Safari Odds and Ends

Safari is the Swahili word for “journey.” It’s an apt name. Observing mystical animals in their natural habit always stirs some spiritual awakening.

I’m eager to process my photos from this journey, to finally get some good, current content on my photography page. I hope I’ve managed to capture at least a fraction of the magic.

But suffice to say, you feel privileged standing in a pop top jeep riding amongst gazelles and big cats. You feel connected to our species’ upbringing, when we would walk amongst the magnificence on the savanna floor.

I don’t think you can finish this journey without more respect: for the animals, for the environment, for where humanity came from. Safari is synonymous to surreal.

Ferocious Grace

It’s definitely kill or be killed out in the bush. Every plant and animal is fighting for survival.

You see little birds on bushes along the side of the game road, and they look so peaceful.

Then you see their primary predator, a serval, and you realize those birds aren’t simply enjoying the sun, that they can become a meal in an instant.

It reinforces that nature is harsh. Nature has no feelings; there is no justice. It’s a powerful lesson.

And that’s what makes the animals and the vegetation and the landscapes even more beautiful.

The graceful gazelle is elegant and skittish simultaneously because it has to be, because its life balances on the edge of a knife. It’s those stakes which make it a beautiful creature.

The bush forces you to recognize this, to stare Mother Nature in the face. That face is terrible and beautiful all at once, and sometimes it’s so overwhelming there is only awe.

Window to the Real World

There’s something serene about sitting in the bush experiencing life, experiencing the real world.

It might appear to be empty field or bare forest. But be still and life awakens all around you. Insects mosey about. Bird calls sound. Scuffles and rustling permeate the bushes. Life is active, and when you’re still, you feel it.

Elephants and giraffes and hippos aren’t just in fairy tales—not yet at least. In Africa they exist. They’re real. They live in the real world, of which you realize we are very far removed.

The lions and rhinos and wildebeest are in the real world. And when you see them, it reminds you: This is an incredible planet, and we’re lucky to share it with such magnificence.

Let the Spooky in

Growing up I always felt spooky on Halloween. Going trick-or-treating, being out late at night amongst the backdrop of scary themes, it felt like there was some type of magic in the air. It seemed a little bit easier to envision a witch in a dilapidated house deep in a haunted forest, biding her time to come out to look for children.

It makes me smile, reminiscing about those simpler times.

Halloween has definitely blown up since then. Over the past 25 years, it seems the holiday has grown in mindshare and importance in our culture. Huge parties, all-out costumes, and themed decorations now dominate October.

I think it helps us embrace some magic in our world. I know everything has to be PC now, and there’s some pushback on the origins of the holiday and what it represents, whether it’s good for kids, etc etc, but I think it helps us court the unknown.

There are so many things we don’t know about our world, don’t understand about our universe. There are colors we can’t see, sound frequencies we can’t hear. Magnetism exists, and gravity, and nuclear forces. These things in our heads have this amazing computing power, we experience this thing called consciousness, and our bodies are made up of more than a trillion cells. We’ve barely explored our own ocean, have yet to reach the closest planet.

There’s so much we don’t know. Why disregard what could be possible, even the current impossible? We are babies to the void. Halloween channels the wonder, in a way. It encourages our imagination.

I know the spooky will creep its way in tonight as it gets dark. I hope we can all embrace the wonder and imagination tomorrow and beyond.

Personal Foundations for the World

Perseverance. Tenacity. Stick-with-it-ness.

One of my favorite quotes of all time champions this trait:

“Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not: nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not: unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not: the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.”

—Calvin Coolidge

I get chills every time I read it.

I believe education, as an institution, is the most important thing in the world.

But in terms of personal qualities and personal character, persistence ranks high at the top. I like to call it ‘resolve,’ because to me that implies you are actively forging a personal contract. You resolve to do something, no matter what. You doubt, you fear, you worry, but you resolve yourself, which is stronger, which is the foundation, so those other things fade away.

