Time Storm

You ever think back to an earlier point in the week, and it feels like seven years ago? That happens to me regularly.

I get time is relative, and that the pandemic has estranged it even more, but sometimes weeks feel like decades; others, months are seconds.

So I’m trying something new: every evening before bed, I attempt to replay the day in my mind, reaching back to reflect on how I felt. What I accomplished that day, what I failed at. When I was upset and when I was jubilant. Haven’t tried it after a terrible day yet, so don’t accuse me of snake oil slingin’. But then again, maybe I haven’t had a terrible day because it forces me to be more conscious of my choices and happiness.

Covid has thrown a lot of things out of whack. All in all, I can’t complain—it could be so much worse. Sometimes finding the little happy moments each day can get you through the storm. 

Chef Wisdom

I watch a lot of movies now. With real life indefinitely on hold, it feels like it’s one of the few things I “do.” I know there are so many other things I can be doing—I’ve been trying to get back into a reading grove for instance. But as I’ve watched more and more movies, night after night, I’ve concluded it’s just passing the time. 

I watched Chef, directed by Jon Favreau, tonight for the first time. There’s so much emotion in that film. It made me realize how we’re all in a slumber right now. Covid has seemingly prevented us from “doing anything,” and so we’ve forgotten how “real life” feels; what it’s like to eat at a happening restaurant, enjoy time with family, or take a saunter down the street. 

How lucky we are to feel bored or entrapped by this predicament. There are others who are struggling, who are starving, who are surviving. I try to remember that. 

So what’s the solution? Not that there is a specific way out of the coma, but perhaps returning to the root of reality can help. Appreciating the convenience and fortune we enjoy. Ruminating on the simple, little things. We are alive. Maybe Covid offers both the most plain and yet stark reminder. If not, we can look toward Chef: do what we love, and embrace what makes us feel alive. 

Citizenry Inauguration

Today's was the first presidential inauguration that I've watched. It was significant for me because it marked a new chapter. I have my doubts about the government and am skeptical about the incoming administration, just like I was the last one. But I will give it a chance, just like I did the last one. Platitudes were offered today--it is our responsibility as citizens to hold our leaders accountable to them. That is how we can begin this new chapter together, in unity: to remember not just our rights as American citizens, but our responsibilities in governing ourselves. We have much work to do. Let today be an awakening of our obligation to each other, an acceptance of the burden of living in a free, just, and equal society. That burden is a continuous road of difficulty and uncertainty.

Our democracy is never assured; it must be protected and acted upon with each successive generation. Hopefully, we can not only maintain it but strengthen it. Our attention is now focused upon the state of the country, its problems and opportunities. Will we forget tomorrow? Will we turn away from the political reality next month, next year? It is up to each of us to find a sustainable way to individually participate in our democracy, however that may be for each one of us. 

What kind of nation do we want? What kind of world do we want to build? It starts now, and it continues tomorrow, next week, next term...for the rest of our lives. Do we accept that responsibility? Will we choose to rise to the occasion, to forever form a more perfect union, so that our children enjoy a world better than our own? Let today mark the inauguration of an informed, active citizenry that engages in the tumultuous process of democratic governance. Today is our inauguration. What will we do tomorrow?

To Light and Life

We have become more aware of the powerful forces that impact us. There are influences, great and many, that affect our choices and how we see the world. And yet, you’re still reading this. I’m still writing it. We can exert some amount of control over our own lives, and even our collective destiny. If we truly believe this and appreciate its power, we’ll be alright. Just as we have always been. We will face hard times from time to time. We will struggle, and suffer, and strive. That is the nature of life, and no matter what technology we develop there is no separation from it. When we own this fact, we can pull ourselves away from the edge and lead each other toward the light. Do we see it? And will we act on it?

MLK Remembrance

It’s kind of in a strange spot this year with the lead up to the inauguration, but on the other hand, MLK Day could not come at any more pertinent time. As the United States continues to grapple with its history and struggle to live up to its ideals, we can all reflect on the life and sacrifice of Martin Luther King, Jr. He was not a perfect person—none of us are. But his words inspired us to be better, to see ourselves on this planet the way it really is. We are alone here. There is no one else to save us. It’s just the 7.5 billion people on this rock, and the choices we make will determine what kind of existence we experience. Dr. King’s legacy of peaceful civil disobedience lives on forevermore in our history, illuminating the simplest yet most profound truth: we are one. Skin color, political ideology, socioeconomic status... these dimensions are but wrinkles within the cloak of humanity that we all wear. The past year has shown we are still learning that lesson. Do not forget Martin Luther King. Let us continue to derive strength and inspiration from his example, so that we may continue the good work of building a more free, a more equal, and a more just world. 

