Category: Lifestyle

  • To Do Bold Things

    “All courses of action are risky, so prudence is not in avoiding danger (it’s impossible), but calculating risk and acting decisively. Make mistakes of ambition and not mistakes of sloth. Develop the strength to do bold things, not the strength to suffer.” — Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince

    Risking all that we’ve built for some uncertain future is a fool’s game—at least that’s what we’ve been taught by our mothers and other well-meaning influencers in our lives. But tell me, without risk when exactly will we leap? We must develop our leaping ability through a series of calculated risks. This, friend, is our hero’s journey personified.

    “Do or do not. There is no try.” — Yoda

    Culturally, we celebrate the risk-takers because we know deep down that the leap they’ve taken is available to all of us in some form or fashion, but the leaper is unique for having done it. We may be inspired to take risks having witnessed theirs, or we may recoil back into habits of safety and assurance. We learn something about ourselves in either case.

    We all take calculated risks at some point in our lives—even our mothers risked it all to deliver our sorry ass into this world. It’s okay to be careful, and it’s good to play it safe in certain circumstances, but there are many times when we ought to let it ride. To go for it when the leap is worthy of a bold measure of risk honors those who risked it all to make our lives possible, and ultimately it honors our future potential and eventual legacy. We become the type of person who does things like this.

    Boldness is developed. But so is suffering. Decide what to be and go be it.

  • And So On

    The Lorax: Which way does a tree fall?
    The Once-ler: Uh, down?
    The Lorax: A tree falls the way it leans. Be careful which way you lean.
    ― Dr. Seuss, The Lorax

    I saw a bumper sticker on a car at a red light that was meant to goad the left. Something along the lines of: Straight. Conservative. Christian. Gun Owner. Is there anything else I can piss you off with? I looked at her in the mirror as she smoked a cigarette like she had to beat the light, then threw it on the pavement to burn out and roll around in the traffic. I thought to myself, maybe a few more things. If I ever wanted to concern myself with that level of self-celebratory misery anyway.

    We are each leaning the way we lean, however things may fall. I don’t put bumper stickers on my own vehicle, but if I did, it would be in the form of a question. Perhaps borrowing from old friend Mary Oliver, who asked the ultimate question we all ought to ask ourselves today and every day in The Summer Day:

    Tell me, what is it you plan to do
    with your one wild and precious life?

    Plans have a way of changing, because life changes and so do the living. When I was younger I was a master planner in all the things I would do one day. I’ve learned to stop planning so much and simply do. Do something right now that tilts that future possibility in our favor. Want to write that novel? Write. Want to lose 20 pounds? Move and make better choices in what goes in your mouth. And so on.

    And there’s the thing: And so on. And so each of our days is filled with habits and ritual, on and on to wherever they will take us. Be sure to lean in to the right habits and rituals. We are what we repeatedly do, as Aristotle once said and this blog has repeated, well, repeatedly. Aristotle quotes would make great bumper stickers too (tell that to the spent cigarette litterer).

    November is already a week old, and candidly, it’s not slowing down anytime soon. Life leaps forward even as the soul asks us to slow down and take it all in. To do a lot of things in a lifetime requires us to lean towards positive habits and productivity. But all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. When we lean into any one thing too much we tend to lose our balance. Don’t forget to fold something precious into each day.

  • More Than Virtual

    I always feel like somebody’s watchin’ me
    And I have no privacy (Oh-oh-oh)
    I always feel like somebody’s watchin’ me
    Tell me, is it just a dream?
    — Rockwell, Somebody’s Watching Me

    It was raining hard overnight, with a full moon to boot, but that didn’t stop my aurora notification from alerting me to the possibility of seeing the northern lights right now if I’d only get out of bed and step outside! Nope. Not taking the bait, thank you. But thank you for contributing to my not-so-excellent sleep score.

    If we let it, technology will increasingly control our lives. We learn to live by number of steps, VO2 max, heart rate, active minutes and rest. My Kindle app helpfully informs me that my reading streak ended (I don’t want to break it to the app, but I’ve been reading actual books behind its back). I get a notification telling me how much screen time I’ve had this week, and the irony of being notified to look at my screen doesn’t escape me. We’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t use these damned devices.

    We take our wearables with us everywhere, and increasingly, our phones as well. The other day I deliberately left my Garmin on my desk when I went to bed, just so I wouldn’t be scolded for my sleep score the next morning. The void in my data history will likely haunt me forever, but it was nice for one night to not be followed along every step of the way.

    Right. Not being followed. Who am I fooling? I walked into an LL Bean store to buy a new belt to replace the one that was now too big for me and now my Instagram feed is full of LL Bean advertisements. We have a virtual heat map of everywhere we’ve been whenever we wear or carry our technology. There is no escape save shedding it all and going analog.

    It’s not like I don’t appreciate the statistics. As a data-driven spreadsheet nerd, I love tracking trends, maintaining positive habit streaks and the like. But I like it on my terms. We’ve let the genie out of the bottle, and technology is not going back to the mainframe server room. We either dance with the devil or unplug completely. Which is worse? Ask AI, it will surely tell you.

