Monthly Archives: May 2016

down to the sea

down to the sea

It was hotter than doublle hockeystix here Saturday night and so the next morning I resolved that we should spend the hottest part of the day in the car.

At least the car is air-conditioned. We got up and showered and took our pills with our coffee and our yogurt.

It being Sunday, and me being old with co-morbidities, I had to first “spread” my pills for the week.  Spreading pills is a Sunday event during which I assemble the fifteen difficult-to-open containers from the drug store, separate them as to AM or PM, remember which one is b.i.d., find the one which must have extras split in half with the pill-cutter and dispensed and saved and do it, and then open up all 14 little doorways on the desktop pill dispensary.

I put on some specially-designed YouTube music mixed with brain waves to increase my attention and focus; it’s not fun if I screw up, drop the pills on the floor, inadvertently put one in the wrong little box, or — heaven forbid— forget where I am in the process and put the morning pills in the night time slots or completely skip putting one or more of those damned little things that seemingly all look alike in the little boxes at all.

Discussing the stay-cool-in-the-car plan with the wife, I pulled up the localized weather maps, forecasts, etc. to try to determine where, within several hours drive, it might be cooler or drier. I had other destinations in mind but the wife voted to see the ocean; there is something about her seeing the ocean; it’s elemental, but I did find an article on the Internet the other day which verified this kind of thing. It might have something to do with Homarus americanus.

Lo and behold, the preferred location by mapping forecasts was the coast of New Hampshire; New Hampshire’s coastline is small enough to be missed entirely as you fly by on the Interstate on the way north to Maine.  Maine was clearer and drier too but Maine was too far and, besides, sometimes you run into a small cloud of black flies. Don’t ever run into a small cloud of black flies. Some tourists are lucky enough to have one of the ten outdoor rangers in Maine happen by with a can of black-fly-b-gon but, if it happened to you,“the critics” would be all over you for killing the black flies about whom you should have been smart enough not to meet up.

It was necessary for us to stay cool because, in our apartment complex, management will not turn on the system-wide air conditioning until June 15th.  In our state, we are told, there is a law that says apartment complexes must keep heat available until June 15th lest some tenant become hypothermic on Flag Day.  Wrapping one’ s self in the flag is only a metaphor. In our apartment buildings, converted from old industrial mills because no one makes anything in America anymore, the HVAC in the basement has one big switch: hot, or cold. On June 15th, we pull out the fleece wraps and the woolen socks because, like the water in the showers, it’s all or nothing. I have a great deal of empathy for my co-dwellers, especially those on the upper floors. (we are lucky enough to have a ground floor unit.) If you live on an upper floor (apparently heat rises in the Northern Hemisphere), you thow open your windows all winter long. In the final month of winter here (May 15th through June 15), some residents migrate to Northern Quebec.

I told my wife that she should drive the first leg (she ended up driving all the legs) so she could choose the destination once we hit a major highway cross-over that was 60 miles away. After the obligatory stop at the local pharmacy to get a refill (it follows naturally), she drove back through town rather than take the obvious entrance to the highway that was 150 yards from the pharmacy exit (the one where traffic comes down off the hill in at 150 mph like it’s on a roller coaster) and went out via the currently-being-reconstructed “gateway” to the city.  There is more government funding available if you call something a gateway.

You can enter our fair city through five different access points off major highways, and there are more backdoors off the minor side-routes. One assumes that there is enough money to create seven gateways but I’d guess that it works the same way it worked when they built the railroads; businesses thrive where cronies of the people who make the funding decisions buy land and put up billboards.  But let us not digress more, time is ticking.

An hour later, we got off the high speed road and drove down into that part of the elegant world where the bankers and lawyers live in their high-priced estates. I  did not try to count the number of for sale signs we saw. I thought about calling some realtors to find out why everyone on the wealthy side of the county was looking to sell, but my experience is that you can get valid information out of foreign spies faster than you can get accurate trends forecasting out of a realtor.  (I love the realtors we found; they got results.) We saw a lot of houses that, in a different era, we might have liked to have bought. One of them, at least, probably belonged to that writer who worked for Forbes.

We wound our way slowly up through the next exclusive enclave-by-the-sea which seems to have become even more crowded since I last visited (I used to be the EMS planner for that section of the state) and then we stopped at a small park where I could balance precariously while standing inside a Porta-Potty and where we discovered that the temperature had become downright chilly with an onshore breeze. Around the corner was the harbor city with the tomb of the unknown sailor topped by a bronze statue of the steersman in oilskins holding the wheel with two fists as if braced into the winds of a nasty storm.  It was Memorial Day weekend in the home port of the Andrea Gail, made famous by the No Name Storm in 1991 and memorialized by Sebatian Junger et alia in The Perfect Storm.

We then slowly wound our way around Gloucester Harbor out to Eastern Point and eventually into Rockport. (It was ) Sunday, after all.

Rockport was jammed pack with tourists, wedding attendees, and more.  We did catch glimpses of ocean, but it was cloudy to the point of fogginess.

My driver asked if Woodman’s was located somewhere nearby and I said “be patient and keep turning left”.

Several long moments later, as we wound our way down onto the flats filled with marshes where more schooners have been built than anywhere else, there was Essex, where the fried clam was invented, and there was Woodman’s (parking in the rear).

We eventually found our way into the “dining room”, got in line to order our food (she had the fried lobster, I had fried “fish”, and we split a big order of steamers), and we sat on wooden benches at wooden tables (it’s the New England way) in the middle of several Latino families talking and laughing in high-speed Spanish at 105 decibels (my wife expressed a desire that they use their indoor voices, a phrase from a fourth-grade teacher and mother we know), twice as many Oriental families (who talked quietly in a lot in other languages beneath their breath), and several old white American couples who didn’t say anything to anyone including each other. Perhaps they’d all been shopping for real estate.

The restaurant worker who cleaned tables (and, evidently, more) wore a double-folded apron full of greasy kitchen splash and a T-shirt which advanced — from behind her long pony tail — the claim “Best Seafood In America” (Forbes Magazine).

I might take issue with that, but who am I to argue with Forbes? We’ve been up and down the coast of New England for four decades in search of good seafood, with a side trip to South Carolina, and I’m not sure we’ve settled that question. The steamed mussels at one restaurant earned it the top spot for a long time but a massive shift in personnel along with resultant attitude shift on the part of the staff knocked it off its pedestal, so the question is still open.  You see, dining is all about experience and atmosphere. with an appetizer of expectation.  Despite the atmosphere of salty air shared with dozens of similar places, the winner isn’t, wasn’t and will not be Woodman’s.  They do deserve respect because they’ve been in business for over 100 years (low low overhead), and perhaps because some of those fisherman don’t come home from the sea to which they went down.

For the record, the second-best seafood meal I ever had was on the porch at the harborside inn in a lovely, quaint, famous Northern Maine harbor, the full elegant lobster clambake, with my bride.  The best was the outdoor lunch of lobster bisque at the tea house on Jordan Pond inside Acadia National Park looking toward the Bubbles.

Woodman’s doesn’t serve lobster bisque.

After a quick trip to the rest room, a quick stop at the packie, and an hour later we were home; it had cooled dramatically down into the high 50’s for the night (before the rain shows up in time for our morning coffee). We threw open our windows. We may have to microwave our margaritas  tomorrow.

source of featured image above:

audio entertainment during the road trip:


The following piece seems to follow on well from “Authentic Conversation”


Written by Rachel Nusbaum, Writer

Filling In The Cracks: Turning Towards

I was standing at the stove in a frenzy of multitasking family dinner, emptying lunch boxes, math homework, a Go Fish game, and feeding the dog when he walked in fifteen minutes later than usual. I barely glanced up as I mumbled hello. I seethed as we sat down with the kids, that familiar pressure rising in my chest. As the kids ran off to play after dessert, I let it all out on him. And not in a beneficial-to-the-relationship sort of way, but more along the lines of I-work-full-time-too and how-can-I-be-expected-to-take-on-all-this-stuff-myself kind of accusatory way.

We’ve been married for ten years. A disagreement like this is expected and normal. Yet, I’ve come to a realization only recently that this is The Relationship Through Which All Other Relationships Flow. A small crack in this connection quickly spreads out to other aspects of my life. I become short and impatient with our kids. I’m suddenly incapable of making progress on tough projects at work. I won’t call my mom to check in on her and I shy away from reaching out to friends. Slowly, I’m building walls to protect myself from further injury.