If you were to build a human from scratch, what qualities would you give him or her? For me, resolve would be one of them. If you created a person and gave them just 4 things—openness, respect, earnest, and resolve—(s)he would be pretty set. Regardless of environment or circumstances, (s)he would have a great foundation to become an incredible human being.

What if we developed and strengthened these qualities collectively, globally, as a species? Through an infinite myriad of miracles, we already are, but what if humanity as a whole was these things? Do visions of a united global utopia come to mind?

There might be no such thing as a utopia, but we can all strive to emulate the qualities we deem important to being a good human. And if enough of us do that, we will witness it in each other, and connect. We will unite. Our consciousness will become global. Insurmountable problems will become challenges, and we will inspire each other to address and conquer them. We will inspire each other to change, to adapt, to thrive.

An unknown monk put it this way:

“When I was a young man, I wanted to change the world.

I found it was difficult to change the world, so I tried to change my nation.

When I found I couldn’t change the nation, I began to focus on my town. I couldn’t change the town and as an older man, I tried to change my family.

Now, as an old man, I realize the only thing I can change is myself, and suddenly I realize that if long ago I had changed myself, I could have made an impact on my family. My family and I could have made an impact on our town. Their impact could have changed the nation and I could indeed have changed the world."

We can do this. We must do this. It is the defining moment of our species and perhaps our world.

We just need to start with ourselves.

Life Ingredients

When you think you’re settling into a routine, throw a camel into the mix.

Today was definitely a first for me; I’ve never introduced a group of 4 year olds to a camel.

Life continues to throw things at you.

Regardless of where you are, what you’re doing—if you stop and experience it, life amazes you.

I try to be grateful every morning. For everything I’ve experienced, for being alive right now.

Maybe I should change this to the end of the day.

To look back on today, and say to myself: Wow.

TIA for me right now, for sure.

But also, it’s one big beautiful amazing world.

Sinoni Musings

Those in poverty are born into it. It’s not as if all impoverished people made catastrophic mistakes and therefore live in squalor.

Those in poverty do not have access to adequate education. Capable teachers, ample materials & resources—none are to the standard of higher socioeconomic classes.

For those in poverty, without education, personal and skill development is difficult at best, impossible at worst. There is no way to learn the necessary information, acquire the necessary skills, or gain the necessary experience to land jobs that make enough money to rise above the poverty line.

How lucky I am to be able to use the word “those.” Indeed, luck: by chance I was born into a middle-class family in a certain part of the world. Just as easily I could have been born somewhere else, with completely different circumstances.

There’s not even a good way to say “people in poverty.” Nothing sounds appropriate. Impoverished. Destitute. Poverty-stricken. Deprived. Underprivileged. Poor person. Disadvantaged. What do we even call it?

The most prodigious economists disagree on how to attack this inequality. But the first step, for all of us, is to consider and recognize the above facts. To consider others’ plight, to empathize with it. Once we do that, anything is possible. Our humanity will overcome.

Riding through a dream

Riding through the hills and villages on the back of a motorbike. Feeling the wind on your face. Gliding by the world and seeing it all in a glimpse. There’s something about cruising. Californians definitely have their car culture—people sometimes go for a drive just to drive. But not being in control can be sublime as well. If not too full, a dalla dalla in Arusha can provide the same surreal sensation. Just gliding through the world, you see it much more simply. People. Chores. Shops. Time. Daily life. TIA. I don’t think it’s easier to appreciate anywhere else. It becomes clear: Earth does not belong to us. We belong to Earth.

Open Sesame

I’ve maintained a morning routine for about 4 years now. There have been tweaks along the way, and one of the things I’ve changed the most is the last part, my Morning Saying. This is a set speech I say to myself, out loud, every morning. It encourages and motivates me, and it reminds me of the kind of person I want to be.

