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    • The Loon Comeback Story

      Early this morning I was reading in the backyard when I heard something I’ve never heard in twenty years of living in this place; the distinct call of a loon as it flew over the house.  In my lifetime loons have always been rare, and usually you’d find them up on the relatively quiet northern lakes.  The first time I heard a loon was on First Connecticut Lake up in Pittsburgh, New Hampshire.  I was 23 at the time; far too old to be hearing a loon for the first time.  Interestingly enough that was the same weekend I first saw a moose in the wild (thanks Pittsburgh).  But it remained a rare experience if you weren’t up in the Lakes Region or north.

      Loons, like hawks and eagles, are the canaries in the coal mine for our ecosystem.  When DDT and other pesticides worked their way up through the food chain it killed more than just bugs.  One research article talked about massive loon die-offs in the mid-1960’s related to pesticides and human interference on Lake Michigan.  This was repeated all around the country as attempts to knock out the mosquito population and pests that eat food crops created unintended consequences.  With the ban of the worst of these pesticides and intelligent management of the rest, wildlife started making a comeback.  As the world struggles with the questions of climate change and plastic in the environment, perhaps looking back on the 40-year rebound of the loon population would be a good example of what positive, long-term change looks like.

      The loons have made a comeback.  The population has tripled in the last 40 years from about 100 in 1974 to over 300 last year.  As the population increases nesting pairs move into new lakes and ponds in Southern New Hampshire, making the once rare sound of a loon song increasingly common again.  That loon flying over my house could have been heading to any of the half dozen large lakes nearby, or perhaps one of the many smaller ponds and that flow into the Spicket River.  But wherever it was heading, it was a signal that things are slowly improving for the loons, and for the rest of us as well.

    • Tigers and Time Travel

      This is the time of year when the orange time machines announce they’re back. Along old stone walls, foundations of farmhouses and in places random today but logical once upon a time. The tiger lilies are back.

      The land whispers to us of those who came before us. Tiger lilies were planted generations ago, divided and planted again at the next generation’s homes, and so on. Tiger lilies came out of China in the middle of the 18th century, made their way to England in the early 19th century and then to the United States. Tiger lilies are entirely edible, from the bulbs that supposedly taste like potatoes to the flowers. But most people plant them as ornamentals.

      Tiger lilies are a common sight in New England’s summer. On a 3 1/2 mile walk around the block I passed maybe a hundred of them. Time machines of orange and green, whispering the names of generations of people long gone who brought them to this place.

    • Design Elements

      This morning our backyard is filled with bluebird song. There are 3 to 5 of them up in the trees, flying about and announcing to the world that this is an extraordinary morning. Other birds – cardinals, robins and the like, are playing the rhythm section in the background. Lead guitar is firmly with the bluebirds. And of course it’s by design – keep filling the feeder, put up the birdhouse and they reward you with song. The opposite is true as well. I stopped filling the other feeders in May and the cardinals, jays and finches have receded into the background. This immediately prompts thoughts of the Cherokee story about the two wolves for me (which wolf wins? The one you feed), but in a slightly different way.

      We all design our lives to attract what we desire into it. The work we do, the people we surround ourselves with, the habits we form, and the media we consume are all design elements that move us forward on the path or set us off course.  And design doesn’t equal results.  Sometimes the bluebirds fill the yard with song, sometimes the timing is off or they’re filling someone else’s yard.  My neighbor on the other side of the fence gets the same bluebird song without earning a bit of it (Then again he’s not outside to hear it anyway).  You keep doing the right things and eventually you build the life you’ve wanted for yourself.  And sometimes the rewards you’ve earned benefit others.  I planted daffodil bulbs on the corner of our street with the main street.  Those daffodils rewarded thousands of people driving by, though the majority of those people barely noticed them at all.  I build playlists and fill the house with music with the same intent, and perhaps the same result.  I’ve built an itinerary for Scotland in the fall that I’m especially excited about.  Hopefully the results surpass the design.

      I tend to fill social media with pictures of the kids, the garden, places I’ve travelled to and  generally the positive things about plodding through this life together.  Plenty of people use the same platform for negativity or to point out things they’re angry about, to cry for attention, or to somehow teach the rest of the world that they were right all along about something or other.  Who knows which of us is right, but I do know that’s not for me.  Whenever I post something I’m angry about I feel like I’ve taken a step back in my own development, so I try to filter it out before it lands.  Abraham Lincoln had a drawer full of angry letters to his generals and other people that he never sent.  I’m trying my best to use social media the same way.  What moves us all forward?

