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    • Crazy for Lovin’ You

      In August of 1961, a couple of months after being thrown through a windshield after a car accident with her brother, Patsy Cline recorded a song that would become the most played song on juke boxes around the country for years to come.  And that’s where I fell in love with this song years ago, 25 years after it was recorded, hearing it over and over on a juke box in The Old Worthen in Lowell, Massachusetts.  With senses refined by pitchers of cheap beer, the pack of us would conspire to plug quarters into the juke box to play “My Way” and “Mercedes Benz” and “Tainted Love” and especially this Patsy Cline hit, the sultry and mournful “Crazy“.  This song has been playing on constant rotation in my brain ever since.

      In Nashville a couple of weeks ago, (which seems like a million years ago now) my daughter and I made our way upstairs from the Johnny Cash Museum to the Patsy Cline Museum for a visit with the timeless Patsy Cline.  We’re coming up on 59 years since she recorded this Willy Nelson song in Nashville, scarred and still on crutches from her car accident.  The magic in this song comes from Owen Bradley’s arrangement, bringing in a mix of musicians who gave it that special sound and propel the careers of many of those involved with the recording.  A-Team session players were brought in to bring the song it’s richness and soul.  Floyd Cramer’s “lonesome cowboy” piano style dominates, with Bob Moore’s acoustic bass driving the song.  Harold Bradley’s six-string guitar punches through and the rich harmonies of the Jordanaires lay the foundation for Patsy Cline to soar over the sonic landscape.   The song was recorded on 3-track, rare at the time, with Patsy nailing down her vocals after the rest of the musicians completed their work.

      As you work your way around the Patsy Cline Museum, you can hear Crazy playing on repeat from a juke box, which seems about right to me given my own beginnings with this classic.  Behind the song was a very driven, very talented young lady who would push aside her injuries from that car accident and create many of the songs that were staples of her catalog.  She would die way too young in a plane crash on March 3, 1963, less than two years after recording Crazy, at the age of 30.  People talk about the day the music died being when Buddy Holly died in a plane crash in 1959, the crash that killed Patsy Cline was just as devastating for Nashville.  Her music lives on, timeless in many ways.  Personally, I can’t hear Crazy and not think about it playing on a juke box in an old bar many years ago.  I suppose that’s just how it’s supposed to feel.

       

      Juke box at the Patsy Cline Museum. Guess which song was playing?

      Set list at the Patsy Cline Museum

    • Wet Snow Decisions

      The snow came down heavy and wet all afternoon and into the night.  There’s so much water in the snow that you can’t pick up a complete shovel full without risking injury to the shovel or your back.  Only three inches, maybe, blankets the driveway and lawn.  This is snow blower snow, running slowly and deliberately so you don’t clog the chute.  I took the shovel down to the street and cleared some of the plowed snow piled up at the end to give the rolling trash barrel a stable base.  Then I walked back up to the garage, wondering to myself “I suppose this might melt if I just let the sun work at it”.

      Nothing tests your work ethic like late spring snow.  In January there’s no question I’d clear the driveway.  In late March?  Well…  I walked inside and checked the weather report on my phone.  Sure enough, the temperatures are going to warm up enough to make a real dent in this slip with the consistency of wet cement.  I took an inventory of who is going out and who is staying in during this pandemic.  Nobody is going anywhere.  Are we getting any deliveries today that would require me to clear the driveway?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  That’s the wild card, isn’t it?  It’s not about me at that point, it’s about the FedEx guy or the person delivering propane.  Yeah, they’d appreciate a clean driveway.  Might not even deliver if it’s a mess…  damn.

      Well, I could use some fresh air, right?

