Go Paddle Upstream.

“As we transform our own experience and relationship to our realities, we cannot help but affect those around us in radiating circles into the larger culture. These moments of freedom and transformation begin to change and elevate the consciousness and awareness of the world.”

This wonderful quote by meditation teacher Larry Yang captures an important and timely concept with surgical precision. So often we feel powerless and overwhelmed by events taking place on the global stage. It is not by chance that the bulk of the reporting on those events falls under the category of propaganda. Not a day passes when I am not (pick one) outraged, furious, befuddled, shocked, appalled, exasperated or emotionally stressed by click-bait headlines pointing at "news". The current cabal of kakistocrats, and their complicit minions, have managed to steal the shotgun, point it at our hearts and bark with a drawl for us to get our hands up. 

Kakistocracy is the government of a state by its most stupid, ignorant, least qualified and unprincipled citizens in power. Kakistos means “worst” which is superlative of kakos “bad” (perhaps also related to “defecate”). Along with kratos meaning “power, rule.”

No wonder we sometimes feel like we’ve been shot at and missed and shit on and hit. 

However, this is not to say that all hope is lost. The pendulum swings, and with persistence, courage, spirited effort and a united voice, the pendulum will swing back in the direction of democracy, truth, progress and justice. For all. This will happen. The question is when? And what damage will be done as we procrastinate in our decision making process and the call to arms? 

It is an interesting social experiment, the results of which could easily determine our very tenure as stewards (inhabitants) of this planet. So yes, I am interested in mashing any technologies, theories, philosophies, ideas, and forums that might assist in the effort to restore peace, cooperation, honesty and compassion to the mix. 

It is apparent to athletes, musicians and activists how important their personal power is to the group, team or community. We have long been aware of the grass-roots, ground-up responsibility of every member of the unit to transform themselves into the best team-player they can be. An awareness that is summed by the imagery of the team as a whole, where each member has the noble assignment to develop themselves through training, education, commitment and allegiance in order to increase the teams capability. In this case the sum is truly greater than its individual parts and only as strong as its weakest link. If you need reminding, please do not be that link. 

This alone gives me daily inspiration and hope. It is my responsibility to become an integral part, a contributing member, a willing and selfless participant on the team I consider most worthy of my association and energy. It is crucial that we all invest in the buddy system motto that states if we change a part of the whole, ourselves as individuals, we change the whole, our team, and in turn our home, and by default the entire planet. Every action counts. 

That’s it, that is all. There is our map. Let us work relentlessly towards radiating that circle outward into the larger culture. 

You know exactly what this means. The time to put that understanding into action, the transfer of knowledge to wisdom, is now. Paddle upstream. 

Please relax into the flow that will carry you to greatness and achievement. Start here. Begin now. Lead by example. Radiate your peace and presence in outward expansion. The frequency of that powerful vibration, if amplified by enough of us, has the power to change the world. 

Change the part, change the whole. Go. 

Acing the Test

The envelope please.

Following is my report on this mornings test. If you are interested you may learn the details, protocols and assumptions of the test in yesterday’s post, found here. 

I didn’t sleep particularly well. I was bothered by an inability to find the specific passage (Beethoven’s seminal Symphony number nine, in D-minor, Opus 124, movement IV), this is the one I wanted, but had inadvertently downloaded the choral my mistake. By the time I had recognized my error, I had lost wifi connectivity, watched another episode of Homeland (Season 2 finale), dined on salmon, cod and a rice curry mix and drank three delicious glasses of a French Pinot Noir. Frustrated, weary from the day and finally free of hip pain (salute!) I tried to sleep over the nagging reality that the experiment, if it was to have any chance at all of success, would come from my attention to detail and ability to carry the movement as il maestro. Finally negotiating a compromise, I would rise early, find the piece and re-mix the set list to include the righteous passage, this in exchange for piece of mind and some much needed rest. At this point I hadn't even created the spinning accompaniment, a rather important element of an indoor cycling class. 

My Saturday class starts at 0730 and runs for an hour. I am free to employ any format, style, level of intensity and selection of musical accompaniment that I desire. It is totally my show and over the course of the twenty years we have been meeting under this description we have traversed many happy miles of indoor cycling, going nowhere incredibly fast. 

It has always been my approach that music, as powerful an ally as it is, is secondary to the true idea of indoor cycling as training, where our ability, or lack thereof, to focus on the task at hand and not allow distraction to interfere, translates into the background soundtrack being non-essential to the primary directive. We used to say that the intrepid cyclist could, and should, train in front of a white wall in total silence in order the take her game to not only the next, but the highest level possible. I have since softened on that stance and have experimented with countless synergies since to find that combination of sound and movement that allows us to engage with the gods who ride on the road of total devotion and dynamic flow. 

With these two disparate elements, music and exercise, we set out this morning to test the possibilities that come from their harmonious partnership. I suggested that if music has the power to move us, that said movement is internal, emotional and personal, and when combined with a steady, efficient rhythm, a frequency of higher physical demand, that the combination, their sum, could be considered in many circles as magic. 

So I asked for Beethoven’s help in leading us to that place.

I stumbled through a rough introduction but by the time that Steppenwolf, in Magic Carpet Ride told us to let the music take us away, and Jerry in Franlin’s Tower suggested that should we become confused just listen to the music play, it was time for the gist of the test to begin. 

There are only three steps I reminded the group, one, to use music as an ally and embody its spirit and energy, two, to add appropriate physical, graceful movement to the mix and three, pay attention to what results. 

The six minute movement is one of the most ethereal pieces of music ever written. I make that claim without reservation and with no exaggeration. Listen for yourself here if you aren’t familiar with it. 

We finish the drill, the test is over, the silence roars in the triumph and success of the prior experience, and for the first time ever, an appreciative round of applause fills the void left by the joyous completion of this absolute masterwork and our participation with it. The dance is done. 

And I am happy, which is, of course this experiments equivalent of acing the test. 

See What Happens

Out of chaos complex patterns emerge. Under the assumption that we are ready and willing to accept the responsibility of tuning to the right frequency and hear the message. Using the imagery of cruising down a dark desert highway, with nothing other than a vintage analog car radio for entertainment, we mindlessly punch buttons that direct our awareness to pre-recorded programming. Commercials, PSAs, static, totally inappropriate musical genres for the mood we desire all compete for the privilege of our attention. The very personal preferences we establish and protect are interesting samples of the character we have created as us. Think about it right now, given the opportunity to choose a musical accompaniment to your ‘right now’ what would it be? And perhaps more importantly, why?