      My morning was filled with bluebirds and hummingbirds and the sound of thousands of drops of water hitting the ground as the tree leaves shake off the overnight rain in the breeze.  My evening will be filled with celebration and music and friendship.  In between I’ll so the work that must be done to enable all of that.  Yard work and cooking and building playlists and touching base with family and friends.  In general being actively engaged with life…  and the life you want.  You never know if the bluebirds will come, but you do what you can to attract them anyway.

    • Hit the Minimum and Check the Box

      I ran into trouble last year when I increased the number of burpees I was doing to 50 per day.  As the reps increased I started using my upper body strength to make up for core weakness.  This poor form led to injury, which led to me not doing burpees for a couple of months.  Not what I was hoping for.

      This year I started doing burpees again, but with a focus on technique.  I also kept my total to 10 max for a few months.  Embarrassingly low number of burpees, but the long view is to keep doing them every day for life and not repeat the issues I had last fall.  But even at 10 per day I started getting shoulder pain again.  I made a point of looking straight ahead at the wall in front of me so I wasn’t using my shoulders to bear the weight, and that helped.  I started doing shoulder warm-up exercises to get the blood flowing, and that helped too.  But that familiar shoulder pain was creeping back in anyway.

      Two weeks ago I made a minor adjustment to the push-up part of the burpee; pointing my fingers towards each other and forming a diamond shape.  This angled my elbows outward and combined with the rest of my focus on good form relieved the stress on my shoulders.  Will this hold up over time as the solution?  We’ll see, but that minor tweak in form has been a huge relief in doing burpees.  I’ve increased the number of reps slightly and will see how it goes.  I’d like to get back to 50 per day if possible, as there’s no better travel exercise than burpees.

      Good form is essential in burpees, as it is in everything that we do where long term results are the objective.  Burpees are portable – I’ve done them on the lawn on the Cape and in hotel rooms and gyms around the world.  That means that I’ve done burpees at sea level and 15 stories up in a Manhattan hotel.  My goal in hotel rooms is stealth – I don’t want to be the guy shaking the entire floor while I do these things.  I land softly, usually barefoot in a hotel room and wearing running shoes everywhere else.  Focusing on a soft landing offers another benefit (aside from being a good neighbor) in that it keeps my knees from absorbing unnecessary shock.

      I figure my burpee ninja exercises have increased my overall strength, nullified some bad travel food and prompted me to make better nutritional choices along the way.  And one good thing leads to another.  I don’t just do burpees, but they’re the gateway to other exercise that I do based on where I am.  Walking, climbing stairs, rowing, swimming…. whatever.  But always with burpees.  Hit the minimum and check the box.  Good form and good habits offer sustainability and a foundation on which to build something bigger.  And that’s why I’m focus on getting it right from the beginning.

    • Changing the Perspective

      There’s no place like home, but there’s a lot to be said for changing the view once in awhile. So we picked up and relocated to the Cape for one night in the middle of a work week. I’m back to work today, but with a refreshed mind. We settle into a pattern of familiarity when we do the same thing day-after-day. Routine is powerful, and can be hugely beneficial in earning compound interest over time from daily, positive habits. But sometimes the plaque buildup on our minds needs a cleansing to create new perspective on a project or problem you might be tackling. Nothing changes perspective like a system re-boot like a vacation or a sabbatical.  But those opportunities aren’t always there. Changing scenery does the trick most of the time, even when you can’t take extended time off.

      This morning I’m back to work, but the view out the window has improved, and a quick early morning walk on the beach offered its own rewards. I noticed a burst of energy in my work tasks, and I’ve seen the fog burn off, not just on the bay but in myself as well. I re-read a bit of Atomic Habits this morning as well. Something kept bringing me to this graph that illustrates the conflict between expectations and reality. James Clear calls it the “Valley of Disappointment”. Seth Godin calls it “The Dip”.  It’s the lagging measure of results to actions you’ve taken.  Whenever I start a new sales job I try to gauge the amount of runway I have available to take off.  If you aren’t selling the trendiest stuff out there at commodity prices then you need time to build demand for your product, build a channel, get it specified, wait out budget cycles and finally get it purchased for installation.