I realized that I need to make stronger efforts to foster this relationship, to elevate it to the topmost priority above mostly everything else. Those little cracks need to be filled in before they can spread far and wide. It’s not enough to simply get over it after the feeling of being flooded by emotion recedes or to move on and allow that seed to stay planted in my head.

“We either make ourselves miserable or we make ourselves strong. The amount of work is the same.” – Carlos Castaneda

Oh, but how to do this? It takes extra energy and lots of thought and brings me back to my mom’s favorite refrain from growing up: “Marriage is work.” It is not about date nights, fancy gifts or vacations. It is about pulling myself away from the stove to greet him as he walks in the door after my long day of work, bus stop, kid snacks, arguing about super heroes and screen time, even when I just want to get dinner on the table. It’s about looking him in the eye, smiling, saying hello, a hug and kiss, even when he is late. It’s about plopping myself on the couch next to him as he pulls out the laptop when all I really want to do is head downstairs by myself to crawl up with a blanket and HBO’s Togetherness. It’s finding the teeny tiniest of small gestures to let him know that I am his strongest, most steadfast support. And it is hard.

John Gottman, known in psychology circles as The Einstein of Love, describes these small actions as Turning Towards your partner. Dr. Gottman’s research has shown that newlyweds still married after six years turned towards their partners 86% of the time while those couples who divorced in the first six years turned toward each other 33% of the time. There is data to support that these baby steps matter.

I have to resolve to fill in the cracks again and again. My partner gets shoved to the bottom of the to do list. Until the next disagreement reminds me to bring him up to that prominent place where I need him to be and I remember to start filling in the cracks. If I keep this up, it will become a daily habit to nurture our relationship in this way.

I’m not arguing that the partner relationship is the most important for everyone or that we should neglect ourselves while said partner gets put on a pedestal. But I do know that today, in this season of my life, I’m determining to turn towards my husband. Who supports you and makes you feel alive in this world?

Decide to make this person a priority, even when it isn’t easy. Or maybe you need to turn towards yourself. Work every day at filling the cracks, no matter how small the action might be. You will find that fostering this relationship will sustain you and will provide an energy that shines its light onto other parts of your life, too.


Rachel Nusbaum is a partner, mom, daughter and sister who is starting to step out of the world of scientific writing and into the world of writing for herself. Find her fledging work here.

See also ; be sure to read it with the idea that genders and roles can and ought to be occasionally reversed. 

Turn the article’s “he” into a “she” and vice versa.

It’s in keeping with the aikido calligraphy I’ve often used and will soon enough again reprise as an inkeeper’s sign outside my new office; you have to go on over to where the Other is standing and turn into their perspective so that you are facing the same way. 

It helps you see things the way they do.

And it’s in keeping with the poem I once wrote “First One Home Plays The Wife”.



The term Shokunin Kishitsu came to my attention

courtesy of the people at who,

in an approach that resonates with

my examination of excellence, magic, leadership and performance,

are all about mindfulness through art, words and action.  


As an amateur photographer and apprentice magician, I had to learn more about this phrase, and this blog entry is a record of that short inquiry. 



May 09, 2015

Shokunin Kishitsu & The five elements of true mastery

Last November I dined in Tokyo with a friend who was here in Japan on business from California. My friend is the CEO of a multi-billion dollar tech company with offices worldwide, including in Japan. He’s someone I greatly admire and look up to for advice, wisdom, and inspiration. He’s a powerful leader, a successful business person, and a nice guy to boot. So when he said that he was absolutely shocked that I had not seen the film Jiro Dreams of Sushi, I felt ashamed of my failing and placed an order for the DVD immediately on Amazon. “I can’t believe you have not seen this movie!” he said. “I must have seen it 5-6 times by now and there’s always something to learn.” Here it is a few months later and in that time I too have seen the movie 5-6 times. My friend was right, there are many valuable lessons in this documentary. I recommend the movie to anyone who is interested in a beautiful visual narrative that is a mix of innovation insights and inspiration.

Shokunin Kishitsu

Shokunin kishitsu (職人気質) translates roughly as the “craftsman spirit.” The movie, in spite of its title, is not about sushi, it’s really about how to be a master shokunin, how to become truly great as a master craftsman. Yes, if you like sushi—and beautiful cinematography of sushi—then you’ll not be disappointed. But even if you have zero interest in sushi, you will be motivated and inspired by this film. The film is not perfect, of course. For example, the narrative could use more objectivity and a more critical eye. There are surely more downsides to Jiro’s approach (not to mention the issue of over fishing which is touched only very superficially). Yet, on the whole, it’s a wonderful documentary. No matter your job or your dreams, there may be a valuable lesson or two in this gem of a film that will help you in your pursuit of mastery. Checkout the trailer below for the feel of the film.

Five elements of Mastery

There are many lessons from the film, but I will focus here on five main points that the film makes early on. Food critic Masuhiro Yamamoto speaks of what makes Jiro a true master at his art. “He sets the standard for self-discipline,” Yamamoto says. “He is always looking ahead. He’s never satisfied with his work. He’s always trying to find ways to make the sushi better, or to improve his skills. Even now, that’s what he thinks about all day, every day.”

What does any of these points below have to do with presentation? Well, public speaking, including presentation given with the aid of multimedia, is an art. It may be a big aspect of your life and career, or it may play a very minor role. But the art of presentation, and the art of communication in general, is something worthy of an obsessive pursuit of excellence. No matter how good you are today, you can get better.

Below are the five attributes, according to Yamamoto, that are found in any great chef. Think about how you—or your team—can apply these to your own work (art).

1. Majime (真面目). A true master is serious about the art. He or she strives for the highest level possible always. The commitment to hard work is strong. The level of dedication is constant. As Jiro’s older son says in the film, “We’re not trying to be exclusive or elite. The techniques we use are no big secret. It’s just about making an effort and repeating the same thing every day.” Their approach may be simple but their dedication and execution is what sets them apart.

2. Kojoshin (向上心). Always aspire to improve oneself and one’s work. There is an old Zen adage that says once you think you have arrived, you have already begun your descent. One must never think they “have arrived.” One of the shokunin at the fish market touches on this theme in the film while searching for the perfect fish. “…Just when you think you know it all, you realize that you’re just fooling yourself,” he says. One must always try to improve. “I do the same thing over and over, improving bit by bit, says Jiro. “There is always a yearning to achieve more.”

3. Seiketsukan (清潔感). Cleanliness, freshness. “If the restaurant doesn’t feel clean, the food isn’t going to taste good,” Yamamoto says. One can not prepare and perform well if the environment is cluttered, messy, or dirty. Some people say that a disorganized work space is liberating. I am not in that camp. For me at least, a dirty, cluttered office decreases my creativity and increases my anxiety. I am not a neat freak by any means, but when my office is cluttered, my mind is cluttered too (and often vice versa). This article touches on this issue outside the kitchen (A Tidy Office Space is the Key to Creative Thinking.) [Ed.: This is related to mise-en-place.]

4. Ganko (頑固). Stubbornness, obstinacy. The fourth attribute is…Impatience, Yamamoto says. “They are better leaders than collaborators. They’re stubborn and insist on having it their way.” Jiro is an individualist in pursuit of excellence rather than a team player in search of consensus. This does not mean he does not rely on his team or listen to them, but his team is hand picked and trained by him. In the end it is his vision and his responsibility.

5. Jyonetsu (情熱). Passion, enthusiasm. From the very first moments of the film: “Once you decide on your occupation…you must immerse yourself in your work. You have to fall in love with your work. Never complain about your job. You must dedicate your life to mastering your skill. That’s the secret of success…and is the key to being regarded honorably.” No passion, no art.

Your work, your art

The spirit of the shokunin is the pursuit of perfection. The pursuit is hard and the journey long, never ending in fact. But you love what you do in spite of the hardships. The work is not at all about the money. “Shokunin try to get the highest quality fish and apply their technique to it,” Jiro’s oldest son says. “We don’t care about money. All I want to do is make better sushi.”

Remember that the shokunin lessons here are not only for chefs or artists such as painters, musicians, dancers, etc. In the book Linchpin: Are You Indispensable? famed business guru Seth Godin makes the case that many dedicated professionals are doing art: “Art isn’t only a painting. Art is anything that’s creative, passionate, and personal. And great art resonates with the viewer, not only with the creator.” An artist, says Godin, “is someone who uses bravery, insight, creativity, and boldness to challenge the status quo. And an artists takes it personally.” You must throw yourself into it, suggest, Godin, “Art is a personal act of courage, something one human does that creates change in another.”

