Facing Forward
Lessons learned about life; pearls of wisdom I’ve gleaned through pain, failure and honest reflection
I love this post I found this morning on Instagram:
I’ve often found myself torn between my mind’s competing interests. Recently I figured out that at those moments, THIS is what I need to do: “pursue myself”. Become better, healthier, happier…all those things make for a better life. Much more so than simply getting some promotion or a new job.
Anyway, I wish a happy Friday to you all! May you move closer to your dreams.
grace consumes the night
within this silent darkness
healing commences
Like Eric Markowitz, for years I’ve been focused on “the long view” (as I’ve called it), or as he calls it “long-termism” (I do like his term). Basically, it means trying to make decisions that have a long-term, sustainable impact and escaping the tyranny of short-term (or, dare I call it, micro-term thinking). That mindset where the only thing one considers is maximizing profit (or enter your preferred KPI here) NOW, or perhaps out to the next earnings report. This thinking is so destructive when you look at the long game.
Mr. Markowitz wrote a piece last month titled “How a brush with death shaped my long game“. TLDR: he gets seriously sick, looking at a very high likelihood of death in the next few months. As you might expect, this causes one to rethink…a lot. (Fortunately, it has a happy ending…read it for the full details…it’s worth it).
He has lots of great ideas, but I particularly appreciate this one: “Playing the long game isn’t just about structure and process and systems that are designed to withstand the long-term: it’s about the joy and gratitude of getting to play the game in the first place.” I get fixated on the structure and processes and systems, and lose site of the joy.
Like him, I’ve had this long-term view in my mind, but have been really poor at living it. It’s far too easy for me to get wrapped up in short-term stresses, and lose track of the long-term goal. I appreciate the wake-up call (and am glad mine is this article and not the frightening series of events that Mr. Markowitz experienced).
I need to pull back and look bigger picture, focus on my long-term goals, and keep my short-term worries in perspective. Easier said than done, I know. Yet, I also know, it’s an effort that’s worth it. Like Thoreau, I want to ensure that “when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” That’s what’s most important to me.
Perhaps I should call this “elements of MY style”. But, anyway, Pinterest served this photo up to me today:
Oh, how I adore this photo! First, years ago, I had a fixation with scooters and, specifically, Vespas. Then you add in the fact I am fond of weathered, aged things. Oh, and I am fond of his satchel. Lastly, I love tweed! Mix that with a flat-cap and *chef’s kiss*.
I’ve had many flat caps over the years. My current arsenal holds two from Ireland (though I expect the fellow above is Scottish). And I don’t wear tweed that much any more. Perhaps I should fix that. Anyway, my closest alignment with this fellow comes with the only scooter I’ve ever owned. No, not a Vespa, but I had a Honda Elite 150 back in the late 80s (before I went to Oregon and Job Corps).
I enjoyed it greatly, but didn’t take it with me when I went to Oregon. It would’ve been handy after I got out of the Navy and lived in Downtown Seattle. But, well, I would’ve had to port this thing around the country. Which wasn’t in the cards.
Anyway, some fond memories here.
I make it a point to read Seth Godin blog posts every day (well, I try my best). Today, he wrote “The half-life of magic“.
“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”
Arthur C. Clarke
In this post, Mr. Godin points out how quickly magic wears off. And, by magic, I ascribe the appreciation and wonder. The rate of change has increased so dramatically that one of our challenges is to find wonder in life.
It is hard when we externalize this. When we’re waiting to find wonder, delight, joy, it becomes so much harder to find. Let me propose another alternative: to actively seek it. Take a moment and consider how amazing our lives our. With my cellphone I can look up almost anything humanity has ever learned. Almost all knowledge is, literally, at our fingertips. but these technological marvels are only a small piece. Look out the window, watch the rain, see the hummingbirds drift amongst the blossoms, or the juncos dark amongst the tree branches. Or the eagle drifting overhead, over this suburban human habitat.
Life is full of wonder if you choose to look for it. And that’s the pathway to a joy-filled life: searching for wonder.
Nadia Bolz-Weber, one my favorite theologians/pastors, received this question recently:
How do I guard against being a bitter and mean old lady?
I love her response (and highly recommend reading it), but let grab a few lines that hold the essence:
‘Could you maybe, even though it’s super cringy, place your hand on your heart and ask it “What hurt you? And how can we move on together?”’
“But reader, I am hopeful. Defiantly so. There are a million forms of shit out there, it’s true. But what is also true is that there are always more forms of love.”
As a boy I often heard the refrain “you are what you eat”. Eating better might be the goal, but I hold this true for mind, body, and soul. Therefore, to avoid bitterness, seek the beautiful, seek out love and joy. Also, write down those findings. That cements them into your soul.
Gratitude is the most powerful medicine against bitterness. Seeking out the good in the world is the only antidote to the world’s bitter cynicism. And it’s just an arm’s reach away.
What do I mean by this? Well, I have a unique background. My father was in the Navy when I was born, which is the root of this situation. I was born in Newport Naval Hospital. My father was stationed there, however briefly. Thus, “born in Rhode Island”.
Native Seattleite, though. Well, my parents were both born in Washington. My dad was born in Seattle. His mom was born in Seattle. All my grandparents were born in Washington…you get the drift. Fun tidbit: I was supposed to be born in Seattle, but I opted to crash my mom’s trip to visit my dad. I like to be early.
My first and second birthdays were celebrated at my grandparent’s place in Edmonds (my mom was finishing up grad school at UW). That same place was “home”, as in “we’re going home for Christmas”.
So, yeah, my early childhood was spent living all over the world. Besides “greater Seattle”, I lived in Rhode Island, California, Virginia/Greater Washington DC, San Miguel and Subic Bay, Philippines, before we moved to Lynnwood when I was not-quite 10. A little over-complicated, but a key factor in becoming who I am.
One of my favorite online comics, Lunarbaboon, featured this dad joke today:
In the comments, Derek S. left this gem of a dad joke:
I went to see my new doctor today, and I have to admit, I was a little shocked. He was from Madrid, and he had sleeve tattoos and tattoos on both hands. My surprise must have been obvious because he said “it’s okay, you’re not the first. No one expects the Spanish inked physician.”
It hints at this classic Monty Python sketch, which I’ve added below for the edification of those unfamiliar with Monty Python.
One of my digital friends, Bernie, wrote this blog post featuring Maria Popova, a writer I admire greatly. In the article, Popova writes about the grief feels upon the passing of her beloved friend Emily Levine. She explores how poetry impacted that journey, and how it can help us all manage the finitude of our lives. I love her line “[N]ow that Emily has returned her stardust to the universe…” as a descriptor of death. Makes me think of Carl Sagan’s line that we’re all made of “star stuff”. There’s infinity within our finite nature. So very Zen, I guess.
Anyway, I highly recommend Maria’s post, and all of her work.
I came up with this one on my walk this evening. It was a clear night, and the air brisk.
The image was pulled together with Canva, and the rest done with TikTok’s app.