       

    • Avoiding Counterfeit Coins

      “Learn to recognize the counterfeit coins
      That may buy you just a moment of pleasure,
      But then drag you for days
      Like a broken man
      Behind a farting camel.”
      – Hafiz, Cast All Your Votes for Dancing

      Habits are great things when working for you, and your worst enemy when they’re conspiring against you.  In normal times I’d be chipping away at the usual mix of exercise, writing, reading, learning a language and having my day stacked up ahead of me in my bullet journal.  The upside down nature of this pandemic and the home renovations have challenged my habits, but I’m still chipping away at each of them.  Perhaps nothing has suffered more than my bullet journal, usually filled with meetings and travel.  I’ve decided I need to keep entering bullets to cross off, even if they’re smaller in scale than they were – what?  Two weeks ago?  Habits die when they aren’t fed.  And when good habits die bad habits fill the void.

      I deleted Facebook from my life in January, and honestly I don’t feel pangs of withdrawal.   It’s a massive distraction, designed to get you spun up in the random thoughts of family and friends.  Sharing pictures and life moments is great and all, but it was getting harder and harder to find any quality content without sifting through the swamp of political, religious and social commentary.  Freeing up the mindspace was refreshing.  But I’m finding Twitter conspiring to take over that space.  And Instagram, that perfect platform for sharing family photos, nature shots and travel pictures, and once a refuge from people’s opinions, is starting to get populated with people’s thoughts on the world (If I wanted your unsolicited thoughts on the world I’d get back on Facebook).  No, social media is a trap, designed to capture your attention and keep you from getting things done in this world.  I have things to do.

      We all are focused on the pandemic and the economic hit we’re all taking because of it.  Working from home changes you in ways that you don’t realize initially.  Over time you learn to be disciplined, both in doing the work that needs to be done and eventually turning the off switch and moving on to the other things in your life.  Where once I had to contend with a couple of cats interrupting a conference call, now I have two other people on their own webinars and calls in relatively close proximity to me.  It’s a new world and it requires more intense focus on positive habits, avoiding the temptation of checking Twitter or the latest headlines, and keeping a disciplined, focused calendar.

      This too shall pass.  It will change us in ways we don’t fully understand yet.  But ultimately events like this should be unifying and enabling.  Progress starts in the mirror, and feeding the habits that will carry us today and tomorrow and onward towards a better future. Bad habits lead to loss of control: frivolous spending leads to debt and maybe working at a job or two to makes end meet; frivolous spending of time leads to loss of productivity, and worse, wasting the one thing we can’t ever get back. Beware the validity of the coins you spend: Brief moments of pleasure can drag you for days, or a lifetime.

    • Touching Excellence?

      “In the absence of continual external reinforcement, we must be our own monitor, and quality of presence is often the best gauge. We cannot expect to touch excellence if “going through the motions” is the norm of our lives. On the other hand, if deep, fluid presence becomes second nature, then life, art, and learning take on a richness that will continually surprise and delight. Those who excel are those who maximize each moment’s creative potential—for these masters of living, presence to the day-to-day learning process is akin to that purity of focus others dream of achieving in rare climactic moments when everything is on the line… The secret is that everything is always on the line.” – Josh Waitzkin, The Art Of Learning

      I’m writing in the usual chair, with the cup of hot coffee well on its way down, with the cat over the shoulder in her usual way (excited tail swatting equals prey she’d burst through glass to catch) and I’ve run through the usual habit loop to get here. Routine is an essential part of productivity – no secret there – and the way you approach that routine matters as much as the routine itself – again, nothing revolutionary in that statement. So, knowing this, why don’t we all regularly touch excellence?

      I keep coming back to that Warren Buffett 5/25 strategy, and shake my head at the 25 things I’m currently doing. Working, writing, parenting and husband, home renovation projects (excellent timing on those), learning a language, trying to stay fit, and on and on. Josh Waitzkin wrote about touching excellence having focused completely on first chess and then Tai Chi. That’s a perfect strategy for touching excellence or achieving mastery at anything. Give up everything else in your life in pursuit of the one thing. And that’s why only a small percentage of people do it.

      It turns out sucking the marrow out of life requires a lot of work. Always “on” kind of work. You end up saying no to a lot of things you’d prefer to say yes to in that pursuit of excellence. So maybe pursuing pretty good will do? Personally, my priority list has shifted with the pandemic. I must complete the home renovations, I must keep my career objectives on track, and I must stay healthy. Everything else, including really important things (to me) like writing, learning a language and certainly travel have shifted into maintenance mode. Finish the home renovations and free up head space for one of those other 20 things. Simple, right?

