Time

I greet you with hands clasped together in gratitude for being given another opportunity to grace this earth. For being able to take another breath and enjoy the things in my life which brings a smile to my face. For my eyes and being allowed to see my beautiful wife, children and grandchildren and whatever else graces my view throughout the day.

I have spent quite a bit of time in thought thinking about how I spent this past Sunday. I was on call for Crisis Services. Despite this and my usual Pavlovian response as I nervously wait for my phone to ring; I decided to relax and spend the day the way I wanted to spend it. When I’m on-call I make no concrete plans because a call can come in at any time. As I grow older I see less and less value in filling each day with concrete plans. There are things which need to be done, tasks which need to be completed. Those will get done for there is little which needs to get done at that moment. I found the world will not cease turning if something is left undone.

Jack and I rose and we went for our usual Sunday morning walk. Before returning to the inside of the house, we perched ourselves on the front porch and based in the solitude of the morning. There is, for me no other time of day which brings so much joy. The morning paper was where it is normally tossed by the delivery read and the CBS Sunday Morning News was watched. There remained two cups of coffee in my thermos. I chose to take those outside and sit. To simply sit.

The morning paper was where it is normally tossed by the delivery person. It sat protected in its orange cocoon protecting it from the elements which may have otherwise disturbed my ability to read its contents with some modicum of joy. Jack watched as I ground beans for my morning coffee. As his eyesight fails at his age of 15-years, his eyes grow cloudy with cataracts, he thinks he is going to be fed again. I allow him to smell the freshly ground beans. he takes a quick sniff and turns his head away in obvious disgust as he realizes this treat is not for him. read and the CBS Sunday Morning News was watched. There remained two cups of coffee in my thermos. I chose to take those outside and sit. To simply sit. I have this new coffee an Instagram friend suggested I try. Don’t tell my friends at Death Wish coffee, but I really enjoy this smooth taste. All of the information if you’d like to find them on the Internet and give them a try is right on the bag.

coffee

For those of us who reside in the year 2017, sitting and doing nothing is difficult. We all know this and many of agree using one of the excuses which make every hair stand on end; “I just don’t have the time!” First of all, this is Bullshit!!!! We have nothing but time. It is all in how we choose to spend the time we have. So, when done correctly, the ability to sit and do nothing productive, is, in fact, a momentous achievement. There are some people who see me doing nothing as defined in their terms because whatever activity in which I am engaging does not fit their definition of productivity. These are the people who would disagree with me. That’s too bad because I find reading, lying in my hammock, playing with my grandson, writing, smoking a cigar and drinking a couple fingers of a good whiskey are being productive.

coffee

In the past, I had struggled with sitting quietly alone. I felt like I need to be in perpetual motion. It seems as though the minute I sit my brain begins to wander. My eyes also wander. I begin to see things around the house which may or may not require my attention. Most certainly those things do not require my attention at that time. My son joined me. We both noted it had taken him 4 hours to clean his car inside and out. It’s not that the car was that dirty, it’s that he stopped several times, sat and we talked.

I have a salve for my spirit. It comes in the form of silence, of solitude. When I am physically able to run, it comes in the solitude which I feel during a run and which accompanies my spirit for some time after the run has concluded. It also comes in the form of reading, journaling and smoking a good cigar. My entire professional life I have found myself chained to a calendar and a clock. Questions abound such as “Do I have enough time to do this or that?” These things have resulted in a perpetual feeling of anxiety; of being on-edge. When I apply the salve, which ever one I have chosen, the grip which anxiety has had on me begins to weaken. The difficulty arises when I do not apply the salve as often as is recommended. When I neglect an application, I feel out of place. My mind wanders and guilt, self-imposed guilt reenters or should I say I allow it to reenter. I regret now not doing more in my work life to disrupt that configuration.

Try it sometime. You might actually become addicted to “not doing anything productive.”

namaste

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Fifty-plus

As I write this entry, my arms are outreached in gratitude for what I have seen, experienced and accomplished and for those accomplishments to come.

I sat across from my wife at dinner, I thought for a minute and said, “I like being over 50.” She looked at me and asked me what I meant. This August, the 28th to be precise, I will be exactly four years removed from the age of fifty.

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As I get older, I’m caring less and less about what people think of me. Of course, I still seek approval and validation to a certain extent. I don’t think that will ever go away, especially in this world we live in. I have traveled way too far down this road we call life to think about turning back now. Feeling regret, embarrassment, and anger while wondering if I did or said the right thing causes more stress and more anxiety. there is no time in my life for such time-wasters. I now fill my time with the things which make me happy. the other night I sat outside with my 25-y.o. son who miraculously still wants to spend time with me. We had an amazing conversation about our respective careers, disappointments, and life in general.