    Maybe I’ll just begin by turning off the aurora notifications. Maybe. Fear of Missing Out (FOMO) is alive and well in such notifications, and they’re helpfully suggesting that we stop living a real life and look at the screen again. But just who do we want to be anyway? More than virtual, for starters.

  • Fully-Valued

    “To get the full value of joy you must have someone to divide it with.” — Mark Twain

    Joy shifts time. It locks moments in amber. It makes years seem like days, even as days seem like minutes. It’s all a collection of joyful minutes, sprinkled with the jolts that life throws at us all. We learn to value our time together for the shared experience of living as the world sweeps past us like a swollen river after a storm.

    Now everyone dreams of love lasting and true
    Oh but you and I know what this world can do
    So let’s make our steps clear that the other may see
    And I’ll wait for you, and if I should fall behind wait for me
    — Bruce Springsteen, If I Should Fall Behind

    We live in our time machine, my bride and I. I know it’s a time machine because I look at old photographs, or think back on certain moments, and when I compare them with the date they were taken I’m shocked by the time that has flown by. We are betrayed by years, but we aren’t yet old. But tell that to the kids and they’ll laugh. Tempus fugit, indeed.

    May your hands always be busy
    May your feet always be swift
    May you have a strong foundation
    When the winds of changes shift
    May your heart always be joyful
    May your song always be sung
    May you stay forever young
    — Bob Dylan, Forever Young

    Printing out a wedding photo, the clerk commented that I look the same as when the picture was taken. Looks are deceiving, I laughed. Health is its own time machine, and for the most part we’ve been blessed with good health, coaxed by fitness and nutrition and good-enough genes. We know that time always wins, no matter what time machine we fly about in. A joyful life softens the landing, but we’ll land one day like all who have come before us.

    Maybe time running out is a gift
    I’ll work hard ’til the end of my shift
    And give you every second I can find
    And hope it isn’t me who’s left behind
    — Jason Isbell and The 400 Unit, If We Were Vampires

    We learn not to worry about what we cannot control. To always be worrying is to forsake joy for uncertainty. The only certainty is this moment together, so make it count in quiet gestures and unspoken ways. Joy is rooted in love: love of life, love for another, love of the moments built one upon the other for as long as this ride may continue. Nothing lasts forever—we know this all too well. But enjoying each something for all it offers is a path to a fully-valued, joyful life.

  • Paper Tigers

    “The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure, the process is its own reward.” ― Amelia Earhart

    What are we afraid of anyway? Decide what to be and go be it. The alternative is to never try anything. What kind of a life is that? When we make a habit of making the bold choice something stirs within. We learn that we can do things beyond the ordinary.

    And so it is that we make our way towards the person we wish to become. Some days we leap forward, some days we slog along hoping for progress but finding we slid backwards. Looking around, we wonder if we made the right choice.

    Who we once were seems more attractive when things get especially challenging. But deep down we know better. Keep moving forward, towards the dream. Ordinary was nice, but extraordinary offers a better view.

    Be bold today—if only so that when we reach the end of the day we feel like we’ve really done something with the time. Which paper tiger do we need to tackle first? They tend to scatter once we’ve knocked off one or two of the big ones. There is no time like now to show them who’s boss.

  • Worthy of Devotion

    “Before you come alive, life is nothing; it’s up to you to give it a meaning, and value is nothing else but the meaning that you choose.” — Jean-Paul Sartre

    We may not know why we are here, or even why we should get out of bed at all, but the fact remains that we are here, contributing our verse (work in progress that it is), and isn’t participating in the bold act of discovery far more interesting than simply conceding that we don’t know, so why try at all? Do try, if only to find the next piece of the puzzle. If only to get beyond nothing to the abundance of somethings awaiting our discovery.

    If a daily devotional provides a spiritual set of the sail, suggesting a course correction that may need to happen, then Satre’s challenge to seek meaning is as informative as prayer. What is a devotional but the ritual of focus beyond ourselves to some greater purpose? To ask ourselves daily why we are here and what to do with the opportunity is a path to higher purpose.

    To ponder the potential of the self isn’t narcissistic, it’s expansive. When we ask, “what have I got to offer?”, we don’t focus on the “I”, but the “offer”. Devotion draws us beyond self, slipping towards the spiritual and the gracious—it slips towards meaning.

    Waking up is a strong indicator of being alive. In our quest to make this day something better than the last, shouldn’t we seek that which makes us truly feel alive? Simply going through the motions is a disservice to the potential of our vitality. What is worthy of our devotion? We may begin there.

  • Out of the Wordless

    This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
    Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
    Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou
    lovest best.
    Night, sleep, death and the stars.

