Category: Lifestyle

  • By These Hands

    The gobs of wet leaves and pine straw pulled with bare hands from the gutter weren’t posted on YouTube for the world to see. Nor were the pulled fence posts as they were chipped free of old concrete footings. The world will never wonder at the labor put into such things by these hands. My labor remains undocumented.

    The same fingers that write these jumbles of words once laid brick on a curving walkway only to pull it up two decades later to reset a stubborn gate heaved by frost and refusing to close. This is the price of time in one place, you find yourself undoing what you’ve done before over and over again. It’s the labor of living, and like generations before mine the work goes largely unnoticed by most. Like an Offensive Lineman, you understand that if your work is noticed it wasn’t done correctly. But you know when it’s done well and when it isn’t.

    Labor is done for profit, and it reveals itself in moments. Each time I open the gate without having to kick the bottom corner, I’ll celebrate the sweat and strain of a Sunday in August when the work was done. Each time it rains I’ll celebrate the sound of water running through the downspout and not up and over the top of the gutter. These observations aren’t celebrated in the same way as seeing the Grand Canyon or St. Basil’s Cathedral or the Tower of London for the first time, because they’re mundane. But when you’ve fixed something that needed fixing and see it work, none of those other places matter a lick in that particular moment.

    I know plenty of people who hire others to do their labor for them. I understand this particular inclination, for paying others buys you time for yourself. Time spent on yard work is time not spent on a mountain summit or a beach on these briefest of days we call summer. But I know deep down that the work done by these hands reveals something in myself that I’d never find if I left the work to others.

    There are lessons in the labor, residing deep inside of me, that others may not see. Lessons that open up for you like a swinging gate free of obstruction. Flow through you like water through a downspout. When you do the work, even when it might all be undone once again someday, you understand that our brief, fleeting lives only have meaning in these mundane contributions we make. Even if it’s never seen on YouTube.

  • Get After It, Again and Again

    Lingering in the good soreness from a couple of days of long beach walks, I can’t help but wonder how fit I’d be if I walked the beach every morning before the sun rose. Then again, I think the same thing after a great hike, after consistently rowing anaerobic pieces, or doing intense weight circuits or swimming laps in salt water. Active is active, and the point of active is to do what you can where you are with what you have. Otherwise you’re inactive.

    So get after it. Carve out the time and do the work. This naturally goes for anything we pursue in life. Plodding along half-assed is a form of wasting space, and we aren’t here to waste space, are we? Sliding into comfortable complacency is just so… easy. But it doesn’t get us where we really want to go.

    “You can usually accomplish more by giving something your full effort for a few years rather than giving it a lukewarm effort for fifty years. Pick a priority for this season of your life and do it to the best of your ability.” – James Clear

    Beginning in early July I challenged myself to 20 days of rigid eating and exercise. It turned out I wasn’t so rigid with either, but still managed to lose 6 pounds and noted significant progress in kettle bell repetitions (my focus during this time period). It was just enough to make me want a little more. Really, a lot more. And so I begin again.

    Normally I’m an Olympics junkie, and love to watch athletes who put everything into their sport come together to compete. If I were broadcasting the Olympics, I’d be following athletes from different sports and different countries for years documenting the blood, sweat and tears as they grind away at it all. Then put together a montage of each, no matter how they finish in their events, through the closing ceremonies and then back home. Where they look around, smile and begin again. But broadcasters (and most people) celebrate the big moment, not the process that gets them there and beyond.

    The more trips around the sun I take, the more I see that life is about becoming, and it’s never fully realized. It’s celebrated in small moments of lingering soreness and beginning again the next day. We’re here to get after it to the best of our ability, to work towards that person we want to become. Beginning again and again.

  • Traveling Between Variants

    Traveling again opens up the world, and exploring new places for a few days in Miami leaves me ready for so much more. Miami has some of the best dining options anywhere, and also some of the worst drivers. I delighted in the best sushi I’ve ever had, while marveling at some of the most ill-advised driving decisions I’ve ever seen. Each destination offers its own unique reveals.