Within the past year, I’ve added the phrase “I am open” to my Saying. I’ve come to realize it’s a quality I value, one I want to strive for. I know at times in my past I’ve been closed, and I think it’s negatively affected my experience.

But I’ve noticed something recently: it feels good to be open. It feels amazing. There is actually a palpable, physical sensation to be experienced when opening yourself to the universe. You feel light across the chest, and there’s a tingly feeling throughout your whole body. I’m sure there’s some chemical reaction occurring in the brain, some release of endorphins that triggers this feeling, but despite my ignorance, I can still appreciate the sensation.

And what does it mean to be open? It’s to invite anything and everything into you. To truly experience the world. It is to be in communion with the universe. I compare it to our cells’ membranes, how they control the movement of substances in and out of the cell…to be open is to allow your intellectual, emotional, and spiritual membrane to become porous. It is to allow yourself to be moved, to be altered, to be changed. It’s the relinquishing of control. There’s no telling where openness will lead you, but that is part of truly interacting with the universe—that’s living and being alive.

If you’re following this at all, it’s apparent the world needs more of this. Our species would surely benefit from being more open, and it might be the quickest way toward raising global consciousness. As Richard Feynman once said, “I…a universe of atoms, an atom in the universe”—to truly live is to be open. To allow the magic in, open sesame.

The American Political Program

It seems the program runs as follows:

1. Trump doesn’t like “X."

2. In retaliation(?), Trump says/does something outrageous.

3. The media reacts to Trump’s comments/behavior in epic proportion.

4. Republicans, to show they aren’t partisan, denounce Trump’s outrageous comments/behavior.

5. Time passes.

6. The 24/7/365 update-every-minute news cycle generates information overload and “X" fades to the background.

7. Time passes.

8. The (slow) US political system arrives at and addresses “X.”

9. Republicans reject “X,” effectively defending Trump and his comments/behavior.

10. Democrats attack and discredit Trump and the Republicans (despite being the other vital part of the dysfunctional system).

11. We the people forget/don’t realize/don’t care that political parties are private factions, of which their sole purpose is to accumulate and keep power.

12. Time passes.

13. Repeat program.

There are many culprits here, the most liable being ourselves. We can be better, and we can demand better. Not only is it our right, but our responsibility. But where to start, and how? A suggestion: engage in one measured political conversation per week. Let’s stay considerate in our estimation of others, and open in our estimation of the situation. We can do this.

Connection Across Culture

Cultures around the world definitely have their differences, and sometimes they can be stark. When I lived in China, I learned that people often laugh when nervous—they weren’t laughing at me or being rude—they were physically defusing their nervousness. In Tanzania, the pace of life is much slower than I’m accustomed to—life is to be enjoyed, and everything—appointments, buses, meet ups—can wait. Americans can be very open compared to many cultures—talking about anything and everything under the sun—and this loose conversation style can be strange for some.

Rarely are these differences between cultures divisive. Most of the time they’re simply unexpected. Sure, occasionally the disparity in openness or the degree of religious influence on a culture can broach a disagreement, but it seems that for the most part, it’s our assumptions that are the most divisive.

And in my experience, there is a great universal connecter that brings us together: Laughter. All people laugh. Every human on the planet, no matter their culture or birth, knows laughter. We all derive joy and pleasure from life, and we often show it through our laughter. We might laugh at different things sometimes, but more often than not it’s for the same reasons across cultures: something unexpected happens, or a child behaves unconventionally in their innocence. We’re actually still learning much about why we laugh. But it’s one thing we all do.

The world becomes a much friendlier place when we realize there are millions of people laughing, all around the world, at this very moment. Indeed, we have huge problems to solve. But can we also enjoy life together?

Does the News keep us Informed?

About two years ago, I decided to stop paying attention to the news, and I haven’t looked back since.

I’m not sure this is inherently a good thing. I believe part of being a good citizen is being an informed citizen. But there really is so much nonsense now, so much polarization, that I find it difficult to be a consumer of the news, in all its formats. Everything seems to have a political bent.

