List of Top Ten 'Sure Things'

Yesterday’s post was weak. Seriously, how difficult of a literary chore is compiling a list? If you quick-responded a variant of ‘not very’, you win. But you also lose. This is due to the data suggesting that as easy as lists are to assemble, literally on any subject, they are also fun to read. We love lists. Give me your top ten on anything and I will guarantee an audience. Some in that readership even motivated to comment, augment or like. The only thing keeping a good list from being a great one is subject matter. Here we see the sage advice of ‘knowing your audience’, to be as sure a thing as Vegas allows. 

Let’s roll with that. 

My top ten sure things (done Letterman style):

• 10) The sun will shine tomorrow. (Unless you happen to live in Seattle where the odds are pretty much 50/50 every day of the year)
• 9) Shit will happen. (Or quoting the legendary life-coach Stella Adler, “Life interludes.”
• 8) Your passion, meaning and purpose must be a life or death issue. (If you are not yet sure of this curtail everything right now, slam the ABS brakes full-stop and find out). 
• 7) It is absolutely essential that three elements highlight your personal quality of life combination: Diet, exercise and stress management. (Nothing more needs be said).
• 6) Do no harm is a sure thing when it comes to religious ideology. (Golden Rule as a sure thing).
• 5) If you plant ice you’re gonna harvest wind. (Franklin’s Tower, Blues for Allah, Robert Hunter, Grateful Dead, 1977).  
• 4) If you are looking for sure things do NOT watch or bet on College Football. (Unless your mortgage is paid).
• 3) Your response to any circumstance, situation or conversation is what makes you you. (surely).
• 2) It is more important to appreciate the present path than to arrive at whatever place you once called the destination. (Or, the road is the goal).
• 1) There are no sure things. (Keep your head up, nose clean and eyes open).

And No Ifs

I could get a lot done today if …………………

If it was warmer and I didn’t have to wear my flight jacket inside.

If I didn’t have to gas up my rig and do laundry. 

If the dogs could walk and feed themselves. 

If I hadn’t committed TEN YEARS ago to writing a blog entry every freaking day.

If I didn’t have these deadlines and obligations.

If my rent wasn’t due tomorrow.

If my stomach was flatter. 

If my refrigerator was full of local produce. 

If trump was in jail.

If Garcia was releasing a new vinyl lp this week. 

If the Huskies hadn’t layed an egg against Cal.

If my screenplay was a page away from completion.

If the video was done.

If my heart rate was regular.

If she would call. 

If I was planning a trip to Sicily.

If I had a massage scheduled later today.

If my Samurai sword would arrive today.

If my spin classes were standing room only like the old days.

If I was still employed.

If I could play Chopin’s Piano Concerto Number 1, Opus 11.

If my Italian was un po ‘meglio. 

If the world was a perfect place and I didn’t have to be general manager of operations. 

I will get a lot done today, for the simple fact that there is a lot to be done. The litany of excuses itemized above are present moment vampires cunningly disguised as urgent matters needing immediate attention. I have one objective today and one tactic for its achievement: Place relaxed and focused attention on what must be done. 

Then do it. No ands, buts and especially............ no ifs. 

Genre du Jour

This guy rocks

Interesting set this Saturday morning. Thinking that a new direction, at least for a day, might offer a new challenge, I spun some hot jazz on the group. And why the heck not? After all we have played the classical, Beethoven and Rossini, the big bands featuring Count Basie and Buddy Rich, so the timing felt right for a visit to the masters of improvisation, those that I very well may appreciate the most, as 'pure' musicians. The Jazzmasters. Here is a sample. 

We have been conditioned , and I assume a lot of the credit for this on a local basis, to rely on standard 4/4 time as a musical accompaniment to our indoor cycling sessions. We all know and love the metronomic 4/4 time of classic rock n roll. It is so ingrained into our understanding of athletic syncopation that anything outside of it, say the fusion of Steely Dan or the improv made popular by jam bands from the Dead to Phish represents an interesting challenge to our accepted, default, cadence norms. What the heck do we do with this? If, as accepted, the goal is to seek the nebulous and mysterious place known as the groove zone, how does one absorb an intentional deviation of standard time signatures while searching for it? When 1-2-3-4 morphs, incredibly, into something resembling an intentional increase of beats within the measure, as 12/8 time does, how should that affect our search for dynamic flow? 

If one has grown so accustomed to a standard response to a standard rhythm, what happens, as it frequently does, when that beat goes rogue? Further, isn’t that the goal? To seek the magic and strive towards expressions previously considered taboo, for whatever pop culture reasons? 

I think it is. To seek the magic. 

What happens when the wind blows in your face as you struggle to find an uphill cadence appropriate for the climb? What is your response, as was so eloquently expressed to me yesterday by one of our riders on the road to adventure when one is blessed with a ‘kiss of a tailwind?’ 

It is always in our response. Good, bad, a kiss or a slap in the face, whatever gets tossed our way, in the cycle studio or out on the road, will eventually be resolved as a result of our response. Personally I am used to things not going exactly as I had initially planned. There are simply too many variables that are out of our control. What do we do with that?

Ii is all ultimately up to you. If it is important to you, get it done. Do not give up, give in, surrender or back down. When things are at their worst it is the time for us to do our best. Get used to this. It is as close to an absolute as we can find. Shit happens. Deal with the reality of your now and, simply, do what must be done. Find the groove. 

No matter the time signature or genre du jour. 

By That Much

THAT much Chief

Holding right index finger roughly a quarter of an inch, 6.35 mm, from right thumb, indicating the distance from current status to future one, I say aloud ‘I am ‘this’ close’. Risking the obvious imagery of Maxwell Smart’s ‘missed it by ‘that’ much’, the reference is to the social media site favored by over 2.7 billion people, owned by some guy named Zukerburg and often the go-to medium for manufactured propaganda of every subservient order, crack-pots to auto bots. It is not so bad that my messages, responses and comments are commonly taken out of context or, worse, ignored, the larger issue is the one of privacy. If my innocent google searches are used as marketing data to exploit a cause or causes that I am in complete disagreement with, or to garner numerical support for a candidate or policy issue or be included in a poll used for sheer propaganda, it have problems with it. BIG ones. 

Not that I have anything to hide, mind you. I think, I genuinely hope and trust, that my ideologies, beliefs, ambitions and goals are known to all. I make no attempts at covert operations. I will tell it to your face, not try to pick your digital pocket and then sell the data back to you. There is no deep state here. We do not gaslight and we do not spin alternative truths. We (mostly) respect the opinion of those in disagreement with our agendas, be they political, religious or scientific. In turn, please respect mine. 