“I’ll continue to climb, trying to reach the top…but no one knows where the top is.” — Jiro Ono

The final few lines from the film Jiro Dreams of Sushi sum up the lessons from the master shokunin.


look ahead and above yourself.

Always try…

to improve on yourself.

Always strive to elevate your craft.

That’s what he taught me. 


 The core thematic statement in the introduction to “Summon The Magic”, from Chuang-Tzu, by way of Dorothea Dooling:

Once there was a master craftsman who made such beautiful things out of wood that the King demanded to know the secret of his art.

“Your Highness”, said the carpenter, “There is no secret.

But there is something. This is how I begin:

When I am about to make a table, I first collect my energies and bring my mind to absolute quietness. I become oblivious of any reward to be gained or any fame to be acquired. When I am free from the influences of all such outer considerations, I can listen to the inner voice which tells me clearly what I have to do.

When my skill is thus concentrated, I take up my ax; I make sure that it is perfectly sharp, that it fits my hand and swings with my arm. Then I enter the forest.

I look for the right tree, the tree that is waiting to become my table. And when I find it, I ask “What have I for you, and what have you for me?’ Then I cut down the tree and set to work. I remember how my masters taught me to bring my skill and my thought into relation with the natural qualities of the wood.”

The King said, “When the table is finished, it has a magical effect upon me; I cannot treat it as I would any other table. What is the nature of this magic?

“Your Majesty”, said the carpenter, “what you call magic comes only from what I have already told you.”

In A Way of Working, ed. E.D. Dooling. Anchor Books, 1979, from the original by Chuang-Tzu.


American Shokunin (7:22) 


“… creativity comes down to showing up every day and practicing your craft. Creating a space for the magic to happen where discipline, skill and passion all come together in a single moment.…”


“There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.” 

Ernest Hemingway 


Source of featured image at the top: 

Scrolling through a search of Google Images using the search word “craftmanship” makes it seem as though the concept, the word, is about products, tools, fine-finger dexterity and the like.  

Many fine things, works of arts, and much much more come from applied craftsmanship. 

But what about craftsmanship of the mind, the heart, the spirit?

There’s a quote you can find in which a photographer talks about seeing things others don’t see.

What about craftsmanship within the fields of cultural, social, political and spiritual leadership?

hoka hey

hoka hey

The weekly newsletter I get from Holstee (which is, be forewarned, a vehicle through which they sell you their “stuff”, some of their stuff being stellar

— like the Holstee Manifesto of which I have only purloined printouts, but that’s good enough for me, and like their NOW clock poster which I bought and sits framed upon my living room wall)

speaks to a question of apparent interest to my readers.  

It’s the question of creativity, writing, writers’ block. how do you get started, how do you make it work.

It’s written by Felix Morgan, “a writer, professor, and online-dating consultant. She lives in Austin, Texas with two warrior-princess-ninja-superheroes and some other wild animals. You can read more of her musings, emo poetry, and weird fiction here.”

Felix coughs up a variant of Julia Cameron’s “morning pages”.

I do not mean to disparage Felix when I say that.

Everyone borrows a trick or two from “The Artist’s Way” or one of its sequelae; if you can get through one of her books without running away to get deeply involved in something creative that bubbles up and out of you, you are inert.

Julia teaches us how to tap our own wellspring. Julia wants to be ripped off.  Her work is a gift to the rest of us who can’t find our way, or can’t find an easy way, or can’t find a way that works regularly enough to become a routine.

Felix (almost guaranteed to be a pen name and a play on words, a bit of textual felicity) found a way that works for her, and it might work for you.

Those of us who are curious about these kinds of things are constantly searching for new ways, because sometimes the old ones become worn, or too routine or because, like the vein of gold Cameron talks about, they’ve been mined thoroughly.

But at the risk of blowing my own horn, I have to take issue with the quote she posts up from Neil Gaiman:

“Cellists don’t have cellist block.

Gardeners don’t have gardener’s block.

TV hosts do not have TV host block.”

Quite the contrary, folks, and you can explore those realities (and their remedies) by slowly tickling your way through parts of my e-book “Summon The Magic”.

I hate to sound like a broken record but I am begining to get clear on the fact that the results of my own deep encounter with Julia Cameron, the one that took years to fashion, more years to polish, and the grace of God to finish, still channels the sparkling run-off from a mountain of books by experts in sports and performance psychology that you can pan to find your own little nuggets.

Two books in the bibliography by Greene, a fellow affiliated with Juilliard (no stranger to excellence) talk about how to overcome performance butterflies that show up just before you are about to audition for that big opportunity. Kate Hays is mentioned; she’s a psychologist in Toronto who has counseled day traders and emergency physicians.

I don’t have a clue about what it’s like to be a day trader, but I ran a society of emergency physicians and provided educational symposia for them and married a certified emergency nurse/department head and come from an experience in emergency respsonse myself, so I have some feel for what’s involved when that complex and unknown problem that requires your clear thinking instantly lands at your feet. I know physicians and nurses who are seriously attracted to TV shows like House because they provide mental exercise in medical problem-solving. I know a nurse who is proven to be a capable diagnostician by glance; we used to teach people about using a trauma/coma checklist; inside the trauma center, you have seconds to get it right and to act on your perceptions and intuitions.

The mind map and its explanation found at Summon The Magic here inside BoyDownTheLane will provide you with some structure by which you can dissect your own situation and what you bring to it, your weaknesses and strengths. When you find the part(s) you don’t understand or about which you feel weak-kneed, you can start by putting that word into the search block in the various pdf’s (start with the expanded table of contents) and build up a list of pages which contain something relevant to you. Think of them as a prompt.

That e-book is built of an interlinked group of excerpts given some order by the editor; they are all foot-noted and there’s a bibliography, so you can chase down the source book and find it at your local library, a used bookseller, or perhaps online, and take it further.

You can find the parts that I left out. They will educate you in depth.

The e-book is 1,400 pages long so it would seem that I didn’t leave out much, but nooo, the bibliography consists of over 250 books, each easily 200 pages long or longer, so there’s a lot left to discover.

Indeed, it was built on books published mostly in the last two decades of the previous millenium, the latter of which was the seminal decade of the brain in which was begun an intense amount of research in the cognitive sciences, and which also saw an explosion of interest in performance psychology. There’s probably 500 books on the topics that I’m not even aware of.

I stopped and dove into my production phase right after I read about the work and insights of a dying research radiologist by the name of Roland Perlmutter. You can read about it in Tab S, the last chapter of Summon The Magic, “Towards Extraordinary Capability” as told by a PGA golf performance psychologist named Richard Keefe in his book On the Sweet Spot: Stalking the Effortless Present.

When I hear about cellists and gardeners and TV hosts, I have to ask: Have you ever had a bad case of the yips?

Here is a focus on the ten worst cases of the yips in sports.

Here is an article about emotional intelligence for an audience of entrepreneurs and business executives.

Now do you get the point about emergency physicians confronted with a life-threatening hidden internal injury?

Your exemplary situation, your question about how to get started and stay on track, becomes easier, and you can likely solve it without having to employ a high-priced consultant.

I once witnessed an accomplished fastpitch softball pitcher — she held the NCAA record for strikeouts at that time — get dressed down, shamed and berated because she suddenly couldn’t remember how to make a simple routine throw of a ground ball 25 feet to first base with accuracy. Repeatedly then being asked by the opposition to handle bunts back to the circle, she made error after error until the coach pulled her out of the game.  She left the field in tears.

This was an adult college graduate who’d already earned an Olympic Gold Medal.

I circled around the bleachers and met her as she walked away and gently approached and told her I could solve her problem with a one-minute mental exercise if she could spare the time.

I told her about Gallwey’s “Association with the Easy”, gave her an example, helped her construct her own mental tool, and then left her.  A year later she shouted out to me across another diamond that it had worked. You can read more about this technique at the beginning of the ninth chapter, Tab I, “Moving Toward Magic”.


The state of mind reflected by this process, enhanced by meditation and reported by athletes in the zone and by mystics for millennia, is elemental to our existence.