As I grow older, I find myself enjoying life more. I find myself having more energy for those things for which I feel a great deal of gratitude and for the beliefs, activities, etc. Which I have identified as “time wasters”, I have removed many of these things from my life. I continue to have little use for drama and chaos and spend a great deal of time

As I have spent some time thinking of this subject I became more interested and developed an interest in what some of the great thinkers have had on this topic. As always, I find myself returning to the journals and writings of thinkers such as Thoreau, Emerson, and Whitman.

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Karl De Schweinitz in his 1924 “Guide to the Art of Living” said, “Living has yet to be generally recognized as one of the arts” and as with any art, mastery at it is only accomplished through hours of deliberate practice.

I found there is a strange thing which happens once we stop giving a fuck. I tell people I’m happy because I don’t give a fuck and they judge me and look down their noses at me. I gave a fuck for a lot of years and it got me tired, stressed, anxious and on medication to help manage the anxiety. I won’t refer to anxiety like so many others by saying “My anxiety” because it’s not mine. I didn’t walk into any store, pick anxiety from the shelf, pay for it and walk out of the store with it. It’s not mine! I don’t want it! I noticed the more I stopped giving a fuck, the more I liked myself; the happier I was. hell, I can’t do anything about 99% of the crap we all make a conscious decision to worry about anyway. So why put the energy into worrying and give it more power than it deserves. If you don’t like the way I live my life, I don’t give a fuck! Go ahead and judge. Let me know how happy that makes you and I’ll let you know how happy I am.

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I am grateful for the guides, the mentors from whom I have had an opportunity to share life experiences and learn new, different ways of doing things. Walt Whitman said, “Life doesn’t give you the people you want, it gives you the people you need: To love you, To hate you, To make you, To break you, and to make you the person you were meant to be.” So many of us become so easily hung up on the belief that Whitman’s quote should read the opposite. Many of us believe we should have the people we want in our lives. What we want does not equate to what we need. In short, it is important to ask ourselves about our life goals and then to ask if we have the resources to attain these goals. My kids, years earlier laughed at the few number of friends which I had. I, on the other hand never had a problem with the small number of people who were lucky enough to make it onto and remain for some time on my friend list. In order to make the cut, you need to make sure you have some value to me. I would also hope I have some value in your life. This is not to say that I use people, but that I do not have time for those people who will seek to thieve energy from me and leave me drained and without a thought in my own head. As Thoreau once said, I wish to live my life deliberately.”

I am thankful for these gifts, for the happiness in my life and for the people who helped me reach this destination.

Namaste

 

Summer paddle

I slipped the bow of my kayak into the glass smooth water. I quickly followed the boat and rejoiced as I felt the kayak free itself from shore and it began to freely float. I settled myself into the cockpit, gently stretching the spray skirt around the cockpit combing.
I reached behind me with my paddle and gently pushed the boat into deeper water. The memory of the paddle stroke quickly returned as did a smile on my face. The bow of the boat gently sliced through the water leaving a gentle wake in my path. The lack of even the slightest breeze leaving the surface of the water as smooth as glass.
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I paddled along the shore examining the wondrous nature laid out before me. The wake left by my boat finally reached shore and gently lapped at the rocks along the shoreline.
The sun, finally making its first appearance above the horizon began to warm my face. I knew at this hour I would have the entire waterway to myself.
As I rounded a bend in the canal, my boat bumped gently into the trunk of a small tree which had fallen and slipped into the depths.  A pair of ducks paddled silently in the other direction.
As I paddled into a more populated area the sounds of barking dogs began to fill the air. Several ran along the shore their stride matching my paddle stroke. When they tired of the chase they returned to their human companions. Flocks of Canadian geese took off from the water circled overhead and glided silently just feet above the water, passing within arms reach of me. This beauty caused me to cease paddling and simply be in that moment.
I reached my destination and began to paddle toward the put-in. Everything that I had seen on the first passing coming to life again as the sun found itself higher in the sky, shadows lengthening, a new perspective coming to light.
Namaste

The walk

I rose, my legs needing to move; feeling restless. I could not stand to sit any longer. I walked to the picture window, parted the drapes and watched as the sun began to slowly inch its way toward the horizon. I asked her if she wanted to go for a walk. She said “Yes.” We reached for our jackets and met at the car.

We drove silently for the Niagara River and the river walk which snakes its way along the contours of the river’s edge.

