What was commonplace less than a year ago was now unique, outlier stuff. And I felt compelled to note the changes.

      TSA outnumbers passengers 20:1
      That flight eight months ago coincidently departed from the same gate I was departing from on my flight to Cleveland. But instead of walking into a cue of people trying to bypass the regular TSA line and finding a line of our own, I walked straight to a lonely TSA agent who scanned my passport and asked me to take the mask down to verify my face matched the photo. By my count there were at least twenty TSA agents for every person going through screening.

      Every row, not every seat
      I boarded a plane that was being seated from back to front and found my way to my seat. This plane was small – two seats on either side of the row. Everyone had a window seat except for the couples flying together. From a social distancing perspective I was at least six feet from the person on the opposite window seat. But they were also seating every row, so the person in front of me and the person behind me were only three feet away. But masks were required, right?

      Mask etiquette
      The rule was pretty straightforward: wear your damned mask while you were on the plane. You couldn’t walk into the airport without the mask, let alone get on the plane. Simple right? Yet I was braced for the one flake who would take off their mask and scream about their rights. But thankfully this plane was full of functioning adults without delusions of grandeur. Everyone wore their mask the entire time. Until they didn’t.

      Food and Beverages
      The smell of food on the plane shortly after sitting made me question someone’s mask etiquette. I’m no expert on such things, but eating a chicken sandwich seems challenging while keeping a mask on the entire time. But it demonstrated the challenges of enforcement. Then the crew announced they would be coming through with snacks and beverages. No booze and no hot coffee or tea options, but water and soft drinks. Airline-sanctioned bending of the mask rule. And again I thought to myself, how exactly are we going to be responsible mask-wearing passengers while eating and drinking? I accepted the snack and water and stuffed them into my bag for after the flight. Mask stayed put.

      First in line to take off?!!
      As with the TSA line, there was literally no line of planes awaiting take-off. We taxied to the end of the runway and simply took off. Granted it was an afternoon flight, but for me that was a first at Logan International Airport. As we soared over the islands I spied a lonely sailboat cruising Boston Harbor, and wondered where they were going. They might have been looking up at the plane wondering who in the world is flying in a pandemic. Me, folks. The answer was me.

      Exiting the plane
      The routine in Cleveland was similar to boarding in Boston. Stay seated until the people in front of you stand up and exit. A few rebels stood up to grab bags from the overhead bins, but most of us just played along. Perspective is a beautiful thing. None of us wanted to dance with COVID-19. Walking out into the terminal, it felt different from Logan Airport. More people for sure. Cleveland was much more crowded than terminal C in Boston. Here too masks were required and social distancing applied. And more stores and restaurants open in Cleveland than in Boston. I suppose every place is different, and just as each country handles things differently, so too does every state. But overall people were showing respect for the pandemic here as well.

      Real PPE Hurts
      This flight was about two hours. Wearing a KN-95 mask instead of my cloth mask gave me even more respect for healthcare workers geared up for the pandemic for hours at a time. The elastic bands began to irritate the backs of my ears over time and I found myself pulling the elastics back off my skin for relief. If I were to do a cross-country trip I’d have to rig up a hat with buttons or pull the bands back with string to avoid this. But I wasn’t going to complain, I was wearing a mask to stay healthy and to keep other people healthy should I be infected but asymptomatic. It seemed a fair tradeoff.

      Like Riding a Bicycle
      Despite all the strangeness, travel came right back to me. Walking through airports, renting cars, and checking into hotels are all part of the deal when you travel for work. It took no time at all to feel I was back in the flow of things. Masks, heavy doses of hand sanitizer and soap and water, avoiding touching the face and maintaining social distance made it all clear that the routine was different even as it was the same. Some of these habits will remain with us long after we figure out this virus, and honestly some of these measures are welcome changes to the petri dish traditional travel placed you in. I wondered about the future of travel even as I welcomed a brief return to it.

    • You Do You

      “We see people and things not as they are, but as we are. That is why when two people look at something or someone, you get two different reactions.” – Anthony De Mello, Awareness

      I’ve been off of Facebook for 23 days, promising myself I wouldn’t go back on until after the election in the United States. For the most part I haven’t missed anything but birthday wishes for friends. Instead I text or call them with wishes. Seems old school to actually speak to someone on their birthday, but I like living on the edge a bit.