    — Walt Whitman, A Clear Midnight

    Sleep comes easily on one end of the day, but retreats just as quickly on the other side. Call it the curse of the early bird in a nest full of night owls. As with any bird’s nest, a cat will create unrest. Nocturnal hunter, angry by nature—don’t you dare try to sleep any longer! And so sleep score be damned, I rise when it’s time to get up. The cat seems smugly satisfied, but her indignation is stirred when I don’t reward her wakeup call by immediately filling her bowl. That would result in an even earlier wakeup call tomorrow.

    Every morning, dark and cold though it may be, I step outside and look up at the sky to see what I’ve been missing. Maybe I’m tracking infinity through ritual, or maybe I’m simply checking in on the universe to let it know I’ve made it to another day, but the ritual feels natural, even if the night owls in my life believe it’s unnatural to rise before the sun. In my rush to slow down and take it all in, I wonder what I missed. At the moment, I’m missing sleep. Maybe tonight then?

    The cat isn’t the only restless soul stirring before 5 AM. Waking up restless is a sign that we dozed off with unfinished business on the mind. Just what quiet desperation is haunting me? I feel the urge to write until I find the words. Yes, there’s just so much to do and be and say. If only the words will come on this cold November morning.

  • Busy Got Me

    When I am among the trees,
    especially the willows and the honey locust,
    equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
    they give off such hints of gladness,
    I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
    I am so distant from the hope of myself,
    in which I have goodness, and discernment,
    and never hurry through the world
    but walk slowly, and bow often.
    Around me the trees stir in their leaves
    and call out, “Stay awhile.”
    The light flows from their branches.
    And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
    “and you too have come
    into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
    with light, and to shine.

    — Mary Oliver, When I Am Among the Trees

    Suddenly the leaves have returned to the earth. Tropical rain and gusty wind have done the job, and wet clumps of oak leaves blanket everything like a first snow. I shuffle through the fallen leaves knowing that I didn’t walk in the woods nearly enough this season. Busy got me once again.

    I too am so distant from the hope of myself when I get busy. Too busy for peak fitness or deep work or even to mop the kitchen floor. Too busy to reach out to someone who may need to talk—or maybe it was me that needed to talk. Those moments fall away like autumn leaves in a storm.

    Busy is a choice we make to subtract meaning from our lives for the belief that there is growth in hustle. There’s nothing wrong with filling our days with productive and meaningful work. Just don’t believe that busy is the same thing.

    The answer is to go easier along this path. To back away from the transactional life and choose a new direction while there’s still time. Like tea leaves, those wet leaves blanketing the ground have something to tell us. If not now, when? Don’t let busy rob you of all that is dear. All that is light. All that would fill our days if not for busy.

  • Let It Go

    “Let go, or be dragged.” — Zen proverb

    Each day we step out into the world offers ample opportunity to challenge our sense of what’s wrong and what’s right. We ought to fight for what is right, but be careful how many wrongs we wrap ourselves up in. We have a finite amount of time to spend and it’s slipping away even as we speak. Just how do we want to use this precious time before it’s gone forever?

    Counting blessings is far more enjoyable than counting grudges. That may seem naive in a complex world that wants all our attention, time and money, but what good is going to come from getting all spun up? Let it go, or be dragged down with it. Rise above it all instead.

  • Measured in Inches

    “Question yourself every day. Ask yourself: Who am I? What have I learned? What have I created? What forward progress have I made? Who have I helped? What am I doing to improve myself—today? To get better, faster, stronger, healthier, smarter?”
    ― Jocko Willink, Discipline Equals Freedom: Field Manual

    Nothing like a bit of Jocko to smack us back into focus now and then. But really, we ought to be accountable to ourselves every day without the assist. We are our own creation, like it or not, and who we are is based on how we react to the world when we wake up each day. Get up and get to work or stay under those comfy covers—the choice is ours.

    We’re two days from Halloween, and the sheer ubiquity of chocolate is testing my willpower. I’m a little too casual with the carbs lately too. As the weather gets cooler and the nights get longer, it’s easy to eat a bit more, sleep more, ride the couch with a snack and something to wash it down with. We are what we repeatedly do.

    Excellence, then, is a habit. It’s discipline and doing what we promised we’d do, again and again until we’ve done that thing. Sneaking Socrates quotes in is an old trick, and I know you’ve seen that one before. The point is, we can’t let up now when there’s so much more to be done. Shake it off and get to work already.

    “Nothing is going to change, unless someone does something soon.” — Dr. Seuss

    So do something. Now. Today anyway. Something that moves the chains towards the goal. Something that takes this inclination for comfort and ease and turns it into sweat equity. Discipline equals freedom from those pesky inclinations. Personal excellence, our old friend Arete, is not for the undisciplined excuse-makers. We inch towards our potential through self-accountability, rigid routines and hard work. Does that sound fun? No? That’s why it’s hard.

    The world already has plenty of people who don’t want to do much of anything. To have the audacity to dream of excellence requires more than big talk, we have to navigate the excuses that will inevitably get in the way with every step. But we know that, don’t we? So get to it already! Today is well underway, and tomorrow is too late. Progress is measured in inches, and so is comfort. The choice is ours.