We all have it, but we rarely talk about it.  We intend, and our intentions are resolved without conscious effort. A rudimentary form of this skill, to be able to resolve our intentions, has probably been around for a long time, back to when life began on this planet.

We’ve had 3.5 billion years to become expert at figuring out what we want by developing a clear internal picture of it, then moving toward that picture in the outside world.

Page 3, Toward Extraordinary Capability, Tab S, Summon The Magic


You can become a warrior.

You can begin that process now.





Just yesterday, I attended a workshop sponsored by a writers’ collaborative on writing and spirituality.

A proven practitioner of the art worked us through a 150-minute process in which we defined the differences between spirituality and religion, spoke about the art of expressing spirituality in writing, detailed a list of authors to explore in this realm, and gave us an exercise.

Eight people were in attendance. The writer who led the group handed out samples, lists of authors and spoke at length about literary and spiritual tools available to our use.

He gave us two lists of prompts, or incomplete sentences and thoughts that are intended to jump start us, that trigger the finger and wrist muscles that hold our pens so that they start moving across the blank page. Numerous forms of writing prompts are available in book format at a bookseller near you.

He gave us a short list of his own favorite examples of a spiritual autobiography, some of which are noted below:

Spiritual Evolution, George Vaillant

The Solace of Fierce Landscapes, by Belden Lane

Grounded, Diane Butler Bass

Words That Sing: Composing Lyrical Prose

Testify to the Light: The Spiritual Biography of Andy Gustafson, M. Waters

related articles:

Attendees were then asked to write for 20 minutes using one of the prompts he’d provided. I jumped to a variant of “where I’m from” and came up with

“Hoka Hey”

I am made of clothiers

fresh off the boat from England, sea

captains of Maine, a Scots-Irish artist of the Allegheny region, and Prussians from Ohio.

I arrived three quarters of a century ago delivered of a woman who died five days later.

Raised by a Mennonite nanny, I atechocolate slag, fresh scallions, and shoe-fly pie.

I fell in love with

food at a Pennsylvania Dutch farmers’ market,

stacked hard wood near the glacial brook

babbling off the west side of an old growth forest

filled with rock maple,

and mowed acres and acres of lawn.

I was schooled by a captain in the Civil Defense.

I sat in classes stuffed with only seven other

kids whose parents were all wealthier than sin.

I lived near a eugenicist’s agricultural laboratory

with a million dollar cow barn

and a garage full of phaetons.

My family exploded slowly like a silent dark nova.

I scrubbed the insides of steam boilers for the Dean of Students after we got the news about the dead President. I played games of world domination with a Presidential historian’s children. I played war games with a conscientious objector at Big State U.

Then there was radio, that interview of Paul Simon, short order lessons about how to make potato skins, and lessons in high energy physics, anatomy and physiology, kisses and febrile illness, and ambulance work.

I was disowned twice, and then renewed by a nurse, two athletes, and disasters (both real and imagined).

I saw light in the forest and ran away repeatedly.

I am Hopalong Cassidy and Crazy Horse.



“People who pay attention to what matters most in their lives, and who learn to ignore everything else, assume a freedom that is highly creative as well as potentially dangerous in contemporary society. Having abandoned everything of insignificance, they have nothing to lose. Apart from being faithful to their God, they no longer care what happens to them.”

Belden C. Lane, The Solace of Fierce Landscapes: Exploring Desert and Mountain Spirituality



authentic conversation

authentic conversation

Tucked into the nooks and crannies of the last several weeks has been my slow reading and annotation of a remarkable book I discovered when I asked the Great Oracle of the Web to answer a personal conundrum.

Each of us in our own way and at our own pace stop and ask “what’s next?”, “what can I do?” or, more insistently, “what should I do?” when faced with one of life’s puzzles.

In this case, the puzzle seemed to be about the travails of my grown children that seemed beyond my understanding and my ability to impact in some positive way and given (or seen in juxtaposition to) my own progressions and changes in health, life, marriage, etc.

I forget just precisely how I posed the question to the oracle but, as it is wont to do, the search engine surprised me wholly by almost immediately pointing to a book.

“Here, read this. It’s written by that same fellow who wrote that poem you always have to re-find when someone dies and which speaks so eloquently, which acts as its own expression of condolence and faith, when someone loses someone very close to them in death.”

The poem is called Cloud-Hidden; you’ll find it below.

I wasn’t dealing with death, at least in the sense of loss of mortality, but that obvious clue suggested that someone who could express something so profoundly and so well in 98 words might just have some insights.

I ordered the book. And Saturday morning I finished it as the proud little avian gentlemen chirped from the shade their morning “you and me, how ‘bout it?” 12-note ditties outside my window in the cool and crips rising sunlight after a night of rain and dense humdiity.

David Whyte works in the world of corporate development fostering engagement with the world, its denizens and its conversations; the idea that he might have something to say to people struggling to have meaningful conversations with people they loved had merit.

As I worked into the book “The Three Marriages: Reimagining Work, Self and Relationship”, it occurred to me that it was a graduate seminar in summoning the magic , an extension of that small collection I’d assembled for myself and my children and that, given my intent to offer something of value to them, perhaps I should first read it myself. (Keep in mind what Whyte has to say about self in “Life at the Frontier”.)

So it was with curiosity that I dove into a text about work, relationship and self at the age of 67, after extensive inquiry into who I was and what I had to offer the world, after 40 years of marriage, after 35 years of employment, after a life-changing encounter with love and mortality.

Having raised two children, having had my own difficulties and successes in martial conversation, having left something of my self inside the work forged during a lifelong conversation with the world, I thought perhaps this fellow might teach me something and offer some value to my children. I was not disappointed. 85% of the way through, I ordered three more copies to give to the very people I wished to help, reach, and love. I urge you to find your own copy and read it at a leisurely pace.


three marriages balance


“Three Marriages looks at the triumphs and tragedies of human belongings in three crucial areas that most individuals simply can’t avoid: in relationship, in work and in all those strange and inexplicable inner ways we belong to ourselves.

It seeks to understand the often accident-prone, the sometimes triumphant, the very often comic and the too often tragic and disastrous, human attempts to belong to something or someone other than our very own well-known but very often very, very boring established selves. It looks at what happens along the way when we become more interesting: when we get out the dynamics of self-entrapment and fall in love– with a person, a future, a work, or with a new sense of self.

At the same time, Three Marriages looks at that other equally strange human need, to be completely and utterly alone, trolling the deep riches of an inner peace and quiet

where the self can actually seem lithe, movable, limitless and inviolate, invulnerable to those invisible wounds delivered by partners and spouses, unharassed by commitments, inured to the clamor of children, and untouched by the endless nature of our meetings, all of which come as a result of a deep-seated, not-to-be-suppressed, inherited human need to belong — indeed, that constant basic need we cannot ignore— to be part of a bigger conversation that the one we are having now.” [Pages 11-12]


To be part of ‘a bigger conversation that the one we are having now’ resonated immediately with the central thrust of my search engine inquiry. I’d been in love with people, had been deeply invested in work (of both employment and ‘creative’ nature), had two children, and had certainly spent considerable energy looking into my own self, so this book was going to have something to say to me.

Almost immediately Whyte spoke of commitment, resolve and more when he noted those moments in our lives “when we held our hand in a fist and made unspoken vows for what we had just glimpsed”.


“ [The internal cry might arise] ‘Why would anyone in his right mind logically choose to marry?’ In effect, both partners must suffer a kind of logical self-impairment to make the commitment. A marriage is creatively destructive of both partners’ cherished notions of themselves. Despite the initial hopes of perfection, what one partner wants will not occur; what the other partner wants will not occur. Both are left with the actual marriage: a radically new conversation that is built on the razed foundations of their former identities.”[Page 51]

“What is the thing called the self that drives home from work and walks through the door into a relationship? Who is it who goes out the door in the morning and leaves a loved one, husband, a wife, a daughter, home behind and looks to a new future in the day?”[Page 81]

“… we often find ourselves surrounded by bossy, hectoring voices trying to short-circuit our personal experience by superimposing their own disappointments”[Page 93]

[Julia Cameron does a wonderful job of enumerating and naming these ‘bossy, hectoring voices’ in her seminal book “The Artist’s Way”; many of those voices are present in the flesh in your life and are given such names as “wet blanket” and “crazy-maker”.]

Self Portrait

It doesn’t interest me if there is one God

or many gods.