But things have taken a radical turn for the violent. That is the line in the sand I will not cross. I have no problem with you chowing down on a quarter-pounder with cheese (because it's all you can afford) when I promote a vegetarian diet. Similarly, if you choose to love another of the same sex, have at it, love is the goal. If you want to courageously improve the living conditions of those included in your family, I respect you for your decision and bravery. If you want to pursue a life in the military, I salute you, although I want you to be cognizant of the political nature of the assignment. How hypocritical would it be of me to suggest that YOU reduce YOUR consumption and ride a bike when I regularly drive my four-cylinder cargo van just for a loaf of bread? You want to worship Allah, Mohammad, Buddha, Smith, Jesus or Yahweh as your Lord and Savior? Amen brother. Do what you like but please do not force me to do likewise. 

In this eloquent article by respected pastor John Pavlovitz, I see common ground. Read through his bullet point listings and see if you draw the same conclusion that I did. We are being used. I am a far-left radical libtard because I would like to see more love and less hate, more happiness and less fear, more sharing and less hoarding, more equality and less greed, more peace and less war, better schools and fewer jails, more compassion and less angst? REALLY?

The fact that when leftists default to their basic core beliefs, it is all good. It may not align perfectly with modern capitalistic objectives and be nowhere near a nativist, isolationist, bullying dictatorship, and that is the point. When right-wing conservatives default to core values it is all propaganda, lies, bullshit and cover-ups. Think about fiscal conservatism and family values then gauge the current allegiance to GOP traditions. 

Does social media play into this scenario? Does social media manipulate the data from cookies, google searches and is Alexa keeping score? 

A concerned liberal populace wants you to know that we are this close. 

Bombs Away

That three day diatribe was kinda fun. Tossing f-bombs as if they were candy from a parade float seemed cathartic at the time. Venting steam, the pressure of which was building rapidly towards critical mass, prevented, or at least delayed, the inevitable confrontation with reality. Such is the world we inhabit today. This is what happens when truth is devalued. It is what takes place the minute we compromise ethics, morals and the most basic of positive human characteristics, kindness, for the sake of political power, gross profits and exploitation of the weak and oppressed. 

I will fess-up to the fact that after my scathing commentary yesterday on the state of the state, I felt a little dirty. Pointing light on the dark atrocities, high crimes and felonies of the current administration, all that have led us to this critical moment of truth, as formal impeachment proceedings risk a political blowback from either the base of fear or the constituents of hope, is a slimy reminder that those in absolute power face the challenge of being absolutely corrupted. These guys are so dirty, such cowardly bullies that they regularly break the law to enforce their own personal code of dis-honor. These are swine rolling in the mud of a thousand lies. They are betting on the fact that they have enough political control of lawyers, judges, senators and a rabid base of fearful bigots all screaming for blood, that they can shoot anybody on Fifth Ave with complete exoneration. They feel above the law. 

It is our duty to defend our democracy. Our rule of law at this critical moment, our very way of life and the code for which we stand, is fighting for its life against this deep state hostile takeover of our values. We are out gunned, out manned and they have the upper ground. They are out to destroy our government (starting with the free press) its 240 years of constitutional law and return it to the last remaining robber barons, the very thieves who have manipulated the system in order to pay no taxes, serve no masters and see no evil. These are the guys who drum up faux patriotism to send our kids to wars whose sole purpose is to enrich defense contractors and oil conglomerates. They are the soulless bastards who don’t mind a little grade school collateral damage at the hands of white domestic terrorists wielding fully automatic military grade weapons. These are the guys who rig elections and are terrified about losing the next one if only Americans can vote. They are bought, sold, and traded by the lobbyists willing to turn American blood, sweat and labor into cash. 

The leader of this mob is a pathological liar, a bully, a cheat, and pond scum the proportions of which dwarf the Pacific and Atlantic oceans combined. He regularly pours kerosene on his rhetorical fires calling for action with taunts of violence against the very people he swore an oath to protect. His job is to unite and he steals from the military to build walls, fences and detention centers. He openly suggests that there are very fine people on the side of fascist white supremacists, anti-gay bigots, and a well armed militia killing innocent people at concerts, dances, events and public gatherings. He sleeps with CEOs wanting to exploit and pollute our fragile environment for riches. He, they, are thugs. Whores sucking up to the few ancient, white curmudgeons whose mission statements read like KKK manifestos. 

Yet somehow we find ourselves at the crossroads. They are about to be held accountable by the laws of our land and the constitution under which we self rule. This is a critical moment in American history. We can take it back, return to a democracy based upon fairness for all or we can allow their lies, fears, misdirections and manipulations to add another layer of oppression atop the ones we currently own. 

I do not want a life where it is dependent on the suffering of others to succeed. I do not want my liberty to come from its exemption from others. I do not want my pursuit of happiness to be accompanied by the suffering of those struggling to simply survive. 

There is an existing myth that public sentiment pushes this process. That process is happening as we speak. It is the process of finding the truth, the depth of our national character and the compromises being demanded of us by a fledgling dictatorship. The process called impeachment. The I-Bomb. 

And its time has come. Bombs Away. 

Well THAT worked!

Well, THAT, worked out OK!

Like sunlight streaming through the old growth, could it be the magical, 'ask and ye shall receive?' factor at work? I don’t know. But I will try my luck. You bet your sweet bippy I will. The backstory, all the way from yesterday (things are moving fast around here) you will recall started not-so-innocently with my rather aggressive instructions to the Speaker of the House (but everyone knows her as Nancy) demanding that impeachment proceedings against the dumbest fuck ever to hit the big time (and all he had to do was act naturally) begin immediately.

Later that same day, she did and they were. ZOUNDS! We did it! The chaos has officially started and with any luck at all we might have political entertainment for the next 17 months or so. Won’t THAT be fun? Right.

It was reported by credible sources that HWWBI, he who will be impeached, called Ms Speaker late last night asking if they might be able to ‘work something out.’ I ended up laughing so hard when I first heard this that I ended up crying. OMG, work ‘something’ out? Like in exchange for covering up a treasonous attempt at using taxpayer money as a mob-style strong-arm bribe to get Benghazi-like dirt on a political opponent for, say, what, a weekend junket to Mar-a-Lago? I am truly surprised that somewhere in the phony transcript that fellow felon Barr whipped up last night didn’t contain some reference to an offer that couldn’t be refused. Fuck oh dear, what’s next, taking out the heads of the five families? You want a deal don? How about this one: You and that homophobic nincompoop VP resign immediately and we’ll see about getting you a light sentence. The imagery of these two chump-hackers in jumpsuits being ‘used’ by Bubba and Chico in Gitmo lock-up is almost too much for my delicate sense of justice to take. Almost.

