Category: Lifestyle

  • Paddling Our Own Canoe

    “As one goes through life, one learns that if you don’t paddle your own canoe, you don’t move.” — Katharine Hepburn

    “We are taught you must blame your father, your sisters, your brothers, the school, the teachers – but never blame yourself. It’s never your fault. But it’s always your fault, because if you wanted to change you’re the one who has got to change.” — Katharine Hepburn

    This is a powerful combination of punches landed by Hepburn, isn’t it? You can almost hear her voice speak as she points out what we all ought to hear now and then. Life is what we make of it, and the buck stops here. Simple, yet so many stew in the miserable broth of low agency salted in blaming others. Do we want to have a better life? Put down the blame salt. Begin by looking in the mirror.

    I’m looking out the window at freshly fallen snow. Just enough to coat everything, not enough to be particularly consumed with clearing it off the driveway. But I’ll likely clear it anyway. To be effective in our lives, we must face the world squarely as it presents itself to us and decide what to do, given the circumstances. Identity plays a part in this moment. When you identify yourself as someone who gets things done, you get the snow off the driveway. When you identify yourself as someone who delegates, you push the problem to others. Which is correct? It depends on the circumstances, of course, but in general subscribing to the paddling your own canoe philosophy does wonders for our quality of life.

    I know, I know: Time is money, and it’s not worth our precious time to do menial tasks that are better delegated to others. Maybe, if you’ve got the money and inclination, hiring a personal assistant, or a landscaper, a chef, or a maid is your answer so you aren’t squandering time on the trivial tasks. Maybe this helps you focus on the important task. But the underlying question must always be, to what end? What are we living for? Is chopping our own wood intrinsically valuable? Isn’t it? How about pushing a light coating of snow off the driveway? Just what is the stuff of life anyway?

    The answer is that the stuff of life is what we make it out to be. We derive meaning and purpose out of whatever the heck we choose to derive it from. For me, clearing a bit of snow off the driveway is a cheap form of meditation, a moderate form of exercise, and a chance to assess where I am in my life this crisp morning. I take stock of where I’ve done well, and where I’ve strayed off course in my objectives. This is where the shovel hits the road, if you will, and where I decide just what I’m going to be today so that I might get straight away to being it.

    Change begins with introspection in space. We must give ourselves the room to find the answers to our questions. And in the answer lies the action: Goals are broken down into projects, which in turn are broken down into tasks. Celebrate the tasks for the direction they carry you. This, friends, is paddling our own canoe.

  • Begin Today With the End in Mind

    Not every man knows what he shall sing at the end,
    Watching the pier as the ship sails away, or what it will seem like
    When he’s held by the sea’s roar, motionless, there at the end,
    Or what he shall hope for once it is clear that he’ll never go back.

    When the time has passed to prune the rose or caress the cat,
    When the sunset torching the lawn and the full moon icing it down
    No longer appear, not every man knows what he’ll discover instead.
    When the weight of the past leans against nothing, and the sky

    Is no more than remembered light, and the stories of cirrus
    And cumulus come to a close, and all the birds are suspended in flight,
    Not every man knows what is waiting for him, or what he shall sing
    When the ship he is on slips into darkness, there at the end.
    — Mark Strand, The End

    When you think about the little joys in life, what comes immediately to mind? Are those joys as vivid as Strand describes in The End? As a collector of sunsets and stories told in clouds, and an avid gardener who coexists with felines, I confess this poem resonated with me. Or maybe it’s just the stoic in me. For we must collect our joyful bits begins today, always with the end in mind.

    Surely, life isn’t all joyful bits. We know this all too well, don’t we? But as Viktor Frankl said reflecting on days much darker than most of us will face, we choose how to react to the stimulus we encounter. We are what we focus on next. We ought to acknowledge the darkness but celebrate the light. Be the mirror that reflects beauty and generosity back at the world. We might just illuminate the life of someone else floundering in the dark.

    Knowing we reach the end one day ought to compel us to do more with this day. Be active with the day we’ve got. See and be engaged in the scene. And dance until the end.

