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    • The Start is the Thing

      “A year from now you may wish you had started today.” — Karen Lamb

      This quote has been with me for many years now. It’s spurred me to begin habits that turned into streaks and are now part of my identity. But it’s not a magic spell casting itself over all that I wish to do. In fact, it has no power at all over wishes, for wishes live outside of us. We humans may only take steps and the occasional leap forward.

      The start is the thing. From the start we may keep going and start again tomorrow and the next day. Every great system, every great cause, every great partnership—everything great—begins with the start. From it we may then build momentum.

      So what are we waiting for? Wishes? Wishes are low agency. When we wish we want someone else to fill in the steps for us. Steps are high agency. For steps are ours to take. Put one foot in front of the other and soon you’ll be walking across the floor kind of agency.

      The thing is, we can start so many things in a lifetime. We aren’t one trick ponies. Think about all the great things we once started and just kept doing. Maybe some not-so-great things too. Those things we ought to get rid of, starting today.

      Is there a better day than now to start? Always. That’s why we haven’t started already, isn’t it? But a step isn’t a leap, it’s just a step. Start small and make tomorrow’s step a bit bigger, and so on. It doesn’t really matter so much how big the step is, but we’ll look back on it one day as a leap.

    • A Provocation to Venture

      During the pandemic I latched on to a couple of sailing vlogs that reminded me of why I wanted to be out in the world, and allowed me to be out there when we were all sheltered in place. Sailing friends pointed me towards the YouTube channels SV Delos, Sailing Uma and Ran Sailing and I was easily hooked on their visits to places I could only imagine at that time in the pandemic. Those channels led me to other travel channels, and before I knew it I was subscribing to more than I could possibly watch while still living a productive, engaged life of my own.

      When the world opened up again, travel vloggers offered an easy research opportunity: to see a place before you visit that place so you may pick the very best places to go when you get there. Want to eat the best pizza in Napoli? There are plenty of vlogs that will point you towards the highest rated, and you hungrily watch as they eat pizza and rate their favorite. From there it’s up to you to follow along or ignore their opinion altogether and go your own way.

      Visiting Seceda a couple of years ago, surely one of the most stunning places I’ve ever been in my life, we were struck by the sheer number of people clearly there to use the jagged mountains as a backdrop for Instagram photos and vlogging banter. We could shake our heads at the folly of it all, but the reason I even knew the place existed was from seeing it on a travel vlog myself. Vlogs, blogs and podcasts are the democratization of lifestyle media, and one can appreciate the form without being sucked into the vortex. There’s no doubt it can devolve into a hustle for attention in an increasingly competitive world. Why not simply experience a place instead of launching a drone or reading a script or showing a little more skin? Our lives don’t have to be coin-driven all the time.

      Watching a few of these vlogs offers some insight, but who wants to simply fund the lifestyle of someone else instead of finding a way to live a larger life ourself? Instead of vlogging my life for others to see, I write about my experiences in this blog, and happily live anonymously without the recognition a GoPro and a selfie stick offer. My choice is more insular than theirs, but that doesn’t mean I don’t post pictures from Seceda or Iceland or Muir Woods on social media and write a blog post about each of these places too. It’s a fine line between sharing our experiences and bragging about them. And of course, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

      Coming back to those sailing channels on YouTube, the trend now seems to be about building new boats or completely remodeling the one they have. Their channels are thus pivoting and they’re asking their subscribers to follow along. It seems that somewhere on the other side of that selfie stick are people who aren’t as satisfied with where they are, or with how much money they’re making, or maybe with the people they’re missing while they’re off making YouTube videos in faraway places. We’re all just figuring things out as we go through life. Some people just post about it more often.

      My bride watches home improvement programs and has some great ideas about how to remodel our home. I watch travel vlogs and have more reckless ideas about skipping out of town and seeing the world on a leaky boat over-provisioned with perishables and beer. Reality lies somewhere in between. We’ve made some big improvements on our home and garden as a result of her creativity and my sweat equity, and we’ve been to some places we’d never have gone to otherwise simply because we were inspired by something we saw someone else doing. When it’s all said and done, life is a short dance with our potential. The best vlogs, blogs, podcasts and sure, the best home improvement programs, explore that dance and provoke others to venture further themselves.

