Category: Lifestyle

  • A Day to Remember

    “I want to live happily in a world I don’t understand.” ― Nassim Nicholas Taleb, Antifragile: Things That Gain From Disorder

    Yesterday was surely a day to remember. Yes, there was that assassination attempt on a Presidential candidate (horrific, not shocking given the divisive climate), but honestly I didn’t even know about that until hours later. World-changing events happen whether we’re watching it unfold or not. The question is, what are we doing to create a positive ripple in our own pond? For me I’ll remember the day we brought our whole family together in one place after too long apart for a day of celebration.

    I’ll always remember January 6th, October 7th and September 11th for the events that unfolded on those days, just as we come to associate place names with other world-changing events: Tiananmen Square, the Pulse Nightclub, Pearl Harbor and on and on. Life on this pale blue planet is complex and often tragic (none of us gets out alive, after all), but we may control how we react to it, and mitigate the impact of some world events with our lifestyle choices. To be more antifragile should be a goal for each of us.

    The seismic political, social and environmental events unfolding in our world will always be there and can’t be ignored, but we may choose to stay far away the epicenter and focus instead on building something beautiful. We may be insular without being ignorant. The ripples will reach us as they always do in such events, but when we put ourselves to higher ground we aren’t completely washed over when black swan events happen.

    So what will we remember most today? It ought to be something deeply meaningful that we may influence in our own lives, not something out of our control. Make it a day to remember for all the right reasons. Our own positive ripple may counter the negative splash someone else is making.

  • Before the Noise

    Well, those drifters days are past me now
    I’ve got so much more to think about
    Deadlines and commitments
    What to leave in
    What to leave out
    — Bob Seger, Against the Wind

    Count me in as a proponent of productive mornings. I get far more done in the first three hours of the day than I do the rest of the day. We all have our time of peak energy and focus, and for me it’s between the moment I wake up and the moment the world throws its first curveball my way. Every day offers new twists and turns, and all we can truly count on is that short amount of time that is ours before the noise.

    Before is the trick, I think. Before everyone else’s agenda becomes ours. Before the distraction machine between our ears has robbed us of our focus and mental energy to do anything of consequence this day. Before is everything for the early bird.

    This post is out late because I prioritized a long mileage workout over writing. Normally I do it the other way around, but alas, the workouts don’t always survive intact after the noise. With deadlines and commitments, we’re always weighing what to leave in and what to leave out in our lives. A song like Against the Wind is more meaningful with a few miles on the soul than it was as a kid.

    Priorities change as we do. And we aren’t drifting at this point in our lives, are we? No, we’re living with purpose and trying to fit as much in as a day will give us. The lesson always seems to come back to starting early and not beating ourselves up for leaving a few things out.

  • Choices and Character

    “The content of your character is your choice. Day by day, what you choose, what you think and what you do is who you become.” ― Heraclitus

    “Good character is not formed in a week or a month. It is created little by little, day by day. Protracted and patient effort is needed to develop good character.” — Heraclitus

    A good day to double down on the Heraclitus quotes. It’s raining out, the planned heavy mileage morning washed aside in a wave of rain water and that extra mai tai last night. A setback is not a trend, but it can be the start of one if we let it go unchecked. The influence of friends and circumstance can sway us from our key objectives if we don’t stay focused on who we are meant to be.

    This is where that protracted and patient effort comes into play. What is our system for resetting ourselves on the task at hand? Systems are our big picture, identity-based habits are the daily reckoning. We are what we repeatedly do, nothing more and nothing less. If those systems and habits are negative, we’ll repeat the same mistakes over and over, if they’re positive and productive, we’ll quickly right the ship and get back on course.

    The best way I’ve found to stay on course for the long haul is to ask myself every morning, who is the character I wish to become? Which leads to the secondary question, what do I need to do today to lead me there? And then it’s simply doing it. Diversions off the path happen to all of us in our long march to what’s next, that doesn’t make it who we are or will become so long as we steer our choices back to character.

  • Building Blocks

    “Life’s like a movie, write your own ending. Keep believing, keep pretending.” ― Jim Henson

    I’m thinking a lot about blocks lately. Probably because I’ve encountered a few more than usual recently in my life. Nothing extraordinary, just life’s jumble of obstacles stacking up between where I am and where I’d like to be. Still, they’re clearly blocks to be dealt with.

    Writer’s block doesn’t just get in the way of writers and poets, it gets in the way of anyone trying to break away from the path more traveled on. Life can be a trap, setting us in the role we’ve become accustomed to and not letting us go off and do the crazy things we dreamed once of doing. At least that’s the way the block forms in our mind. The trick is to see this for what it is and just keep on writing the chapter we want for ourselves despite that internal dialogue.