  • See the Signs and Know Their Meaning

    “Two students had studied for many years with a wise old master. One day the master said to them, “Students, the time has come for you to go out into the world. Your life there will be felicitous if you find in it all things shining.” The students left the master with a mixture of sadness and excitement, and each of them went a separate way. Many years later they met up by chance. They were happy to see one another again, and each was excited to learn how the other’s life had gone. Said the first to the second, glumly, “I have learned to see many shining things in the world, but alas I remain unhappy. For I also find many sad and disappointing things, and I feel I have failed to heed the master’s advice. Perhaps I will never be filled with happiness and joy, because I am simply unable to find all things shining.” Said the second to the first, radiant with happiness, “All things are not shining, but all the shining things are.” — Hubert Dreyfus, All Things Shining: Reading the Western Classics to Find Meaning in a Secular Age

    All Things Shining, linked above, is a heavy lift in places. When you wade deeply into western literature with a heavy emphasis on Homer, Dante, Jesus and Melville’s Moby Dick, you’re going for a deep dive. Nobody said delving into nihilism, polytheism, and monotheism would be a page turner. I’m the better for having read it, but earned the finish that I’ve just given you freely. For it ended with this delightful epilogue, casting a glow that lingers.

    We may live a life full of routine and tedium, nastiness and fear of the unknown. We may also live a full life overflowing with ritual and wonder, generosity and openness. The lens we view the world through matters greatly in determining how full this brief dance really is. Some of my closest acquaintances choose to complain about everything in their life. They aren’t leaving a trail of joy behind them. Other acquaintances are relentlessly optimistic about the world and their place in it. They lift the room with their presence. Surely, not everything is wonderful, but many things are. What do we focus on?

    These are the days you might fill with laughter until you break
    These days you might feel a shaft of light
    Make its way across your face
    And when you do you’ll know how it was meant to be
    See the signs and know their meaning
    It’s true
    You’ll know how it was meant to be
    Hear the signs and know they’re speaking to you, to you

    — 10,000 Maniacs, These Are Days

    These are days we’ll remember. Focusing on the joyful bits isn’t an escape from the harshness of the world, it’s an acknowledgement that there’s two sides to the coin in life. This isn’t putting our head in the sand, for joy coexists with sad and disappointing in this world. We can fixate on unrelenting misery and darkness, or flip the coin and give our attention to all the shining things in this lifetime. The choice has always been ours.

  • Raising Wonderful

    “Seems to me it ain’t the world that’s so bad but what we’re doing to it, and all I’m saying is: see what a wonderful world it would be if only we’d give it a chance. Love, baby – love. That’s the secret.” — Louis Armstrong

    I hear babies cry
    I watch them grow
    They’ll learn much more
    Than I’ll ever know
    And I think to myself
    What a wonderful world
    — Louis Armstrong, What a Wonderful World (Lyrics: Bob Thiele, George Douglas, George Weiss)

    This morning I dropped my daughter off at the airport. She’s back to California to build her dream out there. My son headed back even sooner, working the day after Thanksgiving and doing what must be done to make the most of his career. That’s what you do with dreams: you reach for them wherever they are and with all you have.

    And what of those who watch them go? We know the drill. This is what you do when you’re a parent. We raise them, love them and teach them about the world, and then let ’em fly on their own. Now and then they fly back for a few days and you see how much they’ve grown. With both of my children, I see young adults with the acumen do so much more with their chosen paths than I have with mine, and that pleases me.

    I have one ace up my sleeve, of course. I was half of the team that raised two great kids. That may not seem like a lot in this complicated world, but when we reach the end of the line and we consider the best things we’ve done in our lives, shouldn’t we lead with love? The question we ought to ask ourselves daily is, am I raising hell or raising wonderful? Raising hell may sound like fun, but it leaves a big mess that someone has to clean up. Raising wonderful pays love forward. If there’s one thing this world could use more of, it’s love, don’t you think?

  • The Point of Intersection

    “When two or more lines meet at a common point, they are known as intersecting lines. The point at which they cross each other is known as the point of intersection.” — Cuemath

    Do you believe in coincidence? Last week while driving north from New York I saw a billboard for Heaven’s Door American whiskey, which was co-created by Bob Dylan. Literally the next song on the radio was Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door, which was either algorithm trickery applied to SiriusXM for the benefit of the few drivers listening to that exact channel in that exact spot at that exact time, or more likely, coincidence. It was a notable (to me) moment on an otherwise normal drive.

