Spartan Simplicity of Life and Elevation of Purpose

I've recently discovered the cure for materialism: MOVING. The simple task of packing up all of your stuff into boxes is a sure-fire way to jump-start your appreciation how little you really need to live a full and happy life.

We'll be moving out of our home of nine years next week into a new home just outside the city. The new home is comparable in size to our current one: we'll be losing only 40 square feet or so of living space, but gaining so much more: A quiet street, privacy, a graffiti-free neighborhood, a driveway, a yard. My commute to and from my day job will shrink from twenty miles to just over two, and I'm already excited about gaining several hours of family time every week and the prospect of occasionally biking or running to and from the office. (Yes, a slightly smaller carbon footprint means something to me.)

As much as I'm looking forward to settling in at the new home, the packing process has revealed a lot about my unconscious habits: Even after donating a ton of things we no longer need or use, and after completely filling a junk removal truck with the clutter in the basement, we still have far too much stuff. Naturally, we're keeping a number of things that have sentimental value, and I just can't bring myself to donate some of my books (knowing fully that I'm never going to read them again). We're leaving some of our furniture behind, but there's still too much stuff!

A friend of mine recently quipped that we spend the first half of our lives acquiring junk and the second half trying to get rid of it. So perhaps this is a turning point for me. As Thoreau, would point out, it's time to simplify:

The nation itself, with all its so-called internal improvements, which, by the way are all external and superficial, is just such an unwieldy and overgrown establishment, cluttered with furniture and tripped up by its own traps, ruined by luxury and heedless expense, by want of calculation and a worthy aim, as the million households in the land; and the only cure for it, as for them, is in a rigid economy, a stern and more than Spartan simplicity of life and elevation of purpose.

I feel really good about our new house. It's not too small, and not too big. Looking at an article online today about some wildly outrageous homes in the Greater Boston area, I know for sure that we're not overdoing it. (We couldn't afford to anyway!) For now, I'm planning to use the unpacking process as a second screening: another chance to decide to give away, or toss things that have no value and serve no purpose. After all, when it's time for my final move, I can't take any of this stuff with me.

Nature

A quick update this week:

As an outgrowth of my short nature-filled vacation a couple of weeks ago and my more recent exploration of environmentalism-as-self-defense in my "this I believe" essay, I've been trying to get outdoors more and spend more time enjoying nature and natural elements.

These days, I eat lunch outside whenever possible instead of at my desk; I step outside frequently to get out of the air-conditioning — even on the brutal 100-degree days. I've made it a point to look up more often — both at clouds and at stars (sometimes it's tough to even see them from my home in the city). I've decorated my office with a vase of wildflowers that I hand picked from the far edge of the office parking lot, and I take time each day to listen to the sounds of birds, rainfall, and cicadas.

It feels great.

Today, I've been reading "Nature" by Ralph Waldo Emerson. Magical stuff! Please enjoy this brief excerpt:

First, the simple perception of natural forms is a delight. The influence of the forms and actions in nature, is so needful to man, that, in its lowest functions, it seems to lie on the confines of commodity and beauty. To the body and mind which have been cramped by noxious work or company, nature is medicinal and restores their tone. The tradesman, the attorney comes out of the din and craft of the street, and sees the sky and the woods, and is a man again. In their eternal calm, he finds himself. The health of the eye seems to demand a horizon. We are never tired, so long as we can see far enough.

Now go and get yourself OUTSIDE!

Spending Time in Nature Is Self-Defense

Last week, we took the family on a quick vacation to the White Mountains region of New Hampshire. We did lots of touristy stuff for the kids, of course — time at Story Land, a day out with Thomas the Tank Engine, pony rides, and plenty of time in the swimming pool — but for me (and for all of us, I think), the best elements of the trip were just reconnecting with family and nature.

There were plenty of "animal attractions" at the touristy places: pigs, sheep, and goats aplenty. Not to mention an alpaca or two. But out in the wild, we saw deer, fish, and salamanders. We got bug bites. And at one point, a black bear crossed my path not 30 yards ahead of Ava and me. We saw rainbows over distant mountains and the stars at night. We smelled the pollution-free air, and we listened to waterfalls and to silence. Silence!

The effect that the woods, mountains, and fresh air had on my daughter was nothing short of amazing. Her natural curiosity came out in the form of questions like, "What do bears eat?", "Where do the deer sleep at night?" and "How do you tell the difference between a boy ladybug and a girl ladybug?"