    You forget how much you learned to love the life of a nomad until you’re locked in place for a year. One business trip and it all washes over you again. The anticipation and cadence of a meeting, the shift from one hotel to another as you change cities, overcoming language barriers, and the food versus fuel debate in your head as you scan unfamiliar menus. It’s all part of the life of a traveler, and you count your blessings when you can travel again.

    And yet this business of fighting the virus and its variants isn’t quite over yet. There’s an underlying unease about the virus amongst the thoughtful, and a heightened awareness of crowded spaces. Eating out in a place like Miami involves many crowded spaces. You hear of Australia locking down and patrolling streets and contrast it with the freedom of movement and the casual closeness in packed spaces in Florida. Who is right?

    We may move closer to normal, but the generational impact of the pandemic on the collective psyche of humanity will be felt for our lifetimes. When you travel again you immediately see the world differently than those who are still sheltering, because you have to. The world is moving on even as the virus is doubling down, and you’re either casual with your personal health and responsibility to others or you’re not. I’m surfing the edge and I know it, but the thrill of travel fills me up anyway.

    Travel by its nature requires a leap of faith and calculated risk. If you have the freedom to travel, then do so responsibly. That begins with getting vaccinated and practicing good hygiene. Risk is never eliminated in life, but it can be mitigated. Because getting back out there illuminates this beautiful gift of living, and it would be great for everyone to get back to the brighter days.

  • Each Precious Moment

    “If you can be annihilated at any moment, then it’s each moment that’s precious. And if you don’t experience each moment, if you don’t understand how precious each moment is, then you are missing out. ‘cause that‘s all you can be sure of getting is right now.” – Sebastian Junger, from The Tim Ferriss Podcast

    I love Junger’s gruff quote above, for he bluntly points out what we all know and assume otherwise. This is all so very short, so enjoy each moment. Go out and find those micro adventures in between obligations. Say yes to the sunrise walks and the sunset celebrations and the meaningful conversations.

    For the second day in a row I was up at 5 AM and heading to the beach for a walk and sunrise. Distant lighting on the horizon was a spectacular pre-event. Feeling the warmth of the ocean in Miami as I walked the surf line helped lock in another memorable moment. These are the days you’ll remember, should you ever reach that future you.

    David Letterman asked Warren Zevon, in the last days of his life battling cancer, what he’d learned during the fight. Zevon’s answer was simple yet powerful: “Enjoy every sandwich”. And that’s what I thought to myself as I watched the sun rise up over the Atlantic Ocean. Just enjoy this precious moment. Experience it for what it is, and hope for another tomorrow.

    Miami Sunrise
  • Walk On Into Futurity

    “What is a course of history or philosophy, or poetry, no matter how well selected, or the best society, or the most admirable routine of life, compared with the discipline of looking always at what is to be seen? Will you be a reader, a student merely, or a seer? Read your fate, see what is before you, and walk on into futurity.” – Henry David Thoreau, Walden

    Well, which are you – a reader or a seer? Are you going to live vicariously through the adventures of others or seek your own way? There’s no time to ponder indefinitely, you must choose to live, and to walk boldly towards that future you. The world shrugs indifferently at the masses who live in quiet desperation, and opens up for those who dare to break free of the routine.

    Deferring life is a fool’s game, but most of us willingly play it. What meaningful leap will you take today towards that future you so desperately cling to? For if not now, when?

    Decide what to be and go be it.

