Category: Lifestyle

  • Tradition (Happy Thanksgiving)

    “Tradition is the illusion of permanence.” — Woody Allen

    The fact that we’ve always done something a certain way doesn’t mean that thing ought to be done that way forever. Tradition is merely a form of habit, ritualized and accepted as the way. But life is change, and tradition is thus always in a fragile state. We all crave some measure of permanence and familiarity in a world that guarantees nothing. And so it takes people deliberately choosing to do something the same way again and again that makes a tradition stick. For Americans, the ultimate expression of tradition is Thanksgiving.

    For more than half my life I’ve been getting up early and prepping a bird for a mid-afternoon meal with family and friends. It’s a lovely tradition, but admittedly unusual. I mean, it’s right in the middle of the work week, we’re all spread out across the country now, and the whole thing is just so expensive in time and effort. And we love it so because we’re all together again, for no other reason than that we choose to be. And that’s cause for celebration.

    We know (or we must know) that time flies (tempus fugit) and we’re all quite fragile (memento mori), and any one of these Thanksgivings may be the last for us. The whole holiday is an acknowledgement that we made it to here, today, and mostly together despite all that is happening in the world, and we ought to celebrate our arrival here today with a traditional meal altered slightly for dietary considerations. Yes, life is change, and we are surely changed by this complicated business of living, but today we still have this wonderful tradition and each other. Happy Thanksgiving.

  • Saunter to the Craft

    “The really efficient laborer will be found not to crowd his day with work, but will saunter to his task surrounded by a wide halo of ease and leisure. There will be a wide margin for relaxation to his day. He is only earnest to secure the kernels of time, and does not exaggerate the value of the husk. Why should the hen set all day? She can lay but one egg, and besides she will not have picked up materials for a new one. Those who work much do not work hard.”
    — Henry David Thoreau, The Journal of Henry David Thoreau 1837 – 1861

    Thoreau was a famous saunterer, but he was also a prolific writer. Leisure, mediation, exercise and hard work all have their time. We know when we’ve reached balance and when we’ve stumbled off the line between chaos and order.

    It’s not just work, it’s inspired work that is the ultimate goal for all of us, and it’s out there waiting for us to grab hold of it and take it as far as we can. It’s just hidden amongst all the other tedious, uninspired labor that passes for work. We owe it to ourselves to do work that carries us towards personal excellence, whatever that is for us. Any work that isn’t bringing us somewhere is dragging us sideways down the cliff. We ought to choose our work accordingly.

    Efficiency is the trick. When we focus on the essential work in its time, not only do we get so much more done—it’s done so much better. Take writing for example; I can either turn off the world and write this blog post within this hour, or I can succumb to the distraction of the text messages buzzing me, wonder about the weather today, get up to feed the cats, check the news and watch some video on social media curated especially for me based on previous views. The hour will slip away in any case, but what will we show for it?

    The thing is, most of us love a job well done. We want to bring something meaningful to the world for our efforts, and not look back on the day like we laid an egg. In order to reach our potential, a bit of focused productivity goes a long way. Go ahead and saunter, but when we meet our task we must do it wholeheartedly, that we may rise to our potential. That isn’t tedium, it’s craftsmanship, and isn’t that a far more interesting expression of our time?

  • A Series of Projects

    If life is a series of projects in various stages of completion, then I’m in the midst of another stage of life. The problem with living in a home for a quarter century is that what was once new feels a bit dated. A series of projects ensue, the free moments fill up with tasks, and time seems to fly by in the seemingly never-ending pursuit of incremental improvement. Like Sisyphus with his rock, we finish one climb only to descend back to begin all over again.

    I thought we were done after the last project, but then the washing machine needed to be replaced and that started a series of observations from my bride about the things she hated about the laundry room. We’d modernized it during the pandemic, but had missed a few key things she wanted resolved. She knew just the person to talk to about it. You know the old expression, “Happy wife, happy life”? Some may view that with a negative connotation, but not me. If I can make my life partner happy by simply doing work I usually enjoy doing, then sign me up for the mission! Chasing happiness is folly, but it’s a dividend we find together on the journey to better.

    I know people who have never painted a room in their home, never mowed their own lawn or done fall cleanup, never done more than swap out a picture or two on the walls. I envy the free time they’ve carved out to pursue other things. Indeed, the tax on projects is time, and we all need to decide if that tax is worth paying. That time and the money used to complete every project could surely be going towards a trip or dinner out, couldn’t it?

    My response is that incremental improvement of the environment we spend all our time in makes our time in that environment incrementally better. Over time, project-by-project, we may create a place far beyond what we walked into on that day we first got the keys. The point of all these projects isn’t to get rid of the old, it’s continual transformation of dreams into reality. That is part of our overall pursuit of personal excellence (arete). That series of projects is a lifetime pursuit of our potential, expressed in the form of sawdust and paint.