      Valleys of disappointment happen, but it’s important to see the forest for the trees.  Perspective is invaluable when you’re in the valley, and just as important when you’ve climbed out of the valley.  A little change of scenery almost always does the trick.  Sometimes that scenery is physical like the beach, sometimes it’s mental, like looking ahead instead of looking back.  Jon Acuff wrote in a recent newsletter about the ten year question.  In short, what will you look back on ten years from now and wish you’d done today?  That is what you should do.  Acuff flips the narrative from looking back with regret to fast forwarding to a future you, and looking back from there.  Fascinating exercise, and a good way to give you perspective on what is important now. So I tackled the day with new energy, new perspective and a new focus, and that was the goal all along.

       

       

    • Salty Swims

      Tonight I went for an evening swim in the bay. It occurred to me that I was way overdue for it. I prefer swimming in the ocean over ponds, pools, rivers and streams. I’ve swum in ’em all, and enjoy most every one of them. But let’s face it; Salt water is better than fresh water. Unless you need a drink anyway. But I’m talking about swimming, so don’t go throwing hydration at me. With swimming nothing beats the ocean. The buoyancy is better, and the salt is better for your skin. Don’t tell me about sharks. I’ll take sharks over alligators. At least with a shark they’ll spit you back out most of the time.

      When you jump in the ocean you become a part of the ocean, which makes you a part of all of the oceans, which makes you a part of the world. You just don’t get that kind of a connection in a pool, no matter how big it is. I’m not really sure if people living in the middle of the country understand the draw of surf, sand and the taste of salt on your tongue. But once you’ve tasted it why would you ever leave?

    • Betsy Doyle

      The War of 1812 is often forgotten in the string of wars that make up American history.  If people think of it at all it’s largely in thinking about the White House being set on fire by the British.  But some of the fiercest fighting took place on the shores of Lake Ontario at  Fort Niagara.   The strategic nature of the fort resulted in battles to control it in the French and Indian War, then the Revolutionary War, and finally the War of 1812.  War was officially declared on June 18, 1812.  It would reach Fort Niagara soon enough.

      A young woman named Betsy Doyle and her four children followed Betsy’s husband Andrew across the Niagara River to Fort Niagara in 1810, where she served as either a nurse or a laundress.  Andrew served in the American Army, and for two years they lived in relative peace.  But in October 1812 Andrew was captured by the British at the Battle of Queenstown.  He would never see Betsy again.  As a Canadian, Andrew was considered a traitor and was shipped off to England to spend the next three years in prison.  Betsy and her four children remained at Fort Niagara.

      On November 21, 1812 Fort Niagara came under fire from the British in a battle that would make Betsy Doyle famous, but not infamous.  The American Army would fire hot shot at the British.  Hot shot was cannonballs and grape shot that was heated red hot in the coals, loaded quickly into a cannon and shot at ships or the British outpost across the river.  The hot shot was devastating to ships in particular.  But it was very dangerous for the gun crew that was loading it into the cannon as it could easily trigger an explosion that would kill anyone nearby.  One crew was killed just this way on that day.  But Betsy Doyle continued to bring hot shot up, help load the gun and run back to the coals for more.  The commanding officer called Betsy Doyle’s actions that day brave, and she was certainly a hero.

      Thirteen months later the British with Native American allies would turn the tables on the Americans, seizing Fort Niagara in a particularly gruesome fashion.  When the Americans refused to surrender, the British commander offered no quarter and gave the order to bayonet them all.  Betsy and her children somehow escaped that day, but December in enemy territory in Upstate New York almost guaranteed that they wouldn’t survive long.  But somehow they did, walking over 300 miles in the bitter New York winter to Albany.

      Betsy was never paid for her heroism a Fort Niagara, and would die six years later.  I’ve wondered where her gravestone is, as I’d like to pay her a visit.  For all of her courage on November 21, 1812 and the four month walk across New York State to keep her four children alive, there isn’t enough recognition of Betsy Doyle.  The tablet that honors her isn’t prominently displayed at Fort Niagara, it’s on the top floor of the French Castle, near where she fought alongside American men on that day in 1812.  It might be hidden because they got her name wrong and called her Fanny Doyle instead of Betsy.  It’s unfortunate that someone hasn’t given her a proper tribute.  You can find her story if you search for it, but she’s largely lost to history.  Her husband Andrew came back to the United States but never found her and married someone else the same year that Betsy died.  Her story is tragic and heroic all at once.