In case you haven’t already beat me to the punch (line) and figured out what this scenario would mean to the free world, let’s take a closer look at the sugar-sweet irony.

HWWBI and pence resign in tandem, as announced by America’s former mayor and current ghoul Rudy G. on twitter and Faux news. President>Vice President> SPEAKER OF THE HOUSE> Senate pro-tem.

This is so delicious. I can almost taste it. Strawberry Fields of karmic joy Forever. Wild Honey Pie. Savoy Truffles with sea-salt and Sgt Peppers. Coo-coo-ca fucking choo.

Let’s keep the universe smiling upon us and roll the mojo dice with the hot-hand. The streak, currently at one, will thusly be tested by the following command from the brave in the land of the free:

Resign motherfucker.

Clear Enough?

One of the most important goals in writing, for the screen to science fiction, from a white paper to journaling, is to make your point clear for the reader. Easy to understand. Unambiguous and unmistakable. That is (one of the many) reasons what we love so much about Vonnegut, Hemingway, Morrison and McCarthy. Crisp as a Winesap and clear as a cloudless day in the mountains. Certainly subject matters, but whatever the story and its arc of character development, dramatic conflict and eventual resolution, the requirement for clarity outweighs them all. Am I making myself clear? 

With this in mind, something bothered me yesterday most of the afternoon. It was simply this: Had I made my point? Was my ‘message’ received in the same light in which it was offered? Had I contributed to a positive result? Was it necessary? Was it true? Was it important? Did it prod someone towards the intended action? Did it inspire, motivate or educate? Failing these, was it humorous, did it offer a brief distraction from the workaday stress and overt pressures we all endure on a relentless basis? Was it a message of love, hope, faith, friendship or compassion? Did it tell an interesting or heroic story? Was it compelling and accurate? Did it adequately represent a portion of reality, debunk a myth or dispel a rumor? Was it just the facts or was it wildly embellished with unnecessary rhetorical verbiage gleaned from the thesaurus? Was it the truth?

Or, one could argue, does any of that really matter? If one (looking straight into the mirror) is spending valuable time in this practice, taking the path of introspection and sharing the results of regular analysis in order to present them, share them, for consideration, streaming consciousness warts and all, do specific formatting rules even apply? If I report a headache and spell-check edits it as heartache, am I still whining? Do you really care about (,) or ( ). ? 

I share this with you because yesterday I went to a place that was very uncomfortable. I don’t like to complain, I see no need to echo the obvious and pointing fingers at high-profile celebrities is the last way I want to spend my time. Yes I did it yesterday and paid the emotional price almost immediately afterwards. Not because I felt slimy about publishing gossip or that I may have too casually spit a vulgarity, but because I may have failed to express my thoughts adequately. Important and timely thoughts having to do with the fate of our planet. Did I get my message across? Did you hear what I hear? Will we act before it is too late? My voice here might be as important as my vote. At least it is to me. 

It is difficult for me to accept that we are not up in arms, marching in the streets and united in objection to the fascist corruption taking place in broad daylight in literally our own backyard. Someone is stealing our democracy, it is covered on the evening news and our response is to vilify a 16 year-old girl from Sweden for telling the truth? 

We as a country, the UNITED States, absolutely suck. This president is the King of Corruption. He is aided and abetted by a cabal of complicit criminals, all on the take, and all silent in this sinister plot to destroy our democracy and install a dictatorship in its place. A new puppet government of America where money is the God in which we trust. Judges are appointed, hateful walls built, tariffs raised, children caged, raids increased, journalists murdered, bribes sanctioned, eco-systems burning, wars started, land confiscated, oceans polluted, domestic terrorism ignored, media controlled, jails jammed, coverups launched, guns locked and loaded, women assaulted, education curtailed, gerrymandering increased, gaslighting turbo-charged, white supremacy meet-ups, and brutal treatment of everyone not a cracker conservative and fifty rich. Hunter Biden I will now quote: Fuck you Mr President. 

This has to stop folks. I am looking at you Nancy. Initiate impeachment proceedings TODAY. Step up Jerry. Keep after it Adam. And the rest of us?

MAKE YOUR VOICES HEARD and MAKE THE MESSAGE CLEAR. 

Clear enough? 

A Soul in Crisis

Fortunately, I can say this with hope, sincerity and pride: it is an emotional paradox, the likes of which I have never experienced. In an odd way this predicament, being a new one to me, is testing the limits of my spiritual range, as well as my patience. You may call it reality, or ‘just the way things are’, or any number of other equally ridiculous compromises to sanity, but I call it a serious, code-red, five-alarm crisis of the soul. If you were thinking that my issue(s) are of the potus and his propensity to orchestrate events that can only be labeled as evil, you are wrong. Or, more accurately, not exactly right. (They are evil.)

I am perplexed, saddened and dramatically irritated at the people that find all this amusing. To be sure, his actions have been fodder for some delicious memes and headlines, but I, for one, am sickened by the callousness and laissez faire attitudes assumed by (depending on which poll you subscribe to) between 36 and 42 percent of the population. That is a kilo of hate and a ton of fear. I believe the entire US Senate to be complicit in the high crimes and misdemeanors that this administration (let’s call it more accurately a crime syndicate) enacts on a daily basis. I am truly and deeply saddened that this demographic actually agrees and even APPROVES of the colossally catastrophic crap perpetuated by this openly fascist dictatorship. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK????? 

That is why it hurts so much at both the cellular level and where it really matters, in our collective souls. The soul of America. Where there was once dignity, where once lived adherence to a Bill of Rights and a Constitution, where we respected the opinions of others, and where we once stood firmly on the platform of freedom, hope and trust, we now hang on for our very lives. Or the lives of our children in schools fortified against violent and lethal second amendment wackos, or children of color in lockups at the border, or our gay friends, women, seniors, vets, the disabled, or anyone other than old, white, rich sons-of-riches. You cannot smell this stench? I have cleansed my social media accounts of anyone spewing violent rhetoric towards my brothers, my sisters, my tribe and my home. By home I mean the planet Earth, not his insular, upper-class enclave of privilege where I can barely afford to rent a room. 

