Life at an Unsquared 90 Degrees

 

My wife and I went to see famed jazz trumpeter, Wayne Bergeron the other night.  It was wild and beautiful.  As we were getting into the syncopated beat and delighted by the range of his magical trumpet, we asked ourselves if our architect friend, Dave would be into jazz. We thought "There's no way someone with an exact mind would be into the un-exactedness of jazz."

Remember...close enough for jazz. 

But then we remembered, Dave was totally into Dave Brubeck. 

Brubeck...the father of cool jazz; the unlikely matrimony of bebop and big band combining frenetic chaos with silky smooth undertones.  Brubeck's music had a random exactness to it. Coordinated spontaneity. 

The Unsquare dance.  A delightful morsel of his music, which combined blues, jazz, and country western, was edgy, cool, and undefined.  But there were precise corners to the piece too. 

As my wife and I broke down our evening, we started talking about our friend again and realized his delicate balance of structure and bedlam was a microcosm of life. 

Life has wide bumpers, baby, and use every inch of them.  Draw outside the lines and not off the paper. Be adventurous and humble.  Ride the teeter-totter between falling off and balance. Experience everything life has to offer and be selective. 

Life is jazz.  Fun, unexpected, and crazy, with notes to live by. 

"Jazz is about freedom within discipline." 

Jazz and life.  It's a gas. 

Dig it?  

Random Thoughts from the Road

As the ice melts and the wick burns...

Randomness rules. 

Tobacco candles are sublime...especially in hotel rooms. 

As a middle infielder, you need to trust your first baseman...unless he sleeps with your wife. 

There is still nothing quite like turning the pages of a real book. 

There's no better brotherhood than a tight-knit coaching staff. 

Basil Hayden is delicious. 

Those who are critical of talent that executes "dog and pony" flawlessly don't know a dog's ass from a pony's. 

Quarterbacks and Tight Ends...the linchpins of a successful offense. 

M*A*S*H was brilliant. 

Lust is better when married to love. 

Enjoy every sunset and sunrise you can. 

Spooning is a lost art. 

Dave Brubeck is still cool. 

And...

Those who are truly wealthy, don't show their wallet.  Those who are truly smart, think quietly.  

I'll take another...

...just put it on my tab. 

Let's Just Call it a Ghost Cat

 

Walter Mitty:  When are you going to take it? 

Sean O'Connell: Sometimes I don't.  If I like a moment, for me, personally, I don't like to have the distraction of the camera.  I just want to stay in it. 

Walter Mitty:  Stay in it? 

Sean O'Connell:  Yeah.  Right there.  Right here. 

This is the exchange between Ben Stiller's character, Walter Mitty, and Sean Penn's character, Sean O'Connell in The Secret Life of Walter Mitty where O'Connell is a world-renowned photographer and Mitty is a Negative Assets Manager at Life Magazine. O'Connell passes on capturing a picture of a beautiful Snow Leopard in favor of capturing the moment. 

We all are guilty of missing the moment sometimes.  We drift away from the moment because of the past.  We dream away the moment because of the future.  Our commitment to the moment is destroyed because of some other distraction and it's lost forever. 

Alan Watts, an English writer, speaker, and self-styled "philosophical entertainer" said it best, "I have realized that the past and the future are real illusions, that they exist in the present, which is what there is and all there is." 

The Pike Place Fish Market was the impetus for The Fish Philosophy, training that inspires workplaces and individuals to choose to create the kind of life they desire.  One of their pillars is to "Be there."  Be emotionally present for people in the moment. 

Enjoying the moment.  Living the moment.  Savoring the moment as you would your last bite of your favorite meal. This is the key to life. 

Put down the phone. Stop over-thinking the past and hopelessly waiting for the future.  And just be right there. 

Right here. 

I Resolve

 

It's January 3rd.  I've yet to make a New Year's Resolution. 

It's tradition, right?  You can already see the weight loss, cottage cheese, and Pelaton ads screaming at you letting you know "This is the year." 

