Category: Lifestyle

  • To Rest

    “The template of natural exchange is the breath, the autonomic giving and receiving that forms the basis and the measure of life itself. We are rested when we are a living exchange between what lies inside and what lies outside, when we are an intriguing conversation between the potential that lies in our imagination and the possibilities for making that internal image real in the world; we are rested when we let things alone and let ourselves alone, to do what we do best, breathe as the body intended us to breathe, to walk as we were meant to walk, to live with the rhythm of a house and a home, giving and taking through cooking and cleaning. When we give and take in an easy foundational way we are closest to the authentic self, and closest to that self when we are most rested. To rest is not self-indulgent, to rest is to prepare to give the best of ourselves, and to perhaps, most importantly, arrive at a place where we are able to understand what we have already been given.” — David Whyte, Rest

    Some weeks are busier than others. Some are more restful than others too. This past week was more the former than the latter. In the natural ebb and flow of life, I enter the weekend focused on rest and recovery. Perhaps I’ll find it, but then again, I’m back to writing before the dawn.

    Many Americans aren’t particularly good at rest. We charge along, even on our days off, trying to make the most of our time. We forget sometimes the exchange, as Whyte so eloquently reveals: to rest is to prepare to give the best of ourselves. Rest is not self-indulgent, yet we so often believe it to be so.

    To view rest as a natural exchange is to acknowledge that the work will come again, but not just yet. There is a time for everything, including rest. The work will surely be there when we return to it. So if you begin to wonder what I’m up to loafing around so much, remember that I’m not being lazy today: I’m preparing.

  • The Gospel According to This Moment

    “Above all, we cannot afford not to live in the present. He is blessed over all mortals who loses no moment of the passing life in remembering the past. Unless our philosophy hears the cock crow in every barnyard within our horizon, it is belated. That sound commonly reminds us that we are growing rusty and antique in our employments and habits of thoughts. His philosophy comes down to a more recent time than ours. There is something suggested by it that is a newer testament,—the gospel according to this moment. He has not fallen astern; he has got up early and kept up early, and to be where he is is to be in season, in the foremost rank of time.”
    — Henry Miller, The Colossus of Maroussi

    Today’s post, later than the norm, is indicative of a busy life. The writing happens when it may happen, and is published shortly thereafter. The only thing I can control is my commitment to the process. A great but full day is no excuse not to check the box, and I’m particularly happy to share this quote from Henry Miller.

    In weeks like this, when it feels like I’m rushing literally everywhere all day long and something as quaint as posting a daily blog feels like just one more burden, I pull back and remember why I’m doing this at all. These are my breadcrumbs as I become whatever I will be in this lifetime. Surely some are spaced more tightly together than others as you see familiar themes pop up again and again, but it’s been a journey nonetheless.

  • On the Tail End

    I was thinking about my adult children through the lens of Tim Urban’s famous blog post, The Tail End. It reminded me that I’m on the flip side of his statement about his parents. Now I’m the parent with kids that live away from home. In many ways I’m on the tail end of my relationship with them (having already spent 90% of the time I’ll have with them in our lifetimes together). Nothing focuses the mind on the most important things in life than realizing you’re in the waning moments of any one of those important things. Sure, we may have another 40 years or more together, or we may have run our course already, we’re never really sure are we? So embrace it, and them, when you’re together.

    That got me thinking about some close friends. A couple of them will be sailing away again later this year for an extended adventure to faraway places. Sure, we’ll visit them in a few of those places, but it’s not like we’ll be seeing them every weekend then. Another couple of friends hike every weekend and invite me to tag along, which I rarely do nowadays. This has led to an absence similar to if they’d sailed away like those other friends. Life calls us where it will and perhaps we’ll see them again one day, but that tail end seems apparent.

    When you build a career in one industry, you build a network of people whom you come to rely on to always have your back, to always be present. Change industries and see how quickly those relationships disappear. It’s a lot like college or growing up in a certain neighborhood. Most relationships are built on convenience. Few survive the removal of that convenience of proximity when it’s gone. Sure, there may be a Christmas card every year, or a social media “like” as we keep track each other, but are these the same?

    The point of all this, as Urban himself suggested, is to be fully present in those moments together, for we never really know how many we’ll have. To be aware is the greatest gift we can give to those we care about, whether we’re at the start of something beautiful or in the waning moments of our time together. Put the phone down. Listen and speak with the perspective of having heard. Be here, now. For it’s all we really have together.

  • The Twenty-Year Filter

    “Our culture has engaged in a Faustian bargain in which we trade our genius and artistry for stability.” — Seth Godin, Graceful

    Some risk is necessary for true reward. This we know to be true. But we also know that there’s reward in being firmly anchored to something of substance when it gets a bit stormy. The trick is to know when to leave the safe harbor and when to stay put. As with everything, life is a balancing act skating the line between order and chaos.

