Category: Culture

  • Borrowed Experience

    “It is far better to borrow experience than to buy it.” — Charles Caleb Colton

    Our lifestyle is roughly the same most days. My bride and I have nomadic tendencies, but circumstances are keeping us local lately more than in other ports of call. The pup and aging parents are our chosen anchors at this season in our lives, and we largely embrace the opportunity to spend time we won’t get back with each. Still, those nomadic tendencies stir under the surface. And this is where strategically borrowed experience can fill the gap.

    Most of us borrow experience, through reading great novels, watching immersive media, taking a weekend in a bed & breakfast somewhere or living abroad for an extended period for work, school or simply to change the landscape we walk out to each day. Often these borrowed experiences are a right of passage at different stages of our lives: going off to summer camp, going off to university, moving to a new place to start a job, and finding the religious, philosophical, political and social structures to wrap around ourselves to make that experience more fulfilling for us in that time in our lives.

    When does borrowed experience become a wholesale change in lifestyle? Probably the moment you stop thinking of the experience you’re having as borrowed at all. We grow into our lives, don’t we? Those structures we build around ourselves become our normal: physical structures like the roof over our heads or the boat we bob around in, social structures like the people who act as our touchstones in the world, each become part of our identity as we root ourselves into living that experience. At some point we aren’t borrowing the experience, the experience is who we are.

    Isn’t it better to try on the shoes before you buy them, just to see how they fit? We may find that once tried is just enough, or alternatively, that we love how we feel in them. Either way, we’ve had the experience and, if we’re fortunate, have the agency to choose what to do next. Life is change, after all, and those things we dabble in for a weekend getaway can easily become who we have become. The thing is, once we become that next thing, we begin to borrow other experiences and the whole thing begins again.

  • Opening Doors

    “One language sets you in a corridor for life. Two languages open every door along the way.”
    —Frank Smith, To Think: In Language, Learning and Education

    I’ve been skimming along with multiple languages for years now. Visit a country, try to learn some of the language. Visit another country, do it again with their native language. The similarities are easy to see when you do this with several languages in this way, we’re all connected after all. The thing about skimming is you pick up just enough to ask for the bathroom at a cafe or say please and thank you, but you aren’t immersing yourself in it long enough to keep up with rapid fire conversation, let alone mastery.

    I recently surpassed 1600 days in a row of learning on Duolingo. It’s a bit of an artificial accolade because there are streak busters that patch up a missing day here and there. Just before that 1600 day mark I missed two days in a row while on business travel and thought the whole thing would reset to zero. But no, it just repaired itself and here I am, a master of French, German, Portuguese and Italian (the languages I’ve been learning off and on during that streak). Which is nonsense, because dabbling in an app makes you a master of nothing but casual productivity.

    Still, there’s something about meeting someone halfway by learning their native language just enough to maintain a slow roll through a pleasant conversation. They almost certainly know some of my native language, but my speaking theirs informs them that I have some measure of respect for their identity that I’m willing to step out of my comfort zone and give it a go. Opening doors to new experiences begins with a bit of discomfort about what we’ll find when we step through. But I have yet to have it slammed in my face.

    My nephew teaches Spanish, and goes to Spain every summer to guide students on an immersion experience for several weeks. I think immersion is my own next step towards competency in another language. French is the likely candidate since I’ve been most consistent with it, but really any place that would have me sounds like a great candidate to me. Don’t we owe it to ourselves and those we may interact with to step out of the corridor we’ve been settling for and open some doors?

    When we dabble in anything we never develop the calluses earned through grinding it out. An athlete knows when another athlete has put the work in just by looking at them. A native speaker may appreciate us meeting them halfway by attempting a few words in their language, but would delight in a full conversation at natural speed with someone who put the work in to master it. To reach that point is something to aspire to on this road to becoming something more in our brief go with living. Life should be ever expansive as we grow into our potential. Tu ne serais pas d’accord ?