The patterns of complexity increase exponentially as we add movement to the mix. Music moves us. It has the rare power to inspire our minds towards freedom and set our bodies in motion. This, dear listeners, is pure magic. Why we gravitate with seemingly magnetic attraction towards one type of music over another is (follow these dots), individual, personal, social, regional, cultural, national and universal. From the entire musical catalogue of the world’s masterworks to the kids down the block in Dad’s garage, the options are limited only by our dedication to seek them out and try them on for emotional size. Does it have that swing? Does it rock? Does it move me? Am I inspired by its melody, beat, lyrical content, arrangement, delivery and/or performance? What is my intended use? How will it improve my current situation and perhaps establish a lifetime of engagement with it?

We have lift. We are in orbit, launched into a space and time where the creative imperative is a nerve ending of energy, power and possibility. The dance is on. We move. We accept the majesty of the moment and try again to jettison the social ballast that keeps us near the bottom of our purest trajectories. Towards what destination?

Certainly it is enough to merely experience this spiritual weightlessness. But, like the human body, it has many uses that we can select as the best mix to enrich our understanding and compassion, our speed and strength and our gratitude and forgiveness. The complex patters begin to emerge as a single whole as we unite mind, body and spirit in the cosmic dance. Somewhere in your DNA is a drum beat, a piano concerto and an angelic chorale. Sitting shotgun beside that double-helix is your genetic propensity towards movement and motion, and in the navigator's seat is your spirit madly attempting to course correct at light speed and in real time. If you get confused listen to the music play.

It is at this point that we realize the incredible joy of rhythm, of the continual, repetitive notes of life. The human heart beating at regular intervals, breaths in a pattern as simple as in and out, muscles constricting and relaxing, thoughts coming and going. A billion atoms avoiding head-on collisions inside and outside of the vehicle known to you as you.

Begging again the question, what do we do with all of this?

For our purposes, and please remember that we are primarily interested in health and fitness - despite the rather philosophical and metaphysical considerations offered above - we have a daily opportunity to explore the wonderful and utilitarian combination of music and movement. And, more  precisely, and thus closer to finding magic in the chaos, speaking of the synergy of the music that moves us and ANY FOCUSED ACTIVITY THAT INVOLVES RHYTHMIC MOVEMENT.

In our example today we are specifically talking about indoor cycling, although it can just as easily be applied to running, swimming, hiking, surfing, skiing or orienteering.

Step One: Find that piece of music that works for you. Tomorrow in class I will boldly use yesterday’s example of Beethoven’s Ode to Joy, despite its genera, classical, being nowhere near the accepted current spinning accompaniment. You may find techno, hip-hop or trance more suitable and that is fine. The only criteria is that your selection must transport you emotionally to another internal place. If Beyonce or Black Sabbath does that for you, I take no issue.

Stop Two: Select a vehicle. We like stationary bikes. You may use a treadmill, elliptical, pool or parachute. Set up, hop aboard, bring to operating temperature and turn on the music.

Step Three: See what happens.

Time, as they say.

The idea, as concept, is neither new nor particularly inventive. But it is interesting. So let’s explore a little and see what develops. (Or, hold really still as we try to shoot the apple off your head).

It all started with a comment made by a music critic (a job I always considered obscenely paradoxical) who suggested that a particular piece of music, a movie score, ‘takes us to a different place.’  OK, cool, we all get that music can, and should, do that. The quandary enters stage left, when we match that against the standard ‘be here now’ idea of being in the present moment. As you not doubt have heard me recommend on several occasions, this is one of our highest ranking spinning, training, racing and learning principles. TO ACHIEVE OPTIMUM DYNAMIC FLOW STATE ONE MUST BE WHOLLY PRESENT IN THE ACTIVITY. You have also, on an equally frequent rotation, heard me comment  on the power of music to assist in this process. As a classical example I will infer that anyone who listens to Ode to Joy without feeling a touch of its titular emotion, is missing out on some serious high octane magic. It does, indeed, fill all the requirements of time and space transport. For the record, so do a thousand other songs, in every genera crossing every stylistic platform, time signature and featured instrumentation from Vivaldi to Van Halen. This phenomena is very personal however much the social customs of the day dominate, like any good propaganda, the direction of choice.

Which circles us back to the original idea, which, framed in question format becomes: How can we ‘allow’ music to take us to a different place while staying in the present moment?

Given the underlying colloquialism, its poetic license, the ‘taking to another place’ isn’t a physical transport at all but more a not-so-subtle shift in perspective, a look-at-it-this-way opportunity to open one of our many doors of perception. Let the sound take you away. Away from anger, fear, anxiety, stress, doubt, weakness and guilt. When we ‘get lost’ in something it is really a choice we make to become totally immersed in the exhilarating freedom of having nowhere to go and nothing more to lose. All pointing with neon arrows to the power of the now. We actually increase our innate ability to simultaneously use both sides of the brain as we move our bodies in graceful harmony in search of this magical place we call flow. If ever you wondered about ways and means to achieve contact with your soul, I will rest the case on this combination.

With apologies to Ludvig, Antonio, Herman Hesse, John Kay, Eddie, John, Paul, Kris Kristofferson and Rossini, I humbly submit (and we will test the theory Saturday) that this could be a break-through in scientific methodology. Can we, by using the criteria and protocol outlined above (inviting the ‘other place’ properties of music to enhance the power of the present moment as it applies to indoor cycling), achieve a greater level, discover additional quality or deliver cleaner value to our workouts?

Time, as they say, William Tell.

The Only Rule

The only rule is you must begin.

And once begun.

You had better finish.

Seems straightforward and clear. There is no mention of quality, of relevance, of topic or length. It need not be humorous, dramatic, thought provoking or a call to action. It can be anything. It can sort nonsense or it can search for meaning with full-on bravado and with the determination of a pileated woodpecker. It is a blank canvas asking for color. It is a slab of marble asking for shape. It is a guitar screaming to be played. It is a voice longing to be heard and a thought patiently waiting for expression. It is a mountain at sunrise asking ‘why not?’ 