    “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines! Sail away from safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover!” — Attributed to, but definitely NOT Mark Twain, rather a quote from H. Jackson Brown

    The twenty-year filter is a helpful way to approach decision-making: Will staying in the safe harbor be something I regret in twenty years or ensure I make it another day on my journey to twenty years? Will this work mean anything in twenty years? Will I be healthy enough to do this thing I want to do now in twenty years? Will there be any glaciers to hike in twenty years? And so on. Each question posed reveals a truth to us that guides us. Often the answer is, “Don’t wait!” Sometimes the answer is, “Not this”. And sometimes that answer is, “Not yet”.

    When we can see the forest for the trees, we gain perspective, insight and a proper sense of direction. Twenty years is about a quarter of a lifetime, if we’re lucky, and gives us a big enough runway to take off for wherever we want to go. In twenty years one can raise a couple of infants to adulthood, build sustained career momentum through a collected network of trusted business associates, pick up an advanced degree or gain mastery in a desired skill. Or we can fritter it away on the trivial and inconsequential. It’s a good round number that is useful in so many ways.

    When I look back on the last twenty years, I’m stunned by how quickly it flew by, but also thrilled with the better decisions I’ve made in that time. The poor decisions weigh on me too, but when we live a life of personal integrity and accountability, the good often outweighs the bad. Those good decisions were often unconsciously made with a long-term view, the bad with a distinctly short-term view. Putting a spotlight on this process with a twenty-year filter often makes our choice even more obvious. What exactly are we trading off later for this choice now?

  • A Workhorse or Show Pony?

    There’s an old expression, more a question of character, that floats around in the workplace. Simply put, when we talk of employees, are they workhorses or show ponies? Some people shun the spotlight, grind away at the work that must be done and move on to the next project when it’s complete. Some people avoid the tough work but appear busy, and look for the spotlight and the opportunity to shine. The inference, naturally, is to be the workhorse.

    I’ve been the workhorse in my professional life and in my pursuits outside of work. Some days I’d rather be with the ponies prancing around in the green grass, doing nothing much at all. Wouldn’t that be nice? Why must we always be the workhorse? Because who really wants to hang around with show ponies all day? What kind of life is that, friend? A life of posturing and surface-level conversations, lackluster commitment to anything substantive, quick abandonment when fashion changes. Show ponies live a life of bullshit and betrayal. In that world, if you aren’t in the spotlight you’re in the shadow.

    We see examples all around us. I watch a couple of YouTube channels for entertainment. I’ve noticed that some shows start off as one or two workhorses doing what they can to keep afloat. Tough projects are shown, not to celebrate the workhorse nature of the horses, but to show how they did it (with the underlying message being; maybe you can too). The best of these channels retain this spirit, but most spiral into the YouTube formula of chasing subscribers and patreons to fund their adventures. Simply put: most turn into show ponies.

    Did you watch the United States’ State of the Union last week? A room full of show ponies posing as workhorses. Want to make progress in a world full of complicated problems? Elect more workhorses. The problem is that most workhorses don’t want the spotlight, and some turn into show ponies when they find they like the spotlight a little too much. The upcoming election will have a workhorse against a show pony. Deep down we know which is which, and our future is literally at stake based on which horse wins the race.

    The question is, what are we? We can be both at different times in our lives. I was a workhorse for part of the weekend doing projects around the yard. When I’m presenting in front of a room full of people I turn into a show pony, making the most of the spotlight while I’m in it. In between we settle into a routine that reveals who we really are. Anyone can be a workhorse or a show pony, it’s all conditioning and reward. So as we begin another day, isn’t it fair to ask ourselves, “just who do we want to be in this world today?” The world answers, “what do you think we need more of right now?”

  • A Great Day Not to be Dead (With the Egopantis and Thee)

    I thought about my car crash and my close call
    I started getting sentimental
    I said, I love this house, I love you guys
    I even love my rusty old car outside
    And I’m so happy to be alive with you
    Let’s do all the things we always said that we would do
    ‘Cause it’s a great day
    It’s a great day
    It’s a great day
    It’s a great day
    And it’s a great day to not be dead
    — Don White, Great Day

    “The Bull Run has been a Tavern for centuries and was the first stop on the Boston-to-Albany Stagecoach route in the 1800s.” — History of the Bull Run Restaurant

    Mounted to the fireplace near the bar of The Bull Run is the head of a creature they call the egopantis. When you see it, you’ll never really forget it, mostly because your first and last reaction when seeing it is, “What the hell is that thing?” Could it be a bear or a buffalo with a distinctive facial birth defect? Or someone’s art project made eternal? The tall tales told by the establishment are enjoyable but only lead to more questions. The only certainty as we navigate fact and fiction in this complicated world is that most answers are a load of bull. So we’d clearly come to the right place.