  • A Sense of Our Season

    “The follies which a person regrets the most in his life, are those which he didn’t commit when he had an opportunity.” — Helen Rowland

    What season are we in? I don’t mean autumn (as this is published), I mean what season of life are we in? There are things we regret not doing in each season of our life carrying us to here, and things we celebrate having done before that door closed forever. The trick is developing a sense of our season and learning to optimize wherever we are now.

    Lingering in the past is either a comforter that warms us or an albatross weighing us down. Either way, it’s not serving us today. We may know that our past decisions created who we are now, whatever that looks like for us, but it only influences tomorrow to the extent that we keep holding on to whatever we’re carrying. Previous choices are merely lessons learned that must be invested in our decisions going forward. Just learn the most important lesson: don’t make the same mistakes over and over again.

    I’ve reached a point where I don’t want to carry the weight of what a younger version of me didn’t do once in another season and instead focus on doing what I can do in the now. For me, comfortable routines were always the whisper of what felt like reason holding me back from adventures I might have taken. Knowing that tendency within me, I simply ask myself whether the next step is towards comfort or adventure, and which will I regret not taking one day in my future? What’s the worst that can happen? It’s usually not all that bad, and probably not as bad as carrying regret for the rest of our days.

    The currency of our lives are time, wealth and health, and we spend what we have in each season. Saving for the future makes some sense (we all like having a nest egg), but some currency can never be used in future seasons and can’t be wasted by not spending it now. Health is a good example of that. A younger, more fit version of me toyed with the idea of running a marathon. Those days are long gone now. Will I regret not having run one on my deathbed? Probably not, but the fact is I missed my chance.

    We may never have just the right amount of health, wealth and time, but we may have just enough of each to do something special with the season we’re in. And whatever that season is, we ought to do more with it, simply because we may not have the right ratio of currency in future seasons. And that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Do something special with this season before it’s gone, when all we’re left with are regrets.

  • Just the Right Blend

    “I have learned to live each day as it comes and not to borrow trouble by dreading tomorrow.” — Dorothy Dix

    I took a long walk in Manhattan yesterday. It’s all relative of course, but it felt pretty long towards the end of it. If I were on some country path with comfortable shoes I’d have just been warming up, but on concrete sidewalks swarming with people, while wearing dress shoes and a sport coat, a mile walk feels kinda long. I’ll surely need to take a true long walk when I get home just to make up for even admitting to that mile feeling uncomfortable, but all experiences are measured by the minutiae that built it.

    My underlying hope in navigating my series of nows is to find just the right blend of minutiae to make each moment sparkle. We’re building tomorrow’s memories with each today, aren’t we? What goes into today’s blend will fuel our future or set us back. We ought to discriminate on the little things that make now memorable.

    Sure, know the forecast when packing for our future, but don’t wring away the present in apprehension. We can’t borrow time, but we can waste it just as easily as we can optimize it. Those tomorrows will come either way, even if we aren’t guaranteed a starring role in the play. We must accept the fragility of now and offer it our very best, lest we squander it. Not every moment is perfect, we can’t expect that, but we can seek perfection anyway, and celebrate the higher standard we reach.

  • The Wealth of Without

    “We are not rich by what we possess but by what we can do without.” — Immanuel Kant

    We’re heading into the holidays, and holiday consumerism has replaced politics as the distraction du jour. We all know that it’s about to boil over into a frenzy. Honestly, I could do without all of it. Not because I don’t like new, shiny things, but because I want very much to simplify and focus on the abundance of beauty that is already in my life.

    Truth be told, I’ve already been on a spending spree the last few month in the form of the sometimes necessary “out with the old, in with the new” purchases to raise the overall quality of our lives. And I admit that spree has me inclined to reign it all in and reset back to more frugal ways to balance it all out. This is normal of course, all part of the ebb and flow of our financial life. The trick is to keep that balance. Stuff has a way of complicating our lives even as it solves some problem or other, doesn’t it?

    We had visiting friends stay with us for a week, a nice surprise for us and a reminder of what’s truly essential in a world where everyone wants their share of your time. A quiet conversation with friends doesn’t cost much more than the price of a beverage or two. Life without those who mean the most is impoverishment. True wealth is an abundance of equally-invested people in our lives with whom to share the journey.

    When we simplify our lives and focus on the essential, we grow richer in experience and overall happiness. We ought to stop being so busy accumulating distractions in our lives and look for a higher return on investment. To be present in the lives of those we care about the most offers tangible rewards when we spend those limited grains of sand. Shed the excessive and grow truly wealthy.