Please understand that I do not seek your forgiveness. If you overtly or are otherwise silent, and thereby complicit, actively agree with the agenda, or do so for purely power and profit, if you condone, assist, abet, or in any way contribute to this unholy current assault on American secular values, do not be surprised when you find me identifying you as a part of the problem. I am sorry this is the case. I fully realize this to be part of their insidious plan to divide and conquer, but this is urgent and we need to reestablish the loyalty to the morals, ethics and integrity we once considered characteristics to be cherished and admired. Not bought and sold for political and personal gain. Please tell me you see the difference and are appalled by the regularity with which it is violated. Please. 

We are in a real mess. America today is a cesspool of corruption. We are being sucked dry by scum ten levels lower than black mold. It is time we begin the clean-up process. I don’t care if it’s red or blue*, conservative or liberal*, black or white. It simply has to be right. For everyone, not just those whose soulless greed and inhumanity ignores the plight of the common man and discriminates against the common man of a different race, religious creed or darker color. The reality of this makes my head hurt and heart ache.  

Mine is a soul in crisis. 

* Actually I care a lot, but the point stands. 

Under No Circumstances

For many years now I had adhered to a mantra of-sorts that asks a single, simple question. It is the quality question, the yin, relentlessly asking - because it is always a question of quality - my current, present amount of sloppiness. The yang component is the equally binary question (very popular in my spin classes) asking under what conditions I/we will quit. With these two sides of the same coin, each as important to themselves as to the other, we have an opportunity to access the whole. Because you can’t have one without the other. One cannot display sloppy attention to detail in broad daylight and think it will be covered by surrender and retreat in the moonlight of midnight when no one is watching.

This includes not only our attention to the nuances of diet, exercise and stress management, but everything that happens for us (as compared to 'to us') from the moment we hit the clean and polished bedroom floor to the time we lift our weary feet back off it at the day’s triumph end. Take a single moment to consider what this means to you. Our treatment of animals, our food choices (please do not kill animals for food), the choices we make regarding our energy usage, the ways we impact ecology, climate change, over-production, totalitarian capitalism, democracy, geo-politics, systemic persecution of minorities, access to education, gun control, white supremacy……I could go on for six or seven pages. Point being that every day we have many opportunities to speak our truth and have a voice in the that direction our society moves.

If you have been following along you will instantly recognize one of our most important tenants to be the one suggestion that leaders lead by example, not by bellicose and belligerent manipulation of the media, but by walking the walk. Going into difficult situations to gauge firsthand the depth, perplexity and timeliness of a proper response. And then going about the difficult action of creating an opportunity for change. To make it better, to fix the circumstance and ensure that underlying complexities causing the issue are addressed as well. All of this starts with trust in the system.

And right now, this moment in time on our watch, trust is a rarity. Especially where we need it most. We need to trust in ourselves that as a united populace we can create change. Make no mistake folks, the current administration wants to divide us. They want the dividing wedge driven deep. They do not want your trust, they want their power and greed continued. And they will do anything to get it. This is not good.

As I sat and watched another cable news moderator complain about the lack of focused response by the Democrats to the latest scandal (the one about a nefarious Ukraine quid pro quo), it occurred to me that the real power lies with us. I for one, question my ability to maintain the high-alert status that has already taken the souls of many of my brothers through the manipulation of the tactic they call resistance-fatigue. They will try to bludgeon us with assaults on our morality, ethics, decency and basic humanity until we give up. As another dozen lackeys are appointed to lifetime positions asking nothing but loyalty to the boss as job requirements.

And we get sloppy. And we consider running away, waving a white flag in retreat. The sloppier we get the easier it is to hide.

So I ask this of myself today. Stay vigilant, stay present, see the power in resiliency and dedication to core values. Find a way to smile and console those who have been hit. Leave no one behind. And under no circumstances surrender.

Cecilia and Julio

Where have you gone Joe D?

Margin for error. It seems to funnel down to nothing but a spout  or spigot these days. Fragile, delicate and/or critical. Football is like that, especially the college game (I don’t  bother with the crass commercialism and overt capitalistic racism of the pro game), as is finding the tenuous balance that separates an overload from a perfect amount. Known as the straw that breaks the camels back, when we try to do too much, often times the result is a camel in traction. But how the heck are we to know? 

We try and we go and we take copious notes all the while. We match up the empirical with the existing and test the waters of change. This is called training with intensity. It is also called living broadly. Going for the wide experience instead of the safe, common and status quo. This can be painful. Because more often than not, we fail, get hurt emotionally and only hear the lesson that suggests taking the path of least resistance as the best route.  One of the moist interesting  rock n roll stanzas of all time (yes I know there have been many) belongs to Paul Simon with his absolutely astute observation that ‘if I never loved I never would have cried.’ A rock feels no pain. 

But we must love and hence we are bound and doomed to cry. That, dear friends (Cecilia and Julio included) is how we learn and grown. For every Ms Robinson there is a Joe DiMaggio, in as much as (I suppose) for every Graduate there are a couple of dropouts. 

I challenge you to experiment with this concept. How hard, how long, at what intensity and for what duration are you capable of going, doing and being? 

In our experiment this morning we visited (again) the upper limits of this equation. We call them high-intensity intervals and they are the spiritual equivalent of high-energy individuals. You know immediately of what, or of whom,  I speak. There are those in relentless search of optimal positive vibration and those that seem to be on a mission to suck it all from the room like vampires on speed. 

We work on the continual improvement of our physical intensities as well as the emotional and spiritual. What else is there to practice? Why not establish a regular routine with it? Move in the direction of the light (a vibration) and once obtained, hold onto it as long as possible. This pure energy is what we are made of. It needs to be celebrated and honored as the life force that it truly is. Julio knew very well the risk he was taking. 

Are you doing this? Are you doing this every day? Are you doing this every day at the appropriate intensity levels for your place in this time?  Are you appreciative of the holistic balance produced and are you sending outward the powerful examples of your leadership? There was an important march yesterday, did you go? 

Up your intensity level. Increase your vibration. Go first. Do not allow energy vampires on your bus. And if they should manage to sneak aboard, compassionately show them the way forward. 

I know this is not easy, I struggle with it every day. 

And that Cecilia, is why we practice. Ask Joe. 

The Wheel

The opening sentence caught my attention - as a good opening line should. Paraphrasing, it reminds us that production, the output you desire, or require, can be manipulated in any number of proven ways. The author uses the axiom of one not needing to ‘re-invent the wheel’ in order for success to occur, one must simply ‘commit to the effort necessary.’ All good.