      It really has to be that simple. I’m just not that good a juggler. Waitzkin’s perspective that “those who excel are those who maximize each moment’s creative potential” is certainly true, but it’s fair to also ask, what am I trying to excel in, and at what cost? The answer changes over time. Waitzkin wasn’t a National Chess Master while renovating a bathroom and balancing a career and family. I respect and am often awed at excellence, I just don’t find it a practical pursuit in my current situation. I’ll take excellence in balance, great at one or two other things and incremental improvement at the rest, thank you. Over time, maybe I’ll create an excellent body of work I can look back on (that’s surely a worthy goal), and celebrate the not-so-excellent-but-pretty-damned-good in my life too. Hopefully I’ll have that bathroom renovation project done first.

    • Je Suis Vivant

      I thought I was doing pretty well learning French until the four people in the row ahead of me on a flight back when the world was almost normal started speaking rapid-fire French to each other and I realized I have a long way to go. It was like putting a student driver in the Grand Prix. And that’s okay; it’s a journey not a test. Those four people couldn’t speak much English but it didn’t stop them from traveling to a country where relatively few would throw them a bone and know and speak French (welcome to America!). I saw myself in those four, back when I was stumbling through Portuguese while driving across the country and falling in love with the adventure of it all. You don’t need to speak to communicate, you just need to find common ground.

      “Add up the sum of our days and that’s who we are. We get what we repeat.” – Seth Godin

      The world is in a collective, forced re-evaluation of what matters. I was suffering from bottled-up wanderlust before COVID-19, and I was traveling a lot the last six months prior… but it seems still not enough. Now that I’m camped out at home I’m finding myself less concerned about FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) and just living. Learning a bit of French every day, sticking with the habits that build up a life, whether you’re traveling or sitting at home. Eventually I’ll get to put my limited French vocabulary to the test in Quebec or Paris, but for now I’ll keep on plugging away at it.

      Travel is often the highlighted passages in our life journal and an opportunity to broaden our awareness of the world and our place in it. It’s a vehicle for growth, teaching you humility gently… and sometimes abruptly. It’s living with a purpose many don’t find in their day-to-day existence. Travel heightens observation and slows down time in that particular moment. That makes it a drug of sorts, making us feel more alive. The pauses in between travel, or between growth in general, offer us an opportunity to contribute, to give something back to the universe.

      I’ve got this restlessness bursting inside of me most of the time, but strangely now doesn’t seem to be one of those times. I recognize the need for a collective pause given the circumstances. Instead of sipping a cocktail while watching surfers in the setting sun in Sagres I’m watching the deer, camouflaged and stealthy, walk single file through the woods beyond the old stone wall that pre-dates the deer and the observer alike. I listen to the sound of water heating in the kettle for a second cup of caffeine. I feel the coolness on the tile floor on my bare feet. It seems the senses are still alive and well, observing the world and all that’s in it. Eventually we’ll be let free to wander once again. Being fully alive until then seems the least we could do. Je suis vivant, et toi?

    • Living Heartily

      “I’m not the river
      that powerful presence.
      And I’m not the black oak tree
      which is patience personified.
      And I’m not redbird
      who is a brief life heartily enjoyed.
      Nor am I mud nor rock nor sand
      which is holding everything together.
      No, I am none of these meaningful things, not yet.      ”
      – Mary Oliver, I’m Not The River

      I walked outside barefoot to a chorus of woodland song early this morning. Robins and cardinals and even those clever rascals the crows were all singing to each other at the edge of the woods where humans begin. Birds don’t give a thought to human worries about COVID-19 or mortgage payments or how many steps show up on your watch. No, they go on living heartily, not thinking about the briefness of the duration but working hard to ensure this particular moment isn’t their last.