  • The Bright Side of the Road

    “We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy.” — Joseph Campbell

    Walking the dog yesterday, we came across two women; one pushing a baby stroller and the other walking two dogs. It was immediately obvious that one of the dogs was aggressive towards our dog. He pulled at his leash and snarled at our pup. Where there’s a will there’s a way, and he backed between the legs of the woman and squirmed out of his collar. Game on! As he charged towards our pup I quickly scooped her up in my arms and turned her away from the jaws of the charging dog until its owner was able to regain control of him. After some abundant apologies we each went our way on an otherwise pleasant walk.

    I get frustrated sometimes when close friends and family dwell on the darkness in the world. It’s always been there, and it always will be there. To believe otherwise is to believe in fairy tales or the flowery lies of politicians. The underlying truth is that joy has also existed in the world since the beginning of humanity. Quite often we get precisely what we seek in this life.

    “The way we choose to see the world creates the world we see.” — Barry Neil Kaufman

    I’m not advocating blindly navigating the world without awareness of the darker side of humanity. We must be aware and resilient to thwart threats against all we hold dear, but we can be aware of evil without wrapping our lives around it like a cloak. We may still trust in the inherent goodness in the world while still locking the door at night. Even still, we may be the light that illuminates the darkness that others may navigate to something better. When enough of us choose the bright side of the road the world may indeed become a more joyful place.

  • Left Turn Salvation

    I found myself in a bit of a traffic jamb last night in a stadium parking lot. I pulled up to the car ahead and noticed that they had already put their car in park. I followed their example and sat for a few minutes that turned into 45 awaiting some measure of forward progress. It wasn’t forthcoming.

    Upon further review, it was clear that the lot I was in was going deeper into the morass of gridlock (by going I don’t mean actually moving) while an adjacent lot on my left had a slow crawl of cars somehow making it out of the lot to the relative freedom of the road. There was a single lane access point to that lot available to those of us who were far enough back in the line. That made the decision to take a left turn onto the side lot a no-brainer, and soon I was free. Patience, and a strategic pause at a port-a-potty, saved the evening for us by placing us just far enough in the back of the line that we bypassed the misery others were experiencing for something better.

    It occurred to me that if I’d made just a little more progress on the original route I would have been stuck with that option for the duration. Sometimes being ahead of the crowd gets you more stuck than when you lag behind a bit more. Opportunities are often disguised as setbacks, and when we position ourselves well we simply have to see beyond the obstacles to find the better path.

  • The Summer Rail Trail Ride

    The beauty of rail trails is that it mostly removes the automobile from your list of concerns. There are the occasional road crossings where vehicular traffic must be assessed, and a maintenance truck sometimes makes an appearance, but that’s about it. Living in a town featuring roads with no shoulders for such luxuries as a cyclist or pedestrian sharing the way with a passing automobile (let alone two crossing at the exact same place as said cyclist or pedestrian), I appreciate a great rail trail. And a summer ride on a rail trail is one of the great experiences one can have on two wheels.

    Cape Cod has a few great trails and bikeways, including the Cape Cod Canal Bikeway, the Shining Sea Bikeway and the Cape Cod Rail Trail. Each offers beautiful views, automobile-free running room and great options for stopping for a break along the way. It’s a beautiful way to see corners of Cape Cod you’d otherwise never get to. And so the trails become very popular, especially in the height of summer. This is a blessing (utilization equates to more attention on maintaining and building more rail trails) and a curse (a rail trail crowded with joggers and walkers, kids on bicycles, skateboarders, e-bikes and cyclists looking for a brisk ride present ample opportunity for accidents). Rules of the road ought to be observed by all users of the trails, but inevitably there are plenty who just ignore all others and act like they’re all that matter in this world.

    As with everything, timing is everything. The best time to ride the trail for a brisk workout is early in the morning before the tourists and families arrive. The best time to take a leisurely ride with a stop for an ice cream or lunch is in the afternoon. And the best time to have the entire trail to yourself is on a cold, wet morning in the offseason when nobody in their right mind but a jogger, walker or cyclist would be out on a rail trail. In short, there’s a time and season for everyone on a rail trail, and you’ve just got to learn to find the one that works best for you.