I want to know if you belong or feel


If you could know despair or can see it in others.

I want to know

if you’re prepared to live in the world

with its harsh need

to change you. If you can look back

with firm eyes

saying this is where I stand. I want to know

if you know how to melt into that fierce heat of living falling toward

the center of your longing. I want to know

if you’re willing

to live, day by day, with the consequence of love

and the bitter

unwanted passion of your sure defeat.

I’ve been told, in that fearsome embrace, even

the gods speak of God.

David White, River Flow: new and selected poems 1984-2007 [Pages 95-96]

source of image

“Falling in love is subversive to societal order, and its pursuit could never follow abstract rules arranged by others with no knowledge of the particularity of the person pursued. Love is individual, as Dante rediscovered, and must be given a larger world than the one that society is prepared to allow it.”[Page 112]


“The pursuit of another with hopes of a marriage of hearts and minds involves a dismantling of our usual daily self-protections. There is a sense of a current larger than one we have generated ourselves, tearing us off to as yet unknown places. There are roads to be taken, tides [or flights] to be caught, and places to go, a sense of drama, urgency and necessity.

The pressing dramatic qualities that accompanied the pursuit are all diagnostic features that the passion is a real one and worth following. For those who can garner at least a little wisdom amid the madness, there’s also sense that the journey itself will provide the test of whether what we are pursuing is good for us, real or lasting.

There is also a sense of abduction, of the pursuit not being a fully voluntary affair. With a sense of being stolen away comes another form of self-protection through sleight-of-hand and secrecy. The enterprise is barely believable to ourselves, so how can we explain what is really happening to others? Under these circumstances, no advice should ever be given to those in love. Blood should issue from our lips before we say a word of warning to friends, relatives or even our children. They will go their own way and cross any oceans in their way. Who, in that state, has ever listen to anything but what they wish to hear? [Page 118 – 119]

“My work is not a walk in the mountains, it is not surveying the undercurrents of a ballroom, it is not leaving troops on the field of battle. It is writing the next word. This task elicits no sympathy from the gnarled steelworkers of this world, but put a brawny, no-nonsense, iron-fisted steelworker in a closed room with a blank page for an hour and you will soon have him donning his mask and very hapily getting back to perspiring in front of hot buckets of molten steel.  All of us remember the blank page from childhood, no matter if we never lifted a pen again after graduation.”[Page 121]

“We leave the beckoning blank page of our life completely empty because we don’t have confidence on the particular first sentence that confronts us.[Page 122]

“This invitation to the depths, this challenge to get below the surface, is a dynamic that faces not just the writer but all people who really want to know what is eating at them, what is asking to be addressed, what lies beneath the surface busyness.”[Page 128]

I was struck when reading about this ‘wanting to know what is asking to be addressed’ because it echoed my own personal tribulations and seemed to echo some of those in my children. I keep in mind Kahlil Gibran’s admonition that our children are not our children (they are life’s longing for itself) but sometimes the answers to a conundrum come when you focus on something else.

I was immediately prompted to pull out a pen and jot down, on the blank pages at the back of the book, those times when I had been able to — was challenged to — “drill down” into the depths. This impromptu list went a long way towards describing who I am and, perhaps with some additional mental trench-digging, who I might become.

The first time this occurred was when I was 19. I was a probationary firefighter who’d flunked ladders and been sent to the less physically-demanding activities of ambulance training and duty, and the dispatch desk, an assignment that shaped my ‘vocationally-promiscuous’ career for two decades. When I got to the dispatch desk, I quickly understood that the work space was poorly organized in both procedural and spatial terms.  When I pointed this out to the skeptical Chief with a convincing explanation and demonstration, he gave me the freedom and the imprimatur to re-design the space and the function, though he retained the right to veto on matters of policy and procedure. This led to extensive discussions that once almost bordered on a insubordinate argument.

In an emergency response system, the dispatcher has a temporary command role. With a quick assessment based on information that has come to his attention by phone, wired alarm, or radio, he asks for a specific response. When he asks for an engine company to roll out the door, though it be commanded by a lieutenant, the dispatcher (usually a private) outranks the officer until the apparatus arrives on the scene and the ranking officer aboard the apparatus does an assessment, and assumes command of the scene and the department until that itself is superseded by the arrival of a captain, deputy chief or chief. No one can override or overrule the first pronouncements of a dispatcher. So the dispatcher must be able to have at his fingertips access to a vast array of resources, technologies, etc., and these must fall readily to hand. Hence the need for the re-design.

The questioning by the rookie of the chief began to verge on insubordination during the frequent and regular discussions among all personnel about scenarios, tactical responses, etc.  The proffered scenario was one in which the incoming phone call spoke of a car fire in the parking lot of a state university facility in the same town, but the reality that needed to be discerned was that the parking lot technically was just on the other side of the border to the next town. What units should the dispatcher roll? The first engine company was an easy and correct answer but, when I suggested that the mythical caller had spoken of someone in the car, I also mythically sent the ambulance, an unacceptable answer because insurance rules inside mutual aid compacts disallowed an ambulance response without prior request by the chief of the fire department tn that adjoining town. The problem: that department was a call department and getting the chief on the phone to ask permission was going to take some time. The theoretical fire scene was blocks away. In the argumentative discussion, it was not even permissible to roll the ambulance with the proviso that it not cross the line until given permission to do so, giving the dispatcher a one-to-two minute window of opportunity to reach out to the chief a few miles away, because it would have been bureaucratically presumptive and no insurance blanket would have covered the ambulance or its personnel. Had they been in an accident on the way, liability would have belonged to the town, and would have landed on my head.

Years later, I sat on the dispatch desk at a large private ambulance company in Springfield, MA with full command of an active fleet of six ambulances and another six on call when I got a call from someone in Boston who said a plane had just crashed at Logan Airport and would I please send everything I had?! I said “no”. I immediately flipped the large desk calendar over so I had a large blank piece of paper on which I began to design an instructive simulation game that would allow dispatch and command staff throughout a large area to play out the kinds of scenarios we’d discussed in the fire department and which presented itself that day. [The final exam on the test for ambulance personnel at the fire department asked for a description of the triage decision-making that would be involved on-scene at a tourist bus crash involving 40 victims.] So I began to “drill down” into the depths of that problem and began to conceive of a system that would use simulation gaming to teach mass casualty incident response and management. It would take me decades to reach the bottom of that trench.

I worked my way through college being employed by this company and had been asked to participate in a regional transportation planning committee that was beginning to look at the challenges of training and development for a sophisticated emergency medical services response system. My experiences thus far allowed me to merge my understanding of a such a system into a public education video that I produced for my senior project in video production. Using a script that I wrote, talent that I recruited, scenes and settings of which I was able to arrange the filming of because of my connections, I produced a half-hour description of how paramedics would work under the direction of physicians at hospitals with radio connections ands bring the emergency department out into the field.  Today, this is routine. In the early 1970’s, this was still a vision.

Later, when I was employed as the first staffperson for a new fledgling statewide medical society of emergency physicians, our challenge was to find more income. We ran a successful three-day symposium on emergency medicine but we needed more balance on the calendar and more training and education in trauma.  A new member had just joined; he came in as the new chief at a major teaching hospital in the big city in the center of the state and he’d come in from Colorado where he’d chaired the committee that oversaw the most successful ski symposium in the country in the specialty. It was like getting a gift from God.  He was reluctant to take on the challenge; nowhere in New England where there any ski venues like they had in Colorado.  But he didn’t have staff in Colorado, and I knew how to find and negotiate for meeting venues. We had Stowe, and together this fellow and I (with input from others) put together an educational curriculum in trauma management. The first year was a financial and programmatic success, and we repeated it for two more years at a different location. The final year, we had over 250 physicians, doctors and EMS staffers paying $250-300 per person for the chance to learn in the morning and ski in the afternoon. I told other people about this fellow for years; he’d quickly risen to assume the presidency of the organization. I said “If he asked me to move that mountain over there down the road ten miles, I’d go get my pick and wheelbarrow.”  When I left the organization, the plaque they gave me said, simply, “Thanks for putting us on the map.”

