We can change the world.
Watching the ocean in Kona today
And we’re back. I swear you can feel it immediately upon disembarking: the moist salty air, and the permeation of aloha. Sitting on a balcony watching the ocean for a few hours, I’m struck by the movement of it. Imagine if the ocean, and the coasts everywhere around the world, were as still as a lake; silent and unmoving. That’s not our planet. Here on Earth, the ocean is alive and ever shifting. It’s mesmerizing and incredibly beautiful, and we are so fortunate to enjoy it.
An unexpected destination, on a true adventure into Tibetan China, August 2014
I don’t think it matters how much you’ve traveled, the scramble of packing for it remains mysterious. It can be a weekend trip or a year-long romp around the world: packing is difficult and exciting and stressful. I guess it’s the manifestation of our brain trying to comprehend the adventure that awaits. And no matter the distance traveled or the intent of the journey, it is always an adventure.
Passing through a light gate at the Fantasy of Lights tonight in Vasona Park
They say it’s the most wonderful time of the year. And yet so many people seem stressed and anxious. It can be so simple and yet so difficult… but I’ve found a rhythm lately in just letting go. On the grand scale of the universe and all of time and space, being five minutes late to a gathering with friends doesn’t seem to matter that much. Someone cutting me off isn’t the end of the universe. We have so much to be happy for, so much to live for. And just to live is incredible in itself. While the spark exists here in this corner of the galaxy, let’s rejoice and enjoy.
Exploring the temples around Wudangshan in Hubei province, China, September 2012
Earlier this week when I was running around my neighborhood, a man in a van turned into a driveway right in front of me, forcing me to stop. I waited to verify he knew I was there. He didn’t. When he started the reverse of his three point turn, he noticed me and immediately stopped and apologized through the glass. I waved that it was fine and ran around the front of the car, continuing on my journey. Later, as I was on the homestretch of my run on a different street, the same man was walking back to the van, parked along the sidewalk, clearly returning from a delivery. We recognized each other as he walked around the hood of the car to the driver’s door. Instantly he apologized and gestured with his hands; I had my earphones in and heard mere glimpses of his words as I staggered toward the end of my run. But I saw genuine emotion and communication in his face. As I pulled one of my earphones out to catch his communication, I smiled and gasped, “it’s no big deal, it’s alright, no problem.” I smiled and finished with “have a good day!” It sounds so silly, as so many impromptu interactions with strangers do. Maybe it was runner’s high, but in that moment I felt we shared an honest moment together. He made an honest mistake ten minutes ago that resulted in zero consequences, and by chance we met again shortly after. It was not a big deal. We were both just two people going about our day. And as I staggered toward the finish line of my run, I smiled, because I felt reassured there were good people in the world.
Atop the mountain and the world, Tierra del Fuego, Argentina, February 2019
There’s a time each winter when you’re used to the cold, and you start to embrace it. You stare down the dark cold winter not with apprehension or dread, but with possibility. Our lives change in the winter, as with every season. Maybe it is part of our biological interaction with nature to sleep and eat more during this time of year. As I continue to learn more about life on this planet with each passing year, I’ve especially found one thing to be true: don’t assume anything.
Taking in a wild majestic morning in Parachute, Colorado earlier this year
What a wild amazing world we live in. Upon hearing stories from friends’ online interactions today, that’s what I thought. What else can you say? There are so many people, and living things on this planet, and it’s incredible how we all interface with each other on this planet. Can we pause and appreciate the majesty of it all?
Admiring the St. Charles bridge in Prague, September 2019
How are you making life better for your tribe? I think that’s the question we can all ask ourselves, because our tribe goes beyond our immediate family. If we focus on the betterment of others’ experience, collectively, we’ll recognize we all want the same things. And perhaps then we connect our tribes in a meaningful, powerful way, that truly enables us to change the world.
Visiting humpback whales off the coast of Antarctica, March 2019
When I think of life as communion with the universe, I am no longer disheartened by negativity in the world. We interact with all other living things on this planet, all the inanimate matter in the universe. We’re part of the soup of particles, and we all mix in with each other and everything. We are the universe. With such a perspective, it becomes easy to want to contribute to its continued evolution in a positive way that makes the universe better. We can change the world.
Sunset on a rooftop in a different time, Cape Town, South Africa, August 2011
Spending time with my three most important people tonight, I had an opportunity to reflect on the situation. The fortune with having a family, of being born during this time period with the curse of excessive leisure time… all of it.
Anyone alive today has been given an incredible gift: we enjoy the least tumultuous time, both naturally and socially, ever known in our species’ existence. Can we acknowledge that together? Can we accept that as our baseline, and then exchange ideas to work towards something even greater?
