Category: Culture

  • The Joy of Throwing Axes

    When you think about the combined activities of drinking alcoholic beverages and throwing axes around in a room, one might fairly ask the question, “what’s the worst that could happen?” and come up with some cringe-worthy images. Yet humans have been throwing sharp objects while drinking for as long as there have been humans and sharp objects to throw. We’ve just moved the throwing of said objects into a controlled environment.

    The act of throwing an axe is surprisingly easy and intuitive. If you closed your eyes for a moment and imagined throwing an axe you’d likely have a proper go of it on your first attempt. And so it is in when you’ve lubed your brain with a beverage or two. Rest assured there’s always an adult hovering around to make sure the basics are covered. Basics like proper respect for a deadly object.

    Axe throwing is done in a cage. The host accepts your money, has you sign away any liability and sprays the cork wall with water to moisten it, so that the axes sink in more often than bounce off the target (I’m guessing it also extends the life of the cork). After a few minutes of basic instruction, you go about throwing axes.

    The axes themselves are light stainless steel in a couple of sizes, so you don’t have to be Conan to throw the axe. The target itself is projected onto the cork, giving you a clear idea of what you’re throwing at. As with darts, you can receive progressively more points the closer to the center you get, but as with Skee Ball there are a couple of enticing small targets where you can score higher if you hit them or much lower if you miss. The rules of the arcade and life apply: It’s all about risk and reward. If you’ve played either darts or Skee Ball you’ll know where to throw. And that’s a good thing, because after all, people are drinking.

    The act of throwing an axe and sticking it into the wall is profoundly satisfying and exhilerating. Our ancestors would be proud of us, sort of, for keeping the family trade alive. Or maybe they’d look around and wonder why they bothered to keep the gene pool going with all that fighting and impaling back in the day. Still, I bet they’d be a ringer in a game of axe throwing.

    This may seem a trivial pursuit, and perhaps a trivial blog post too. Then again, life is about plucking joyful moments out of thin air. With all the stress and darkness in the world, it’s fun to do something completely primordial and delightfully analog. Go throw an axe—I dare you not to smile from ear-to-ear.

  • RIP, Gordon Lightfoot

    The legends of music are falling like autumn leaves now. Each one a gut punch of nostalgia and loss. I’d hoped to see Gordon Lightfoot this year, but he cancelled his tour just a few weeks before passing away last night. It felt like the end was near for him, and here we are. It’s a lesson to each of us—never postpone for tomorrow what you might do now. I passed on many opportunities to see Lightfoot in concert, I just put it off for another day that will never come. So it is.

    Lightfoot got me through a few dark days in my 20’s, back when a relationship was falling apart and I was figuring out what to do with myself next. He could make you feel like he’d written the song with you in mind, with a silky smooth voice to sooth the most restless spirit. Here are just four of Gordon Lightfoot’s songs that have meant a lot to me in my life:

    If You Could Read My Mind
    If you could read my mind, love
    What a tale my thoughts could tell
    Just like an old time movie
    ‘Bout a ghost from a wishing well
    In a castle dark or a fortress strong
    With chains upon my feet
    But stories always end
    And if you read between the lines
    You’ll know that I’m just trying to understand
    The feelings that you lack

    The breakup song to end all breakup songs. The anthem of the jilted. And one of the most beautiful songs ever written. This is the song that everyone will reference when they talk of the loss of Gordon Lightfoot. It’s the song that made his career, and it will always be the entry point for so many into his catalog of songs.

    Wherefore And Why
    Then all at once it came to me
    I saw the wherefore
    And you can see it if you try
    It’s in the sun above
    It’s in the one you love
    You’ll never know the reason why

    Deeper into Gord’s catalog, we find this amazing song of hope, resilience and purpose. Sometimes the answer isn’t out there on the road, it’s right at home. I think of this song sometimes as the sun rises and I greet the new day.

    Song For A Winter’s Night
    If I could only have you near
    To breathe a sigh or two
    I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
    On this winter night with you

    When those we love are absent from our lives, what are we to do with ourselves? This is a song of longing framed within beautiful lyrics and melody. We’ve all felt this way, alone and missing someone. Wishing it weren’t so.