Between the ‘rule’ and its requirement of taking the first step and the implied ‘goal’ or ‘destination’ of completion, the nuts and bolts, the brick and mortar of the project binds it together because its completion, the success, challenge and the practice means repetition EVERY DAY. 

Once begun, another step must be taken every day, for a year. Three-hundred and sixty-five steps taken ONE AT A TIME. One-a-day. (Incidentally, the half-way point is Monday at 0000). 

This is the secret to anything. I use this blog, this practice, to illustrate the formula. I do this every day. That is enough by itself. I do not need a thousand likes, five hundred comments, or commercial endorsements. I do this as a discipline, a routine, as therapy and for research. I also do it for fun, for continual education and to explore places where no commercial aircraft of supersonic transport apparatus can. Inside my head, in my heart and into my soul. To me, that sounds like something that should be done every day, like eating, moving and quiet meditation. The search for ways and means to continually improve that one thing that I can actually control. Me, my thoughts and their resulting actions. And I want to do better. 

With the clock ticking and time running out. 

This small tooth on the cog is one of many, but without it, everything else suffers. Without it unnecessary stress is placed upon the other teeth creating an inefficient, unbalanced, unreliable flow of energy. I have a responsibility to myself to relentlessly enhance my skills and base of knowledge in order to be the best I can, because not only does that keep me moving in the right direction as an individual, but it assists the team effort as well. We are fond of saying that by changing a part of the whole (the me) we chang the whole (the us.) And that is why we do this every day. Because it is urgent. It is who we are are who we wish to be. There should be no remaining doubt that if we desire to add value to a society in need of immediate help, the better our readiness - the better the results. Nobody goes to the local Library looking to refinance their home. No one hires a child to do the work of adults. The rosters of teams in the NFL seldom contain players that are faint of heart. 

Practice makes perfect, sometimes. A higher percentage of success comes from perfect practice. In our example today, that means practice every day. Pick your passion; sports, screenwriting, music, crossword puzzles, house paining, fine art, tap dancing, foreign language, triathlon, communications, theology, blogging, law, gardening, whatever your soul suggests is a worthy ally on your sacred journey. Because dear friends, this is that. 

It is deserving of a daily dose of focus, awareness and respect. The only rule. 

Renew

Flipping through the folders in my red file cabinet this morning, looking for my Spinning certification, as insurance needs to be renewed, I found a one page document. I appeared to be a past handout from one of the many group fitness coordinators under whose supervision I have toiled. In making a real-time, on-the-fly assessment, it quickly became apparent that I might be able to use it as a self-assessment guideline and who knows, maybe even learn something. So here goes. My rating system (I will attempt total and deeply objective sincerity) is on the 1-5 scale of brutal honesty, 5 being absolute perfection and 1 being an area needing some work. This may hurt like a Super Eight.

• Be a role model for all things spinning. 5
• Find and teach my passion. 5 (are you detecting a trend?)
• Be kind to yourself. 3 (so much for positive trending)
• Explore new formats, ideas, theories and classes. 4.5 (halves can be important with details)
• Remember to keep things simple. 4.5 (OMG, another trend)
• Try new styles of music in my classes. 4
• Nurture the new person in class. 4 (not sure nurture is the perfect verb here)
• Keep your classes at the appropriate level. 5 (Hello Standard Disclaimer)
• Give permission for modifications in your classes. 5 (see above)
• Know what injuries you are dealing with in your classes. 4.5 (I will assume they mean the students)
• Love the job and let it show. 5
• Eat, sleep and play well. 4
• Be on time, prepared and completely present. 5
• Joyfully substitute for my colleagues. 5
• Welcome everyone with a smile. 5
• Keep my classes fresh. 4.5
• Ensure that my classes are safe. 5 (haven’t lost anyone yet)
• Keep my certifications current. 1 (the reason for the file cabinet)
• Attend conferences and workshops to improve my skills. 4
• Volunteer my time to a worthy cause. 4 (not sure how this one slipped in, but…)
• Mentor a new instructor. 3 (not in a while)
• Seek out a mentor. 3 (always looking)
• Befriend and respect my fellow instructors. 3 (respect yes, befriend, depends)
• Keep open to feedback. 4 (fire away)
• Call people by name. 4
• And, most importantly, I will never give up on my clients even if they have given up on themselves. 4 (if you give up I will most likely not see you anymore, sorry.)

26 questions. My average was 4. Hoping that on the bell curve it rings true.

Now to renew that certificate and policy.

Our Road

We all have our own secrets. Not the skeletons in the closet type, but the elements we have established as crucial to our success. In sum, they are the things that comprise the us we refer to when speaking in the first person. I have mine and you yours. My most important line item secret is - that there are no secrets. It is all common knowledge, done a thousand times before and nothing new. Seriously, will I be the first person ever to mix diet, exercise, stress management, stretching, weightlifting, meditation and music into something greater than their respective parts? No, absolutely not. I can say unequivocally that this methodology has been used more times as a game plan than three chords and rhyming couplets have made rock songs. 

BUT THEREIN LIES THE RUB BUB!

Some of those songs are among my favorites. And that gives us all the unique opportunity to add our personal preferences to the mix.  In combinations, ratios, philosophies and dreams that separate us from the person standing beside or behind  us. Consider the endless possibilities we isolate, inspect and invest in our growth process, that magical trajectory of adaptation and evolution. We can add parts, measures, bits and pieces or truck loads of such precious commodities as (to name but a few), love, happiness, devotion, commitment, service, gratitude, forgiveness, education, creativity, spirituality, rhythm and flow into the blender that concocts our real-time, moving target definition of who were are. There are limitless possibilities. 