As is my modus operandi, this opened the flood-gates and the metaphorical waters began to rush over the spillway with alarming speed. I see on the whiteboard of my mind the moment of inspiration from the inventor as he (I will assume it was a he) considers the possibilities of an endless circle used for utilitarian purposes. Hummmm. Was it from watching a rock roll down a hill? A snowball? A hollowed out section from a fallen tree? Gerbils frolicking? Wind blowing a bubble across a still lake at dusk? Or a dream? From where, oh where, dost our inspiration spring?

If, as the author suggests we should steadfastly borrow from those that have gone before us and employ the means and methods proven effective since the stone age, does that not imply that our job, or one part of it, is simply to keep the wheel moving? To keep the bearings greased and the rims true, pointed in the direction of our……what? Dreams, hopes, desires, profits, success’, victories or happiness?

OK. I could try a little bit harder. I could try a little bit more.

Keep the wheel moving. Push it, power it, propel it. Forward. The case could certainly be entertained, especially if you happen to be at a party of philosophers, that Sisyphus, busted for being a talented con-man, stealing fire and giving it to humans (gasp) and sentenced to eternal (without the possibility of parole) pushing of a huge semi-round boulder up a six percent grade in Hell, got off easy. He had a job. He was on a mission with a singular objective. KEEP THE WHEEL MOVING. ‘Be happy in your work,’ no matter its degree of difficulty, seeming contradictions or potentials for perpetuity. Do what must be done. And make it honest work, too!

Additionally, should one find the wisdom and courage to attach a shovel-full - or a truck-load full - of gumption, attention, attitude, humor and presence, the mission becomes the meaning. There is no substitute for hard work and there are no shortcuts. Anything of value, be it your peace of mind or mastering the sitar, will take focused effort. Yes, inspiration is the impetus to get started, to take that crucial first step, but consistency, hard work and relaxed focus, will get you the consistency and resilience necessary for achievement of your goals. We do this no matter what.

We keep the wheels moving.

Signs

Signs of Success

When the morning chores are like the weather there is a flurry of activity. Making coffee, of course does not count. Simply as a reference, and because this is, after all, a running tabulation of all associated chaos, I will list what has already gone down this fine Thursday morning. 

The couch where I am currently house/dog sitting was quick in reminding me that it was designed for sitting and not sleeping. My lower back sore and hips tight from the combination of yesterday’s three sessions and the shrinking couch, I stumble to boil water, grind beans and clean the French Press. The sweet chocolate lab whom I have supervised since she was a pup wags her tail in anticipation of breakfast soon to be dished-up. Even the overweight orange cat has come downstairs to see if any orts are accessible. Pets fed I head home with last nights to-do list in front shirt pocket. 

Grabbing second cup of joe I log-on to get an updated damage report on the carnage treasonously underway at the hand of this disgustingly criminal administration and their complicit cabal of conservative felons. I am not disappointed as yet another scandal is reported as they scramble to distract fragile American attention spans with another rhetorical run up to war. My coffee tastes like fear. 

Last night my ancient laptop suffered the computer equivalent of a stroke. I did the only troubleshooting test I could, switching the power cable, and went in search of help. Found the model and part number and ordered a new battery. While on-line I succumbed to the allure of my current favorite TV dramatic series, Homeland, and begrudgingly coughed up the $17 for season seven. Also, after quickly connecting a couple of obvious dots, I sourced and signed up for a month-long on-line screenwriters seminar. Hang on Carrie!

Most importantly however was communications with my two favorite gals. They are in Northern California, cycling today from Pt. Reyes into The City. This, as you know, covers the terrain where I visited and filmed just a month ago, and currently spend hours each day in the editing suite obsessing over its portrayal as a documentary. In a startling moment of truth it became very apparent that one of these fearless ladies was struggling with the challenge of the days 4,500ft of elevation gain. I did my best to text encouragement and inspiration but may have failed. They are riding as I type. I am sending supportive vibes. Yet as I considered the words of hope and motivation I used and their appropriateness to the situation, it becomes clear to me, as I walk to the kitchen for another cup, that everyone has their own limits, their personal brick wall of doubt where unmistakable signs of ’no passing’ are posted, a gate fortified with fear and protected by mental dragons and horrible thoughts of failure. And we turn and run never reading the fine print. 

I have never known this person to shy from challenge. She routinely performs acts as courageous, bold and impressive as anyone I have ever seen. I have a mountain of respect for her. But when she really needed help - all I had was the usual, banal cliches about facing fear, taking the first step, seeking the joy of challenge, etcetera, etcetera. And I feel like I let her down at the one moment when I really needed to pick her up. 

I did the easy stuff this morning being a consumer. I failed at being a coach. 

A Milestone

Yesterday was a milestone. I am pleased with the effort that has pushed me to this point. The process, with consistency, resiliency and persistence, has produced the first completed outline of my story. This will act as a template to structure the screenplay to industry standards. It is a step the importance of which cannot be overestimated. I will provide one example to illustrate the value of this process. Upon what I felt at the time (approximately 1634 yesterday) to be the completion of the treatment outline, I took a celebratory break. My break was a walk on the beach. I don’t need to go into much detail about restorative strolls on wild shores but perhaps the resulting effect is something that might warrant consideration and analysis. I walk in critical analysis of my work, playing it out in my head to guarantee that the accuracy, characterization and plot development are in their proper and chronological locations. This happens here, then this, this and then that. I am considering the narrative arc of the story and how my protagonists play off each other offering, like a good opponent always will, the opportunity for challenge and growth. The bigger the challenge the bigger the reward. A gull overhead reminds me to keep it simple. 'Follow the story faithfully' and then allow the audience to eventually decide which of the two has reached the higher moral ground. A chevron of Canada Geese lay on their horns demanding additional lift and cleaner thermals, 'lead, follow or get out of the way' I interrupt the quasi-harmonic honking to say. There is a river otter about twenty yards off-shore diving for food, rising and enjoying whatever sea morsel he holds as if it were gold. He looks my way with insouciance and wonder, completely blissed out in the present moment but still managing to convey that 'one can lose a battle and still win the war'. I stop and listen to the wind, the light rain and small waves from a recently passed pleasure craft. I forgot something. I left out an important part. There needs to be more detail in the transition from the point A of then and the point B of there. What caused this to happen? Who is responsible? How does it affect the next series of events. What emotional change takes place as a result? 

How could I have left this important point out? Fool. 

I turn on a dime (one tenth of a sand dollar) and head for home determined to add the spit-shine and polish to my story. Thank you all for your time and inspiration I sing to my creative partners in the field, I think we got it. As I do I hear the gull agree and the geese concur. The wind blows and the rain falls. 