    • To Rest

      “The template of natural exchange is the breath, the autonomic giving and receiving that forms the basis and the measure of life itself. We are rested when we are a living exchange between what lies inside and what lies outside, when we are an intriguing conversation between the potential that lies in our imagination and the possibilities for making that internal image real in the world; we are rested when we let things alone and let ourselves alone, to do what we do best, breathe as the body intended us to breathe, to walk as we were meant to walk, to live with the rhythm of a house and a home, giving and taking through cooking and cleaning. When we give and take in an easy foundational way we are closest to the authentic self, and closest to that self when we are most rested. To rest is not self-indulgent, to rest is to prepare to give the best of ourselves, and to perhaps, most importantly, arrive at a place where we are able to understand what we have already been given.” — David Whyte, Rest

      Some weeks are busier than others. Some are more restful than others too. This past week was more the former than the latter. In the natural ebb and flow of life, I enter the weekend focused on rest and recovery. Perhaps I’ll find it, but then again, I’m back to writing before the dawn.

      Many Americans aren’t particularly good at rest. We charge along, even on our days off, trying to make the most of our time. We forget sometimes the exchange, as Whyte so eloquently reveals: to rest is to prepare to give the best of ourselves. Rest is not self-indulgent, yet we so often believe it to be so.

      To view rest as a natural exchange is to acknowledge that the work will come again, but not just yet. There is a time for everything, including rest. The work will surely be there when we return to it. So if you begin to wonder what I’m up to loafing around so much, remember that I’m not being lazy today: I’m preparing.

    • Time to Check the Dial

      I raise my hand and touch the wheel
      Of change
      Taking time to check the dial
      — Cat Stevens, Lilywhite

      Are we halfway through another month? We ask, “where does the time go?” while all along we know; we know. These are days to remember, if we’d only stop rushing through them as if each isn’t precious.

      We make too much of such things as time, instead of just living in it. We calculate the time it takes, the time since, the time too. We ought to focus on the seasons and the tides and the incremental changes that come with staying with something long enough to be aware of what’s different now. Awareness matters so very much—why do we distract ourselves so often, that things slip away in the absence of attention?

      This trip around the sun we’re all collectively on is full of the memorable and the forgettable, but they’re our shared moments just the same. I’m learning to stop rushing so much. I’m learning to slow down. Still, time flies just the same. And there’s that word again.

    • The Gospel According to This Moment

      “Above all, we cannot afford not to live in the present. He is blessed over all mortals who loses no moment of the passing life in remembering the past. Unless our philosophy hears the cock crow in every barnyard within our horizon, it is belated. That sound commonly reminds us that we are growing rusty and antique in our employments and habits of thoughts. His philosophy comes down to a more recent time than ours. There is something suggested by it that is a newer testament,—the gospel according to this moment. He has not fallen astern; he has got up early and kept up early, and to be where he is is to be in season, in the foremost rank of time.”
      — Henry Miller, The Colossus of Maroussi

      Today’s post, later than the norm, is indicative of a busy life. The writing happens when it may happen, and is published shortly thereafter. The only thing I can control is my commitment to the process. A great but full day is no excuse not to check the box, and I’m particularly happy to share this quote from Henry Miller.

      In weeks like this, when it feels like I’m rushing literally everywhere all day long and something as quaint as posting a daily blog feels like just one more burden, I pull back and remember why I’m doing this at all. These are my breadcrumbs as I become whatever I will be in this lifetime. Surely some are spaced more tightly together than others as you see familiar themes pop up again and again, but it’s been a journey nonetheless.

    • On the Tail End

      I was thinking about my adult children through the lens of Tim Urban’s famous blog post, The Tail End. It reminded me that I’m on the flip side of his statement about his parents. Now I’m the parent with kids that live away from home. In many ways I’m on the tail end of my relationship with them (having already spent 90% of the time I’ll have with them in our lifetimes together). Nothing focuses the mind on the most important things in life than realizing you’re in the waning moments of any one of those important things. Sure, we may have another 40 years or more together, or we may have run our course already, we’re never really sure are we? So embrace it, and them, when you’re together.

      That got me thinking about some close friends. A couple of them will be sailing away again later this year for an extended adventure to faraway places. Sure, we’ll visit them in a few of those places, but it’s not like we’ll be seeing them every weekend then. Another couple of friends hike every weekend and invite me to tag along, which I rarely do nowadays. This has led to an absence similar to if they’d sailed away like those other friends. Life calls us where it will and perhaps we’ll see them again one day, but that tail end seems apparent.