I used the now infamous two donut parable this morning in class. I told those assembled that I was going to try a third time to get the story straight and make the meaning a little clearer than the muddy waters of my first two attempts. Because this is an important part of the me of today, the me as storyteller, as mentor, as coach and as a willing partner to all associated efforts that push the health, fitness and growth narrative. This part, this activity and this goal are so important to me at this critical juncture that I have tossed my trusty compass and detailed map into the garbage can. They have faithfully served their purpose (to get me here) and are no longer necessary as this place in space is navigated further by simply trusting the cosmic reality of here and now, or as they say in Ultrarunning, RUNNING THIS MILE. You can quote me, or Joe Paterno, Vince Lombardi or Scott Jurek, but (quote starts here): If you do everything right in practice, all you can do is go out and play the game. Yes, I understand that is a BIG IF, and it is where 99% of the football players or trail runners fail to achieve their dreams. Faith in the process, dedication to the now, this drill, this hill, this effort, when assembled together create the bigger picture of success, completion and in most cases a victory of appropriate status. Sometimes the victory is a minor one, as walking away from the donut display case, one simply necessary to proceed with confidence, other times it is a major win, one of those timeline moments we talk about as a pivotal for many years. The moments we pass along to others just starting their journeys in the form of wisdom from our experience. Kinda like a secret, a tale of caution, of magic, or reward. The times we were knocked down (ate the donut) but got back up and persisted. 

At one point or another the hero of our story faces the moment of truth. She can act or not. He can choose the path of least resistance or lead the resistance. If we practice this scenario on a daily basis, assigning to it our personal mix of courage, wisdom, compassion and resolve to each, when that moment arrives, we will be ready. In many disciplines and philosophies this is fittingly called our ‘practice.’  It is what we do and who we are. It is our road. 

There is no secret to it. It is just hard, consistent right effort. 

RIGHT?

You ate them both RIGHT?

The best of intentions are nothing but fantasies until put into action. 

Yesterday was weird. After a particularly grueling hour of power in the infamous House of Mirth, where I watched my heart-rate monitor indicate frequent visits into and out of atrial fibrillation (henceforth AF), I spent the remainder of the day feeling as if my remaining time here was a matter of minutes, not weeks, months or years. Lightheaded and forlorn, I assembled a rambling, messy, distressed and worst of all, an altogether uninteresting combination of nouns, verbs and way too many adjectives. My intention was to make sense of an impulse purchase of two donuts at the local Safeway the day before and how that simple action contained both the cause and effect of my current situation. I do now have a better understanding as to why they call it comfort food. 

From the literary standpoint it was to be an exercise in detail. What was I thinking at the time and how would that factor into answering the big question of what happens next? In screenwriting parlance this is known as a storyline, where a talented writer can walk us through what is happening (ever so slightly under the surface of the action), or be crafty enough to tell us enough so that we can make up our own minds about the characters motivation and intent. Many times I have stood before the glass doors safeguarding the cache of deep-fried sugared dough and considered a suitable camera angle to capture the intense drama of this decision making process. True confectionery conflict. 

BUT, by the time my oxygen starved brain had completed a single sentence, I was off into a random stream of consciousness rap that ran with high anxiety through and around the thorny ground of pity, power, simple carbohydrates and motivation 101. A mushy mash-up of instant gratification that not even a dollar re-fill of coffee at the gas station could mask. Bad enough that I was fighting the physical but now I had to negotiate the emotional as well. 

However THAT was the whole idea. Thinking that my training, rest and recovery, management of what seems like an escalating onslaught of relentless stress, a blue-plate load of small but important tasks and the reconciliation of their sum to pragmatic, positive and successful conclusions, should give me the OK to ENJOY A FUCKING DONUT. 

I wanted to talk about how important this is, the donut as metaphor, when it seems like shit is falling out of the sky with GPS accuracy on your poor fucking head. One can do worse. I could have bought a jug of Jack, a couple of edibles, gone for a happy-ending massage, headed to the casino or any number of other nefarious distractions and vices designed to numb the reality of the circumstance. THIS IS TOO MUCH TO DEAL WITH - SOMEBODY GET ME OUTTA HERE. 

So I select two of those cinnamon-sugar things that I think they call a Bear Claws. I put them in a small plastic bag and walk slowly towards self checkout. On the way I hear a voice in my head (very Tarantino) suggest that I ditch the dough in the cheese section and walk out the front door and run through the parking lot to the safety of my van. Overruling this I go through the plan which at this point is to prove to myself that I can enjoy this simple treat, sans guilt, perhaps as a sweet reward for my effort in class, and not die on the spot from excess sugar clotting in my femoral artery or from some socially mandated gross embarrassment symptom.  

With this as a quasi-scientific test of my current state of emotional equilibrium and ability to match temporal awareness with reality, and after a lengthy conversation with an old friend while in line for coffee, where we naturally talked about racing and training (dude I have two donuts in the van), I am finally ready for the moment of truth. Will I be able to actually enjoy the donuts and coffee, be grateful that this is not a regular addiction or mindless bad habit and be thankful that I do not suffer from diabetes of any type? Will I enjoy the moment and then simply (and triumphantly) wipe my face and move along with my day, satisfied and guilt-free? 

This is what I wanted to explore and investigate yesterday. Somewhere along that road I got lost. The day ended up on the grill as a complete nothing burger. I am not productive when frustrated with AF and irritated by the failings of my body. This, in turn, compounds the situation in my head, where my value and self-worth is reduced to barely above slug status. No pity just fact. 

But at least I enjoyed the donuts right?

RIGHT?

Big Donut

Randy's in LA

A Big Donut. 

I do not have a sweet tooth, let’s get that out of the way. I never feel an overwhelming desire for sugar. I own no chocolate Jones. I do not use processed pure cane-sugar in my coffee, on my granola or muesli, or for baking. The closest I come to satisfying that crave is by pressing a ribbon of honey onto the peanut butter that rests atop a slab of toast. This ritual takes place, usually, around noon each day. NOON?

Yes. I subscribe to the intermittent fasting protocol, a self-guided daily tour through the sensations normally associated with ’feeling hungry.’ I started this several years ago, and now it is habit. Three days per week I work out twice before the toast reward. For whatever odd reason, the discipline required to execute this effort/reward combo satisfies a part of me that insists upon it. I do not fully understand enough about the specific part, but I do recognize the value in the approach. I will continue to experiment with the combinations until it becomes obvious that one way offers more value than the others. It is the same approach I took with a plant based diet, carbs, paleo and 40/30/30. Testing is training and training is testing. See what works. 

There are a few caveats that separates my personal experiment of one and all the others, including yours. In my case there are three main facts that make this such an interesting test. They are:

1) I am three short years from the celebration of my seventh decade on this planet.

2) I have chronic atrial fibrillation and carry a pacemaker wherever I go.

3) In a cosmic joke of sorts, items 1 & 2 have brought great financial strain. 