But the otter is gone. 

Call it an Interval

Winter Interval in the North Cascades

Call it an interval. On Sunday after an indoor ride of 90 minutes we considered the effort. This is, I offered, time well spent. It is raining felines and canines, translating to the fact that most of our group is no longer in the demographic of those in need of character building spins through our beautiful, but soggy, backyard playground. True, we could have done those nagging household chores and home maintenance projects, or even baked special cakes or lounged around a brunch table in bathrobes and fuzzy slippers, but we chose instead to get in a workout. Those in possession of high ACQs, athletic character quotients, those wishing to positively impact their existing levels, those hoping to redirect trajectory stagnation, or those bogged down by the discipline required to avoid muffin tops, spare tires or Dad bods all recognize, or should start to, the importance of consistent work in the critical area we discussed yesterday. The three major cycling specific types of training, be it for racing or enhancements to quality of life are; 1) The high-intensity interval, 2) Sub-threshold steady-state and 3) the long steady distance or LSD ride. 

It should come as no surprise that one of the main benefits of this practice is the effective increase of the practioneer’s metabolic rate. Should one, as one should, be interested in the equation A + B = C, where A is food, our the modern faux equivalent of it, and B is one’s habitual movements, exercise consistency and stress management, C is going to naturally equal the resulting physical, mental and emotional combination of them. Intake plus output equals you. Put another way, if you are interested in making changes to your BMI, gross weight, functional strength and ability to execute simple acts of physicality like walking, climbing stairs, playing frisbee with the dog and maybe even dancing a little on Saturday night, the formula is straightforward: Consume less and work more. This is a generalization and subject to individual variation yes, but the general outline is solid. And this is why we search for creative ways to accomplish the premise. If riding indoors on rainy Sunday morning’s while watching old movies fills the bill, ride them we will. 

The idea of the interval, stress - rest - repeat has been around since the days before we developed our current understanding of time. We knew, as example that after chasing down the wildebeest for dinner we needed a nap to recover. Nobody had to say that the perfect interval was twenty seconds on and sixty in recovery (repeated until the javelina, peccary, wild pig or other species of prolific local game) was 'apprehended', it was understood, accepted and applied. Work hard (get the game) and recover. The utilitarian interval was in the demand, and being that our cavemen ancestors were fond of large family units this format quickly became a necessary practice for survival. And it continues to this day despite the comfort and convenience of our driving to the Safeway for pork. 

After a long day yesterday I sat in my office chair and considered all that had taken place. I was cooked and upon review the fact that I got in two of the three types of indoor cycling workouts mentioned above, a HIT spin class early and a 2x20 set in the evening, as well as a weight-lifting session with Junior between them, might explain why I was thinking about an early retirement. I needed rest and recovery. This hunter had finally gathered sufficient fatigue. 

Call it an interval. 

That ONE Thing?

Ravell's Bolero from Allegro non-Troppo

It’s not the only thing - but what if it was? What might be the result of my, your, total and complete focus was on a single subject?  That ONE project or chore that has been SCREAMING for attention. You know the one as well as I do. What is, I ask in all honesty, so important, timely and pressing that it would keep us from acting upon the perfect-pitch call of the universe? Distractions are the paths of least resistance, but it is the very resistance to distraction that empowers our creativity and self value. 

I keep a three-ring notebook to the right of my keyboard (I am right-handed) along with my favorite mechanical pencil (BIC #2, 0.7mm, red) to jot down notes, ideas, charts, plots, scales, lists and correct spellings, along with workout structures, lyrics, memes, koans, haiku and a thousand other things. I find that it helps to get it down in order to get it out. I no longer have the RAM to store everything that comes to me in the form of random cosmic input. Two things result from this process, one, if I don’t write it down I will waste an incredible amount of subsequent energy filing, finding, forgetting and searching for it. I hate to admit but sometimes I need to stop all the engines and remember exactly what it was I was just doing, or thinking, or considering or planning. Writing it down also gives me the opportunity to start somewhere. If I, as I just was, offered a new word in a context with which I am involved, music in this case, I want to explore and unravel its mystery. Thank Google for that! Want to play along? OK, the word is ostinato (I had to type it three times to evade the spellcheck thugs so I know it is a good one!)

Ostinato is a musical term, a repetition of notes as (possibly) a base underlayment from which to build a movement upon. For you classical music fans, think Ravell’s Bolero. BUT, and here it gets interesting, it can also be used in contexts such as indoor cycling training, screenwriting and just about anything else you can think of requiring a regular succession of actions.  Breaths, heart-beats, planks, acts in a dramatic story, minutes spent in meditative awareness, household chores and dare I suggest lovemaking. Rhythm, cadence, amplitude, oscillation, groove, dynamic flow are all units defining and measuring a beat. With practice, patience and discipline we can tango our way into life’s dance with focus and purpose. I know that this can be a struggle, finding the appropriate current to assist us in the process, but with a little structure and a lot of faith, we can avoid distraction and focus on the importance of listening to that song and adding our notes in the margin. We can take notes of everything that is swirling around us in order to isolate and later refer to. I think if we can master this technique and practice relentlessly enough to simply, after a time,  we can let the distraction go and let the focus flow. 

I can’t see any reason why this cannot be that one thing. Why this cannot be the only thing. Our complete focus on the single subject of hearing that call and acting upon it. 

By Choice

Rides, spins and leaves

It was our choice. We rode inside this damp and dark Sunday. Ninety minutes worth of steady-state low intensity cardio. The movie that I picked as entertainment as we rode was old, silly and, at times, painful to watch. Despite some eye-rolling groans, sucking of teeth and general malaise, it was time well spent. If you want to see a movie and be entertained, inspired or challenged, go spend ten bucks and sit on your butt mindlessly ramming stale popcorn. However should you choose to burn a thousand calories, increase your endurance and prepare yourself for future rides where enjoyment and adventure overcomes a sore fanny, tired muscles and lack of endurance, you must, we must, we must all, adhere to the three pillars of cycling improvement:

1) High Intensity intervals. We preform many variations on this training theme every time we meet in the club for spin class. It is a perfect environment outfitted with the tools necessary for safe and reliable improvement while a peloton of peers provides camaraderie and accountability. We do them three times per week.

2) Sub-threshold steady-state. We call them 2x20s and they are the silver to the gold of the HIT standard outlined above. One must know one’s FTP, functional threshold power, number, as measured by watts, and then execute 85% (the sub) twice for twenty minutes with a five minute break between. We use a combination of CompuTrainer and Wahoo Kickr smart trainers for this drill which we preform at least two times per week in the early evening.