    A few weeks back, while hiking in the White Mountains, I happened to look up at the exact moment the two sons of a close friend were descending from Mount Monroe. I recall seeing them out of the corner of my eye on the summit, but didn’t register that these were two people I knew quite well until I lingered a beat long enough chatting with another hiker to see them at that moment. This was our point of intersection on our individual trips around the sun.

    We all have these crossing points in our lives, running into someone we haven’t seen in years at a seemingly random place. We also have the just-misses, where we realize later that we were at the same place as someone else but never saw each other. Do we apply special meaning to one event, and another to the non-event? What do we make of coincidence when we bump into it?

    One way we might see it is to look at a trail map. Each trail eventually intersects with several others as it meanders on its way. Perhaps the individual trails bring you to entirely different places, but for that brief moment they’re the very same place on their point of intersection. Another step on either trail and that point is behind you, but if particularly notable we can still recall it for the rest of our hike. Meaning is derived not from the intersection but in what we feel about it in the moment.

    Each of us is charting our course through our individual lives, with a definite starting point and an uncertain end point. Our paths intersect at frequent or infrequent moments entirely based on fate. I once knew a married couple who met by chance as the future husband was moving a mattress and rested a beat longer than he might have on the sidewalk. The future wife made a comment and that point of intersection turned into the same path for the two of them. For them, that point of intersection became a starting point. I met that couple exactly once in my lifetime, and I don’t recall their names, only the story and one other thing: They were big Bob Dylan fans and even used one of his songs as their wedding song. I wonder what ever happened to them, but I bet I know what their favorite whiskey is.

  • Gratitude and Love

    “Cultivate the habit of being grateful for every good thing that comes to you, and to give thanks continuously. And because all things have contributed to your advancement, you should include all things in your gratitude.“ — Ralph Waldo Emerson

    We often forget how blessed we are. Counting blessings ought to be a daily activity. I suppose it is for some of us, while the rest of us are too busy juggling to linger with gratitude. Experts on such things as happiness suggest writing down what you’re grateful for at the end of each day. I’n not so bold as to call myself an expert on living happily, I just try to do it. It does seem logical that if we are what we focus on, focusing our attention on gratitude and the blessings in our lives surely seems more delightful than focusing on what’s missing. Acknowledge both; dwell in joy.

    Americans have this holiday of holidays: Thanksgiving. Some people aren’t really focused on thanks and gratitude on Thanksgiving, they’re just trying to pull of the logistics of the day. But this is the very best holiday of them all for many of us—not because of the day drinking and heaping plates of everything, but because we come together with the people we love the most. What’s lost on some Americans as we celebrate this coming together as family business is that much of the world does this gratitude and love thing every day of the year.

    Gratitude and love fill a void otherwise open to darker forces. Happy doesn’t need Thanksgiving, but giving thanks seems to lead towards happy. It’s a funny twist on words, I suppose, but also a more fulfilling way of living in this complicated and tragic world. A recipe for happiness, if you will. So whether you celebrate this particular holiday or not, we’re sending a nice helping of love, from our table to yours.

  • Attention is Vitality

    “Do stuff. be clenched, curious. Not waiting for inspiration’s shove or society’s kiss on your forehead. Pay attention. It’s all about paying attention. attention is vitality. It connects you with others. It makes you eager. stay eager.” ― Susan Sontag

    Please take a moment and re-read the quote above, but in the voice of a close friend or loved one who’s a bit exacerbated with you for not doing this the last time they reminded you to be more vigorous with this business of living. Vigorous in a “lust for life” way. Vigorous in a “decide what to be and go be it” way. What we pay attention to matters. We must choose to rise above mundane.

    Each of us is wrestling with something, likely amplified by the madness in the world these last several years. What drowns out that voice in the back of our head more than action? We all know the fable of the frog and boiling water (Put a frog in a pot of boiling water and it will leap out. Put that frog in cold water gradually heated and it will boil to death). The moral of the story seems obvious, but what are we currently boiling in ourselves?

    We must shake ourselves loose from the belief that we’re unable to change our circumstances. We must pay attention and get to the living part of our story. Get out of the damned pot! Be clenched! Be curious! Be eager!