      When you build a career in one industry, you build a network of people whom you come to rely on to always have your back, to always be present. Change industries and see how quickly those relationships disappear. It’s a lot like college or growing up in a certain neighborhood. Most relationships are built on convenience. Few survive the removal of that convenience of proximity when it’s gone. Sure, there may be a Christmas card every year, or a social media “like” as we keep track each other, but are these the same?

      The point of all this, as Urban himself suggested, is to be fully present in those moments together, for we never really know how many we’ll have. To be aware is the greatest gift we can give to those we care about, whether we’re at the start of something beautiful or in the waning moments of our time together. Put the phone down. Listen and speak with the perspective of having heard. Be here, now. For it’s all we really have together.

    • The Twenty-Year Filter

      “Our culture has engaged in a Faustian bargain in which we trade our genius and artistry for stability.” — Seth Godin, Graceful

      Some risk is necessary for true reward. This we know to be true. But we also know that there’s reward in being firmly anchored to something of substance when it gets a bit stormy. The trick is to know when to leave the safe harbor and when to stay put. As with everything, life is a balancing act skating the line between order and chaos.

      “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines! Sail away from safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover!” — Attributed to, but definitely NOT Mark Twain, rather a quote from H. Jackson Brown

      The twenty-year filter is a helpful way to approach decision-making: Will staying in the safe harbor be something I regret in twenty years or ensure I make it another day on my journey to twenty years? Will this work mean anything in twenty years? Will I be healthy enough to do this thing I want to do now in twenty years? Will there be any glaciers to hike in twenty years? And so on. Each question posed reveals a truth to us that guides us. Often the answer is, “Don’t wait!” Sometimes the answer is, “Not this”. And sometimes that answer is, “Not yet”.

      When we can see the forest for the trees, we gain perspective, insight and a proper sense of direction. Twenty years is about a quarter of a lifetime, if we’re lucky, and gives us a big enough runway to take off for wherever we want to go. In twenty years one can raise a couple of infants to adulthood, build sustained career momentum through a collected network of trusted business associates, pick up an advanced degree or gain mastery in a desired skill. Or we can fritter it away on the trivial and inconsequential. It’s a good round number that is useful in so many ways.

      When I look back on the last twenty years, I’m stunned by how quickly it flew by, but also thrilled with the better decisions I’ve made in that time. The poor decisions weigh on me too, but when we live a life of personal integrity and accountability, the good often outweighs the bad. Those good decisions were often unconsciously made with a long-term view, the bad with a distinctly short-term view. Putting a spotlight on this process with a twenty-year filter often makes our choice even more obvious. What exactly are we trading off later for this choice now?

    • A Workhorse or Show Pony?

      There’s an old expression, more a question of character, that floats around in the workplace. Simply put, when we talk of employees, are they workhorses or show ponies? Some people shun the spotlight, grind away at the work that must be done and move on to the next project when it’s complete. Some people avoid the tough work but appear busy, and look for the spotlight and the opportunity to shine. The inference, naturally, is to be the workhorse.

      I’ve been the workhorse in my professional life and in my pursuits outside of work. Some days I’d rather be with the ponies prancing around in the green grass, doing nothing much at all. Wouldn’t that be nice? Why must we always be the workhorse? Because who really wants to hang around with show ponies all day? What kind of life is that, friend? A life of posturing and surface-level conversations, lackluster commitment to anything substantive, quick abandonment when fashion changes. Show ponies live a life of bullshit and betrayal. In that world, if you aren’t in the spotlight you’re in the shadow.

      We see examples all around us. I watch a couple of YouTube channels for entertainment. I’ve noticed that some shows start off as one or two workhorses doing what they can to keep afloat. Tough projects are shown, not to celebrate the workhorse nature of the horses, but to show how they did it (with the underlying message being; maybe you can too). The best of these channels retain this spirit, but most spiral into the YouTube formula of chasing subscribers and patreons to fund their adventures. Simply put: most turn into show ponies.

      Did you watch the United States’ State of the Union last week? A room full of show ponies posing as workhorses. Want to make progress in a world full of complicated problems? Elect more workhorses. The problem is that most workhorses don’t want the spotlight, and some turn into show ponies when they find they like the spotlight a little too much. The upcoming election will have a workhorse against a show pony. Deep down we know which is which, and our future is literally at stake based on which horse wins the race.