3) The final format required of cyclists, triathletes and literally anyone wanting dramatic improvement on their current state of cycling acumen - or general good health and optimum fitness - is the routine affectionately known as the long steady distance. You simply must stretch it out, reduce power and find your groove-zone efficiency level necessary for a successful long-ish ride or run. We traditionally do rides outside in a group on the weekends, often stopping for coffee and and a snack along the route. Ninety minutes to three hours is the accepted standard.

If you are serious about upping your cycling game these are the three tried and true standards. This time of year, our rain got here a touch earlier than expected, the clubs cycling center and our facility, The PowerBarn offer indoor options.

Next week I will pick the cinematic entertainment with a little more finesse. But the idea remains the same; Sit, spin, endure, find the sweet-spot and search for the dynamic flow-state that will push you past your current comfort zone and well into another. A meme I saw today sums this nicely:

You’ll never know what you are capable of until you leave your comfort zone by choice or by force.

Let’s go by choice.

Lackluster Results?

I took a quick inventory of my current projects yesterday afternoon. After the grading and analysis it is apparent, at least to me, that there is room for improvement with every one of them. This assessment reinforced what I already knew, that the quality of each project can be, SHOULD be, upgraded. From the video I shot (in auto focus), the blog post I authored (the experimental three paragraph short-story), the workout (a very decent 2x20 set), the dinner I cooked (lentil soup with leftover curried rice, tuna and tomatoes from my dear neighbors garden) to the research study (I should be talking more notes) and the restless sleep causing an additional midnight read, they all share one common trait. That the process, the attention to detail and the attitude of present moment relaxed focus is the goal - not the destination as finished product. THAT will take care of itself, and be of high quality as long as each step of the way is taken with honor, respect, joy and presence. This is exemplified by a coach’s comment I heard yesterday suggesting to the swimmers hanging on the deck at 0500 swim practice that they should all ‘be grateful that you have something in your life so important that you are willing to get up at 0430 to do.’ I love that. Because it is so perfect, so real, genuine and 100% authentic. 

The same inspiration gifted to the lucky high school swimmers is the same one I considered yesterday as I sometimes frustratingly fumbled with camera, word processor, drill motor, stationary bike and spatula. Be thankful and be present. Appreciate the ride. Keep your focus and relax into this step of the journey. Run THIS mile. You cannot start and finish at the same time, there is that middle that must be traversed, endured, traveled, experienced and negotiated. The harder the climb, the deeper and more treacherous the potholes and pratfalls, the more satisfaction and value the completion of your trip will have. Songs are written about this, novels penned and movies made. This is where love lives. Our destinies lie somewhere between our first steps and our last, yet, perhaps paradoxically, each step is its own epiphany. Whatever you are doing right now (or what you will return to after reading this) put everything that you are into it. Smile on it, sweat on it and bleed on it. It becomes you. 

I am back at it today, picking up where I left off. All my projects are waiting patiently. The video will see addition by subtraction as I start the process known as the tighten up. Looks at this point that I will meet the formatting requirement requested by the three paragraph short story concept, we killed an hour of power in the club this morning and I have a Newman's Own frozen pizza ready for the afternoon college football entertainment. Arguably most important is the research from last night has added another layer of complexity to the screenplay, one I was hoping to find and fill a sequential passage of important time (1942 - 1945). I am happy being a productive guy. Despite yesterday’s lackluster test results. Or quite possibly because of them. 

Easy as Pie

I again demonstrate the technique. It is, I add, as easy as pie. Yet anyone who has spent time in the kitchen actually creating one, knows the unique challenge and demands required for success. This paradox, the easy and its demands, are the extrinsic objects referenced. The subjects are us. The strategy is to keep centered, balanced and joyful in the present moment. The tactic is a practice we call the trigger.

The group I am addressing on this rather esoteric technique are my staff. They are Filipino and Mauritian. We are working on a government contract on a remote and isolated island in the Indian Ocean. Our job is to maintain the moral, welfare and recreational opportunities for the military men and women assigned to the base. It is not an easy job but it could be if we all buy into the premise that our enthusiasm, attitude and dedication will be infectious if practiced relentlessly and with sincerity. Excellence is after all, a habit.

The trigger, I continue, is this: We all know what is expected of us and that many times this demand, coupled with our sporadic homesickness, the long hours, the sometimes uncomfortable working conditions and the loneliness of an unaccompanied overseas assignment, gets us down. This emotion left unattended will grow and affect others. Starting today, right now, when we pass each other on the street, in the mess-hall, at the ships store, on the ballfields or during a change of command ceremony, give your teammate a salute, the one we call a trigger, by taking your right hand and pinching your right earlobe. This simple action will trigger the memory of our mission, reestablish the connection between us all, and remind us to stay present in this powerful moment in history. This will be our namaste, honoring the spirit inside us all. I think if we can do this often enough, with as many of our team as possible we stand the chance of changing the entire atmosphere of our work place and in turn create an environment of excellence through service.

I finish with another demonstration and dismiss the group, they respond enthusiastically so I add, ‘easy as pie.’

The Caravan Moves Along

Paradox, Humor & Change in a single shot

The research, at some point, must end. In order for the actual creation, the path forward, to begin. There is a natural connection between the two as all artists, athletes or writers understand. A football player of sufficient capacity to actively seek challenge, works his tight-end off in order to improve his skills to the point of testing them against the best competition available. This research, our practice and the subsequent testing in real-time live action is the juice. It is the point. Practice, prepare, research, study, grow and test.

Dan Millman in his seminal series, The Peaceful Warrior, had his alter ego protagonist, Socrates suggest to his student that while artists must be concerned with design, color and texture, while writers (or their editors)  must know grammar, punctuation and syntax, and while doctors must be well-versed in anatomy, auto immune systems and disease prevention, the peaceful warrior, the truly enlightened human-in-training, must be aware of them all. “You practice gymnastics, I practice everything,” he once reminded young Danny.

Once the gymnast, painter or smash-hit songwriter has paid sufficient homage to the basics, absorbed the inspiration of masters who have gone before and rehearsed the skills required until fingers bleed, eyes redden and muscles ache, she is ready to create. And create she must!

It is time to take the leap. Jump into the fire. Dare to create something new instead of rehashing the old, stale and obsolete. It is time, quoting Socrates again, to stop gathering information from the outside and start compiling it from the inside.

Have the courage to get it out and get it down. Let go of the limitations you place on yourself, the self-doubts, fears of failure or an obtuse warning from a society who finds it easier to criticize than to support. Invoke the swoosh and Just Do It.