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We walked, hand in hand. Words were not exchanged; none were needed. I felt the pressure on my hand increasing as she gently squeezed it. I gently squeezed back. this was all that needed to be said. We walked the path, the setting sun warming our shoulders. It would be dark soon. I stopped and she took two more steps before our hands strained at the pressure. She stopped and looked at me. She smiled and asked, “What?” I said nothing as I pulled her to me, held her by the hips and kissed her on the forehead. I pulled back slightly and gazed into her smiling eyes. Every care in the world melted away in those few moments. The world could have collapsed around us and it would not have mattered. We were together and that was all that mattered.

Namaste

What the F*^ck?!

I greet you this day with arms outstretched in gratitude. It is this gratitude which is keeping me sane right now.

I woke this morning in a good mood. I made coffee, showered and walked the dog. The sky was gray with a hint of sun sneaking through just above the horizon. The weather forecast promised more sun and as I made the drive into my office the forecast was coming true. I have a general belief that we as a race of human beings are ultimately good people. I see goodness but sometimes I need to work extra hard to see even the

I have this problem in life; I follow rules. I’m not sure why I do it (sarcasm) because it seems that the majority of the world doesn’t believe it’s important to follow the rules.

I drove to work and less than two miles from my house I noticed a tailgater. Now I’m driving the speed limit through a school zone and this moron passes me. I forgot to mention there was also a double yellow line. The hits just kept on coming. The next moron was a tailgater through a construction zone and then another moron forces me to slam on my brakes as she, whoops, did I just say she, took off out of a parking lot and cut me off almost forcing the car behind me to see what the backseat of a Honda Element is live. There was a time when I enjoyed loved getting into my car and simply driving. many times there was no specific destination in mind. I just wanted to drive. I loved the freedom of going where I wanted to go when I wanted to go, to see and experience things around me. That love, I feel has been snatched away from me, from many of us. Very few of us are mindful enough within our daily lives to ewnjoy the simplicity that life can be. Instead we complicate things with our ouwn special brand of self-importance.

This is a piece I found from Waylon Lewis.

“I am sad because this world seems to be full of ‘wisdom’ that tells us to reject ourselves, to be something other, something better. I am sad because our culture demands palm oil, plastic, speed, sex…without regard for compassion, for love, for justice. 
  
I am sad because we have heard all this before, and our reaction is to escape, to relax into depression instead of relaxing into cheerfulness, into doing something about it. I am sad because ‘People watch Netflix more than they hang out with their friends, exercise, and read—combined.’ But, yet, I am heartened because community still matters. I have so many friends who show up and speak with passion, yet kindness. I am heartened because I—tired and defeated as I am, sometimes—will rise again tomorrow, and greet the day, and work hard again. I am heartened because there is so much kindness, and gentleness, and honesty, in so many corners of this world where greed and environmental aggression have not yet made their way. 
 
I am heartened because of you. You who care enough to read, and contemplate, and learn, and write, and share, and lead lives of mindful bravery. Good luck out there, sweethearts!” ~ Waylon Lewis 

This life that we all have been granted an opportunity to live can be an amazingly beautiful thing if we would simply choose to slow down and actually “live” this life.

whatmakes people

Namaste

Emotionally Drained

I returned home yesterday thankful my 6 PM appointment had canceled and sad that my 7:30 had not.

I hate feeling like this, not sad, not depressed as “everyone” says these days; just emotionally tired, exhausted.

I take care of myself and am happy with my self-care. I found my stride so to speak as I haven’t missed a day of journaling since the start of the year. There are days here and there where I write simply to write, simply to put words on a page. More often than not, the words begin to flow with more ferocity and a paragraph turns into a page or more.

My journal is more than a collection of thoughts. It is a list of books I want to read, passages from literature or quotes which I simply want to remember. It is also a collection of random jottings or musings. The nib of a fine fountain pen gliding across a page provides the tactile stimulation which a keyboard does not.

Wilhelm Von Lenz wrote in 1855, “When Beethoven was enjoying a beer, he might suddenly pull out his notebook and write something in it. ‘Something just occurred to me,’ he would say, sticking it back in his pocket. The ideas that he tossed off separately, with only a few lines and points and without bar lines, are hieroglyphics than no one can decipher. Thus in these tiny notebooks he concealed a treasure of ideas.”

Hemingway had the following to say about writing in his journal, “I would stand and look out over the roofs of Paris and think, ‘Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence that you know.’ So finally I would write one true sentence, and then go on from there. It was easy then because there was always one true sentence that I knew or had seen or had heard someone say.”

The weather has started to warm to a level which is becoming increasingly comfortable. I needed lightweight gloves this morning on my walk/run because the temperature hovered just a few degrees above freezing. This was my first walk/run since my surgery on April 6th. It’s been 291 days since my last full run what was a comfortable 7-miler. Over that time I have lost pretty much all of the fitness I had worked so hard to build. Getting older doesn’t make the return of that level of fitness easier to return. I successfully navigated through three running segments and the fourth caused some discomfort. Time will tell if I can return to the level of running with which I had been comfortable.