Going Forward

I’ve blogged before about how we can’t “return to normal.” That normal wasn’t where we need to be, now that we’re awake. I still believe that to be true in many ways, but I also recognize the longing for regular. The pandemic has almost become regular at this point, and it’s disheartening. Is it possible for us to strive for both? To watching football on a Sunday in January without considering politics? Yet to also hold ourselves and our representatives accountable so we can build the best world we can? I hope we try for both. The simple fact remains: we can’t go back. We can only go forward... let’s choose love.

Who we are

In talking with friends and family today, it’s clear that everyone is reeling to some extent. We are not in a great place as a country right now, as a species. It’s indubitably tough. I feel it along with everyone else. There’s anxiety over the uncertainty of the future. It truly does feel like we are at a crossroads. So, who do we want to be? Who do we want to be?

Through Together

It’s good to see those you love. How utterly simple, if difficult right now. Only time will tell how much the social isolation is affecting us. I feel it’s altered our biology in a lot of ways we haven’t considered. How crazy will it be to look back on this period in five, ten years? We’re going through something unprecedented, because we have the technology to document it. The only way we’re actually going to get through it is together. 

Magical Planet

I've been opening up the double doors to the balcony, which is right where my desk is in the living room. The cold keeps me alert and focused on my work. I've noticed a few fruit flies in the apartment over the past few days, obviously coming in from the outside now that the doors are open for long swaths of time. It got me thinking...we live on a planet of insects. There are there are quintillions of insects on this planet, everywhere there are people. It's pretty insane when you think about it. What an interesting planet.

Then I whimsically thought of my time in China, and the feeling I had when I decided to move there. I was intrigued by this ancient, exotic culture I knew nothing about. It might be that I've learned a good deal of Chinese culture, but there are thousands of cultures spanning the history of our civilization, spread out across the globe. There is so much to learn about the different histories and lifestyles our distant cousins have developed. It's mind-boggling. And it's still the same planet, the one with all the insects.

Contemplating my time in China made me think of all my travels, and the diversity of Earth's beautiful landscapes. As I've previously written, there are so many incredible geological features on every continent: mountains and waterfalls and plains and plateaus; rivers and lakes and oceans and deserts. The nature on this planet is astounding, and it's just waiting to be discovered.

What are the chances that the insect planet, that houses a 5,000 year old Chinese civilization, is also made up of inspiring physical phenomena? It sure is one big beautiful amazing world. How incredibly fortunate we are.

Historical Intention

Watching The King’s Speech tonight reinforced the oft-repeated phrase over the past week: words matter. More than that, upon rewatching the film I was struck by the gravity of history. We complain of the lingering pandemic in 2021, but how about living in British 1936? I would be off to war. Now that we are connected more than ever, we must remember: words matter, actions matter. We affect those around us, whether we’re aware of it or not. If we become more aware, we can truly change the world.

Fondness or Fulfillment

I had a thought while getting to sleep the other night: these are the good ol’ days. Even with the pandemic, even with the hardship being faced everywhere... we still have much to be thankful for. As President Obama described toward the end of his second term, if you were given the choice of being born in any time in history, you would choose right now. We have so much to improve in our society, but we still enjoy collective freedoms and conveniences never before experienced. It can be hard to see that when the world appears so bleak, but see if we must. The struggle is part of the journey, and at some point in the future a look back will bring either nostalgia or satisfaction. Nostalgia if the times really aren’t that bad; satisfaction if they were and we still got through them. Another day above ground, another day breathing. Let’s not forget to treasure the simple things. 

Atlas

When I think of it, I don't know if there's any other quality that shapes me quite the way my love for travel does. In trying to limit my screen time while locked in apartment and...wait for it...not traveling, I've tried some Netflix-free ways to pass the time. One of my favorites is looking through my Dad's old atlas. It's an 18 1/2" by 12 1/2" Atlas of the Worldpublished by the National Geographic Society in 1992. While not the most recent, its large size and volume of contents make it a really fun dream machine. Over the years I've drifted towards using Google Maps to scour the world, but I'm glad I navigated back to the big book.