    That we go through our lives with so few opportunities to see good friends over good food and fun live music is unfortunate. Life really should be a celebration; a forever birthday to mark the miracle of our dance through this time and place together. Life really is what we make of it. So we made our way to the quiet town of Shirley, Massachusetts for a night of live music with the beautiful comedic soul Don White. And we found some magic. Not just a strange bit of taxidermy on the wall magic, but the kind of magic that happens when you gather around a table with some of your favorite people in the world to enjoy some live music. We all remember the worst days of the pandemic when we’d wish for such moments to come back again. Here we are.

    A place as old as The Bull Run has seen a lot of characters come through its doors. A night out with Don White, the edopantis and thee was another layer on the life experience cake. We were simply the latest weary world travelers who stopped in for the night. We may not be able to get a room at the inn like we might have once upon a time, but we can surely have a memorable evening. Memories are what stay with us, after all, so let’s do all the things we always said that we would do. We are history makers one and all.

    Egopantis decked out for St. Patrick’s Day
  • For Discovery

    “We’ve been trained to believe that mediocre obedience is a genetic fact for most of the population, but it’s interesting to note that this trait doesn’t show up until after a few years of schooling.” — Seth Godin, Graceful

    “Fear of living without a map is the main reason people are so insistent that we tell them what to do.” — Seth Godin, Graceful

    A few days ago, Seth Godin offered up his e-book Graceful as a free download. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I downloaded it immediately and read it almost as quickly. It’s a short book jammed with little nuggets of gold like the quotes above. Seth’s best books and blog posts are tiny gems that punch above their weight. Something to aspire to as a writer—perhaps I’ll arrive there myself in a few thousand more blog posts.

    Many of us wing it in certain parts of our lives, but meticulously plan other parts. I write what flows through me when I sit down to write, but feed myself with a steady diet of reading material and life experience to widen the lens. The result is an often eclectic mix of topics that are most certainly not what some sign up for. But who wants to read or write about the same thing every day anyway? Art, learning and living a full life should be a meandering progression.

    There’s something overly formal about mapping out our experiences, but there’s value in the process. I have some travel coming up this spring that I’m particularly excited about. With every trip I take, I do a ton of research and planning to optimize my time in any given place. I leave some room for discovery, but in general I live my life in the fashion the lyrics of an old Seals and Croft song, “We May Never Pass This Way (Again)”. You don’t have to look up the lyrics: that’s it right there in the title. It’s the kind of ear worm song you curse for it’s persistence, but a good reminder to be fully aware in the moment.

    We don’t venture out into the world for predictable. We venture for discovery. When we leave the rigidity and structure of the classroom, we either spiral into indifference or grow into a fascination with the world and our place in it. To be lifetime students of living seems an aspiration worthy of our remaining time, don’t you think? Our growth depends on it.

  • Filling in Holes

    “The man who goes alone can start today; but he who travels with another must wait until that other is ready, and it may be a long time before they get off.” ― Henry David Thoreau

    They say a tired dog doesn’t dig, but I have a dog that never tires. This mild, wet winter has given her ample opportunity to perfect her digging technique. And so the next few days I’ll be spreading enough stone to pay for a trip to Paris. Mulching the beds with stone is meant to act as a natural deterrent for a wonderful (really) dog who wants to dig holes everywhere. It’s a way of telling her, “not here”. With time and some training, eventually she’ll grow out of these teenage years.

    We know when something has shifted within ourselves and it’s time for change. Do we leap at that moment, or live a life of quiet desperation? Thoreau famously suggested most of us do the latter. It’s famous because it resonated with the masses, who fail to act on the wisdom in the observation. We must have the agency to go. To do that we must have the courage to let go of the things that hold us in place.

    Easier said than done. That puppy who has brought so much joy into our lives is also an anchor to a lifestyle. Having the agency to go on a trip is one thing, but the more we layer into our lives the harder it is to simply walk away. Great lifestyle design means layering in the things we want most in our lives and eliminating the things that aren’t as important. The dog stays, and so the trip to Paris may be pushed out yet another year. We can’t have it all, but we can have the things we focus on the most.

    Don’t get me wrong—there will be plenty of travel to come this year, and with it arrangements for dog sitting and lawn mowing and all the things that come with balancing priorities. There’s a price tag for all of this, in time and money and the discipline to see it through. The payoff is a life far richer than it might have been otherwise. Filling in holes was the entire reason we got the dog in the first place.