    Blocks are best used as sprinters use them—as something solid from which to launch ourselves into full speed without slipping backwards. A sprinter has no momentum yet, and the block becomes a fixed point from which to begin again. Reinventing the blocks in our life to become something useful seems a better way to live a creative life. Thinking of blocks as something to launch from, or something to build upon, transforms the block from a barrier to our success to a key element of it.

    The thing is, we must continue to be provocative in our lives. Push boundaries beyond comfortable and see what a bit of discomfort does for our story. Every hero’s journey has blocks along the way, and so too must our journey. Each offers something to build on to reach our happily ever after.

  • Life’s Good Runs

    “Life is like skiing. Just like skiing, the goal is not to get to the bottom of the hill. It’s to have a bunch of good runs before the sun sets.” — Seth Godin

    We each go through distinct seasons in our lives, not just age-based but in what we are focused on. We look back on them fondly or maybe not so fondly, but we can see exactly who we were at the time and know it brought us to who we are today. School days, sports played, people encountered and cherished for awhile, books read and discussed, career rungs climbed, places visited that seep into our souls—these are all good runs that we remember for the rest of our days. A lifetime may itself be a good run, made up of a series of other runs played by the distinct characters we were at the time.

    I still identify as a rower even though my rowing days on water are far in my past. Millions of meters on a machine in my basement aren’t quite the same, but the feeling of the catch made perfectly resonates across time and place. How many great catches did I have? Who’s to say but we know one when we feel it. Either way, that stroke ends and we recover for the next. Like skiing and life phases the goal is to put together as many good ones as you can in the time allotted.

    At the moment, I’m on quite a run of blog posts, but just last week I was wondering if this particular run was over for me. Not quite yet, but we’ll see how life unfolds. We each have good days and bad days, and with each morning a chance to begin anew. There’s a certain thrill in publishing something just when I thought I’d had enough to say and found some new plot twist to unpack.

    We recognize when we’re in the midst of a good run, just as we feel when a good run is ending. We’ll look with trepidation at the next run wondering whether we’ll enjoy that part of the ride, knowing that there are some things we most definitely won’t enjoy at all. We can’t rush through the bad parts to get to the good parts to come any more than we can hold on to the good parts forever. Life unfolds and we adapt to it and grow. What comes next is important too, but let’s not forget the thrill of the run we’re currently on.

  • To Live Is to Fly

    To live is to fly low and high
    so shake the dust off of your wings
    and the sleep out of your eyes

    — Cowboy Junkies, To Live Is to Fly

    I think that maybe stagnation is our greatest adversary. It kills any momentum in our lives and hastens our demise. We must move while we can. Stillness will claim us one day soon, but not just yet.

    Yes, I think that movement is the key. We must keep moving to fully live. Even trees, forever rooted to place, are constantly reaching up and outward to embrace the light, and dance in the breeze together. So it is with us, even when rooted, we must keep moving.

    Yesterday I rolled out the bicycle for a long ride along a rail trail. Cycling is the low form of flying, but a delightful way to traverse time and place. I wondered, why don’t I ride more often? No answer was apparent, just a resolution to take flight again soon. Life is a series of self-discoveries with the occasional memory jog reminding us that there are moments from our past worthy of a moment of reacquaintance. A bicycle deserves a better fate than to hang forever in a garage gathering dust. So too do we.

    What else is gathering dust, awaiting our return? Hiking boots? Books? Passports? First drafts? What might we put into motion again, that it may take off full of life? We must shake the dust off and flap these wings. To live is to fly, low and high.

  • Something New

    Above the mountains
    the geese turn into
    the light again

    Painting their
    black silhouettes
    on an open sky.

    Sometimes everything
    has to be
    inscribed across
    the heavens

    so you can find
    the one line
    already written
    inside you.

    Sometimes it takes
    a great sky
    to find that


    first, bright
    and indescribable
    wedge of freedom
    in your own heart.

    Sometimes with
    the bones of the black
    sticks left when the fire
    has gone out

    someone has written
    something new
    in the ashes of your life.

    You are not leaving.
    Even as the light fades quickly now,
    you are arriving

    — David Whyte, The Journey

    On the 4th of July I walked out onto the deck, stepped down the first stair and noticed a sag in the decking. You know exactly what the story is in such moments, the question was the extent of wood rot in the joists under the decking. It turned out to be not all that much and a quick trip to the home improvement box store for some new pressure treated lumber solved the issue. Time had crept up on the joist, which I distinctly remember building beyond the code at the time. Time is indifferent to such things.

    Life is change. We know this. Sometimes the change is more apparent than at other times. Sometimes it’s thrust upon us by circumstance, sometimes it creeps over us so slowly that we don’t notice it until we look around and everything is different. We may choose how to react in such moments, but we may agree it’s far better to be surfing the edge of the wave than washed over by it.