Before I stopped paying attention, I would read American news online at aljazeera.com, because I figured it was a more neutral perspective, and an outside one can definitely be thought-provoking. But all websites are search engine optimized, all are designed to keep you on the page to generate ad revenue.

How can we reclaim our news? How can we know, and trust that they are, indeed, the facts? This is particularly relevant right now considering what’s happening with Donald Trump.

All the way across the world, the technology exists for me to stay connected. But does our current system enable me to stay informed, or does it prod me towards a predetermined verdict?

Flip Flops in Arusha

Today I bought a pair of flip flops for less than a dollar, and I’m truly happy. A few days ago, the sandals I bought in Brazil in January broke. So I was walking around the yard in the rain with a broken flip flop, and it was impossible to not get muddy any time I went to the bathroom or kitchen, or soaked when I did the same in the rain.

A new pair of flip flops for 80 cents, and I’m a happy man.

Today’s experience was enlightening for me—how much we take for granted, how so little can make us happy. How quickly our mindset and expectations can shift with our reality.

In Arusha, a city of around a million people, there are two main roads. The rest are dirt, and more often, mud (from the rain). Where I live now, there is no running water. The public squat toilets have no sewer system. Electricity is limited to one dim light and one outlet per room, and prolonged blackouts occur nearly every day.

Life is simple here. You wake, you eat, you work, you sleep.

And yet people are happy. People are friendly on the street, they smile. Meals are a time for communion, for sharing and socializing and enjoying. Laughter is a common sound, no matter where you are.

My flip flops in Arusha have shown me that life really can be both simple and sublime, if we use the right focus. When things don’t go our way, if we reflect on how our circumstances compare to countless others, we will truly see.

It sure is one big beautiful amazing world.

To Look in the Eyes of a Lion

Making eye contact with a lion is a seminal experience. You recognize you’re not invincible, even that you’re food. It’s the act of witnessing the absence of fear.

A lion looks at you for mere observation. It knows it can kill you, so you are of no consequence when you sit in your cage emitting metallic clicks. The lion is at rest, staying cool, so the situation is unthreatening. There’s no food or territory for cause of confrontation. So you don’t matter.

Alone in the bush, we are not at the top of the food chain. Almost everything out there can kill us. Many—Cape buffalo, hippos, rhinos—aren’t predators at all, but would kill us and leave us for the vultures.

It forces us to recalibrate our notions of how life works and puts the world into a more accurate perspective. It's a jarring awakening from our perceived "world order." We humans are very fond of ourselves and our accomplishments, and we tend to ignore or downplay our atrocities and failures. Look at our tall shiny buildings—they scrape the sky! Look at our digital information economy—people are paid for knowledge work, for further perpetuating our progress! Look at the Internet—we rapidly assimilate information globally!

None of this matters out in the bush. Looking into the eyes of a lion shows us that we are not the only species on this planet. That there is a natural global ecosystem, and that we’re not atop it, but one part of it. Looking into the eyes of a lion illuminates the magnificence of this world, the utter amazingness of our circumstances. We’re here, right now, living on a beautiful, diverse planet in the middle of apparent nothingness, among lions. And Japanese spider crabs, and okapi, and Venezuelan poodle moths.

Let’s stop destroying the one and only home we will ever know. Let’s stop to appreciate the complete absurdity of it all, the miraculous-ness of it all. Let’s embrace looking into the eyes of a lion.

This is Africa

Europe is the continent of history, of culture and civilization, of kings and rulers and empires. It’s the lineage of peoples wrestling for power and control over thousands of years.

Africa is the continent of life. I’ve felt it once again. I landed in Nairobi yesterday, and driving to the hotel from the airport, I could feel it. It was then I realized it’s been 7 years since I last set foot on this continent. That shocked me; I had forgotten it was so long. Too long.