  • Becoming That Which One Essentially Is

    “Nobody can enjoy the experience he desires until he is ready for it. People seldom mean what they say. Anyone who says he is burning to do something other than he is doing or to be somewhere else than he is is lying to himself. To desire is not merely to wish. To desire is to become that which one essentially is.” — Henry Miller, The Colossus of Maroussi

    I was talking to my bride about an upcoming trip friends are taking to a place I’ve wanted to go. We’re going to a few remarkable places ourselves this year and we can’t do everything, right?Sure: we can’t do everything… I can’t argue that I often say I want to go to many places, but there are precious few that haunt me in my dreams.

    To desire to see the world is common, but precious few actually seek out all of the places they want to go to. Those trips of a lifetime are called that because most people only take them once. It’s up to us to determine if that’s enough. My own time bucket for such travel is shockingly short, and so I feel I must go when the siren calls. We all know what those sirens were up to, don’t we? Calling us to the rocks. The only safe way out was to keep going.

    The person we are now is the person we’re ready to be. Who we aspire to be means nothing more than the direction in which it sends us. We are here because we were once called here, and we willingly made the journey. Sometimes we arrive at a place we love, sometimes we find that it’s not what we wanted at all. Who we become next is up to us—but we must keep moving.

    As James Clear said (and I’ve quoted countless times now): “Every action you take is a vote for the type of person you wish to become.” Knowing this, we simply begin moving deliberately in the direction we wish to go in. Our habits are the incremental steps towards becoming. It begins with desire and is realized through consistent action. Simple, yet so hard to grasp sometimes. Routine hides in plain sight, after all.

    The thing is, we seek so much more than to visit various places. It’s not the visit, it’s the transformation of the visitor. We are completing a puzzle who’s picture is our future self. But in this puzzle, we get to choose some of the pieces. And just when we look at ourselves in the mirror, the puzzle pieces get scrambled all over again. We can’t spend our lives wishing for tomorrow, but we can choose some of the pieces now that will make up who we’ll be then.

  • To Live Creatively

    “Many times, in writing I have looked over my own shoulder from beyond the grave, more alive to the reactions of those to come than to those of my contemporaries. A good part of my life has, in a way, been lived in the future. With regard to all that vitally concerns me I am really a dead man, alive only to a very few who, like myself, could not wait for the world to catch up with them. I do not say this out of pride or vanity, but with the humility not untouched with sadness. Sadness is perhaps hardly the right word either, since I neither regret the course I have followed nor desire things to be any different than they are. I know now what the world is like and knowing I accept it, both the good and the evil. To live creatively, I have discovered, means to live more and more unselfishly, to live more and more into the world, identifying oneself with it and thus influencing it at the core, so to speak. Art, like religion, it now seems to me, is only a preparation, an initiation into the way of life. The goal is liberation, freedom, which means assuming greater responsibility. To continue writing beyond the point of self-realization seems futile and arresting. The mastery of any form of expression should lead inevitably to the final expression—mastery of life. In this realm one is absolutely alone, face to face with the very elements of creation. It is an experiment whose outcome nobody can predict.” — Henry Miller, The Colossus of Maroussi

    Another long quote to start this blog, and surely the SEO needs improvement. So be it. I might have doubled the length for all Henry Miller had to say. In fact, stop reading my blog altogether and go pick up the book. We are the people he had in mind when he wrote these words. Can’t you see him looking over his shoulder at us? If Miller was looking to the future with hopefulness that the world would catch up to his way of thinking, well, he may have been sorely disappointed. We all shake our heads at the madness in the world, and the inclination to dumb it all down for the benefit of the power brokers with all the fancy toys. Some things never change.

    To tag along with Miller as he wanders around Greece on the cusp of World War II is fascinating for the historian in me, for we know how the story ends but not always how the world felt about it as things were playing out. Miller found his soul in Greece just before things got truly crazy. What of us?

    Some of us write to reach self-realization and rarely go beyond it to reach for mastery. I talk a good game myself, but my default is to quiet quit on mastery. It takes a level of discipline I’ve learned I don’t want to grind out of myself to be a master craftsman at anything. I can see it in the pursuits I’ve started and let die out. If the price is to exclude everything else to reach mastery, I’ve come to realize that I won’t pay that price. There are precious few who keep going, which is why there are so very few masters of any craft.

    But there’s hope. If the goal of life is Arete and reaching personal excellence, then the journey never truly ends. Perhaps writing for self-realization is part of the journey that eventually we break through to reach for something more. The only certainty is that the creative journey continues, and so long as the blog posts reach you, you’ll know that I’m still pushing through what Steven Pressfield called the Resistance to find out what’s on the other side.

    There’s a reckoning coming. When we keep pushing ahead it’s inevitable that we’ll face more and more resistance. For us to keep going with the work that calls to us is audacious, and some might say self-serving. This too is recognized as resistance. There comes a point in our lives where we tell our quiet-quitting self that the work means more now. We may still end this trivial pursuit and go on to some other distraction. Just not today.