Last week I had a chance to see a new doctor. He’s an ENT or Ear, Nose & Throat specialist. Within the last month I have noticed ringing in my ears. Tinnitus is a logical explanation but since I don’t have my medical degree, I’ll leave diagnosing up to the doctor.  I can now see why people with such a condition  can become more easily frustrated. One day the symptoms are there the next they’re not. The next day they’re there but at such a profound level it makes focusing on anything a chore.

I met with the doctor and was gratefully informed that my hearing is excellent. Unfortunately my wife was made aware of the quality of my hearing. This has brought to a relatively abrupt end my successful ability to tune out the chaos.

Anyway, the doctor is trying a couple of things to make the somewhat intrusive ringing easier to manage. This involves the prescription of a medication and testing which is scheduled mid-June.

The other night, after a particularly difficult day at the office, I returned home unlocked the bike and went for a ride. I had no particular destination in mind other than out of my head. I have always found running and cycling to have a restorative quality. As the years have progressed, cycling has taken a backseat to running because quite frankly I don’t feel safe going out for a ride. As running has been sidelined for an undetermined period of time, cycling it is. This is another time for me to reflect, plan and become more focused. It would be great if employers would provide an opportunity to shower because I would find myself commuting to work.

Next week I leave for vacation. I look forward to a week spent on the beach, cigar and bourbon in hand. My kindle and journal will also make frequent appearances.

It’s time for a change

With hands clasped together in prayer, I greet you on this beautiful day.

A lot has been intentionally crossing my mind as of late.  As winter comes to an end and spring approaches, I have noticed the depression which I have worked so hard to manage during the long winter months has begun to lift. Medication remains a constant but there is also a renewed outlook which has buoyed my determination to continue the fight. Medication has been helpful as has my journal writing. Introspection has returned.

Since the beginning of 2015, I have twice changed employment. The first change found me looking for a challenge and the second was out of necessity for my physical and emotional health and well-being. The first change resulted in a depression which I found myself denying, even after I had left. I found myself in the throes of burnout and experiencing anhedonia-like I cannot recall. I forced myself to run. Running is normally a part of my day. For me, there is nothing better than rising at 4AM and getting in 7-10 miles. My love, my desire to run let alone wake at what some might call “that ungodly hour” had left.

Denial is a wonderful thing, or so we allow ourselves to believe. During the period of forced running, I felt a pain in my right knee. As the pain dissipated within a mile, I continued to run. One particularly depressing day, I completed a run, sat on my porch to rest in the solitude of this early hour and watch the sunrise. I rose, did nothing in particular with respect to movement and felt and heard a pop in my knee. Running without pain was now completely out of the question.

It has been in excess of 250 days since I last took a run.

As I procrastinated, my knee began to feel better. Pain was a thing of the past. A little over a month ago I went for a 3-mile run and was excited as there was no return of pain…until several hours later. The injury remained and it was time to seek a more in-depth intervention other than playing the wait and see game.

I finally met with an orthopedic surgeon, completed an MRI and ultimately was informed the diagnosis was a “complex tear of the meniscus.” The doctor was passive in his attempts to turn me away from a surgical intervention. He also cited my progressing age as a factor to “slow down and find another form of exercise.” I have other forms of exercise but none provide me with the solace that trail running does. There is something magical at rising at 4AM before everyone with sense rises for the day, lacing on a pair of running shoes, filling a water bottle and simply hitting the road. I time many of my runs to be in certain places at certain times so I can catch the rise of the sun.  The run is my therapy while the sunrise is simply a bonus. When I see the sunrise, I think of my maternal grandmother who’s presence embodied all that a beautiful sunrise could be.

There have been many lessons learned over those last two years. I have listened. I hold no remorse for the amount of time which it has taken me to move forward for this is where many of the lessons lie.

I photograph, write and post the results to better understand the journey I’m on — both the literal ones where the Vespa scooter moves through the world and those trickier trips where my mind conspires to understand what the hell is happening to me.  In either case, I’m a spokesman for myself and don’t pretend to offer much to anyone else.

Publishing to my blog as of the last couple of years has been terribly inconsistent. I felt as though a lot of the things about which I have wanted to write did not fit “The Dharmata” very well. I felt as though I had become pigeonholed and subsequently stale. I felt this change needed to take place some time ago and for any number of poor reasons, I never followed through with the change.

I have changed the name of my blog address to thebeardedrunner.net. This is a change GoDaddy tells me is in effect immediately. I hope you continue to follow me on this new path. I plan on writing more regularly about depression, running, the importance of activity in our lives and whatever else come to mind.