  • Thinking How I’ll Feel When I Find…

    I deal in dreamers
    And telephone screamers
    Lately I wonder what I do it for
    If l had my way
    I’d just walk out those doors
    And wander
    Down the Champs Elysees
    Going cafe to cabaret
    Thinking how I’ll feel when I find
    That very good friend of mine
    I was a free man in Paris
    I felt unfettered and alive
    Nobody was calling me up for favors
    No one’s future to decide
    You know I’d go back there tomorrow
    But for the work I’ve taken on
    Stoking the star maker machinery
    Behind the popular song.
    – Joni Mitchell, Free Man In Paris

    I hear a big song like this one a bit differently today than I did as a kid. Then I just heard the bigness of the song, the sonic beauty akin to a wall of sound production. Joni at her highest point in her career with one of the great side ones (back when side one mattered a lot). Now my attention locks onto the freedom of going cafe to cabaret and running into friends along the way, which seems like a grand way to spin about in Paris. And so different from the day-to-day grind of making a living and seeing things through. And maybe that’s why it was so popular, more than the inside look at David Geffen from the perspective of one of his biggest stars and closest friends.

    At its root the song is a longing to break free from that daily grind, whatever ours happens to be, and to live that carefree life in lovely places. And that, friends, is the promised land. And doesn’t require a flight to Paris, as lovely as that might be for each of us. Being unfettered and alive is a state of mind achieved just as easily hiking the spine between bald mountain peaks or walking a quiet beach offseason as it is being part of the cafe and cabaret scene in the City of Lights.

    And the question is, how much is enough? When you’ve earned enough to not be homeless or hungry, what more do you need? The restlessness in this song is the thing that’s so identifiable for anyone who climbs those corporate rungs, thinking about how they’ll feel when they find… whatever it is they think is at that next level of accomplishment. That next status symbol that shows everyone that they’ve really arrived this time.

    Last year Geffen posted a controversial Instagram photo of his stunning yacht Rising Sun in the Grenadines with the sun setting behind as COVID raged and he “self-isolated”. You can see the beauty and smugness in that photo, all at once. As I understand it, that yacht takes 70,000 gallons of fuel and who knows how much in provisions. I wonder if he feels like he’s finally found whatever it was he was looking for?

    How much is enough? Most of us will never have a comparable yacht or a private island or a ticket on a luxurious flight into space with a billionaire. I’m not condemning those who chase for more, but I don’t particularly want that for myself. Because being unfettered and alive isn’t about accumulation or status, it’s about being happy with where you are and what you’re doing in this moment.

    Think how that might feel.

  • Breaking Garden (and Life) Rules

    I regularly break the accepted rules of gardening. Rules like putting the tall plants in the back of the garden. But when something like a balloon flower (Platycodon grandiflorus) or bee balm (Monarda) are shoved way to the back you lose something intimate that you gain when they’re right in your face. So my apologies to the garden rule enforcers. Surely you see my dilemma?

    I was offering advice to a former coworker who wants to quite her job and travel the world with her husband, but she feels stuck in the job, stuck in the life she’s wrapped herself in, and is only looking at the reasons why she can’t just do it instead of finding the reasons to just go for it. I dropped my favorite pair of Latin phrases on her to reflect on: Memento Mori and Carpe Diem (Remember we all must die, and seize the day!).

    Some rules are there for logical reasons; if the tall plants are up front you can’t see the shorter ones behind them. Makes sense. Some rules are there because we’ve all grown up believing stories: you have to get a job and work 50 weeks a year, then skip one of the two weeks of vacation and work on weekends to stay ahead. Who made that rule? Someone who wants to profit on your short productive years before they turn you to dust and plan you out for someone else.

    Make your own rules. Rules like walking out in the middle of a work day and seeing how the flowers are doing, just because you feel like it. Putting yourself out there in the world, to meet it on your terms. And maybe find something of yourself that was hidden when it was shoved to the back by someone else’s rules.

    Balloon Flower
  • A Measure of Contentment

    How difficult
    it is to die
    from my
    disbelief
    and kneel
    down
    to the truer
    underlying
    font of happiness
    waiting to
    break
    the enclosing
    surface,
    to believe
    in my body that
    I deserve
    the full spacious
    sense of
    not being
    thirsty anymore,
    of living
    a present
    contentment.
    – David Whyte, Newly Married

    The realization of not being thirsty anymore, of being content with the life you’re living and all that it means; the relationship you’re in, the place you live, the work you do, the mark you’ve made, the places you’ve gone to and returned from, and the fitness level you’ve achieved, this is the promised land of contentment. I look at that list in the previous sentence and know I’m more than halfway there. But the fact that there’s still a list indicates I have a way to go.