This place is sacred. I’ll be reminded of that again tomorrow when I embark on a safari. There’s magic in the air here. Africa is the least developed of the continents, but it’s also the most wild and the most free. You feel connected to the Earth here. The animals and landscapes, at least for me, make me feel more human than any art or architecture could.

In an earlier post I wrote how one of my grandparents wished more first-world (and especially American) children would spend a year abroad, to broaden their perspectives. There might not be a better place than Africa. It’s one of the last places left in which we can commune with nature, wild nature. Not just a national park but wide swaths of land, ruled over by the animal kingdom, not a human one.

It reminds us that we’re not here alone. That we share the Earth with others. That we belong to nature. That we are wild and free, and alive.

This is Africa.

The Power of Music

I originally wrote this “obituary” on October 2, 2017, the day Tom Petty died. I wanted to honor him, and the effect others can have on us in this crazy thing called life, by posting on the anniversary of his death, in remembrance of him. Still can’t believe he’s gone. Rest In Peace Tommy.

…

This is the first time I’ve ever cried after learning about a celebrity’s death. I have definitely been sad and deeply affected by the loss of others before, especially Nelson Mandela because of my time and experience in Cape Town. But I became uncontrollably emotional today when I heard about the passing of Tom Petty. I’m not really sure why and I’m trying to make sense of it. He’s my favorite musical artist of all time. I probably know more songs and more words to the songs composed and performed by him than any other musician or band. My first favorite song ever, at 3 years old, was “Free Falling.” Somewhere my parents have a picture of me dancing solo to that song in a tiny tuxedo during one of their Christmas parties. When I hear that ballad I cannot help, no matter what I’m doing, to stop and just feel. To be moved by the lyrics, the tone, the sound. It’s still one of my all time favorite tracks. And there are so many others that have had a profound effect on my experiences growing up. Songs like “American Girl,” “Breakdown,” “Learning to Fly,” and “Two Gunslingers.”

But I don’t think that’s really why I’m so upset. I grew up listening to Tom Petty because of my Dad. He was the one who introduced me to him, the one who would repeatedly blast the classic rock magic in the car. It was a connection that we had, something he taught me, something that we both liked and enjoyed, something that made me appreciate my relationship with my Dad and my love and fondness for him. When I listened to Tom Petty’s music with my Dad, I was able to be present. I appreciated the moments that we were having, enjoying this rock legend’s sound. It also gave me space to think deeply about my life, who I was, and what kind of life I wanted to live. I don’t know why, I guess because Tom Petty’s lyrics are so powerful, but his music just took me to a deeper place, a deeper state, in which I could look at the big picture of life, of the universe, of reality.

Songs like “Two Gunslingers” and “Learning to Fly” went beyond their metaphorical lyrics. The words spurred me to examine the deepest questions, like the nature and reason for violence, what that spirit is that allows us to learn and change and move on, and especially, how absolutely profound love with another human being can be.

I’m so thankful I got to go to one of his concerts on his 40th Anniversary tour, not even two months ago. I witnessed him, even at 66 years old, in all his glory, because his presence and exuberance and music radiated outward into the Greek Bowl crowd in Berkeley, California. I yelled and screamed and cried and let my soul run wild. I was free.

Thank you Tom Petty, for producing your work. Thank you for the love and value you added to the universe. It affected thousands if not millions of other people, and I know it deeply affected me. I owe many of my life’s epiphanies and treasured moments to your music, to your contribution. You are legendary, and legends never die. What you gave me will remain with me until my own death. Thus you live on. Thank you.

Choosing Our Greatest Problems

Greta Thunberg is the perfect activist because it’s difficult to challenge or attack her, irrespective of the difficulty to refute her positions. She’s a 16 year old girl. How can you speak vehemently against a 16 year old?

Her words and actions have moved me and made me introspect. Here I am traveling around the world—taking several long flights—“just" to experience it. I’m trying to put together something that can contribute to our species and our planet, sure. But it makes me question my choices. And I think that’s exactly what’s needed.