    I’ve managed to go through another summer with only limited hiking and no paddling or sailing. I mourn the lost opportunity but when I reflect on that summer fitness and recreation time being filled with cycling, it doesn’t feel like a loss but an acceptable tradeoff. There’s always autumn for mountains and water sports. A summer of cycling has been a memorable and rewarding pursuit.

  • Someone Great

    “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” — Maya Angelou

    I had the opportunity to attend a 40th anniversary party this weekend. I married into the family well after they got married so I wasn’t around for that beginning, but I’ve seen them grow into their relationship, raise children into adulthood and seek out lifetime adventures together. They’re living a life together one should aspire to—present in each other’s lives, adventurous and fun, travelers who arrive in the lives of others when it matters most.

    I’m not the sharpest tack in the drawer, but I know a good thing when I find it. Being someone great in the life of one other life is a great starting point for building a long term relationship. Being great in the lives of your children builds a strong foundation from which they may grow into personal excellence themselves. Being a great friend to someone who is great leads to reciprocal growth for both parties.

    We may dilute ourselves only so much before there’s nothing great left of us. We feel when we’ve entered a vacuum devoid of reciprocity. We must be a friend to the world while understanding that the world will not always be our best friend. The way to stay filled is to find people who return the love and energy we give back to us. Life energy is finite, but infinitely available when we wade into the right stream.

    The trick to any great partnership is sustained momentum built on being present, engaged and equally invested in a hopeful future. For every stumble, there’s a hand lent to getting back up again, for every step forward there’s a hand to lift the other forward with us. Hand-in-hand we may thus move forward through this life together.

  • Lofty Expectations

    “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” — George Santayana

    “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes” – Mark Twain

    On my quest to be a lifetime learner I read a lot of history and philosophy in my spare time. Both subjects teach us that humans are fallible and the mistakes we inevitably make have tragic consequences. We must learn from the past, but mostly we repeat some iteration of it. History informs where societies spin off the tracks, philosophy teaches us how to get back on them. Pity that both subjects are largely ignored by the waves of humanity being told what to think.

    As the “greatest generation” passes and living memory of World War II and the Great Depression before it increasingly reside only in history books, it’s disappointing to see pundits twist facts for political gain, and it’s shameful to see learning the truth publicly shamed as woke by those who would have you only believe their words. We’ve been here before friends. We must choose to learn the lessons of history and be the voice of reason, and we must choose to learn the lessons of philosophy that we may find the moral strength to stay the course towards personal excellence, that we may live as an example of what is right in this world and guide others to a brighter future.

    This may seem rather lofty. Aren’t we allowed to have lofty expectations for ourselves and for the generations we coexist with? Would we rather be known as the ones who didn’t rise up when they could have made positive change in the world? History is full of such examples, but fortunately it’s also full of examples of people who pivoted at just the right moment to change the trajectory. I’d like to believe that might be us if we can ever put down the streaming cat videos and pay attention. Learning teaches us to be wary, but also cautiously optimistic. We may still get it right.

  • Time. Warped

    “We must not allow the clock and the calendar to blind us to the fact that each moment of life is a miracle and mystery.” ― H. G. Wells

    In a time warp kind of year, where the very idea of time seems askew, some perspective from H. G. Wells seemed appropriate. When we think about all that’s happened this summer, let alone this year, it might feel as if someone is playing with the clock and calendar to jamb more transformative change into ever tighter increments of time. Personally I’ve seen more twists and turns and backflips to my sense of what makes up normal than you see in an Olympic gymnastics floor routine. And August is stacked—doubling down on the crazy.

    None of this is new, only our perspective has changed. The world marches along at maddening speed, and we are either witnesses or active participants. Predictable is nice, but surprising developments and plot twists are what take our breath away. Life should be a fascinating page-turner, not some tedious slog through required reading. Instead of feeling overwhelmed we might simply say, “Wow, I didn’t see that coming” and muster up the courage to write the next scene.