  • Without Memory

    Mama says he can’t remember
    Daddy thinks that he still can
    I’m going back to see him
    While he still knows
    Who I am
    This time I’m gonna hug him
    Instead of just shaking hands
    Gonna tell him that I love him
    While he still knows
    Who I am
    — Kenny Chesney, While He Still Knows Who I Am

    There are moments when you hear a song on the radio and you want to pull over to listen to it in its entirety. That moment happened to me with this Chesney song as I was merging onto Interstate 95 between the George Washington Bridge and the Alexander Hamilton Bridge. In other words: not a place you want to pull over. But I multitasked my way through the song and Washington Heights safely anyway, thinking I’d have to listen again sometime soon. Technology puts songs at our fingertips nowadays, and so it would be.

    Having a father with dementia, the lyrics land as body blows. When you lose someone while they’re still with you, it’s a different kind of loss than the losing of someone who’s had their last heartbeat. I’ve lost two fathers in the last few years, one each way, and you feel the hurt uniquely for each. The one who was more present in my life feels like loss. The one that got away feels more like lost opportunity. Both have shaped me, both leave a void in their absence that has to be reconciled in unexpected moments like merging into traffic. Timing is everything in life.

    “Memory is our deepest actual language. It’s our storehouse of riches… and we need to keep it open, to keep in mind the importance of childhood events that will somehow condition our life and character… If we have no memory, we are nobody, and nothing is possible.” — José Saramago

    There are days when I wonder which way I’ll go myself. Will my body give out first, or my mind? We never want to be a burden on those we love in our final days, but we do want to linger with them as long as possible. It’s the saying goodbye part that we want the most in the end, even as we wish with all our heart that it wouldn’t end. Having seen people leave this world both ways, I think I’d rather have my body give out first. At least I might write and say a few things until the end. At the very least tell the people I love what the passwords are for all my accounts. Nobody likes loose ends. Dementia leaves a lot of loose ends.

    So we learn to hug the people we love in the moment instead of waiting. We eat our blueberries and leafy greens and stay hydrated hoping to stay healthy for as long as possible into our senior years. Vibrant physical and mental health become far more important when we see the alternative. We can’t always change the path we and our loved ones are on, but we can control how we react to it in this moment. I suppose that’s all we’ve ever had.

  • Opting for a Colorful Plate

    “The food you eat can be either the safest and most powerful form of medicine or the slowest form of poison.” ― Ann Wigmore

    A coworker recently brought up his frustration with the the “plateful of brown” options available for breakfast at a typical American hotel chain: eggs, bacon, sausage links, bread, potatoes or hash browns, coffee. If you’re lucky enough to have fruit options it’s usually bananas and pineapple or melon. Maybe some yogurt. In other words, a whole lotta brown.

    There’s a rule of thumb that we ought to include as many colors in our food as we can. A plate loaded full of brown foods isn’t especially good for you, and may indeed be a slow form of poison. If we are what we eat, why are we opting for processed junk and the same old same old? Add color! Add variety! Add flavor!

    Looking at the travel menu for dinners, there’s a lot of brown there too: pasta and bread, steak, chicken, rice and all sorts of not very colorful food. It doesn’t have to be this way. We can do as the Europeans do and swirl in a healthy mix of green, red, orange and yellow and feel more vibrant after eating. Or stick with browns and feel bloated and tired after eating. The choice is ours, one meal at a time. We ought to choose wisely. Choose deliciously. Choose colorfully.

  • Yes and No

    “It’s worth making time to find the things that really stir your soul. That’s what makes you really feel alive. You have to say ‘no’ to other things you’re used to, and do it with all your heart.“ — Roy T. Bennett

    Checking out the float plan for friends Fayaway as they resume their journey to the Caribbean, it’s easy to see the navigation points clearly charted. The trick is to stick to plan as the unexpected forces of wind, weather, current and fatigue influence that course over time. We can’t predict everything, we can only choose the course and decide when to take a leap into the unknown. Every day brings subsequent decisions that carry us to the next. So it is with life.

    It’s easy to see the series of decisions that brought us to where we are in hindsight. It’s more challenging to plot our course through life uncertain of the forces that will influence that course. Life is what we make of it, a series of yeses and no’s from start to finish. Sometimes what we’re most comfortable with needs to be a no to make progress. Staying in the cozy harbors of our life may feel like a yes when it ought to be a no.

    What we say yes to today will matter in our tomorrow. But so too does what we say no to. The future will judge what the right choice was. We can’t be paralyzed in indecision in such moments, we must decide what to be and go be it. As a rule, it’s probably best to say no to recklessness, and yes to moving away from comfort towards progress. Bon voyage.