That sacred journey, the one with the catchy cliche of its intimidating distance of a thousand miles starting with the first step, is, in my opinion, incomplete. I say this because it has been my experience that the journey, and especially that precious initial step in its direction, actually starts with a series of stumbles. The journey of a thousand miles begins with falling down, miserably failing, repairing broken noses, arms and hearts and having the fortitude to rise up and carry on, this time with the prerequisite of the wisdom born of empirical defeat. Losing hurts, I agree, but as the nomads say, ‘dogs bark but the caravan moves along.’  Learn the lessons of defeat.

Practice, practice practice. Practice everything.

And then go out and play the game.

We Have the Room

“Because the more I promote myself the more value I have to you.’ 

That was my response after a somewhat terse exchange with ‘management’ regarding my use of product placement in the video. The conversation came about as questions arose about the amount, frequency and placement of logos, images, mentions or outright testimonies of the PowerBarn, sponsors of the ten day journey, captured on video and in production for premiere showing at the gym, we call it an athletic club, where I am a indoor cycling instructor. I also happen to be the owner, head facilitator and CEO and janitor of the aforementioned PowerBarn, an indoor cycle training facility once housed at the club. Conflict of interest or one big happy family? 

Borrowing from an outstanding article on the modern marketing practice of seeing and selling abundance rather than scarcity (measured by share of market and the potential for additional share in new markets, created by forward thinking professionals) I asked of myself the appropriate response to the standard fear-based questions. Is the pie so small that we cannot expand past current options? Is this it, no more growth, expansion, tests or product demonstrations? This is the formula, the model and the recipe all wrapped into one without the possibility of experimental deviation? 

Take a 2,700 mile road trip in a branded SAG vehicle, strap your bike to the rack, toss a dart in the direction of adventure, invite your friends and film whatever happens along the rugged coastal route (cosmically suggested by that dart.) Make a video of the event. Present the video to your clients and club members as an inspirational, joyous and entertaining hour-long spin session. 

While not exactly by a mile, it is definitely outside of the box. It is different, new, timely and important. Anything related to extending the health and fitness of any demographic in any location is important. Obesity is the now the number one cause of death for Americans having recently passed heart disease as public health enemy numero uno. I am sponsoring a ten thousand dollar bucket-list trip and the subsequent documentary video as a way to attract more people to our health-fitness-training-adventure paradigm and your first question is about the number of times my logo appears in the film? 

That hurts. 

I spent the better part of last night working the issue, trying to validate my unease and deep sadness in the initial response of the executive task force at the club who seemed to be wanting both the cake and its consumption too. From a ‘fine, we’ll go elsewhere with our little happiness doc,’ to ‘whatever,’ I compared the options. I feel obliged to stand firm on editorial content, this is mine. But it would be pretty easy to soften the promotional spots and add their logo a few times. We can negotiate a happy medium. I don’t need to add any additional stress to an already compromised relationship. I would like this to last and all I need to make that happen and get a shot at a second try, is to fill the room with twenty-four butts on twenty-four bikes. Not exactly like selling out Benaroya Hall for Sunday afternoon matinee. 

We get to the gist, the down and dirty, the bottom line of the heart of the matter. I can say no, play the indignant card, resist, fight, never say die and walk away. Pride, honor and loyalty to independent filmmakers everywhere intact. I can maintain the integrity of my content, dream, idea, intellectual property and copyright. I can win. 

Or I can see the bigger picture and relent, make it happen, compromise a happy medium agreement and check my ego at the door. I can win. 

It strikes me as odd that the protection of a brand includes the rejection of another, like there is just this one cake and we need every crumb. Another can never be baked? In thinking this through from flour, to dough to fully-baked presentation, a delicious idea satiates my gourmand tendencies and I ask of the cook:

“Does not our appetite come through eating?’ 

The more cakes that we bake, pies that we serve and healthy opportunities we create, the greater the chances that we will attract more people to our table. 

The more I promote myself the more value I have to you. 

We have the room.

We ARE the Whole

There comes a time when all our practice (and practice and practice) needs to be put into play. In Zen circles this translates into, roughly, the idea that no moments exist outside the sphere of the now. Practice wrapping your head around that zinger! A deeper interpretation could also suggest that there is no separation between our practice and our subsequent response to outside stimuli, events, circumstances or what we casually sometimes refer to as the sitrep. Situation report.

A sitrep most often asks of the observer (us) to relay intel on the observed (everything else). Are bombs dropping around us? Are we bracing for hurricane force winds? Is the level of discrimination at critical mass? Are we choking on polluted air and fouled water? Are our elected leaders taking the higher moral ground or enriching their heirs and business associates at our expense? Are we reeling from some extrinsic comment made by someone struggling with their own issues?

That is our practice. This is it and the time is now. It is exactly the intersection of our expanding, compassionate awareness and the reality of a world gone mad from toxic exposure to runaway capitalism. If you harbor any remaining doubt as to the veracity of this image, standing in the rain with thousand dollar umbrellas for sale across the street, consider the ironic hypocrisy of war.

Our practice is to seek truth, to practice peace in all its myriad forms and to find ways and means to put kindness into play. After a lifetime of contemplation I can honestly say that the goal of this game is not to hoard resources, stockpile tax-free cash or bully others into religious fanaticism. The lust for power is a greedy gaming of every religious ideology ever devised. Do unto others?

And so, as the rain turns acidic and reeks with the foul propaganda of hate, we carry on. We practice with awareness and empathy. We remain that single beacon of light flashing a warning signal through the storm of racism, narcissism and bigotry. It is the good fight. DO NOT SURRENDER.

It is also a fight that we must win. A must have game with stakes as high as ever a game could have. Our planet is literally on fire with the official response something about boarder control, guns in teachers top drawers, women’s bodies and gay marriage. Rome, Georgia is burning but Beyonce sings on.

There is no remaining doubt that by changing a part of the whole, one changes the whole. This simple fact of physics provides us with hope, as each change, by even a single atomic particle, either augments or diminishes the entirety of eternity. Is that enough of everything for your consideration?

One might react with an aggressive counter to these atrocities with a violent response, throw rocks at the castle and storm the gates. As much as I trust that this won’t, it could. A better solution, accepting the fact that it should happen, is a two-fold attack utilizing the immense power of united peace.

1) Practice peace in the form of loving kindness. This is gold. Change your part of the whole.
2) Vote. This is blue. And green. We are the whole.

We ARE the whole.