I get that it's not for everybody, but there's something about leisurely perusing a map. It's restorative. You can scrutinize a specific area and create connections between places, or you can glance at the imagery in its entirety and drink it all in.

Of course, browsing through the atlas makes me want to travel, to explore unique pockets of the globe that were previously unknown to me. The world is such an amazing home. There are cultural differences between households across the street from one another, let alone between a tertiary town, a separate state; a nearby nation, or a contrasting continent. There exists deserts and mountains and oceans and jungles and isthmuses out there, everything you've ever seen in a movie, just waiting to be discovered. In some regions on the map you can imagine polar bears living there, in others it's easy to picture an elephant plodding along with bemusement. It's truly a wondrous place, and using the atlas only evokes a hunger to experience it.

Travel creates life possibilities that are otherwise simply unknowable. Going somewhere new is trying something new, except it's doing completely routine things, like eating and bathing and socializing and sleeping and speaking, in a way you've never before been exposed. This cultivates a respect for one's relationship with everything. It helps impress upon the futility of division. In essence, it makes one a more synergistic human being. Hey, it's a pandemic, I get it. Can't travel right now. Open up an atlas.

Shared Seeing

I've been struggling with consistency since the start of the pandemic, but I have become enthralled with photography over the past few years. For me, it's not just about the finished product of a great picture, but the process, the journey that happens between picking up the camera and seeing a photo at a later point. Ansel Adams has some great musings on this experience. When you hold a camera and walk around, your focus turns to what you see. It's a different type of vision because the mind quiets. Some of my best people watching happens when I shoot, because I become hyperaware of the reality unfolding around me. Even if a particular moment is never recorded by the camera, the experience you gain stays with you. That landscape is forever seared into your brain, that interaction between strangers duly noted, the emotion of facing off with a wild animal forever imprinted. I think I enjoy photography so much because it makes me a more understanding and compassionate human. If one out of every thousand pictures I capture invokes some semblance of the feeling I experienced while taking it, for just a few people out there, then I feel fulfilled with my contribution. So much of how we see affects our internal evolution, which in turn affects our interactions with others, and thus the state of the world. Photography is seeing, and shared seeing is the genesis of a gentler universe. 

On the Telly

How much has TV consumption increased since March? At least in California, where it feels like there's nothing else to do, I imagine more people are watching more TV than perhaps ever before. My own viewership has definitely dramatically increased, especially since the onset of winter.

But when you think about it, what is watching TV, really? It's kind of a strange activity for us to engage in. We basically stare at a box and watch a series of rapid images play. What's more, we often already know what's going to happen--how many movies or TV shows have you rewatched? We even suspend disbelief when we see the same person as a completely different character in another presentation. And yet we watch it anyway. We sit in a sedentary trance and become absorbed with pictures on a screen. It's sort of comical when you zoom out to the larger picture (no pun intended) and see it for what it is. What funny little monkeys we are. All around the surface of this floating sphere, there are billions of apes engrossed by a screen at any given moment.

Now, there's nothing wrong with the "telly." It's entertainment, and sometimes you just need to let the brain zone out for a bit. But it does serve as a mechanism for us to view our own behavior. How much time do we spend in that world versus our own? Are we enthralled with the fictitious characters in the viewing window, or the individuals surrounding us in our own lives? Besides, we don't know what's going to happen within our own adventure, this thing we call "life."  We are all filmmakers in this medium, and we have the opportunity to create a grand epic.

Universal Human Contribution

The events of this week make me think about time and our relationship with it all. The words of 2 prominent physicists now gone come to mind. A snippet from Carl Sagan's Pale Blue Dot, which I've written about before, expels some poignant wisdom for turbulent times like these in which a week feels like a year:

"...everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there--on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam. The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena."

After contemplating that truest of sentiments for a few minutes, I then remembered Stephen Hawking's short yet profound rationalization in A Brief History of Time:

"Space and time not only affect but also are affected by everything that happens in the universe."