Now, being a former Marine, I've spent a great deal of time out in nature. But it's been some time since my last outing. To be away from the city, away from the urban noises and pollution, and away from traffic and the crush of other people (even just for a few days) — well, it was restorative. And I also noticed that being out in the mountains gave my eyes and vision the chance to stretch all the way out to the real horizon instead of just to the next block of buildings. Even my gaze has softened.

We finished the trip with a quick stop at America's Stonehenge, where we walked amidst a 4,000 year old site where stones are placed to align with the movements of the sun and stars. The site was built accurately long, long before GPS "technology" existed. This was a time when man and nature were truly connected. As I stood at an ancient stone marking sunrise at the summer solstice, I knew that more time "plugging myself in" out in the woods is exactly what I need.

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This blog is part of the Ultimate Black Belt Test Program, which is an undertaking of The 100., and a part of Emerald Necklace Martial Arts in Boston, MA.

Evoking My Inner Hero

If you were a Superhero...

1.What would you be “called” (Your Super­hero name).
2.What attrib­utes — phys­i­cal, men­tal, emo­tional, spir­i­tual (what­ever feels pertinent) — would be your strengths?
3.What would be your great­est chal­lenge? Your “Kryp­tonite”? How would you strive to over­come that?What would your cos­tume look like?
4.And how will you apply becom­ing the Hero, in your own life?

I recently pondered these questions as part of an essay contest for the launch of the Clubbell Hero Evolution fitness program. My answers to the questions are below.
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I do not wish to be called Super­man, or Spi­der­man, or Bat­man, or any­thing of the sort. Me? I choose to be FAMILY MAN:

• A man with the men­tal dex­ter­ity to deal with the simul­ta­ne­ous mul­ti­task­ing of a thou­sand parental and spousal duties: clean­ing the laun­dry, mak­ing lunches, pay­ing the bills, and clean­ing the dishes, while main­tain­ing enough “brain mat­ter band­width” and phys­i­cal endurance to be present and engaged with every mem­ber of the family.
   
• A man with the emo­tional and spir­i­tual for­ti­tude and peer­less char­ac­ter to be an out­stand­ing role model for his chil­dren and a rock for his wife when­ever times get tough.
   
• A man who pos­sesses the phys­i­cal strength and prowess to be the ulti­mate fam­ily pro­tec­tor, with the will and abil­ity to van­quish any and all who dare to threaten those whom he holds dear.
   
• A man with the vision to lead and serve in his com­mu­nity with com­pas­sion, vision, and cre­ativ­ity: help­ing those in need by orga­niz­ing food dri­ves, park clean-ups, neigh­bor­hood crime watches, and more.

In short, I want to be a HERO in the eyes of my fam­ily and my com­mu­nity. And a hero needs to have a strong PHYSICAL lead­er­ship PRESENCE that inspires CONFIDENCE in others.

FAMILY MAN is a man with the endurance and longevity to shine proudly in life’s great­est moments:

FAMILY MAN trains now — mind­fully and with an inten­sity known only to other super­heroes — so that some fif­teen years from now he has ample energy to keep up with life’s ever-increasing pace. (I turn 40 this year. Ten or fif­teen years from now I want to play tackle foot­ball with my son, now just one year old. I want to be able to dance with a spring in my step at my daughter’s wed­ding – she turns 5 this month. And I never want to “retire” from the activ­ity I love the most: mar­tial arts. I’ve seen too many of my mar­tial arts seniors have to cut back due to injury, wear and tear of the joints, poor health, or just plain “old age.” THIS IS NOT THE PATH I CHOOSE.)

FAMILY MAN does not hide behind a mask, but he has cos­tumes for every sit­u­a­tion: cargo pants and old t-shirts for paint­ing and spack­ling; shorts and a wide-brimmed hat for yard work; khakis and a but­ton down shirt for the desk job; and sharp-looking suits for romanc­ing the wife. FAMILY man pos­sesses the men­tal, phys­i­cal, and emo­tional flex­i­bil­ity to adapt to any situation.

FAMILY MAN’S great­est enemy is ENTROPY: an invis­i­ble foe who man­i­fests as toys on the stairs and weeds in the lawn. An insid­i­ous mas­ter of dis­guise who unex­pect­edly shows him­self in such ways as leak­ing hot water heaters, bro­ken down cars that rob the fam­ily of vaca­tions, aging par­ents, and the atro­phy of bod­ies that don’t main­tain an aggres­sive work­out rou­tine to build and main­tain strength, endurance, and sup­ple­ness. Worst of all Entropy reveals itself in the com­mu­nity as neigh­bors who do not know or care for one another.

FAMILY MAN faces Entropy wher­ever it appears with grace, dig­nity, and humor.