    The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
    Does any one know where the love of God goes
    When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
    The searchers all say they’d have made Whitefish Bay
    If they’d put fifteen more miles behind her
    They might have split up or they might have capsized
    They may have broke deep and took water
    And all that remains is the faces and the names
    Of the wives and the sons and the daughters

    A song that memorialized the lives of a crew caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, like so many sailors before and since. It’s timeless and epic and a bigger sound than anything else in Lightfoot’s catalog. You turn this one up loud and sing along, and appreciate that it wasn’t you on that ship as everything went wrong.

  • Going Further

    “All people, no matter who they are, all wish they’d appreciated life more. It’s what you do in life that’s important, not how much time you have or what you wished you’d done.” — David Bowie

    “If you feel safe in the area you’re working in, you’re not working in the right area. Always go a little further into the water than you feel you’re capable of being in. Go a little bit out of your depth. And when you don’t feel that your feet are quite touching the bottom, you’re just about in the right place to do something exciting.” — David Bowie

    How did you spend your time in the last 24 hours? Did you find yourself out of your depth? Someplace exciting? I hope so. My own time was spent digging a ditch for a drainage pipe, and then filling it in again. And I tried a new way to cook bone-in pork chops and corn on the cob. On the surface, none of this is particularly exciting, but it was all unique experience compared to the norm. Life is about trying new things to see what we’re capable of, after all. Sometimes those new things seem pretty mundane.

    The point is to do more things out of our comfort zone. I’ll never be a rock star, but I’ll keep trying new things in this lifetime. I can confirm that 26 meters of ditch digging teaches you a few things about yourself. There was always going to be sweat equity paid this weekend, whether a hike or a long walk on the beach. Both of those sound a lot better than digging that ditch, but I’ve done each many times in my life. The ditch informed. And now that it’s done, I will take that labor with me to the next decision I make down the road.

    Choosing adventure and experience over the routine is a path towards a larger life. But so too is choosing the small challenges that everyday living presents to us. We won’t always be up on a stage with the spotlights on us, but we can all appreciate life a bit more. Doing more is the way.

    David Bowie might have been a rock & roll star, but he was also an avid reader, who would look around at all the books in his library mournfully, knowing he couldn’t possibly read them all in his lifetime. We all feel that way about something in this brief lifetime. All we can do is live with urgency and celebrate what we manage to get to in our days.

  • Putting It All Out There

    “If today’s social media has taught us anything about ourselves as a species, it is that the human impulse to share overwhelms the human impulse for privacy.” ― Kevin Kelly, The Inevitable: Understanding the 12 Technological Forces That Will Shape Our Future

    But all the promises we make
    From the cradle to the grave
    When all I want is you
    — U2, All I Want Is You

    They say that sharing is caring, but the twist is that the share is what we care about at all. Life is change, how we process that within ourselves is ours alone… until we share it. So much of what we think and feel becomes part of the collective with a click. What happens after the click is out of our control, but something is released from us anyway. We’ve put ourselves out there in a declaration of the moment and try to move on to the next.

    The reader is in a time machine, picking up where we left off and processing our unique stack of words into thought. Sometimes a comment coming back to me after something I’ve published throws me for a loop, and I need to re-read what I wrote to see who I was at the time. We’re each on our path to becoming, and who I’ve become after clicking publish is somewhat different than the person I was before.

    That timestamp of the moment isn’t trivial, for it’s a brief glimpse into our fragile lifetime. As the years go by, so do the moments. Is sharing a grasp for the elusive amber? We can’t be forever locked in any moment but through the media that carries on after us. Still, there’s a big difference between a journal and a blog post, isn’t there? Should there be?

    What compels us to share anything of ourselves at all? Do we need to clear space for our new identity? Are we leaving breadcrumbs for others who might be inclined to follow? Perhaps the very act of sharing of ourselves is integral to becoming whatever it is we’re moving towards. Each of us have our reasons—our why— for sharing that run beyond ourselves. This why is the puzzle in everything shared, to be discovered by others.

  • RIP, Harry Belafonte

    “When you grow up, son, never ever go to bed at night knowing that there was something you could have done during the day to strike a blow against injustice and you didn’t do it.”
    ― Harry Belafonte, My Song: A Memoir

    I goin’ talk to Miss Brigit Bardot
    And tell her “Miss Bardot take it slow”
    All the men think they’re Casanova
    When they see that she’s bare foot all over
    Even old men out into beaker
    Find their hearts getting weaker and weaker
    So I goin’ to ask her for your sake and mine
    At least to wear her earrings part at the time
    And I’m singing
    Back to back, belly to belly
    Don’t give a damn, done dead already
    Uh-oh, back to back, belly to belly
    At the Zombie Jamboree, oh

    — Harry Belafonte, Zombie Jamboree (Back to Back)

    Harry Belafonte was always the guy who was going to live forever. He was a time machine back to the 50’s and 60’s, when the world was innocent, at least on the surface. He brought a joyful naughtiness to the vanilla music scene, and he brought energy. Songs like Zombie Jamboree and Jump in the Line were and are music to make you move and make you smile. This is joyful music that makes you happy to be alive.