All meaning, as love is the sum of all emotions, that I must find a clever, perhaps even elegant way to negotiate the modern day realities of health care, preventative maintenance and even housing. A real job is something that I haven’t held for ten years. I may have a fixed income, but there is nothing set in concrete when it comes to assuming responsibility for my own health and fitness. That, despite the degree of difficulty, is on me. I own it. It my be hard, frustrating, aggravating and outrageously expensive, but my secret, if we can call it that, is to never say die. Keep trying, keep moving and keep smiling through the process. As Samuel L might say, Semper Fi motherfucker. 

The diet to exercise ratio is one of the most important, up there with mind to body and body to spirit. Anything we can do, anything I can do to push the effort to reward quotient forward is a major win. And I will take three or four of them, actually as many as I can fit, into every day. Eat something good, healthy, local and organic. Do another set of hill repeats. Use the new pool to swim laps and gauge the extent of shoulder damage. Sit in quiet meditation. My ‘A’ race is now less than a month away. Drop that final five pounds so that even matched with muscle loss there is less mass to move. 

And be aware of everything along the path. The good as well as the not-so good. Appreciate the basic reality that you are still in the race. The rats have all given up, caught by the fast cats. From this point onward, to the finish, it is you versus you. It is crucial that this leg of the journey by completed with grace and elan, with joy and gumption, with gratitude and forgiveness, with laughter and respect.

Go ahead have a donut (cause things change.)

Dear Mr Congressman

After watching a recommended TED talk by Lawrence "Lester" Lessig yesterday, the gist of which was money’s influence in politics, I was amazed at the degree to which we have sunk. Even the most apolitical among us knows that ‘the shotgun sings the song’, is simply the opening number of the dark opera of American politics and that ‘follow the money’ is the encore. Lessig lays all this out in a particularly poignant aria. Normally I push back from lectures of this theme with disgust and disdain, but there was something else Mr Lessig pointed out that added another element to my wretched opinion of the DC swamp we currently tolerate. He said that as hopeless as it can sometimes feel, how outnumbered we the people are, how staked the deck, we are still, barely, still in charge. And as I see this to be our clinging to the thread of democracy, we cling on refusing to let go of the basics of our constitution and the rule of law. We still vote. Please allow me to issue the fair warning at this time that I believe we are in a very real constitutional crisis. If you need any further evidence of this corrupt administrations ‘above the law’ stance, please turn on your TV and you’ll quickly get earfuls and eyefuls (sandwiched between advertisements for drugs to calm you, cars to move you and insurance to cover you should you mix the two.) This is almost too much to take. It is a daily dosing of horror at which even Vincent Price would cringe. We are being led to the gallows as we giggle a cat videos on YouTube and wonder who is telling is the truth, MSNBC or Faux. 

America is under attack. Allow me to offer an example by asking a rhetorical question. Exactly what part of ALL MEN ARE CREATED EQUAL is not self-evident to republicans proudly calling Dixie home? And what group is above the law stating that our bodies are subject to rules and regulations? Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness have never been more in danger of regulation, restriction and repression. 

With these facts in mind I set out to compile a list of the elements and issues I consider worth reviewing for my voting process. That simple idea of course led to another and finally I had the grand plan of using the list as an outline which which to author and send to my congressman. THAT, as both Lessig and Thomas Jefferson would surely agree, is democracy in action. And I like to act. I like to be pro-active, to act before the actual act you might say. 

So here is the preliminary list of issues and my assessment of each. Regardless of your personality, seeing the glass as half full or half empty, what we really need right now are problem solvers, thinkers who don’t care about the label, but the content. Drink the water, regardless of what you call it it is the same amount. 

• ISSUE                    GRADE
• Environment           F
• Economy                F (Unless you are a millionaire) 
• Infrastructure          F
• Education               F
• Trade                      F
• Defense                  F (Unless you manufacture arms)
• Social Issues          F (Unless you own slaves)
• Women’s Issues     F (Unless you are a white male in Alabama)
• Gay Issues             F
• Crime                     F (Unless you carry a NRA card)
• Senior Issues         F
• Immigration           F (Unless you own a prison)
• Money in Politics   F (Unless you are a lobbyist)
• Hypocrisy              A
• Corruption             A
• Graft                      A
• Nepotism               A
• Obstruction           A

Seems self-evident to me. 

Presence vs Productivity

As is most often the case, the paradoxical reveals another and perhaps more important message. Take this one for example: Presence is more rewarding than productivity. Do you agree? Do you truly feel that by simply being aware of your current situation, with a satisfactory ratio of awareness to reality, that you will somehow no longer be required to produce tangible results? Or does your (as mine) distaste for the modern capitalistic model indicate other, more consciousness expanding possibilities? I hear the hum. 

Looking deeper into the semi-koan, it seems to me that one is dependent on the other much as moon is to sun, dark to light. By our practice of dissolving the regrets of the past, along with our anxieties of the future into the light of the now - a discipline we repeat about a thousand times a day - the success and maturity of the practice naturally leads us down the yellow brick road of creativity. Our very presence, the awareness of non-distraction, opens Huxley’s doors to perceptions previously unimagined. Or, as it came to John Lennon, imagine there’s no heaven. 

It takes presence to trust in this universal magic. One must sit with it, relax into it and let go of everything else that vies for our attention, often the very elements that define production; relentless effort, prioritization, efficiency, overtime, sacrifice, insurance, security, gross profits and margins, a robust 401K, quotas, savings, conservative strategies and predatorial  behaviors. This happens to the best of us. We lose our way as the game swings from being happy and high to being successful and responsible. A grand example of this is the failed social experiment of the demographic known as The Hippies. 

The Hippies, roughly 1964-1974, 1968 being the zenith, inadvertently created a social movement primarily as a backlash to an evil, immoral and unethical government backed war and the gross corruption of the politicians promoting it. They said tune out and turn on. Put peace, love and music at the forefront of consciousness and everything will be groovy. Free love and flowers for all who join our commune and don’t bogart that joint my friend. And it was the best thing ever! Until it became apparent about ten years into the utopia that what really made the world turn wasn’t pot and peace it was money and war. In response the hippie elders started to infiltrate the ‘real world’ taking jobs in sectors once considered obscene: Banking, government, law, real estate and even with defense contractors. The focus had shifted from the here and now of presence to the then and there of production. We had won couple of major battles but lost the war. We went peacefully into the good night. 

