Are We There Yet?

People often ask, "Why did you quit your career?"
I don't know if I have a good answer. The short answer is: passion for authenticity.

Also people asked, "Why did you move to Taiwan?"
Well, it's not an accident. Before the move, we figured that the food is good in Taiwan, they have a great national health care system, the people seem nice, and one of my parents liked the idea; plus,

Impermanence

(Image borrowed from the Web)

Back in 1989, Don Henley wrote a song that has stuck with me ever since. (Full lyrics here) "New York Minute" brings the human condition into sharp focus:

Everything is impermanent. Everything.

This is not just happening to everyone else. It's personal. Henley points that out with every scenario in the song. His opening to the last stanza has become a touchstone for me over the years.

What the head makes cloudy
The heart makes very clear

I tend to over-think things, often heading down a path that leads me away from the goodness right in front of me. l seem to think that I can logically predict what comes next. Rarely have I been proven right, and if I do apparently get it right, "everything can change in a New York minute."

Good or bad, whatever is happening right now can change in a New York minute. That's not just a message of desperation. It's also a message of hope.

When I fully appreciate impermanence, I more easily recognize the richness of this particular day.

May my heart make that very clear.

I Wander

Convict Lake, California

Experts offer life improvement tips and tricks all the time. After having read quite a bit of their advice, I've discovered that they almost always contradict each other. It's almost as if "one man's poison is another man's medicine." 

So rather than fussing with other people's ideas, attempting to replicate their life lessons, I concluded that I am better off finding my own way.

New Band: "Supercramp"

My newest band is called "Supercramp." We already have a Greatest Hits album. Here are the songs:
"Grime of the Century," "Food's Overture," "The Logical Gong," "Even in the Quietest Monuments," "Bleakfest in America," "Ruddy Well Blight," "Take the Wrong Way Home," "Goodbye Strangler," and "Give a Little Sh!t."

Our place in history is most certainly ensured.

The Big P

I'd like to think after all these years, I've figured out what my purpose in life is. The Big P, that is.

The same day I stepped out of my IT job, I twisted my angle in my own garage. It seemed highly unlikely that such small accident would keep me from walking for almost six months. When the speedy recovery wasn't happening, I had no choice but to be patient with myself. I meditated, read an insane number of books, watched baby birds hatch and take their first flights, counted lemons on the lemon tree, got good at recognizing humming birds by sound, even talked to the roses...

The Value of Boredom

     An apology is in order. I fell into a classic parenting trap. I told my kids that being bored was an inexcusable sign of a lack of creativity. And I believed it.
     According to psychoanalyst Adam Phillips, having the capacity to be bored is actually an essential element for a full life.
     Boredom is halfway between wanting something to spark our interest, and hoping we come up with something on our own. These two wishes are actually in opposition, but neither is fulfilled. In fact, what we really hope for is that we'll actually become interested at all. But we're not. Everything we look at is meh. We become preoccupied with the fact that we're not preoccupied.
     Phillips points out that despite the irritation and frustration we feel when we're bored, we are actually "reaching to a recurrent sense of emptiness out of which [our] real desire can crystallize."
     Hmm...emptiness...real desire... Wait, doesn't everything arise out of emptiness? Isn't that the necessary condition for something new? This is ancient wisdom. But we dread that irritation--and someone told us it was inexcusable--so we check our cellphones, turn on the television, surf the Web, play solitaire, or just complain to other people whenever the level of stimulation drops below a certain point. It's better to be busily unfulfilled.
     We end up displacing the emptiness out of which what we really want can arise. If we do get to that stillness, we might find it boring. That's okay.
     Lauren, Sarina, Ryan and Alan: I'm sorry. You don't need my permission anymore, but you have it, late though it is. You can be bored now. I won't judge you for it. I'm learning not to judge myself for avoiding it.

Morning Coffee

I get to have coffee with my best friend every morning.

It started at a McDonald's somewhere halfway between Everett, Washington, and Portland, Oregon. We lived 200 miles apart at that time but somehow managed to meet twice a week. We needed each other and we needed that coffee. When we got to spend more time together on the weekends, we didn't want to "waste" time going out. Hence our version of "Javoca" was born. It's a simple hot drink that blends instant coffee and cocoa mix (click to listen to "Javoca"). Over long conversations and cups of Javoca, we answered each other's questions about "who am I." We liked the answers we received.

We got married and got to work for the same company. On the way to work, we would stop by our neighborhood Starbucks and say "Hi" to the "breakfast club," a group of seniors from the retirement community nearby who met there every morning. Then we enjoyed the day's first cup of coffee as we carpooled. We had a lot to talk about. In those morning coffee conversations, we learned to help each other grow and cope with the complexity of a mixed and blended family. 

Both of my sons chose colleges in California. I missed them terribly, and I was beginning to yearn for something more. We decided to move to sunny California to take a look. On cold workday mornings, we would light up the fireplace and enjoy our wonderful conversations over a cup of home brewed coffee before the commute. On weekends, we'd go to the Queen Bean coffee house where we had found the world's best "Cubano." We would spend hours reading, talking, writing and drawing. We dug deep into our souls, asking hard questions and daring ourselves to dream. After umptine "Cubanos," it became obvious that we had to do this full-time. But how? "Quit our jobs and move to Taiwan then." Those "Cubanos" were very powerful!

So many things changed after the move. Our daily morning coffee survived. We now use a French Press, Vietnamese Drip, cold brew, or Mark's secret weapon. Our conversations still center around learning of all sorts. I love our morning coffee time and Mark is still my best friend. I could not ask for a better partner in life!

[Mark says: "Ditto! Lucky me!"]