    The peak of Belafonte’s career was well before my time, but you just look at the popular music of the era, and he just stands out. He also stood up, fighting for civil rights at a time when his prominent voice and magnetism made a big difference. He’s one of those people who seemed larger than life well beyond his active days. And now that his days are done, he will continue to live on for the joyful music he brought to the world, and the positive change he helped inspire.

  • Self… Less

    “A person totally wrapped up in himself makes a small package.” — Harry Emerson Fosdick

    It’s human nature to see the world through our own lens, but that doesn’t make it productive or particularly informative. So how do we reconcile this with a blog published daily? At what point does it become a vanity play? The very act of producing daily is a statement of self (Look: I’m still here!”), but it shouldn’t ever be about the self.

    When the writing becomes too self-absorbed, it become less interesting, as selfies make the worst photographs. A selfie may create an image for the photographer to remember the moment, but by nature the place the picture is being taken in is dominated by the person, screaming “Me!” for all who will listen. Writing in a self-absorbed way is simply journalling in disguise.

    The tricky thing about living in a world that celebrates the individual so much is that it promotes so much individualism. Yet we are at our very best when we’re part of something bigger than ourselves. The self often gets in the way on our path to something more. Self… less is a better mission. It focuses the mind on bigger things, inherently beyond the limitations of the individual.

    “We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak.” — Epictetus

    Each day offers an opportunity to reach for the mirror or the telescope. Which will help us see beyond our present position? Yet we each have our verse to contribute. This daily practice of becoming ought to be documented. Does this create a contradiction? That depends on the underlying motivation of the writer. To contribute to the conversation is an act of generosity. To dominate the conversation is something less. The mission is clear: to draw from the self to contribute to something beyond it.

  • A Dip Towards the Immeasurable

    “Who knows what is beyond the known? And if you think that any day the secret of light might come, would you not keep the house of your mind ready? Would you not cleanse your study of all that is cheap, or trivial? Would you not live in continual hope, and pleasure, and excitement?” — Mary Oliver, Winter Hours

    I woke up much earlier than usual, mind still processing the noise of the previous few days, and reached for a familiar voice in Mary Oliver. In the quest to live a larger life, sometimes we find ourselves overloaded with responsibilities, frenzy and noise. Like a wave crashing on the beach, the chaos will recede but inevitably return again. Life is ebb and flow, and we must find a place of peace away from the churn. Meditation and prayer come in many forms, for me best found in nature, motion and poetry. We are at our best when we leave ourselves and focus on the universe instead. When we stay within ourselves we forget the connection.

    We’re forever walking in the churn, seeking reassurance and a clear path. Sometimes the answer is to step away from the madness, and sometimes we must wade deeper still, but we often won’t know for sure. Simply taking the next step is better than trying to stand still as our footing erodes beneath our feet. The universe respects active participation.

    “And as with prayer, which is a dipping of oneself toward the light, there is a consequence of attentiveness to the grass itself, and the sky itself, and to the floating bird. I too leave the fret and enclosure of my own life. I too dip myself toward the immeasurable.” — Mary Oliver, Winter Hours

    We tend to confuse the structure of organized religion for spirituality and purpose. There may be a net benefit to knowing the rules of the game, but we often lose sight of our reason for being in the game at all. Life is a brief dance with the light, the brilliance of which we barely understand when we step aside for the next dancer. We forget that we are all collectively a part of this lean into understanding. It will continue long after we’re gone. And so it is that what comes next is not for us to dwell on. Our attentiveness to now is all that really matters.

  • Analog and Delightful

    Change is good, but it can also be a pain in the ass. This is exemplified by the forced version upgrades Apple puts us through before we can resume our regularly scheduled activity. Microsoft has their own version of upgrade hell, and I’ve recently undergone the process of re-learning everything I thought I knew about Microsoft Office when I was issued a new laptop PC for work. There’s something to be said for pen and paper in this constantly changing world of technology.