While perhaps odd complementary quotes, their combined wisdom gave me hope. We are minuscule vessels of matter existing on an unfathomable scale, and yet...we matter. Our thoughts matter, our words matter, and our actions matter. The microscopic output we produce on this planet in turn plays a part in the entire workings of this reality we call the universe. If we can connect to this plain yet powerful truth, we can feel fulfilled in our place, our space, and our significance in this world. If we relinquish the concept of ownership, we can attune to the notion of contribution. We already change the nature of the universe through our being, no matter how small; certainly, we can change the world.

Thinking is Winning

It's convenient that we have come to such a juncture in our nation's history in January; we are accustomed to allocating this time of year to new habit building. I would argue that the most important skill we can cultivate right now is that of critical thinking. Considering all of the factors in a given situation, and then in turn evaluating our own considerations, will prove vital in ensuring our world becomes a free, just, and equal place. I've listened to several pundits over the past 36 hours--like always, everyone has their take. But what is my take? How many millions of other people have been just like me the past day and half, consuming the news to stay informed so they can formulate an understanding of what happened? Are we constructing our own opinions of current events, or are we subconsciously stockpiling others' words and arguments? If we have seen one pattern over the past decade, it is technology's influence on our lives. Remember the first iPhone, how quaint it seems now? Do you ever drive anywhere without GPS anymore? How much time do you spend on social media, on consuming content? When's the last time you enjoyed an analog activity with friends? The pandemic, and the increasingly charged political climate, has exacerbated our dependence on technology.  This century we've unwittingly experienced an acceleration of external reliance and unprecedented convenience. How much are we still actually thinking? If we want to save our world, we must consciously focus our attention back to what defines our species: sapience. If we can think critically, we can solve our problems. History has demonstrated our ingenuity knows almost no bound. And we are benefactors of that history, we have all the advantages of those standing on giants' shoulders. In a way, we must return to what makes us most human. We must see, we must think and consider...and then we must act. Seeing is reflecting, and thinking is winning.

Reckoning with Tomorrow

Today was hard. There is much to process, and my emotions were difficult to control as I learned what happened. Politics aside, it could not be more clear that we have reached a reckoning point. Who do we want to be? We face the decision every day of our collective lives, but every once in a while comes a moment of history that provides perspective. There are billions of children on this planet right now--what kind of world will we leave them? The truth is, every single one of us plays a part in that mystery. Our collective actions create tomorrow. Each and every new day of life, we are presented with an opportunity to contribute to the world, to bring meaning to the universe. We determine our own existence. Who do we want to be?

Our Calling

I came across the movie An Inspector Calls tonight, based upon the play of the same name by J. B. Priestly, and I was stirred by Inspector Goole’s poignant speech at the end of the film. The words “we are not alone” are seared into my brain, because we do have a responsibility to each other. Until we understand this, we cannot solve anything else. Humankind has much to learn, and we must start by learning from each other. Only together can we change the world. 

Universe Eye View

The longer I live and the more I experience, the greater significance I attribute to perspective. As I mature (it has to happen at some point right?) I become more empathetic to different viewpoints, because I've tried more of them on for myself. I see clearly not out at the world but at the lens with which I view it. My opinions have shifted over time, my consternation with other paradigms has subsided. So much of how we see the world is a result of what we have thus far been exposed to, and as you get older that becomes more plain. We can take advantage of this phenomenon by building bridges between attitudes, by synergizing our distinct considerations to form more profound understanding. The world is what we make of it, the result of the energy and action we put forth. It begins with our thoughts, these corporeal manifestations of the universe. What do we think? 

Texas and California

As I return to the Bay Area tonight, it will be interesting to see how quickly I fall back into comfortability with my old environment. Rural northeast Texas is different; the people, the setting, the way of life. However, I reminded myself throughout my visit here that it’s not that different. Is it as dissimilar to California life as Laos? Or Kenya or Bolivia? And really, are those places so far removed from a familiar reference point that a Californian couldn’t understand? The more of the world I see, the more fascinated I am, because it becomes clearer and clearer: we harbor thousands of unique cultures that provide their own beautiful inspiration for the joy that is life, and yet... we are all the same. We all want the same things, we just sometimes go about it in special ways. So long for now Texas, I’ll be back. Howdy California, I’ll be eager to adopt the lessons I’ve learned here, to add to my enjoyment and understanding of this wonderful life.