      It’s Spring in New England. The world wakes up similarly to the way it woke up yesterday, but there’s a slight shift in attitude. The mild winter and a pandemic cancelling everything normal in life and Mookie Betts dumped for money and Tom Brady moving on all make this Spring feel different from any other in my memory, but walking out into the morning chorus you see it’s all the stories we tell ourselves. We’re all just living this brief moment and trying to live another day. Stoicism offers a guide to living more powerfully.  To accept fate (Amor Fati) and our ultimate fate (Memento Mori), and to apply this knowledge, this understanding of the world, to embrace every moment.

      “It’s time you realized that you have something in you more powerful and miraculous than the things that affect you and make you dance like a puppet.” – Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

      I’m working on things just as we all are. Holding things and people together, working to be patient with this world around me, working on small, daily improvement. Living heartily might seem a challenge right now, but it’s more important than ever. I’d think it was a lot more challenging a hundred or a thousand years ago. No, we live in relative comfort compared to those before us. They’d surely laugh at the things we call hardship. We can hold it all together and get beyond this too. Walking barefoot out to greet this first day of Spring and embrace the chorus seems a good first step. But there’s so much more to do with this day, isn’t there?

    • Carrying The Weight of a Black Swan

      It seems I don’t meet the criteria for high risk with COVID-19.  That’s a blessing isn’t it?  Or is it a curse?  Depends on how you feel I suppose.  Personally I feel fine, outside of some lung irritation that’s either allergies flaring up or the virus that dominates our lives.  Who knows?  Maybe if our country had taken the opportunity to stockpile tests I’d know.  Finger-pointing won’t help anything right now, but I’ll remember with my vote in November as those previously elected either step up or stumble through this.

      That said, beyond the tragedies that are unfolding around the world, I believe that in ways we won’t recognize for a long time this pandemic is going to strengthen us as a society. Collectively we become more resilient through adversity.  And boy, we’re wading deep into it now.  We collectively have an opportunity for growth.

      When the world feels a bit more challenging than usual, revisiting some old books seems appropriate. One book I’d recommend is The Obstacle Is The Way, by Ryan Holiday. I’ve re-read this a couple of times, and credit Holiday along with Tim Ferriss for pointing me towards the stoic philosophers. Stoicism, history and poetry have been the core of my reading for some time now, pushing fiction and business books further to the side. And this quote jumped out at me as I scanned previously highlighted insights from his book:

      “It’s almost a cliché at this point, but the observation that the way to strengthen an arch is to put weight on it—because it binds the stones together, and only with tension does it hold weight—is a great metaphor. The path of least resistance is a terrible teacher. We can’t afford to shy away from the things that intimidate us. We don’t need to take our weaknesses for granted.” – Ryan Holiday, The Obstacles Is The Way

       As a society we’ve had a massive viral weight dumped on us. This is the very definition of a black swan event. How shall we remember this time? With the vast majority of people rising to the occasion or for the toilet paper hoarders and people stocking up on ammunition should things reach a level of madness none of us are imagining now. I’m in the “rise to the occasion” camp, and I hope you are too. We get to choose how we react to the events around us. History will remember the hero’s, fanatics and fools. I know which group I aspire to be in.

    • Working [Out] From Home

      If there’s any benefit to the current situation, it’s a spotlight shining on my home exercise equipment, most notably my Concept II Rowing Ergometer.  There are no excuses at the moment for not using it, or the weights or treadmill, or for simply going for a walk at least once a day.  I’m starting another streak today for consecutive days on the erg and consecutive days walking 10K or more steps.  I lost my previous streaks in both from heavy travel commitments for the first 11 weeks of 2020, but that seems like a distant memory now.

       Rowing 5000 meters per day doesn’t take much time, let’s call it 21-24 minutes for an average fitness level man (hey, that’s me!), but does a world of good for the body and mind. Walking 10,000 steps outdoors offers fitness, fresh air, some vitamin D and maybe a chance to see other humans from a safe distance. What a combination! Lifting weights a few times a week builds strength and fat-burning muscle. Combine all three and suddenly we’re in beach body shape by the time this curve is flattened.