Chasing kangaroo sightings outside of Sydney, Australia, January 2020
I reminisce about my childhood memories, enjoying movies with my grandparents and being so excited to go play and wondering how I would survive without something for three hours.
It’s amazing how much our perspective shifts into adulthood, how much we develop and grow. I don’t yearn to return to childhood, but I hope beyond measure I can retain its memory, the feeling of freedom and visceral joy.
We can satisfy such sentiments if we see this long picture of our lives, and our place on this planet.
Out in the sun, Thailand, February 2020
There are babies and children everywhere! At least in my friend group. That was supposed to imitate a Star Wars intro.
But it’s another layer of crazy reality for me; we enjoy the same conversations, they’re just punctuated by screaming and loud noises.
I welcome the chaos. How many humans have experienced the same as me, over the centuries, over the millennia? And that is a universal experience, that makes one think even more..
Relishing the natural beauty and wonder in Zion National Park, Utah, April 2021
The United States is a vast, diverse country. I’ve been to more parts of the world than I have states, and it’s something I’d like to remedy. Because I think the best thing we can do as Americans is visit other parts of the country. Traveling to states completely different than our own will sow understanding. We are one people, but we are manifold in our backgrounds and way of life. Travel can bridge the gaps, and when we see that although we may live differently, we want the same things, we will insist on uniting together to form a more prosperous union.
Browsing the morning market in Arusha, Tanzania, November 2019
There’s a lot of fear and fatalism present when people discuss the world’s outlook. It’s as if our society has resigned itself to what it deems the inevitable: decline, destruction, and ultimately demise.
I reject such notions of doom. We can change the world collectively through common action. We can reverse any wrong course we’ve started down. And we can impact the future through a belief that we are more similar than different; that together, whilst pursuing love and prosperity, we can contribute to the universe.
Watching water and time go by, Iguazu Falls, Argentina, February 2019
None of us know how much time we have left, which is why our decisions regarding time are so indicative of our connection to the universe. We can choose our time working or relaxing, spending it with members of our tribe or in solitude. Our time, in many ways, is our last freedom, our most personal manifestation of the universe. How will we each use it?
Peering through the trees to the horizon, Maui, February 2021
I believe we can build a coalition of people that believe in the goodness in the world. We can rally around common values like humanism, equity, and sustainability. There are more of us than not. We can unite and spread positivity. We can change the world.
Seeing the sky at a stoplight today
I stood and stared at the sky today and it was glorious. We inhabit a wondrous world. When we stop to see it, we can see a whole lot more.
Looking down upon my third home, visiting again, December 2019
Foolishly, I didn’t realize how much I would miss my Granny today. This was her day. She would cook for her entire tribe and treat us to the best evening of the year. It’s simply not the same without her at the table. And I guess that’s okay; life changes and we change with it. But it doesn’t mean I have to forget. It doesn’t mean there’s nothing lingering in the forging of new traditions. My emotion today reinforces the fact that our time together was meaningful. Her legacy lives on in her children and grandchildren preparing the same meals, gathering together to give thanks to all our family enjoys. I love you so much Granny, and I’m thankful for everything you provided for our tribe. We carry it onward, in your honor, and to honor the future generations that come after us.
Walking past thousands of homes on Christmas, Hong Kong, December 2019
Maybe it’s very American of me to state this, because my country and culture is so young, but I’ve realized that a huge part of tradition is gathering together with your loved ones. Making the ceremony is obviously the function of the tradition, the occasion, but the gathering is the essence. It’s what we’re meant to do as humans.
Looking down on a monastery from the hillside, Garzê Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture, August 2014
Some day each of us will be gone, no longer. So doesn’t it make sense to be kind to others while we are here? If we’re going to be gone some day, might we as well be good to each other? Is kindness such an inconvenience? I don’t see the logic of nihilism on this larger timescale. If I can afford one small kindness to a stranger while here on this Earth, I would sooner offer it then contribute to the cold hard omnipresent entropy. Flames should dance while lit.
Soaking in the legacy of Calle Ocho, Miami, June 2022
What happens to your life’s work when you die? I think we don’t think about this, on the longest timescale, as much as necessary, myself included. Will your work be passed to your children or some other heir? Will someone inherit it with the same vigor and sense of purpose to carry it forward? Will they be aligned to your principles and raison d’etre, so that even if they evolve the work, it would change to something you’d approve? We can contribute to meaningful pursuits that matter over hundreds of years, if we so choose. Can we see past the time horizon of our own lives?