    The thing is, walking down that step on that day felt different already. Because I’m different, and the people who have used those steps are all different too. Too many have moved on forever. We may mourn the passing of time and the changes it brings or work our way up to the edge and surf it. We choose how we react to the changes in our lives. Something new may be debilitating or exhilarating, depending on how we interact with the wave. Be inclined to embrace the thrill of change for the duration, for it’s rolling either way.

  • The Worthwhile Endeavors

    “Optimism makes you less likely to walk away while not actually increasing your chances of success. That means that being overly optimistic will make you stick to things longer that aren’t worthwhile. Better to be well calibrated. Life’s too short to spend your time on opportunities that are no longer worthwhile.” — Annie Duke, Quit: The Power of Knowing When to Walk Away

    In all honesty, last night I was planning to make this my last blog post. To end with a bang on the 4th of July seemed poetic. I’ve thought this before, but talked myself into sticking with it for a round number or a date with particular meaning for me. The 4th has particular meaning for me and so it felt appropriate to roll out the Annie Duke quote and wrap this thing up.

    Naturally, this is why I write in the morning, with a fresh mind not yet beaten down by the realities of the world. This is why I read poetry and listen to music with the ear of a philosopher. This is why I travel to places that leave me gobsmacked. And this is why I favor quiet conversation with the smallest of circles, that we may each be heard. The well was empty last night, it’s not quite so this morning.

    No, I’m not ready to stop writing just yet. But the thought was a red flag for me that I must pursue other worthwhile endeavors to ignite the kindling before it floats away in the winds of time. There’s a whole world out there awaiting our graceful experience with it. So frequently asking ourselves whether we should stick with things opens up the possibility that maybe we shouldn’t. Recalibrate. And in the absence of obligation to that thing other opportunities may open up before us.

  • Green Grass and Long Conversation

    There’s an old response to the expression “the grass is greener on the other side” that points out that “the grass is greener where you water it.” Being a collector of quotes and poetry, the expression seems to pop in my feed now and then. Today was one of those days, and just before I started to write this blog post. Apparently the student was ready to see it again.

    I begin most summer mornings with a plunge into the pool and a cup of coffee in an Adirondack chair. I know this is a luxury of circumstance and celebrate it for the blessing it is. But I also know that a lot of watering went into this particular grass. To be born at the right time and place is a gift, to use that time and place in such a way that your life is incrementally better each year is a plan well-executed, with a nod to luck and fate for the blessing they’ve bestowed. But it’s simply my moment with these things, nothing more. We must remember that for all it represents.

    Yesterday I took a long walk with my bride and our pup through old neighborhoods she grew up in. The entire four miles was a walking conversation about what was, what is, and what will be. This year marks three decades of such conversations, and we’ve noted the changes in ourselves as much as the people and things around us. Life is change and a bit of selective watering, that we may enjoy our moment in the sun a little more before it’s time to concede it to the next. Memento mori and carpe diem, friends.

    Sitting in that chair, the air a bit cool, I watched the steam drift out of the mug and drift up into the morning sunbeam over my shoulder. The water vapors caught the sunbeam just right and sparkled like fireworks before drifting away to infinity. The days are already getting shorter even as the peak of summer is ahead of us. We may know the fragility of the moment and still look ahead with anticipation. A beautiful life is built on the things that are most fragile, like time and seasons and the people who grace us with this dance.

  • The Immediate Concern

    “A bad goal makes you say, ‘I want to do that some day.’ A great goal makes you take action immediately.” ― Derek Sivers

    I type this a little sore. All over sore, the kind that makes you move a little slower and assess your choices in life. Still, it’s a good sore of layered exercise expressing change in the body. We all ought to embrace such positive change in our lives. At least that’s what I’m telling myself, knowing I have work to do today to keep that momentum going in the right direction. And so I appreciate what Sivers is talking about when he assesses a good goal.

    The immediate concern is sustaining positive momentum towards the goal of completing a lot of mileage in a relatively short amount of time. To average 6.5 miles a day is a reckless goal at this stage of my professional life, but calculated to force me to row more often. I’m already feeling the effects of this, and I’m energized by the goal despite the fatigue it brings to me. We are made to move, not just sit staring at a variety of screens all day.

    When the summer is over, I’ll have kept my commitment to myself by keeping the goal alive to completion. Plenty of other things will keep me busy in that timeframe, but some things will be sacrificed for the greater good of finishing the goal. Life is full of tradeoffs, isn’t it? Why trade a good fitness level for comfortable distraction?

    At this very moment there’s a creeping urgency to stop writing about it and get back to stacking miles on top of what’s already been done. What doesn’t get done in July will have to be done in August, and frankly, I’ve got enough on my plate already in August. Great goals make you question your sanity while you’re making them come true. And yet, it makes you feel more alive than a less worthy goal ever would. It’s literally putting bold words into action. What’s more transformative than that?