      We all have the time to exercise. Use the commute time for exercise. Use some screen time for exercise. Use the excuse time for exercise. Just do it already. Maybe keep those lungs clear in the process. That alone seems a worthy goal. There’s no time like this crazy time to recommit to fitness. See you on the walk?

    • Dancing With Perhaps

      “I have a lot of edges called Perhaps and almost nothing you can call Certainty.” – Mary Oliver, Angels

      I’m a big believer in Perhaps, though I know Certainty has its place in this world. Certainty dances in the world of STEM. I’m grateful for Certainty and those who pursue it, but I like where Perhaps dances. Those who know me know that I use the word often, and likely too much. So be it, I find Certainty less… fascinating. So it was a delight to read Mary Oliver’s poem and read that line. Why did it take me so long to get around to it, I wonder? Dabbling too much in the world of Certainty I suppose.

      You want Certainty? Certainty is a kettle whistling when the water boils enough that steam trapped inside screams to get out, now! How many mornings have I been quietly lost in thought, reading or writing when that kettle calls for my immediate attention? Countless. And I appreciate Certainty knocking on my forehead now and then, prodding me back to reality. I don’t especially like to linger in Certainty but I find it comforting to visit once in awhile.

      Mary’s famous line from “Angels” is this:

      “I don’t care how many angels can dance on the head of a pin. It’s enough to know that for some people they exist, and that they dance.” – Mary Oliver, Angels

      I don’t think all that much of angels dancing on pins either, but do I think of ghosts whispering history when I arrive at places of significance and listen raptly as the oaks welcome me back to their woods. Places speak, if you’ll listen and observe. There is no better practitioner of observation than the poet. Sure, scientists do pretty well too, but I’d contend that they’re secretly poets with a formal education. But what of religion? Isn’t that Certain? Believers might tell you there’s Certainty in the Bible. I’d contend that there’s far more Perhaps in the Bible than Certainty. Zealots arrive at Certainty about their religious views or their political views or their social views and work to impose Certainty on others. We get in trouble when too many people arrive at a Certainty that conflicts with the other guy’s Certainty. Leave room for Perhaps.

      So we’ve entered a strange new world, stranger than the world we’ve been living in for some time now (and that was pretty strange indeed). It seems a good time to look inward, to turn off the panic news and read the works of those who came before us. The poets and Stoics and Transcendentalists and philosophers. They dealt with far more uncertainty and death than we have (they’re all dead after all). Shouldn’t we learn more from them?

      Whatever you believe, leave a little room for Perhaps. That’s where you’ll find me most of the time. Come visit now and then if you like. I’d certainly like that.

    • Breaking Ropes

      “If you don’t break your ropes while you’re alive
      do you think
      ghosts will do it after?”
      – Kabir

      When the world is upside down and stress boils up inside you, how do you set it free? I release it slowly on long walks, or feel it melt away listening to immersive music like the album Beyond The Missouri Sky (Short Stories) by Charlie Haden and Pat Metheny, or reading some Mary Oliver poetry (Thanks, Mary for the Kabir quote). I don’t often get stressed out, but the world can creep up on you sometimes. Tonight after a day of work and a few home renovation hurdles I was about at my limit. So I made mine a double: poetry and music. I listened to Missouri Sky twice before I forgot what I was stressed about. Turns out it wasn’t anything all that important.

      So back to Kabir; Part of my stress is a desire to get out and see the world, but blocked by ropes of my own making and a few that fate threw at us all. Seeing the world shut down in profound, unprecedented ways is a bit of a curveball, isn’t it? London, Scotland and even Nashville seem a long time ago. But this is no time for casual travel. No, not right now. Now we collectively try to flatten the damned curve. But there are other ropes to break besides travel. And it turns out those ropes are best broken with time and effort and isolation and thought.

      Life is short and unpredictable, and who can’t see that now? Given that, when else are you going to step up and break a few ropes that are holding you back? Seems now is really the only time to do it. Those Northern Lights and the Southern Cross will have to wait for healthier days. And my God I hope they return soon, I won’t waste a moment getting to them given the opportunity. Until then, break those writing ropes. Break those learning ropes. And let yourself free.