What does the world need? If we rank the most important things we can accomplish politically, how would we go about that? Well, we need a planet. That’s pretty important. So I’d say arresting climate change would be the number one priority. We can’t do anything else without Earth itself. Political polarization, differences in religious ideology, economic and class issues—everything else kind of falls to the wayside when you don’t have a planet to live on.

What comes second? I’ll frame this by asking what we search for when we look for other planets that might harbor life. If a planet is in the “Goldilocks Zone,” what’s the main criteria we look at? Water. Water is what makes Earth unique; it is our planet’s most important resource. All of our ecosystems, all of our life, depend on it. This is not a single-species issue. So it seems that protecting and nurturing our water supplies, their purity, and their accessibility to our entire planet is pretty important. Not just for the 8 billion people living here, but the millions of other species we share this rock with as well.

From this larger perspective, these appear to be the 2 most important problems facing our planet. Can we look at this on a global scale, from a global perspective? Cynics say it will never happen, that people care primarily and almost exclusively about their own economics. I refuse to believe it. We’ve never had the technology, the connectivity, or the freedom to properly try. Can we rise above our own biology? Can we act collectively, for the survival of our species and our planet, when the situation is at its most dire?

I believe we can. And I believe we will.

Greater Family First

If you ask someone what’s important to him or her, a lot of people will tell you, regardless of their age, ethnicity, or SES, that family is important to them. Family is almost universally a top priority for most humans. A lot of that is genetic, hardwired into our monkey brains, but I also think basically every human understands she has depended on family at some point. Some people forget, some people even resent their family members.

But the familial unit has enabled humanity to survive in harsh environments with stronger predators. Camaraderie and interdependence became the foundation for role specialization, agricultural production, and eventually the formation of society. Family helps us through our toughest days and darkest times. Family forgives.

What if we viewed humanity as family? On a global scale, Earth is our home. We are its inhabitants. While we’re here, can we treat ourselves better?

A Prague Observation

As we were walking back to our Airbnb yesterday, we remarked on the intriguing city of Prague. My partner made the comment that “it’s so interesting how different all the different parts of the world are. But at the same time, it's the same.” I found that interesting indeed.

Prague is my first foray into Eastern Europe. Perhaps that’s ever present in the back of my mind, but it seems Prague epitomizes the region. Ruled by the Přemyslids, Habsburgs, Hussites, and Soviets over the past 1000 years, Prague boasts numerous cultural influences and architectural styles from the surrounding regions, but also a strong identity of its own. The Soviet shadow lingers, but mostly just because that history is the most recent and most known. Now Prague is progress and independence and intensity and Art Nouveau. Prague is sure of itself. It’s like Prague perfectly encapsulates all of this to shine as the exemplary Eastern European city.

And yet, how different are the Bohemian people compared to others? The history and culture here is unique, just as unique, in fact, as the culture on the Adriatic coast, the culture of Umbria, Andalusia, and South America. People eat and sleep and hang out. People zip about the city—in Prague they take the tram, in Rome, the metro. People struggle and strive, laugh and enjoy. That’s the same everywhere, and it’s one of the epiphanies of traveling. Everywhere is unique, and beautiful and profound. But from a certain perspective, that sameness seeps through. And it’s just as beautiful.

The Spirituality of the Beach

I’m fortunate that I was born and grew up somewhere close to the coast. There’s something spiritual about going to the beach, where the land meets the water. The edge of the continent, the sound of the water coming onto shore—it grounds us and centers us. We’re land creatures, but standing in the water and looking out to the horizon reminds us what’s beyond. I believe it helps us recognize that there’s more than just us, that we’re a part of something greater. The effervescence can be powerful. Beach days aren’t inherently lazy. Sometimes they provide further growth and awakening. As with many things, it only requires stillness.