      The question is, what are we? We can be both at different times in our lives. I was a workhorse for part of the weekend doing projects around the yard. When I’m presenting in front of a room full of people I turn into a show pony, making the most of the spotlight while I’m in it. In between we settle into a routine that reveals who we really are. Anyone can be a workhorse or a show pony, it’s all conditioning and reward. So as we begin another day, isn’t it fair to ask ourselves, “just who do we want to be in this world today?” The world answers, “what do you think we need more of right now?”

    • A Great Day Not to be Dead (With the Egopantis and Thee)

      I thought about my car crash and my close call
      I started getting sentimental
      I said, I love this house, I love you guys
      I even love my rusty old car outside
      And I’m so happy to be alive with you
      Let’s do all the things we always said that we would do
      ‘Cause it’s a great day
      It’s a great day
      It’s a great day
      It’s a great day
      And it’s a great day to not be dead
      — Don White, Great Day

      “The Bull Run has been a Tavern for centuries and was the first stop on the Boston-to-Albany Stagecoach route in the 1800s.” — History of the Bull Run Restaurant

      Mounted to the fireplace near the bar of The Bull Run is the head of a creature they call the egopantis. When you see it, you’ll never really forget it, mostly because your first and last reaction when seeing it is, “What the hell is that thing?” Could it be a bear or a buffalo with a distinctive facial birth defect? Or someone’s art project made eternal? The tall tales told by the establishment are enjoyable but only lead to more questions. The only certainty as we navigate fact and fiction in this complicated world is that most answers are a load of bull. So we’d clearly come to the right place.

      That we go through our lives with so few opportunities to see good friends over good food and fun live music is unfortunate. Life really should be a celebration; a forever birthday to mark the miracle of our dance through this time and place together. Life really is what we make of it. So we made our way to the quiet town of Shirley, Massachusetts for a night of live music with the beautiful comedic soul Don White. And we found some magic. Not just a strange bit of taxidermy on the wall magic, but the kind of magic that happens when you gather around a table with some of your favorite people in the world to enjoy some live music. We all remember the worst days of the pandemic when we’d wish for such moments to come back again. Here we are.

      A place as old as The Bull Run has seen a lot of characters come through its doors. A night out with Don White, the edopantis and thee was another layer on the life experience cake. We were simply the latest weary world travelers who stopped in for the night. We may not be able to get a room at the inn like we might have once upon a time, but we can surely have a memorable evening. Memories are what stay with us, after all, so let’s do all the things we always said that we would do. We are history makers one and all.

      Egopantis decked out for St. Patrick’s Day

    • For Discovery

      “We’ve been trained to believe that mediocre obedience is a genetic fact for most of the population, but it’s interesting to note that this trait doesn’t show up until after a few years of schooling.” — Seth Godin, Graceful

      “Fear of living without a map is the main reason people are so insistent that we tell them what to do.” — Seth Godin, Graceful

      A few days ago, Seth Godin offered up his e-book Graceful as a free download. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I downloaded it immediately and read it almost as quickly. It’s a short book jammed with little nuggets of gold like the quotes above. Seth’s best books and blog posts are tiny gems that punch above their weight. Something to aspire to as a writer—perhaps I’ll arrive there myself in a few thousand more blog posts.

      Many of us wing it in certain parts of our lives, but meticulously plan other parts. I write what flows through me when I sit down to write, but feed myself with a steady diet of reading material and life experience to widen the lens. The result is an often eclectic mix of topics that are most certainly not what some sign up for. But who wants to read or write about the same thing every day anyway? Art, learning and living a full life should be a meandering progression.

      There’s something overly formal about mapping out our experiences, but there’s value in the process. I have some travel coming up this spring that I’m particularly excited about. With every trip I take, I do a ton of research and planning to optimize my time in any given place. I leave some room for discovery, but in general I live my life in the fashion the lyrics of an old Seals and Croft song, “We May Never Pass This Way (Again)”. You don’t have to look up the lyrics: that’s it right there in the title. It’s the kind of ear worm song you curse for it’s persistence, but a good reminder to be fully aware in the moment.

      We don’t venture out into the world for predictable. We venture for discovery. When we leave the rigidity and structure of the classroom, we either spiral into indifference or grow into a fascination with the world and our place in it. To be lifetime students of living seems an aspiration worthy of our remaining time, don’t you think? Our growth depends on it.