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This blog is part of the Ultimate Black Belt Test Program, which is an undertaking of The 100., and a part of Emerald Necklace Martial Arts in Boston, MA.

Learn more about Sensei Jason Gould

Sleep!

If you've followed my journey for any length of time, one thing I'm sure you know about me is that I'm constantly (perhaps chronically) exhausted from a profound lack of sleep. So is my wife, Joy. It's not that we have trouble getting to sleep; no, we just have trouble getting sleep. With a 14 month old son and a young Type-1 diabetic daughter who requires blood sugar checks in the middle of the night, it's tough for either of us to string together more than 3 hours of complete downtime. We know it's not healthy, but it's the job any parent would do for their children.

Whenever we can, my wife and I choose one of us to "take the bullet" and be on watch for the evening so the other can get some rest. Last night we put both kids in our bedroom with Joy, and I trotted down the hall to sleep in my daughters room. No midnight feedings, no blood sugar checks, and no glucose monitor alarms to worry about. I lay down at about 8:30 PM, and I was out in seconds. I vaguely recall Joy coming in at some point to turn off the light.

My eyes popped open at about 5:30 am, and I noticed immediately (for the first time in a long, long time) that I felt completely rested — that more sleep wouldn't do me much good. So I lay there for a few minutes, just breathing mindfully and enjoying the liminal state between sleep and total wakefulness. I reveled blissfully in a world of no distractions, no worries, and no sense of urgency. And when I felt I was ready, I sat up. Once out of bed, I read for a few minutes from Thich Nhat Hanh's "Be Free Where You Are," and then I spent a few minutes going through a comprehensive mobility drill, moving all of my joints in succession to get my blood flowing. Fully awake alert, and energized for the day — but not yet in a state of planning and preparing my list of to-do's — I went straight to the cushion and sat down for 15 minutes of alert meditation practice.

I'd love to start every day like this —

I'd be unstoppable!

The lesson for me is clear: A good night's sleep and a mindful start to your day makes a HUGE difference in my energy level, mood, and outlook on life.

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This blog is part of the Ultimate Black Belt Test Program, which is an undertaking of The 100., and a part of Emerald Necklace Martial Arts in Boston, MA.

Learn more about Sensei Jason Gould

Back in the Swing of Things

A while back, I reported to my UBBT teammates that I'd somehow lost my mojo. I was exhausted, stressed out, and completely unmotivated. I was dropping weight, feeling lousy, and generally down in the dumps. I needed a break, and I took one. I dropped off the map. And now, things are different.

Maybe it's the change in the weather. Maybe it's because we're finally about to close on the house. Maybe it's because I've changed my routine at the dojo so I can spend more time with my family. Or perhaps its a combination of many factors. In any case, I like what I'm seeing:

• I'm blogging more
• I'm meditating daily
• I don't feel as stressed
• I'm sleeping a little bit better (not MORE, but better!)
• I'm training harder
• I'm smiling more
• I'm getting more reading done

At the start of the year, I weighed in at 187.4 lbs. Four months into the year, I'd dropped below 180 lbs for the first time in a decade. (The bad news was, I wasn't trying to lose weight!) Today I checked in at 182.8. I'm slowly putting some muscle back on while focusing on joint mobility and flexibility.

 

 

 

I'm feeling better and better, even as the dojo enrollment continues to drop, and "staying in business" is getting trickier and trickier. Somehow, though, I'm not concerned. I'm letting go, and that feels right to me, because one of the outcomes is that I'm enjoying my time in the dojo more. I'm feeling more creative and I'm having fun teaching again.

 

Perhaps, as I approach my 40th birthday, I'm feeling a bit of an energy surge -- call it an "eye of the tiger moment," if you will. I don't care. I'm riding this wave all the way to the shore!

Thoughts On Leadership and Solitude

With the first few spare minutes I've had in a long time, I took a few minutes to read this wonderful article on leadership and solitude. It resonates deeply with me.

Solitude and "alone time" for thinking is critically important. Having spent the last few months absorbed in far more projects, critical tasks, and personal crises than I can reasonably handle, it's easy for me to see that I've lost some of my edge, focus, vision, passion and drive as the "Chief Instructor" at the dojo. Keeping too many plates spinning has left me just spinning plates, totally forgetting why the plates are on those damn sticks in the first place, and without any sort of plan for what I'll do as soon as my current personal maelstrom comes to an end (as surely it must).

But the rain is letting up now, and the clouds are thinning. The sky is getting brighter. The sun isn't quite poking through the clouds just yet, but the "down time" forecast for next month is looking up. Perhaps then I'll be free enough from the "urgent" stuff to be more able to get some "important" work done.