California, environment, hope, nature

My Year of Hopefulness – Monterey Bay Aquarium

I make a habit of visiting baseball parks and aquariums across the country. When I used to manage theatre tours, I would make a point of seeing as many stadiums and aquariums as I could in the different cities we traveled to. I have to say that Baltimore is tough to beat in both of those departments – I saw Shark Week at that aquarium and those hotdogs at Camden Yards are the best I’ve ever had.

Being in Northern California this weekend, I wanted to see the Monterey Bay Aquarium. I have heard about it since my fundraising days at Conservation International. Monterey – you’re no Baltimore or Atlanta, though I learned some fascinating things while I was there this morning. They had a few octopi that I were entrancing. Did you know that octopi change their color according to the color of the surface they are crawling or resting on? Incredible. In Boston, they had an octopus who was bored in his own tank, so he found a way to sneak out of his tank at night, when everyone had go home, and would make his way to the lobster, eat his fill, and then get back home before the first staff members arrive. They only way they caught him was by video camera.

The jellyfish exhibit left me breathless. They had these gorgeous, bright orange jellyfish in front of a brilliant blue background. I could have stood there for hours to watch them float through their environment. It was a reminder to me that there are so many mysteries left in this world. There’s still so much more to explore, to see, and to know. We haven’t even scratched the surface – there are entire worlds underwater, canyons deeper and wider than the Grand Canyon, mountains taller than Everest. It is too much to fathom – we couldn’t possibly take it all in

70% of our planet is covered by water so if you ever feel life is too much for you to bear on dry land, I encourage you to go under the sea. Or at least get to your nearest aquarium. It will give you hope by showing you what’s possible.

The photo above can be found at: http://justinsomnia.org/images/monterey-aquarium-orange-jellyfish.jpg

books, environment, friendship, nature, yoga

My Year of Hopefulness – Winter Cocoons

My friend, Monika, was telling me about her recent spell of wanting to remain on her couch as much as possible. Though she likes the winter weather, this season she’s felt the need to hunker down and stay inside. I’ve been feeling the same way. It reminded of a story I like to read several times over the winter. It’s only one page, written by Nina Zolotow in Rodney Yee’s book, Yoga the Poetry of the Body.


Nina writes about her time in Ithaca, New York. Her neighbors had this incredible garden and the summer time lunches they would spread out in their backyard transported her to Tuscany. These lunches would always end with beautiful, fresh black figs from the neighbors’ garden. There was a massive fig tree in the middle the neighbors’ yard and she couldn’t understand how that tree would survive the rough upstate New York winters.

She finally got up the courage to ask her neighbor his secret. It’s very simple – after all the leaves have fallen, he severs the roots on one side of the tree, folds the flexible trunk down to the ground into a ditch he digs, and covers it with soil to rest, warm and safe, until Spring arrives. I think of this story all the time during the winter season.

Winter is a time of incubating, of resting and recouping, of letting ourselves get comfortable with peace. It’s a cycle. Monika’s cocooning really is a natural reaction, one we all should have. We burrow in to reflect on what’s happened to us in the more hectic Spring, Summer, and Fall. And we plan – for warmer days, for greeting friends when the sun comes out again, for reintroducing ourselves to the world when our surroundings take on that brilliant green hue again. 

For this next month or so of winter, I want to have that fig tree always in my mind. I want to imagine myself resting and regrouping, healing and soothing my tired soul, mind, and heart, gearing up for the best Spring of my life. 

The photo above can be found at here
books, environment, nature, New York City

A Change of Scene Without Moving

I am in the midst of reading the book Wild Nights by Anne Matthews. It’s about the world of New York City that emerges between dusk and dawn. Matthews isn’t talking about the party-hopping nightlife, but rather the natural world that emerges when the archipelago’s dominant species, people, largely take their leave. An underworld of song birds, wild animals like coyotes, bears, and deer emerge. 


I think of myself as a New York City expert – I know many of the neighborhoods like the back of my hand. I spend a lot of time walking around Manhattan Island, and unlike many Manhattan-ites I venture to the outer burroughs on a fairly regular basis. In such a small geography, I assumed I knew most of what’s out there in my city. This book is opening my eyes in a whole new way, and has me planning weekend outings to parts of the city I’ve never even heard of, much less seen. 

All this new discovery in this book has me thinking about how to change our scene without changing our location. How can we make our space brand new, even if we’ve been in that space for a long time. And the same can be said for the actual housing space we live in, our jobs, our relationships. It’s about developing a fresh set of eyes, a new perspective, finding new joy and gratitude in what’s been right in front of us all along. A pretty decent New Year’s resolution that we can all make, right 
animals, business, entrepreneurship, environment, nature, relationships, Seth Godin

Lessons from an albatross


Seth Godin wrote a post today on his blog that made me pause and re-consider some questions I’ve been thinking about recently. He talked about the patience of the albatross. It can often sit in the water or on land for days waiting for the right wind to carry it up, up, and away. It can fly for days or weeks, non-stop, with a resting heart rate. It’s an incredible lesson in biology, with many applications to our lives. 


Seth talks about Albatross businesses – those that favor a long, slow ramp-up with an eye toward longevity. He promotes patience as more than a virtue – it’s a method of survival. And this is a good lesson not only for business, particularly entrepreneurial ventures, but also anything that is worth our personal time. This can be a personal relationship, a friendship, a hobby. I am thinking about it in the context of my writing and career and I hope these thoughts will help you think about this principle in the context of your own life. 

My writing: I started this blog on a whim about a year and a half ago. My friend, Stephen, said he liked my writing and hoped I’d continue doing it. I knew nothing about social media at the time. He suggested a blog. I googled the words “create blog”, Blogger came up as the top search engine return (no surprise since Google owns Blogger), and I put up a few posts that were copies of the newspaper articles I had written over the course of a year. I didn’t know what else to write about so I’d just jot down funny or interesting things that would happen to me throughout the day. And pretty soon, I was cranking along with a decent body of work. Over 400 posts to date. Where am I going with my blog? Not quite sure yet – but goodness am I enjoying the writing and it’s become a hobby I hope to continue throughout my life. At my friend, Anne’s, suggestion I am consider turning some of the posts into a collection of essays for publication on a more public scale. Just like the albatross, I’m searching for the right air current to launch a project like that.

My career: I’m 32 and have spent the better part of 10 years intensely studying human behavior and product and service development. I’ve cobbled together this beautiful tapestry of experience with that experience I have found a many colorful characters that have become my greatest treasure. Their collective diversity is a reflection of the many twists and turns my life has taken. I review the expertise I’ve built and the successes I can point to and wonder what’s next? Where do I go from here? How do I know what current to look for?

Part of the albatross equation is knowing where you want the current to carry you so you can quickly identify it when it comes your way. Extending your wings is the easy part. The challenge, and ultimately the reward, comes when you have taken a 360 look around from wherever you are now and determined the direction you need to go. The albatross doesn’t concern itself with the length of trip, his wings will carry him as far as they need to. He cares only about the destination.