    If I sound like an old dog, well, forgive me. I pride myself on keeping up, I just prefer choosing the time and place for when my world is turned upside down. Tech doesn’t work that way. Critical updates and staying a step ahead of the bad guys is paramount, and [sorry, but] f**k your feelings, friend. It’s not about us with tech, it’s about the greater good versus the underlying bad. Here we are, buttercup; embrace the suck. Amor fati.

    The thing we must accept is that the people building all these tech tools love to fiddle around with this Pandora’s box. The rest of us, simply wanting efficiency in our lives, are along for the ride. Once we’re on the ride, we’re on. Buckle up and mind your hands. No loose items allowed. Carpe diem.

    I’ve been telling myself that the blog site needs an upgrade for a long time now. While acknowledging that fact, I nonetheless avoid doing anything about it because there is pain associated with that change. Ah, yes, the excuses: I’ll have to learn new things and I don’t have time to learn right now. Re-designing the blog will be disruptive and inherently full of risk. All I really care about is writing and sharing that writing every day, what’s the point of a forklift upgrade on the web site?

    Sooner or later, we have to rip off the bandaid. Technology will continue to evolve to torture us, er, to make our lives easier. We must learn to keep pace. We aren’t old dogs, friends, we’re surfers riding the bleeding edge of technology wherever it takes us. As with most tech, it will end up in the recycling center, dusty and forgotten, soon enough. Memento mori. But that’s then, this is now. Just do it. Just remember to change your password to something impossible to remember, er, hack.

    One of the small joys I have each day is taking out my bullet journal and tracking my progress on tasks, streaks and long-term goals. It’s all so very analog and delightful. I like to think of myself as technologically savvy, but I’m just fooling myself. All this technology is a means to an end, the rest is just a game played by someone else’s rules. Give me simplicity. For deep down, I just want to be analog and delightful too.

  • Greek Coffee

    Greek coffee is a lot like Cuban or Turkish coffee. Strong and bitter and best mixed with a bit of sweetness. They warn you when you receive it not to drink it to the last drop, for you’ll find the grounds there. There’s none of that filtering nonsense with Greek coffee, friend. Americans drink to the last drop, the Greeks leave a bit behind. Call it an offering to the gods if you will, or simple prudence.

    You might anticipate the effect of a strong Greek coffee after dinner on my sleep pattern. Timing is everything with new experiences. In fact, I could use another one of those coffees as a reset for the day ahead. The caffeine will be welcome, but it surely won’t be as interesting as that first taste of something similar, but entirely different.

    We’re blessed with so much in this modern world, isn’t it a tragedy to order the same things on the menu every day? Our best life is full of new and enriching moments, grounded by the people and experiences that carried us to this moment. That openness to new experiences rewards us with a richness far beyond our bank accounts. Visit the uncommon places, order something you can’t pronounce now and then, opt for the local coffee instead of the Americano. Live! We are better for having gone there.

  • Orange and Order

    “Rejoice! The purpose of life is joy. Rejoice at the sky, the sun, the stars, the grass, the trees, animals, people. If this joy is disturbed it means that you’ve made a mistake somewhere. Find your mistake and correct it. Most often this joy is disturbed by money and ambition.”
    — Leo Tolstoy (via Poetic Outlaws)

    “No one is singular, that no argument will change the course, that one’s time is more gone than not, and what is left waits to be spent gracefully and attentively, if not quite so actively.” — Mary Oliver, Winter Hours

    Productivity and bold action have their place in this world, for progress depends on it. Progress for humanity, surely, but also for the individual. But we must remember too that we skate a line between Yin and Yang, and balance is the key. If Yang represents boldness and action, Yin represents temperance and reflection. It’s quite figuratively day and night, which may be why some of us find the orange hour in between to be our happiest place.

    Our best life is found in balance, and we feel the urge to lean in to both extremes now and then when our body and soul remind us of our imbalance. This disturbance of the Force (if you will) creates restlessness, which in turn triggers change. We all feel it in our own way. For me, it’s often the nagging question of “what’s next?” wrestling with the emphatic reply of “here and now”. Action calls, joy reminds. What will we listen to today?

    Somewhere along the way I’ve put aside some goals I’d been chasing for a lifetime. Somewhere along the way I’ve leaned into different objectives for the balance of my time. We are each in the process of becoming what’s next, and possibly even savoring what it is we’ve become thus far. Life is balance between the two, represented by orange and order. That balance is where the joy is.

    Orange Hour