    This is our time, for all its glory and ugliness. We may revel in the former while finding some way through the latter to better days. It all may feel warped in some moments but the pace of change has always been relative to how we look at such things anyway. All that ever matters is what we make of this—our day. Leaving the rest to history.

  • Raising Our Voice of Reason

    Our little lives get complicated
    It’s a simple thing
    Simple as a flower
    And that’s a complicated thing
    — Love and Rockets, No New Tale to Tell

    Wrestling with what comes next with the generation ahead of mine is complicated. Offering guidance to the young adults we raised when they have good heads on their own shoulders is also complicated. We ought to let people find their own way as much as we can, while remembering that we’re in their life for a reason. Sometimes we have something to offer in such moments.

    The world is very complicated right now. Sometimes it seems like our only purpose is to be a voice of reason in a maddeningly confused time. It seems some people are outraged by the opening ceremonies at the Olympics. I’m more outraged by children dying on a soccer pitch in the Golan Heights for no reason but that they were born in a place and time that made them expendable to someone with the means and inclination to wipe their lives away. I’m more outraged that we’re pissing away time focusing on petty instead of looking at the bigger issues this planet is facing right now. And yes, I’m more outraged that people are outraged by things they’re told to be outraged about instead of following their own moral compass.

    “Frodo: I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.
    Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”
    ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

    I don’t particularly want to make this blog political, and choose to focus on finding common ground instead. I feel the world needs more people pointing out the things that link us together instead of people pulling us apart, and so I use my keyboard accordingly. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t point out when we go astray. The human race is staggeringly complicated and stupefyingly simple all at once. Art is finding the beauty in the madness and helping others see what was right in front of them all along.

    Our job, should we choose to embrace it, is to raise our voice and bring reason to the conversation. The world doesn’t need another person screaming, and it doesn’t need another person who chooses to stay silent, it needs thoughtful consideration about what comes next and a measured response. It needs people who rise up and do what’s right when it feels like rising up will get you knocked down. This is our time, after all. So what will we do with reason when it asks for a voice?

  • A Unique Wonder

    I read somewhere that meteor showers
    are almost alwavs named after the constellation from which
    they originate. It’s funny, I think, how even the universe is telling us
    that we can never get too far
    from the place that created us.
    How there is always a streak of our past
    trailing closely behind us
    like a smattering of obstinate memories. Even when we enter a new atmosphere,
    become subsumed in flames, turn to dust, lose ourselves in the wind, and scatter
    the surface of all that rest beneath us, we bring a part of where we are from
    to every place we go.
    — Clint Smith, Meteor Shower

    Walking the pup the other night, I saw a shooting star far brighter and more colorful than the norm, with a very definite tail and distinct blues, greens and yellows in the burn. I thought for a moment that it might have been a stray firework but for the direction it was falling and the distinct shooting star vibe. Was it an elusive fireball or simply a particularly passionate meteor? I think the latter, but it was the brightest and most colorful I’d ever seen. This particular shooting star apparently contained enough copper, magnesium and iron to treat me to that display of blue, green and yellow I’d witnessed. Throw enough science at anything and the magic evaporates. Let’s just call it a unique wonder in a sky full of beautiful.

    I don’t write about the stars so much nowadays, but I still look up most every night and marvel at the universe. If we are indeed stardust then we are staring at our distant cousins out there. Some of us dwell on where we came from, some chalk it up to a Creator and dismiss any talk of science as sacrilege. None of us is really in the know on such things, and the people who shout the loudest are usually the ones who know the least. We all crave answers, don’t we? It’s just that some settle on the answer someone else tells them is true instead of remaining open to other possibilities. Where we come from, if we go back far enough, is infinity. We’ll return there someday soon. What we choose to call that infinity is up for discussion.

    The thing is, we all accept some version of where we came from, it’s where we’re going that we can’t quite understand. We are all shooting stars streaking across the sky to our final days, memento mori and all that. But we may add enough color to our lives to make our journey wonderful, and perhaps inspire others on their own journey too. In our dance with infinity, this brief time is unique to us. Shouldn’t we aspire to as much as we may fit in along the way?