    • No World for the Penitent and Regretful

      When I was in college we used to hang out at The Old Worthen in Lowell, drinking pitchers of cheap beer and playing tunes on the juke box.  Inevitably we’d play My Way by Frank Sinatra (written by Paul Anka) and sing the lyrics together in the most world-weary, seasoned way you can muster up when you’re only 21 or so and haven’t been knocked down a few times.

      “Regrets, I’ve had a few
      But then again, too few to mention
      I did what I had to do
      And saw it through without exemption”

      Regrets come with living life.  You make trade-offs along the way, like getting married and raising children instead of crewing on some sailboat in the Greek Isles with nothing but a copy of The Odyssey with you.  I may have thought of doing that once or twice around the time I was singing that song in that bar, and I’d blame it on the ghost of Jack Kerouac whispering in my ear.  On the whole I’ll take the trade-off and don’t look back, unless prompted to.  This morning I was prompted when two quotes in succession resonated for me.  First up was a Joan Didion quote pulled from today’s entry in The Daily Stoic.  Inspired, I drew more of it from a Brain Pickings blog after a quick search and offer some of it here:

      “The dismal fact is that self-respect has nothing to do with the approval of others — who are, after all, deceived easily enough; has nothing to do with reputation, which, as Rhett Butler told Scarlett O’Hara, is something people with courage can do without…  To do without self-respect, on the other hand, is to be an unwilling audience of one to an interminable documentary that deals with one’s failings, both real and imagined, with fresh footage spliced in for every screening. There’s the glass you broke in anger, there’s the hurt on X’s face; watch now, this next scene, the night Y came back from Houston, see how you muff this one. To live without self-respect is to lie awake some night, beyond the reach of warm milk, the Phenobarbital, and the sleeping hand on the coverlet, counting up the sins of commissions and omission, the trusts betrayed, the promises subtly broken, the gifts irrevocably wasted through sloth or cowardice, or carelessness. However long we postpone it, we eventually lie down alone in that notoriously uncomfortable bed, the one we make ourselves. Whether or not we sleep in it depends, of course, on whether or not we respect ourselves…  Character – the willingness to accept responsibility for one’s own life – is the source from which self-respect springs.” – Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem: Essays

      What jolted me was in Didion’s writing, besides the sheer brilliance of her prose, were two phrases in particular: counting up the sins of commissions and omission…  and …the gifts irrevocably wasted through sloth or cowardice, or carelessness.  Who of us, who’s lived a life of any tenure, not counted up the things we’ve done that we’d rather not have done, the things we didn’t do that we wish we had, and regret not taking the leap into some adventure out of laziness or fear?  The older I get the more I say to myself and anyone who asks, just do it.  If you aren’t betraying trust, breaking promises, or taking foolhardy risks, then just do it.  Live with self-respect, do the right thing, accept responsibility for [your] own life.

      And then minutes later I stumbled on this Thoreau quote, a portion of which I’d once posted in an old social media post from years ago, where he (not surprisingly) reminds himself similarly:

      “There is a season for everything, and we do not notice a given phenomenon except at that season, if, indeed, it can be called the same phenomenon at any other season. There is a time to watch the ripples on Ripple Lake, to look for arrowheads, to study the rocks and lichens, a time to walk on sandy deserts; and the observer of nature must improve these seasons as much as the farmer his. So boys fly kites and play ball or hawkie at particular times all over the State. A wise man will know what game to play to-day, and play it. We must not be governed by rigid rules, as by the almanac, but let the season rule us. The moods and thoughts of man are revolving just as steadily and incessantly as nature’s. Nothing must be postponed. Take time by the forelock. Now or never! You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other life but this, or the like of this. Where the good husbandman is, there is the good soil. Take any other course, and life will be a succession of regrets. Let us see vessels sailing prosperously before the wind, and not simply stranded barks. There is no world for the penitent and regretful.” – Henry David Thoreau, from his journal on April 24, 1859

      “You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.” – Marcus Aurelius

      Thoreau wrote that 160 years ago as a reminder to himself, just as Marcus Aurelius wrote his own reminder in Meditations. Didion weighs in with her own message.  By all means, live with character and self-respect, but do make the most of this opportunity you’ve been given. Living in the past is useless.  Living in the future is delusional.  There’s only now.  Today.