      So the Facebook fast has gone well, but I did cheat a couple of times and log on to see what I was missing. Two or three minutes of quick scanning to see if people are healthy and doing well. No likes or comments, in and out quickly. But then I read a post a friend made. He was wondering where all the coverage of the Hunter Biden story was and why everyone was burying “the truth”. That was almost the breaking point for me, I wanted to break my fast and reply educating him on what matters in this country and what may be merely crap that they’re slinging to see if it sticks. I took a breath, logged off and cleared the history of my browsing just to ensure I would have to physically log in again to get back on Facebook.

      I get a similar reaction when I see someone I know with a Trump sign on their car or in their yard. My perception of that person changes, even if they remain the same otherwise. And I realize that the issue isn’t them at all, but my reaction that matters. I wonder sometimes at the world, but recognize that I can’t change the world at all, only myself and the impact I have through my own actions.

      So I’ve begun using the phrase “you do you” in my head when I see or read something that annoys me. You do you, and I’ll do me. And maybe we’ll meet in the middle on a few things. Or maybe not. But offloading the stress of what other people think is liberating. My vote cancels out his vote, and I’ll rely on other cooler heads to prevail.

      Focusing on changing others by nature means we aren’t focused on changing ourselves. We have plenty of blank canvas left to paint in our own lives, and a few mistakes we’ve all made along the way that could use some painting over as well. The more we focus on our own path the further down that path we may go. There’s plenty to work on right here.

    • Calm

      “Real power is not in momentary desires, but in complete calmness.” – Leo Tolstoy

      I have a bit of nervous energy as I write this. I’m traveling tomorrow for the first time in seven months and there’s a vibrating exhilaration deep inside knowing that I’m getting on a plane again, going to another state and driving around to places new to me. Mind you, its not like I’m flying to Antarctica for an extended climate change study, I’m going to Cleveland. I’ve been to Cleveland at least a half dozen times that I can recall and maybe a time or two beyond that. But it’s travel in a time of no travel, and this year that alone creates a buzz.

      I got the same vibration hiking solo up Mount Tecumseh earlier this summer. Not because it was a particularly challenging hike, but because I was hiking it alone late in the day. Just enough risk to raise the level of uncertainty, but calculated risk. Hiking alone at night inherently offers risk to the hiker. You just don’t have people walking by you to offer assistance. So you take extra care or alternatively, you charge ahead brazenly challenging fate.

      Calmness in the face of potential stressors is a superpower. In an age of talking heads stirring the pot of anxiety for advantage, of a pandemic ramping up for killing season, of a time when we teeter on the brink of a deeper recession or a depression and irreversible climate change should we get this wrong, in this time the calm prevail. We can take the bait and react, or swim calmly in the present storm.

      “Do not be concerned too much with what will happen. Everything that happens will be good and useful for you.” – Epictetus

      The posters used early on during the Blitz, “Keep Calm and Carry On” naturally come to mind. Those posters weren’t successful at the time as people viewed them as patronizing, but the expression has exploded in popularity in the last twenty years. Whether you view it as patronizing or nostalgic now, the expression does carry weight as a stoic reminder to keep your head about you. For in calmness we find clarity.

      During that time when the British were facing down Nazi aggression, Viktor Frankl was living a nightmare in a succession of Nazi prison camps, ending at Auschwitz before finally being freed at the end of the war. He observed that state of mind had a lot to do with who survived and who didn’t as much as the whim of fate. Some people were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but others just gave up in the face of hopelessness and horror. Some people survived simply because they had a purpose for living. Based on this experience, he wrote the extraordinary book Man’s Search for Meaning after the war.

      “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms – to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”
      – Viktor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning

      Today we live in a time when everything is hyper-scrutinized, everything is a perceived affront, everything is designed to invoke a spark of fear or outrage. But when we swim in our sea of calmness, we overcome the efforts of those who would inspire a follow or a like or another cycle of commercials before they tell you the rest of the story. A calm mind sees the truth in the world and in ourselves. It remains the best foundation for a life of purpose and happiness. Want to improve the state of world? Be calm. And yes; carry on.