Later I was tasked with the administrative leadership of a regional EMS corporation and quickly discovered they had not addressed one of the 15 components of a good EMS system: a functional plan for disaster response. In short order, we were at work and developed the plan, as well as the educational and training component for the plan.  It was described by the six-state regional association of EMS systems as the best existent state-of-the-art approach. It was tested during a real event months after I’d been pushed out of the job by a corporate bully of a hospital administrator who had visions of running his own ambulance company; his hospital bought the one with a reputation for dealing in illicit drugs and I’d had the audacity to point that out after I’d been promoting a formally-structured private-public system that involved public input from police, fire, hospital and other private and public entities.  One day thereafter, my wife said, as we gazed out our living room window at the red skies some eight miles down the road, “Don’t you want to go?”.  I’d preached about dysfunctional mass convergence and knew that I had no command or response role even if I was still in the job, so I said “No. If we planned well and I trained them correctly, it’ll be okay.”  It was. I had been able to transmit my best sense of an OODA-like flexible and ongoing assessment of problem-seen-in-the-scope-of-space-and-time, a kind of ma-ai of emergency repsonse, to a leading paramedic and his small transportation/training committee. As luck would have it, he was on duty that night and assumed medical command. He assessed the spatial traffic management aspects of a small closed-access parking lot and quickly organized it and the response so that the critically-wounded burn-and-trauma victims could be loaded into jet helicopters and flown to Boston within “the golden hour”.  Between 25 and 30 people were involved in the explosion of flocculent dust in the Malden Mills “fleece” manufacturing facility without loss of life.

In the interim, I had returned briefly to college. I thought that an extension of what I had learned and conceived might make use of the new technologies of “interactive videodisc”. I learned once again that the academics were ill-prepared to teach or lead anyone to anything, though I did get side-tracked writing and circulating a proposal which I forwarded to a wide range of people. I’d read about the development of a simulation-based system to teach battle doctrine (“TraDoc”) and sent off the buffed-up summary of my thoughts and ideas to one of the military people involved; several weeks later, the CIA called and wanted to know how I knew of the effort which was driven by a pair of software experts from Bolt, Beranek and Newman. I’d also talked my way into a job as the Managing Editor of a company loosely affiliated with Children’s Hospital in Boston tasked with use of cable and satellite TV to provide continuing education to pediatricians; it was there where I discovered that my own poor education and experience were heads-and-shoulders above what the venture capitalists had gleaned out of the ranks of the unemployed. We put 15 shows “in the can” and I started up a similar effort in orthopedics affiliated with Massachusetts General Hospital, but these died on the vine for lack of advertising support.  They didn’t charge me with that task nor ask me, but many of the symposia I’d run for the society of emergency physicians attracted significant financial support from equipment providers, pharmaceutical companies, and the like.

Years after that, having been serially unemployed or under-employed for years, I sat in the basement office in my home reading that day’s Boston Globe when I turned to the business section and was smacked in the face by a large computer-generated image of a wounded civilian lying on the ground next to a Hummer from which had emerged a GI who was tending to the person.  Overhead, circling for a landing, was a MedEvac chopper.

“That’s my game!”, I shouted to no one there, as it depicted precisely the kind of thing I’d envisioned.  Previously, I’d dusted off the proposal a second time and sent it off to a number of people; one copy was hand-carried by the son of a local EMT I’d trained to the neo-cons in the Office of Emergency Preparedness inside the US Department of Justice where it was then given to the people at BreakAway Games who turned it into the online game Incident Commander. I’d also written an article for a trade magazine in 1990.  The graphics were much better in this Globe photo, though, and so I soon found myself employed as a subject matter consultant to MAK Technologies. (The M and the K in the name stand for the very same two software engineers who built that Army TraDoc system that trained the armor component of Desert Storm and which resulted in the now-famous battle of 73 Easting.)

The scenario that the MAK crew was charged with actualizing (our task was the computer game; others were responsible for the supporting classroom curriculum and text) was the outbreak of avian influenza among both chickens and humans in Georgia. [Do you know how many chickens there are in Georgia?  Don’t go count them and began to find their locations, like I did. You’ll hop onto the radar of the Georgia Bureau of Investigation, like I did. But if you’re gonna be a responsible party in emergency response, you have to know something about maps and GIS, or space and time, or ma-ai ( the harmony within space) (The essence of this dynamic concept is that the practitioner must find and join with the chaotic and extra-ordinary nature of what is happening and changing before one’s eyes. ).

Emergency management requires high-end spatial intelligence.  [Hell, I just discovered that Delorme up in Freeport, Maine was bought out by Garmin and that if I buy one of their expensive hand-held GIS units I can get Garmin BaseCamp software for my iMac and can start plotting some photographic safaris….  If I do that, I’ll be labeled a terrorist for sure.] [See three-reasons-why-schools-neglect-spatial-intelligence ]

Picture that small army of people wearing many hats and having differing intent and loyalties who are involved when it’s been discovered that the chickens over on the south 40 are sneezing and dying. Do a rapid economic assessment of how much money is at stake. Ask the people who work there if they were wearing their rubber boots and if they washed their hands thoroughly.  Ask the owner of that facility if authorities can go onto the premises and do some lab tests.  Try to ignore the shotgun in the foreman’s hands. Explain to them that the state has 36 hours in which to figure out where the vectors and fomites are.  Explain what a vector is, what a fomite is, and what the difference between them is. Tell the state’s national guard contingent to set up roadblocks at the intersections to the north and east. Tell the guy who owns the property that you’re gonna have to kill all those chickens that cost him about $8.95 a piece.

So it was time to drill down into the depths again. I reviewed most everything I could resurrect that I had from the North American Simulation and Gaming Association. I reviewed the lessons I’d learned as a beta-tester in the inaugural edition of his “Game of Games” that involved six players using e-mail and a simple Moodle web site. I wrote e-mails to its developer and re-read a lot to the material I could glean from the work done by Thiagi and drove to Montreal where I could meet and interview a British online and interactive gaming entrepreneur.

What I came up with was a game engine that “had five players playing 25 different roles during a two-week timeframe compressed into a two-hour game, thus forcing relevant information to the surface of the tabletop, or the players’ awareness.”  See

Finally, when talking to a physician who felt compelled to rush to the aid of New Orleans after the nation watched Katrina curve into New Orleans more sharply than a Clayton Kershaw offering, I was challenged to put my thoughts down on paper about how America might begin to understand how better to respond to mass emergencies. The result was “Simulations and Virtual Communities of Practice”.

But that was then, and this is now.  Since then, the concepts and technologies have been hijacked into the service of the few and their diseased sense of control. There is little room if any for anyone’s sense of anything if it isn’t in alignment with the pronouncements of people who do not live in the community and whose priorities lie elsewhere.

“Lifting the pen above a blank sheet of paper is an iconic moment. That is, it stands not just for the writer … but also for the building contractor about to lay out a foundation or a baker counting out her ingredients. It stands for the importance of first steps, where each of these first steps taken has to be judged finally to prevent all future steps from coming to a very sticky end. In breadmaking the preparation is paramount. The measures are important, the ratios of flour to yeast, of flour and yeast to water. Kneading and the exact strength of that kneading have to be finally gauged. The recipe is tried and tested and must be begun as it is finished, according to how you want the crust to emerge and the bread to taste. In building a house, the building contractor must lay out the lines of the foundation exactly. He must consult the plans, measure and remeasure, check and recheck. The consequences of getting it wrong multiply and become more and more embarrassing as the work proceeds.

But what if we have no recipe to consult? What if we have no grand architectural plans? What if we do not know what we are building or baking? And what if that lack of knowledge of what to do and where to go is debilitating, and therefore, as it is to most human beings, slightly, or for some, deeply depressing? What if we really do have a blank page?

Contractors may have a level and a chalk line to lay out the line of the wall, but they have no fixed mark for building again if their business fails or if they lose their half their company through divorce or, worse, injure themselves so they cannot do the physical work anymore. The tangibles of work are built every day out of the intangibles of intent and commitment. How do we proceed when there is actually not meant to be a place, because we are actually working with a way of being, a slowly building conversation between what we want for ourselves and what we are most afraid of?” [Page 153-154]

I remember watching Anthony Bourdain while relatively immobile and flat on my back in a medical rehab hospital bed and discovering the value and meaning of mise-en-place, a discovery which eventually resulted in the lucky acquisition at an an incredibly low price of a pristine and untouched version of the instruction/reference book given to entrants to the Culinary Institute of America.

“The idea of there being this code of ethics about productivity was, on the one hand, very romantic to me but, on the other hand, it made a hell of a lot of sense, even spiritually. The idea that by cleaning your station, that sets the table for excellence in every part of your life.