Yes we hippies (I proudly include my tenure) started a number of sustainable ideas, ecology, recycling, land use, organics, access to tools, communications, energy systems and philosophical and political possibilities of higher consciousness and non-violent revolution among them, but we all, eventually and sometimes painfully, traded in our faded Levis for Brooks Brothers blue blazers and joined the corporations we once marched against. Failure or evolution? Good change or bad? Victory or defeat? Natural selection of natural progression? 

We lost our way. We traded the present for the future. We got real - as society defies it - not as we once envisioned it. Power corrupted our dream, and absolute power corrupted it absolutely. Money was the new high. Who needs to meditate when you can manipulate? 

The paradox remains aptly metaphorical. If we can find the path of presence once again, the simple movement towards it will inspire the truthful creativity and compassion we carry inside us, unleashing a torrent of positive productivity the likes of which even us former Hippies would surely approve and encourage. Be Here Now. Present or productive? 

What could possibly be more peaceful and loving? 

Nowhere to Hide

I stand on a slab of white marble. It stretches as far as I can see in every direction. My feet tell me, as I wear no shoes, or indeed anything at all, that it is cold, solid and impenetrable. I look up and see a single puffy white cloud in the otherwise robin’s egg blue sky. I am alone, naked and now a little concerned about the meaning I am supposed to take from this dreamscape. As I consider this I am paralyzed by the reality the there is nowhere to hide. There is nothing, I suddenly realize, that I can do to insure my survival. I cannot dig in, find a cave, start a fire, find water or hunt game. There is no flora and no fauna. I have no tools, maps or equipment of any kind. I have nothing and I am nowhere.
I hear an echo of my thoughts, there is nowhere to hide. I could run, but why, the situation will remain bleak until I unlock its mystery and solve the problem.

I start to walk in a random direction with the destination totally unknown, I chuckle at the pun, thinking of the destiny part of destination. As I walk I become hyper aware of the one thing that I can control, my body. I feel my toes test every step and the chain reaction of my ankles, calves, knees, hip-flexors and quads. I feel my heart adapting to the effort and my mind in frantic search for comparatives, historical reference and solace. I decide to relax and almost immediately begin to add a rhythmic shuffle to the ball and change of my previous death march. If I am moving towards an ambush, disaster, or a snare trap, I will enjoy every second of the journey, this, my inner scout tells me, because there is no intel available, this is uncharted territory, the wilderness of the unknown. For all we know this could be the very path towards nirvana and enlightenment. All I have to do is stay calm and be aware. The fact that the only thing I have to be aware of are my thoughts and my body is a calming reality. Since there is nowhere to hide, as soon as I accept this circumstance as my current reality, I have uncovered another clue. I have unearthed a relic of this truth. Keep moving.

I have my thoughts and my body. Everything else exists only to show me this truth. The entire universe as we have come to interrupt and understand it, is one big mirror asking only that we look courageously into it, to deeply see what it actually is and who we are.

As I move towards the light in walking mediation, the importance of this moment creates a warmth in my chest, a glowing, comforting, positive and gentle ember of love. The transformation astounds me. Where I was once cold, naked and frightened, using no tools other than my thoughts and the orchestrated movements of my body, I now move with power and precision towards what I fully expect to be an abundance of awareness, energy and love.

I wake, stunned by the majesty of this nanosecond of eternity feeling refreshed and ready to move brightly into the new reality I have imagined.

There is nowhere to hide.

80/20

The 80/20 rule applies to video editing as well as training for triathlon. Its primary stipulation, the 80 part, states that success (in the form of completion) will be sooner realized if the bulk of the work, the mundane, the tedious filler content is laid down, assembled and done first. If, as an example, my goal is to create a one-hour video detailing and documenting a bicycle trip I would drag and drop media into the timeline in whatever order I choose, chronological, emotional or theatrical. Once that workmanlike effort of 80 is completed I can then retrace my steps adding the modern 20 of obligatory effects, filters, transitions, augmentations and texts. I find this a productive way to manage the flow, keep my interest high and energy focused.

It is interestingly similar to training for a sporting event. You have the race day circled on your calendar with a fat red sharpie. Working backwards from that date, you schedule blocks of time necessary for a safe and successful ramp up. You do the 80 percent as base building, adding the finishing touches of strategy, tactics, nutrition, taper and the sometimes frustrating logistics of travel into the mix. These days I find it rewarding to see the 80 percent in the form of consistency. If I can push my fitness even a tiny bit past the six days I currently train per week, I feel confident I can meet the event challenge with a high probability of success. There is, or should be, some fine print here. Professional miners of data would quickly point out that I am now in a demographic where our 80/20 ratio actually points out the sad fact that we have already beat 80 percent of those who began this crazy sport so many years ago through mere longevity and that now all that is required to win is to finish. Or that at any given event I stand an 80 percent chance of winning with only 20 percent of my former speed, power and endurance remaining. An interesting spin.

In either example, and I confess to slight exaggeration on the latter, the idea is to get the bulk of the work done first. Write the four verses to start and the chorus will almost write itself. Read ten classics before Robbins, McCarthy or Kerouac. Build your foundation first. Capture the media required to tell your story. Shoot to edit. Ride indoors until the sun shines and then take it out and let ‘er rip. Build your base through gradually increasing miles. With a solid base, gratitude and respect, your efforts will be returned to you in the form of satisfaction and accomplishment roughly 80 percent of the time.

The other 20 percent of the time you will be disappointed, sorry, but this happens. At the finish line of a video project or an Olympic Triathlon, if you are not satisfied with the results, go back to work and find a way to move the ratio closer to 70/30. Your foundation is build, start to gradually (or otherwise) add the details that will push the narrative of your story. Get faster. Add more detail. Make the decision to commit to championship levels. Be a pro. Be fearless and dedicated to your craft. Ensure that your awareness is always in the present tense.

Maybe your true ratio is closer to 50/50, where the bulk is already done and all that is holding you back is either a poor ACQ or lack of adequate tools, training or equipment. Please also remember that luck is the residue of design.

If your creative attitude and athletic character quotient is currently ‘on’ 80 percent of the time, you will achieve whatever goals you have established for yourself.