Here's the thing...

Your resolution should not be an annual ritual that comes around every 365 days.  It should be a monthly resolution...a weekly resolution...a daily resolution (Hell, make it an hourly resolution if you can). 

Wake up and resolve. 

I resolve...to be "there" more.  To stay in the moment. 

I resolve...to read more.  To feel the pages in my hands and absorb the fiction and non. 

I resolve...to get back into Yoga. It's a wonderful physical and mental stretch. 

I resolve...to tell people I love them more. 

I resolve...to try to not worry about making moments 'perfect.' 

I resolve...to drink more water. 

I resolve...to eliminate debt.

I resolve...to walk more. 

I resolve...to learn from the past, but not live in it. 

I resolve...to forgive (maybe, not forget). 

I resolve...to exhale. 

I resolve...

...to continue to try to resolve. 

Under The Tuscan Neon

Have you ever seen "Under The Tuscan Sun" with Diane Lane? 

It's a beautiful film about a woman who is lost and finds herself again in golden Tuscany. 

As we watch her slowly regain her footing in life, she continues to look out her window and catches a glimpse of an older man who also appears lost as he sadly puts flowers out on a pedestal. 

He was mourning the loss of his wife. 

Last night, at our favorite watering hole, my wife noticed an older man at the bar and said "That's the man from Under the Tuscan Sun." Not literally, but figurately.  My wife said he was looking for something. There was a sadness in him.  My wife noticed his book and engaged in conversation.  It turns out his wife was in the hospital in critical care after open heart surgery. 

My wife was so right.  The random stranger in the bar was hurting. As we talked to him into the night, he talked about his architecture career, his love of trains, and life with his wife Helen.  His sadness ceased growing for a moment in time. 

Once again, art imitated life. 

Once Diane Lane's character starts to really find herself, she finally catches the eye of the old man and he doffs his cap in acknowledgment as if to say "I see you and I know you have hurt too." 

I've often talked about human connections and how important they are. However random they appear, they serve a purpose. 

Bar neon or a Tuscan sun.

Both shine light into darkness. 

Scar Tissue

 

You aren't sure how it happened.  You aren't sure where it happened. But, nevertheless, it indeed happened. 

The pain was real.  And in the moment, in the actual heat of the moment, you couldn't fathom how long you could endure. 

But then, without warning, and seemingly without origin, the pain lessened. The clouds moved away and the sun, indeed, did come up again. 

Minutes turn into hours and hours turn into days and before you know it, the wound is healed.  Except one thing lingered; a scar. A simple, yet complex reminder of what was and what you had to do to get to what will be. 

A scar is not a defect.  A scar is not a blemish.  A scar is a beautiful symbol of endurance, strength, of challenges, won and lost from days gone by.  It's the outward-facing reminder of what is inside of us. It's what allows us to remember the past, not live in it and it propels us forward. 

Don't look down on your scars. Don't cover up your scars. Celebrate them and take pride in the healing that you have created. 

Sometimes they do fade, sometimes not. 

All good either way. 

Two Roads Diverged...

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 
And sorry I could not travel both 
And be one traveler, long I stood 
And looked down one as far as I could 
To where it bent in the undergrowth

Of course, that is the beginning of Robert Frost's beautiful versification "The Road Not Taken." 

I've always related to Frost and this specific piece of poetry because of the final stage of the verse...

"two roads diverged in a wood, and I...I took the one less traveled by and that has made all the difference."

As I sit in the Autumn of the year and look back at how I got here, I realize...I have taken the one less traveled.  

Whether it be a choice made for me or a choice made on my own, there haven't been a lot of passersby on this trail.  Every once in a while, a random straggler shows up but for the most part, I have been Sal Paradise sans Dean Moriarty. 

And that has made all the difference. 

Regrets?  I've had a few.  But, overall, not a bad trip at all. 

The road is life.  Enjoy the ride.