    • Playing Favorites

      This is the time of year when taking the long view pays off. Perennials offer stability to the garden, have an excellent return on investment compared to annuals, and in their time put on a show of their own. And with the heat of summer New England gardens explode upward like a 4th of July fireworks display. And like the large comets that wow the crowd there’s one standout above the rest. Like a Scottish Highlander, it displays unruly red tops, toughness of spirit, wild tendencies and tight-knit roots that keep the clan together. Monarda, better known as bee balm, takes the stage.

      The lilies and day lilies look spectacular and hold their own in the garden. The daisies offer a vibrant splash of white and yellow. The annuals are filling in admirably. But bee balm steals the show. Masses of brilliant red explosions hover over the garden, commanding attention for weeks. And boy do they get attention. The hummingbirds are all over them. Butterflies are drawn to the yard. And guests unfamiliar with these marvels ask about them more than any other flower in the garden.

      It’s appropriate that they burst on the scene on the 4th of July week. I can think of no other combination that would match the pyrotechnics so well as bee balm and lilies. Out of respect the dahlias, purple coneflower, balloon flowers and others hold off their own performance to let these two tango above the green masses. I know we aren’t supposed to play favorites, but I can’t help myself; Bee Balm is the one. There’s nothing else like it in the garden.

    • Doing What You Have to Do

      “First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do.” – Epictetus

      If New Year’s Day serves as the traditional launch point for goals and objectives, the 4th of July holiday (in the United States) serves as the midway point for the year.  The first two quarters are over, it’s time to reflect on what worked and what didn’t and apply it to the two quarters to come.  This applies in your career, but also with personal objectives.  This is also a time to assess what you’d like to become in the second half of the year and build towards it.  So with that in mind, I’m certainly reviewing and revising my business plan for 2019, and I’m doing the same with my personal plan.  They’re intertwined and should be scrutinized with equal measure.

      If there’s one theme constant across business and personal goals, it’s that I need to do more of the “good” things and less of the “bad” things.  Schedule more productive meetings and less unproductive meetings.  More exercise and less junk food.  More thoughtful discussion with key decision-makers, less checking the box with people who pay you lip service and never commit to buy.

      So the rowing and the 10 burpees per day are great, but increasing total meters rowed and incrementally moving the burpees up to 12 would be better so long as the shoulder pain is in check.  The shoulder injury occurred last fall when I pushed the daily total to 50 per day and ignored the objections my body was broadcasting clearly. So increase, but in manageable increments. Likewise, Increasing the number of productive face-to-face meetings is surely beneficial, and revising the target upward at the halfway mark is a good idea so long as it doesn’t dilute the quality of the meetings or ultimately the output in monthly sales revenue. Being the busiest isn’t a sign of most productive. In fact the two rarely seem to go hand and hand. Busywork can plug up the day but ultimately doesn’t get you anywhere. Someone I once worked with used the term “high gain activity” to describe the type of productive work that advances you towards your objectives, and I’ve adopted that phrase into my own vocabulary. Focusing on high gain activity means you aren’t hiding in your work, you’re maximizing your productivity through action.

      Productivity starts with knowing what you’re advancing towards, or as Epictetus said, knowing what you would be.  Sometimes that’s simple.  I would be better off healthier and twenty pounds lighter than I currently am, so that drives behavior like daily exercise and eating in moderation.  I could use more of each.  But larger goals require some deep thought and self-knowledge.  I would be better off long term in my career if I developed a more strategic and productive channel, met with more and better qualified clients and prospects and if I measure the results.

      “If you can’t measure it, you can’t improve it.” – Peter Drucker

      Tracking the key activities is essential to accomplishing the big things.  What gets tracked gets done.  Which means breaking down big goals into daily habits, which are tasks done automatically and repeated day-to-day.  Epictetus would say do what you have to do, Bill Bellichick would say “Do your job.” and Peter Drucker would say “Do you duty”.

      “Our duty is rarely easy, but it is important.  It’s also usually the harder choice.  But we must do it.” – Ryan Holiday