I think many people look at the idea of mise en place as just being something where you prep your carrots and celery and have it off to the side—and not something that has wider applications?

Oh my God, it’s so elegant, this system. It’s not just about organizing space, it’s actually about how you relate to space, how you relate to time, how you relate to motions within that space, how you relate to managing resources, how you relate to managing people, how you relate to managing your personal energies, all of that.” 

Wright spoke to his disciples at Taliesin and to the world of architecture at large about the process used in designing his acclaimed cantilevered house over the falls called Fallingwater.

“One must be able to walk around and inside the structure, know every detail, before putting pencil to paper.  I never sat down to the drawing board – and this has been a lifelong process of mine –- until I have the whole thing in my mind.  I may alter it substantially.  I may throw it away.  I may find I’m up a blind alley; but unless I have the idea of the thing pretty well in shape, you won’t see me at a drawing board with it.”

“Conceive the building in the imagination, not on paper but in the mind, thoroughly – before touching paper.  Let it live there – gradually taking more definite form before committing it to the draughting board.  When the thing lives for you – start to plan it with tools.  Not before…  Working on it with triangle and T-square should modify or extend or intensify or test the conception – complete the harmonious adjustment of its parts.”

In Ayn Rand’s book The Fountainhead, based on Wright and the Fallingwater process, the client says to architect Howard Roark “You’re completely natural only when you’re one inch from bursting into pieces.  What in hell are you really made of?  After all, it’s only a building.  It’s not the combination of holy sacrament, Indian torture and some form of ecstasy that you seem to make of it.”

To which the architect replied:  “It isn’t?”

From Fallingwater Rising by Franklin Toker, Alred A. Knopf, New York 2003, cited in “The Spirit of the Game”, the tenth chapter of Summon The Magic 

Whyte is both a poet and a rock climber, obviously experienced at both, and he says:

“Good poets, like good rock climbers, look not for clinging but for real purchase. People who are serious about pursuing their vocation look for purchase, not for a map of the future or guided way up the cliff. They try not to cling too closely to what seems to bar their way, but look for where the present point of contact actually resides. No matter what it looks like. The point of contact is what allows us to take the next step.” [Page 143]

If I understand this (I’ve failed rock-climbing for the same reasons I failed ladders in the fire department: my knees were damaged through sport and I lacked confidence in my leg strength, and my sense of balance has been dysfunctional at a fine level for as long as I can remember it, and I’m precipiphobic too), I can apply the concepts to my newly-rediscovered approach to photography. I have several points of contact: a new camera, a small catalog of how-to- videos on top of a solid earlier amateur education, and a burgeoning opportunity with a growing file of ideas, places to go, etc.  My “purchase”, or where my present point of contact currently resides, is the fact that I have, in weak-kneed fashion, yet to try the software to download the first batch of photos I’ve taken. That’s the next ledge in my uphill climb.

Whyte explores these concepts in Chapter 7 (“Searching for the Self: The pursuit that is not a pursuit”) starting on page 154, he recounts an experience he had when he was hiking in Bhutan. I’m not going to begin to try to recount that tale; it’s too important and I would not do it or the author any justice. Buy the book to read this part alone. Find the part on page 167 in which he identifies and talks about the essential human ingredient: anxiety.

How many of us grew up with the relationships of others in front of us for some level of experiential examination?  These included our parents, their partners, close neighbors, the parents of long-term friends, and perhaps others.  What arises from Whyte’s discussion is the focus on how the participants in a relationship spend a good deal of their time working with anxiety, their own or that of the other participant(s) in the relationship(s).

The book uses the literary works and lives of — among others —  Jane Austen, Dante Alighieri, Charles Dickens,   Pema Chödrön, Rainer Maria Rilke, William Wordsworth, and Robert Louis Stevenson (and his pursuit of and marriage to Fanny Osbourne) as his vehicles for his exploration of the balance of work, love and self. Each of them shared some attributes amongst each other and with Whyte in that they are writers, travellers, romantics and more. Us too, probably, in our own way. And many of them grappled with ongoing or chronic health issues.

“Till that moment in my life I always thought this is me and that’s somebody else and something else. But for the first time I did not know which is me and which is not me. Suddenly, what was me was just all over the place. The very rock on which I was sitting, the air that I breathe, the very atmosphere around me, I had just exploded into everything. That sounds like utter insanity. This, I thought it lasted for ten to fifteen minutes but when I came back to my normal consciousness, it was about four-and-a-half-hours I was sitting there, fully conscious, eyes open, but time had just flipped.”

“The voice in the whirlwind asks us to see the world without having an ounce of control over it and to cultivate our faith by paying attention to this creation.” [Page 175]

I had that same experience sitting on the cliffs at Pemaquid on my honeymoon in the late 70’s, here memorialized with photo on return trip two years ago and a stay at The Bradley Inn.


“All of our great contemplative traditions advocate the necessity for silence in an individual life: first, for gaining a sense of discernment amid the noise and haste, second, as a basic building block of individual happiness, and third, to let this other all-seeing identity come to life and find its voice inside us…. To be large enough for the drama in which we find ourselves.” [page 34]

“… we have all the five senses through which to create a constant subliminal conversation with the world outside.” [page 41]

[See A Natural History of the Senses, Diane Ackerman, Vintage 1991 as well as Deep Play, Diane Ackerman, Random House, New York, 1999.]



The way we face the future actually create your future as much as her individual actions along the way.[Page 244]

On pages 247 and to 48, Whyte describes –through the lens of the experience of Deirdre Bloomfield-Brown–what he calls a “life-changing encounter”,”a breakthrough experience”.

“Finding the key is it very own human motif. Again and again, we have to find a way in through the door, and again and again, stories say that the key is always right under our noses. We are the ones who turn in the door and open it. We have to look for the key by looking at the way we are made to open the great conversation of life. What am I naturally drawn to? How am I made for this world? What is my essential nature?”

I made a list of my own personal life-changing encounters. I came up with six moments. Listed here chronologically, they include that evening at dusk when I sat meditatively on the rocky bank of the brook that ran off the mountain, the moment in which a lynx came to the brook for a drink of water. I watched in awe, trying to be very still, but the lynx realized that I was there, and looked at me for an extended moment. Our eyes met as we assessed each other for intent. In that same moment I transmitted silently the thought “I wish you no harm”, and the animal turned back to slake its thirst. When it had its fill, it turned and vanished.

The second occurrence was an encounter in the halls of my high school with my favorite English teacher on my return from my freshman year in college, all puffed out in my special ops trainee black beret dress uniform with brass and jump boots, only to be rebuffed, shunned. He turned without saying anything and went back to his office. He retired years later and I found his address through the high school and wrote to him about how, with that moment, he likely saved my life, and certainly redirected its focus.

Years later, during a week-long training camp designed to turn me into an EMT instructor, I offered up a hand-written note to another trainee who seemed uncertain about her command of the content and her ability to deliver it, despite the fact that she was a licensed and registered nurse. That led to a 42 year marriage. The two of us ended up as co-teachers for three successive 100-hour EMT courses.  What I wrote was that her students would be hard-pressed to pay attention to the content because they would be paying more attention to her beauty.

Sometime later, I encountered my firstborn, and experience I can vaguely remember, most likely because he was probably still in utero. He celebrates his 40th birthday next month. (On page 302, Whyte pays homage to the female gender when he says “It is hard to really comprehend how much physiological capital our bodies put into the necessity of giving birth.”)

The incident at Pemaquid is recounted above and has been described several times.

Lastly, what can be called a theophany occurred in the presence of my two-year-old daughter at a moment of her night terrors and colicky irascibility; a hand — in a room in which only the two of us were present — grasped me at the top of my shoulder/collar bone that I’d wedged in to the dormer ceiling in her nursery and squeezed it firmly so as to announce presence and gravitas; it transmitted viscerally the sentence “Be gentle with this child; I have great things in store for her.”

Later in the book, Whyte talks about moments of “initiation and confrontation”, or “seeing to the root”: “… our sense of lack, our sense of worry and inadequacy, has a root and a cause. This root is our desire to have any other reality than the one we are confronted with in the moment.”