If you would like to test this theory, take today and use it as an experiment of one. Pretty simple, answer the following question with brutal honesty:

Are you using 80 percent of your time today pushing your personal, creative and athletic agenda?

Choose One

To focus on gathering the low hanging fruit while ignoring the tree’s root system is a quick fix, focus instead on what lies beneath the surface and strengthen the roots of the tree, its core. That will naturally provide both a strong and sustainable trunk as well as a bountiful harvest. 

I sit jotting notes for this morning’s spin class. The theme where culture beats strategy. Sure, a solid strategy backed by inspirational tactics from a motivated leader is important, but even the best strategies and their means fail. The culture of the team, squad, class, community then has the power provided by its reputation, legacy and traditions, to carry that ethos forward. Without this rock-solid foundation, its is almost impossible to build successfully upward. Semper fidelis becomes just Latin mumbo-jumbo and ‘Don’t Tread On Us’ a hollow and pithy cliche. 

We must develop clear understandings of the chasm separating judgment from indifference. With reality based, intrepid introspection we, with brutal honesty, judge our motivations, intentions and subsequent actions, asking all the while if these responses represent our highest truths and most important goals. If not, we adjust, make the necessary changes and judge them again until we create them, as they say, ‘just so.’ We instinctively recognize when this situation has been achieved. Our heads inform us, our hearts open and our souls validate. We have known this since the stone age as ‘gut instinct.’ One’s entire body responds in the affirmative by releasing powerful chemicals into the bloodstream to assist the effort, our heart rate quickens sending oxygen-rich blood to the brain to support critical thought. We are now super-capable. We have the ways and means, a noble strategy, brilliant tactics and the respect for those that have led us to this day. We judge all this to be proper, just, necessary and in the service of humanity. We are devoid of ego, greed, corruption and the lust for power. 

The far side of that chasm is the mountain of indifference. Where the fat and lazy sit in comfort and convenience wanting only their prestige to continue. 

We can pick one side or the other. There is nothing but air between these two sides of the deep river valley. We have as yet to devise a way to hoover like a drone half way from judgment and half way from indifference. One cares or one does not care. One implies passion and valor and the other the cult of ignorance. 

Choose courageously. As Steppenwolf so rockingly proclaimed over fifty years ago, ‘It’s never too late to start all over again.’ Be brutally honest, be judgmental and decide. 

Choose one. 

Ownership on the Fly

There are precious few things for which I assume ownership. I rent. I borrow and I barter. But true ownership?

There is a modern spin on assuming responsibility for one’s actions that includes the political psychology of ‘taking ownership of’ one’s thoughts, actions and responses. To anything and for everything. Additionally, a few elite programs go as far as to suggest that taking ownership is the number one tactic to achieve status of seal, saint or what is referred to as the superior man in Chinese divination, what has been called ‘a release from a discredited science and rationalism…a relation between the individual and his worlds undreamt of in the schemes of social engineers.’ Own THAT sailor!

Obviously we are not talking about paying cash for a car and driving it away. What we are taking about - or could be depending on your point of reference - is everything else. Assuming responsibility for your health and fitness, your awareness, your graceful movements through time and space, your word, your morals and ethics, your stewardship and environmentalism, your tolerance, your compassion, and your gratitude to forgiveness ratio. I could go on, citing myriad details, the fine print of ownership in such esoteric areas as love, relationships, work, service, stress management, etc. but I will assume that here, at the crossroads of buying and selling, you are a motivated buyer.

As I am. Cash in hand.

Yet, as the confessional window slides open, I continue to make the same mistakes ad naseum. Mea maxima culpa. On a strange dimorphic Mobius strip surface, I am the fly. Life is the swatter. Should I decide (science has yet to award savant status to the housefly) to stay in my present circumstance, not heed the warnings, see the innuendo and learn from the mistakes of the past, I will end up splattered. A sentient life ended as a direct result of inability to change.

My inability to effectively deal with my addictions will cause similar results. There. Have I taken ownership? No, not quite. While a noble attempt, this is still the first phase. I swim in the river of denial. It has been my working motto that I can, and please tell me if this sounds familiar, work hard, be socially responsible, help others, pay my bills and taxes, do no harm, stay curious and creatively connected, exercise regularly, eat as good as budget will allow and be generally happy…and end every day with a ration of low alcohol pale ale. I was appalled when this seemingly benign habit was professionally diagnosed as an ‘alcohol dependent’ status by the staff given the assignment by my cardiology department to investigate the pathology of my ‘non cardiological symptoms’, or what we call in layman’s terms, feeling like shit all the time. Flies gather.

They, the good docs, found nothing to report other than the box on the questionnaire asking for number of drinks per day. Where it seems that I fall into a category of dependency as a result of my consumption (where I double the daily allowable volume of two). Yikes. Cause a guy to drink.

Yet I know this to be true. Last night was another example of what happens when I, innocent of criminal intent, said something in a twisted attempt at humor, that was so inappropriate and flat-out stupid that there followed the dreaded ‘pregnant pause’ of disbelief. I had done it again. Lubricated by over consumption and free to embarrass, I took full advantage and won another instant Oscar for best supporting actor playing the fool. In front of an audience of friends I sincerely adore.

The reason is that I will not take ownership for it. I will find something else or someone else to blame. I will portend that my three workout sessions during the day serve as legitimate reasons to ‘celebrate’. I will offer that the relentless psychic stress of this day and age provide a prescription for self medication and that should I choose sobriety during this global nightmare, insanity would surely ensue. So I rationalize that being drunk is better than being crazy. Damn, even Hobson would choose a beer!

This is all bullshit and a total cop-out, however accepted by our over-caffeinated, over-medicated, on-edge society.

Take ownership. Or be splattered.

Ring

Sometimes, and I will add the cautionary pejorative of sometimes actually referring to right now, one must do the very thing that scares him or her the most. One must stand up and stare into the eyes of the monster that we have created and ask for permission to engage. What I have found along the ruff and rocky timeline of my experience is that the answer is always yes, of course you can. Let’s get it on.