    Whyte writes of relationships and having found his thirst-quenching soulmate. When you reach that particular point you recognize immediately that yes, this is more than enough for me in this area of my life. And if you haven’t, well, you’d recognize that too. Contentment isn’t the same as complacency, and each day requires a recommitment to seeing it through. To seeing it continue to tomorrow and the tomorrows to follow.

    Lately I’ve turned my attention back to fitness and nutrition. Eating the right foods, drinking in moderation, exercise and a recommitment to my flexibility and strength that has somehow been missing for too long. I recognize within myself that there’s a thirst, a hunger if you will, to be better than I presently am. This is my current area of discontentment.

    The thing is, things change, and change constantly. If at one point in life I was content with my overall fitness level, I’m not now and work to change it. If I was once content with the number of days I spent traveling and exploring the world, now I’m restless and ready to get back out there. Circumstances change, and we change with circumstances. Contentment is a relative thing, and it’s relatively evasive. We must work for that which we seek in our lives.

    I expect Whyte knows this too. He didn’t say lifetime contentment, but present contentment. We’re dynamic beings coexisting with a dynamic and ever-changing world. Contentment is meant to be evasive. Our purpose is to keep working at this fragile dance, and make of it what we can in the time given to us. To be content with being a work in progress seems the ultimate measure of contentment.

  • Wonder is Reserved for the Seeker

    “There’s always a sunrise and always a sunset and it’s up to you to choose to be there for it,’ said my mother. ‘Put yourself in the way of beauty.” – Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

    For all the crowded madness of the world, there’s still wilderness and open ocean and yes, sunrises and sunsets awaiting us. There’s still plenty to experience, should we be willing to meet it halfway. We choose whether to be active participants, and it’s really easy to opt out. Sleeping in, not committing to the drive, sticking with the familiar routine… all comfortable, but offer a limited return. The world doesn’t care if we show up or not. But wonder is reserved for the seeker.

    Of course, this applies to so much more than sunrises and sunsets. Fortune favors the bold. You don’t know if you don’t try. The early bird gets the worm… plenty of clichés out there that lend credence to this idea that higher agency living is more fruitful than low agency.

    Just because wisdom is commonly known doesn’t mean it’s commonly applied. But maybe this time, let’s seek it out. Who knows what we might see?

  • More to See for You and Me

    “From here to Venezuela
    There’s nothing more to see
    Than a hundred thousand islands
    Flung like jewels upon the sea
    For you and me”
    – Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, The Lee Shore

    I heard about a former coworker, a guy with Israeli good looks and intense blue eyes that no doubt closed many negotiations of the heart, who succumbed to COVID after months of treatment. Younger than me, far more energy with a passion for family, travel and technology, in that order. A whirlwind of energy and intellect and movement. Quietly receding from life in a hospital bed in Miami.

    Which once again reminds me that life is so very brief, and the years of fitness and energy are even shorter. So what do we do with our days? Fritter it all away in spreadsheets and conference calls? Watch other people live their lives on social media? Or do something with our own?

    We miss too many opportunities to dance with the forests and the waves and the sky for this business of living. This busyness of living. But is it really living or just staying busy? The game of deferred living is a tragic and fatal one indeed.

    My friend is a reminder of what the stakes are, what the stakes have been, and why we changed everything. And now? Now we are living in the time of the haves and the have nots. Are you vaccinated or not? If you are, let’s celebrate our faith in science and each other and dance with the world.

    There’s so very much more to do in this short life. A hundred thousand islands are just waiting for you and me. Out there, just beyond the horizon. Waiting for us to weigh anchor and go to them. Let’s go out and meet the world.