  • Working With It

    “Accept – then act. Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it. Always work with it, not against it.” — Eckhart Tolle

    I’m working through a blip in the old WordPress blog, dealing with changes I inflicted upon myself, not happy about that but accepting of the moment. life is change, and not all changes are welcome. Amor fati.

    We must work with what we’ve been given. Today I was given some never-ending tasks and a blog site that turned upside down. So it is. All that is to be done is to make the most of it, and here we are. Our only real choice in life is to carry on.

  • November Pivot

    “Carpe diem, quam minimum credula a postero (Seize the day, and put the least possible trust in tomorrow)” — Horace

    When the leaves are finally all down and the chores are largely done for fall cleanup, there’s a moment of stillness with which to process what’s transpired this year. What went right, what went wrong, and mostly when are we going to do that thing we said we were surely going to do this year since we didn’t do it last year or the years before that. November is a great time to assess and adjust those habits to do something more with today. Put another way, November is a time to pivot to better.

    Why November? Why not simply wait for the New Year? Well, we aren’t guaranteed tomorrow (See: Horace) and if we’re blessed with it, a little momentum rounding the calendar goes a long way. I can celebrate the consistent writing but recognize that it’s not enough, just as casually but consistently using the Duolingo app is helping me read French better but not to speak it or understand it when it’s being spoken to me rapid-fire, a habit (like writing) requires deeper immersion to get closer to mastery. We get what we put into it.

    By November we’ve accumulated a lot of positive or negative energy from our habits. What’s working well for us? What’s fallen off? With 45 potentially transformative days in front of us, beginning with this one, what can we still do with 2024 that we thought might be possible on New Years? What one habit will transform us the most if we were to master it? What one relationship might we strengthen or even salvage simply by reaching out to someone? What life changing step should be our next? We know the answer most of the time, or at least the direction to move in to find it. By all means, we must begin it today!

  • To Be More

    “Men must live and create. Live to the point of tears.” — Albert Camus

    To live and create, to the point of tears… How many of us read that and then settle back into old routines? It would be more prudent to stick with the familiar, to live a vanilla lifestyle, to do work that we’re comfortable with, and to stay in our circle of influence so we don’t upset the apple cart. There’s something to the tried and true, after all, for it brought us to this place.

    In the words of Marshall Goldsmith, “What got you here won’t get you there.” We’ve only got a few blessed days to work with, let us not dare waste this one on trivial pursuits. We may choose to be bold, and rise to meet the moments that unfold. For this, friend, is all there is.

    This isn’t a call for reckless living, consumerism or nihilism—just the opposite really. We must be bold, focused and purposeful with each moment, that we may optimize it. Optimization may sound very professional and career-focused, but can we not use the same standard on our days? We only have this one, why dare squander its potential? Carpe diem.

    With every deliberate act, we ought to consider how to amplify it more. Be more creative in our work, be more adventurous in our recreation, be more engaged in our relationships. It doesn’t take much more than choosing and following through. Momentum matters in all things: we may be more now, that we may build on that later. Live as if tomorrow depended on our actions today. We know it does.

  • Quiet Places

    We could all use a bit more quiet right about now. Whichever side of the cultural or political divide we fall on, it’s been a noisy, relentless year. If everything has its season, now seems a good time for some restorative quiet. Reaching quiet places is a journey with many possible routes. Which we take is less essential than the act of taking it.

    We don’t need money to find quiet, just a bit more social engineering and applied creativity. Removal from the noise is the obvious way—simply turn off the relentless media and walk away. A walk in the woods would be lovely, though orange is a must here in New Hampshire during hunting season. So maybe a walk on the beach would serve better for the next few weeks. However we find nature, it offers a whispered message that eternity doesn’t care a lick about our problems. Should we?

    I find the tactile more valuable than the electronic when seeking silence. Picking up a pen and scratching on a pad of paper can draw the noise right out of us and carry us to more enlightened places. Menial tasks like washing dishes or sweeping the floor may feel like chores when we begin, but carry us to quiet places as we work our way through the task.

    Ironically, sometimes the opposite of silence is just the answer. Lately I’ve returned to some music from my childhood that I’d pushed aside when a younger version of me thought it wasn’t cool enough. It’s probably still not cool enough, but neither am I, so who cares? I know all the words and that can be enough at this stage. Sometimes it’s not physical quiet at all, but internal quiet. Music drowns out the other noise around us and reminds us that some noise is joyful. That negative noise just gives up and floats away for a while.

    We aren’t monks or hermits, most of us anyway, and sequestering ourselves in quiet solitude isn’t a forever act, but a cyclical act of renewal. Just as the trees have shed their leaves and gone dormant, we need to give our minds the time to go dormant too. The noise level will inevitably rise again, but quiet has its place. Perhaps more than ever.