This is shadow boxing in a full length three dimensional mirror. It isn’t an ogre, demon or fascist wanna-be dictator we step into the ring with, it is us versus us. Me versus me and an I for an I. We invent a thousand reasons why we shouldn’t, could never or would not willingly do the thing we have established as impossible. Colloquially we call this foe fear. Poetically, the face of fear. Street slang has called it being chicken well before the debate of reasons for crossings or who came first. The vast majority of us simply do not takes risks. The furthest we travel from our comfort zones is demanded by law or in an actual emergency. We will stay on the couch, attached by powerful adhesives to the big screen, even as fires approach, bombs drop and people we should care about are rounded-up, incarcerated, tortured and abused so thoroughly that death seems like an upgrade.

You realize that all this is taking place as we speak, no?

You realize that the metaphor of taking responsibility for your own health, fitness and ability to separate fact from fantasy, information from propaganda and truth from lies is not a metaphor at all but a call to arms. A challenge. For, as has been suggested, should you not form an opinion of your own, one will be appointed to you. Should you decide to not speak up when faced with the persecution, restriction, abuse, segregation or other violations of our social liberties IN 21ST CENTURY AMERICA, you have lost that important battle with your soul. You have made the choice of no choice and decided that it is a bridge too far and you’ll just sit this one out, thank you very much and please grab me a soda on your way back. By doing so you become complicit, an unwitting ally of the party hell-bent of controlling you, your body, your money and your vote.

I will fight to the death on this. If you intend to use hate, fear, anger, racism, xenophobia, bigotry, deceit, the Bible, the Koran, military might, deception or despair as ways and means to push an agenda of white supremacy, patriotism and nationalism, you will have to go through me first to get at my neighbor, (who is of course a black, homosexual, liberal, pro-choice Muslim intellectual.)

All this suggested with a simple solution.

DO THE HARD STUFF. Get used to it, up your game, practice it like there is no tomorrow. Relentlessly. Get tough. Man up and Cowgirl up.

This morning we climbed one hill in class. One. I addressed the need to continually monitor awareness and presence. Know where you are, preform a situation report every ten seconds or as often as necessary to keep your mind in perfect sync with the effort your body is producing. Call on your soul and ask for a special favor. See what develops. We can build from the intel. Keep after it. Find a flow state that will align the three regimental divisions of your personal army, your body, your mind and your spirit (spiritual weapons and tactics).  They are unbeatable together. Their separation is the enemy, it is the battle we fight and the face of that devil whom we step into the good fight with.

I know this can be scary. In all actuality we should not have to do it. It is supported to be Paradise. But we have been assailed by greed, corruption and the lust for power. We must be strong. We need to practice, to be prepared and ready when the bell rings sounding the start of the next round.

Ring.

Neurosis

It is a frightening thought. I am working diligently on the video, compelling media, assembling clips to the story line, trying to tell a visual story about a bicycle trip. This is not my first cinematic rodeo so I am familiar with the unique challenges of roping the runaway calf. As you know I cut video with one goal in mind, to get it done, document it, try to make it interesting and entertaining. I use no audio. I do it quickly, making edit decisions on the fly. I have a format and a template designed specifically to provide both structure and censure. Under this design I am free to add whatever media I feel might raise an eyebrow or lower a boom. Amazingly I have finished sixty-six of these forty-five minute tributes to energy and motion. They are all connected at the id by our love of the bicycle, exercise, the out-of-doors and the dynamic flow of our life force. But here the plot, like any decent risotto or polenta, thickens.

I had a gal friend once, a talented jeweler who created incredible works of art suitable for accessorizing with any wardrobe. She was constantly experimenting with fusions of varying materials, medias, gems and other elements in order to test the boundaries that constrain art and possibility. One day as we looked over her portfolio, I commented on a somewhat gaudy necklace she had made several years prior. It was beautifully photographed, a black velvet backdrop with a single sparkle emitting from one of the many diamonds. She commented as I admired the work that she could see her neurosis in it. And this caught my attention like a fly in the spiders web.

That incident was several years ago but its message has remained to this day.

The distance between what we do here, the daily download of collected thoughts, fears, dreams, phobias, rhyming couplets of hope and search for meaning, while generalized as writing, is not far from what we do with video. Matter of fact it is the very same thing. It is my telling a story. I can reveal everything or as much as I feel safe, comfortable and satisfied with. At the top of the list of desired results from this labor of love are, in no special order, improvement, introspection, analysis, documentation and experimentation. Much like those guests yesterday who, along with their brilliance and creative energy, left a mess for me to clean up, one must be prepared to face a mixed bag of critical response.

It is with all this in mind, the juxtapositional transfer of cellular energy to the written word or the moving image, that a thought popped up this morning as I distractedly placed my favorite coffee mug into the microwave,

…what if my neurosis is seen in my video?

They Would Insist

Julia Cameron, Cormac McCarthy, Steven Kotler, Chris Petersen, Jerry Garcia, Melissa Etheridge, Gioachino Rossini, Maynard G. Krebs and Malcom Gladwell are sitting on my deck having lunch. It is a gorgeous day in the Pacific Northwest. I have whipped up some saffron risotto and boiled a pot of jumbo shrimp. The shrimp is overloaded with buttered garlic. It smells like a party and I have taken the politically correct high road in selecting Dave Brubeck and Aretha Franklin as featured artists to accompany the day’s festivities. 

I am wafting through the small group offering Perrier, Stone Go-To IPA and a delicate Italian Frascati as refreshment. As I do I overhear some of the conversation resulting from the group. One can almost feel the creative energy and positive group vibe rising from them like dancing fireflies. 

The new stuff is awesome.

Involves meeting challenge and developing skills.

Every fucking day. 

Given my choice of i-alliterative, I’ll take imprisonment over impeachment or indictment. 

Wealth contains the seeds of its own destruction. 

One never knows what worse luck one’s bad luck has kept him from. 

He was one cool cat. I miss that innocence.

Listen to the pocket groove Morello is laying down here.

I’m like lost…doomed. 

A beautiful rainbow of people.

Simple melody and variety of rhythm.

I mean whatever kills you kills you, and your death is authentic no matter how you die.

Stands for Our Kinda Guy. 

Just take a look around and listen, really listen, that is it, that is the essence. 

Serving tray empty I return to the kitchen for another round. 

One of my favorite Brubeck tunes starts up and I smile. 

What a great mix. 

I must take something away from this gathering, take the energy from idle to high, tap the creative juice of my brilliant guests. I fell sure they would approve. 

I also feel they would insist.