In my case, two come to mind.  The first is light in nature, but nonetheless perhaps indicative. I was reading the news in the announcer’s studio at the student radio station, doing a five-minute gig in the midst of the afternoon music show dee-jayed by the program director, when he snuck in behind me — the red “on-the-air” sign was no deterrent to him — and pulled out a cigarette lighter and lit the long taped-sequentially-together roll of news copy on fire.

I’m sure there are other such moments; I’ve either forgotten them or they were inconsequential. The most consequential moment extended for hours and hours, and it was the moment after I woke up from the coma in the hospital having been told and learned kinesthetically that I could not move anything on the left side of my body.  That moment extended and progressed through to the time when my son, the fellow I first encountered in utero, lifted me up and placed me in a wheelchair and took me downstairs to be evaluated for placement in a medical rehabilitation wing.

The deeper you go into this book, the better it gets, and by better I mean accurate, compelling, resonant and relevant.

On pages 256-257, Whyte goes on to discuss “accidie”, defined elsewhere as spiritual sloth or apathy, and conversely those moments when we are asked “to be authentic, and to be tenacious in that authenticity”.

“Engagement with the self reaches its climax with a sense of being utterly alone with the struggle. There is a peculiar quality to the distilled essence we imbibe when we come to this sense of complete isolation. Ironically, our sense of communion with others is enhanced when we understand how completely alone people feel when confronted by the forces that surround them.”

Chapter 11 is entitled “The Art of Marriage: The disappearance, reappearance and dissolution of the self,” and in it Whyte describes marriages as “dynamic moving frontiers”[page 265], noting that “each marriage is a mystery to its self”[Page 275]. He says” To go against ourselves in a relationship is to find another form of self that can grow without destroying the growth of the other.”

In Chapter 12 (“A Sweet Prison: Living with the work we’ve chosen”) White talks about families; see in particular page 311. On page 317 he talks about the conjunction of marriage and work:

“As it is difficult to explain the mechanics of a given marriage, so it is difficult to explain the mechanics of a vocation. Perhaps because that is less to do with mechanics then the slowly building, concentrated focus that gets the job done. The subtle joys of the steady application to a work yielding up its secrets and its subtle triumphs are hard to explain. Just as almost no one wants to know how happily married we are, almost no one wants to know the details of how we gain our sense of satisfaction in work, as much as from its rewards and its fruits.”

“… there is indeed no other enemy than the false self we continually present to the world as the real one.” [page 334]

“There is no self we can construct that will survive a real conversation. A real conversation always involves our moving the small context we inhabit to the next-larger context that will transform and enlighten us and that seems to have been waiting for us all along.

“What we withhold from ourselves is the very thing we need to complete ourselves. This active completion is often seen as a form of death and something to be fought against. We quite often do not want to know what we need. We will try to offer false gifts to the self in order to keep the real gift at bay.” [page 339]

“Vulnerability is the door through which we walk into self-understanding and compassion for others. Being enlightened does not mean that we assume supernatural powers or find a perfection that exults us above the daily losses other human beings are subject to; enlightenment means that we’ve accepted thoroughly our transience, our vulnerability and our imperfections and live just as robustly with them as without them.”[Page 340]

“… the best thing to do is to hold a kind of silent vigil besides the part of us that is going through the steps of a difficult transformation.” [Pages 340-341]

“The refusal to participate fully in any of the marriages, to make them overt and speakable, causes endless friction in a relationship. Not speaking about them, a couple can often become afraid of each other’s desires and eventually see each other as unspoken enemies. To speak of these marriages out loud at the very least creates a crossable frontier between the couple. Each couple stands at the turbulent edge between the surface attempt to control these other powerful marriages and the Dionysian [irrational, frenzied, undisciplined] underground energies that carry them along, trying to flow around all outer obstacles. When we attempt to stop the conversation our partner might be having in the other two marriages because of natural jealousies, we become an obstacle to the one we are supposed to “love,” and then wonder why it is so difficult to make this first marriage work in isolation.”[Page 346]

What we desire in the three marriages is a sense of profound physical participation with creation, the reconfirmation that we are not alone in the world and the reminder that there is a larger context to existence than the one we have established ourselves.”[Page 354]

Also of interest:

TEDxPugetSound – David Whyte – Life at the Frontier: The Conversational Nature of Reality

Ten Questions we should be asking ourselves—especially when we least want to confront our own answers 


The idea of achieving work/life balance is a modern-day knockoff of the American Dream, rooted in the minds of ambitious yet overworked professionals who want to “have it all” — work and play, career and family.

I don’t believe there is such a thing as “work/life balance.” You don’t hear people talking about finding a “family/life balance” or an “eating/life balance.” IT’S ALL LIFE.

Work usually takes priority over the rest, however, because work is what we spend the majority of our day doing, it financially supports our dreams, and it’s a core part of our identities (the first “small talk” question people usually ask is what you do for a living). Add mobile technology to our career-driven lives, and work priorities now have the potential to take over our personal lives. When this happens, professionals are putting their relationships, mental and physical health, and overall happiness at risk.


The reason work seems to be encroaching more and more on our personal time is that every day, we unknowingly hand over precious power to alerts and notifications — distractions ironically set up to ensure we don’t miss a thing.

My notifications come from Google, business blogs, email, productivity apps, airfare alerts, my investment firm, and (what should be at the top of my list) my son’s school. When we’re constantly bombarded with these bits of information, priorities and distractions start to run together, and we have a hard time knowing what to focus on. And that struggle is about to get worse. I’m a marketer and our whole mission in life is to get you to pay attention, to make what we have to say more important than anything else you could be doing at the moment. According to analyst firm Gartner, by 2017 Marketers will spend more on IT than CIOs. Most of that investment is to help us get you to stop, listen, read, watch, click, like, share, tweet, pin and buy.


How do you know when your priorities have truly gone awry? I believe it’s when you’ve reached a point where the urgency to react to something is disproportionate to its priority. Although technology enables every notification or alert to seem urgent, technology itself isn’t the true culprit. Rather, it’s our relationship with technology that throws us off-balance.

Do you delay a scheduled workout because you feel compelled to reply to an email first? Do your kids ask you to step away from Facebook? Do unread emails cause you stress even after a 12-hour workday? Do you check your phone at dinner? These are all signs that you have an imbalanced relationship with technology.


Below are a few simple ways to begin building a more balanced life — one where you have room for hobbies, health, relationships, and personal priorities.


I used to wake up every morning and immediately look at my phone to see if there was anything urgent in my inbox or something interesting on Facebook. It always started with me telling myself, “I’m just going to check,” but that quick check turned into 30 minutes of working, mentally prioritizing my to-do list, and looking for a problem to react to.
The most defining moment of your day is when you first wake up. You have a choice about the first information you expose to your brain. By meditating, exercising, journaling, or doing something reflective for those first 30 minutes instead of opening the digital floodgates, you allow yourself to start your day recharged and aware of your priorities. Learning to control which information we pay attention to — and when — is crucial to achieving balance.


Every year, my company holds a meeting for our executive team to discuss our “critical path” for the coming year. What are our most important priorities? Our departments then align their goals along that path. Professionals can benefit from going through this same process with their personal lives.
Can you identify your five most important personal goals and values? Do you want to be more connected to your kids, be physically fit, or be on the road to a funded retirement? These priorities are part of your personal “critical path”; if you don’t define them now and give them the necessary attention, something less important (but louder) is bound to take their place.


Without any interests or hobbies outside work, we run the risk of becoming resentful and isolated. While it sounds dedicated and noble to focus on work 24/7, everyone knows this isn’t a realistic or sustainable lifestyle. Research shows that this lifestyle can stifle creativity, impair judgment, and diminish focus. Many companies show outward signs of rewarding this behavior, but most people secretly have little respect for individuals with no boundaries.
Learn a language, join a gym, or volunteer at your child’s school. Most importantly, do something that makes you step away from your computer and smartphone. Non-work-related, tech-free passions expand your universe and make you a more interesting person.


Finding a non-work-related passion also involves building supportive, nurturing relationships outside of work. Money and jobs will come and go, but trusted friends who have your personal interests at heart can help you handle difficult professional decisions with less stress and more confidence.

When we take a look at why it’s so hard to achieve balance between work and our personal lives, technology designed to serve us lies very close to the root of the problem. However, the root itself has to do with our tendency to permit outside forces to drive our priorities.

Being dedicated and ambitious is admirable, but allowing work to define your self-worth and identity is dangerous. Don’t let yourself wake up one day and realize your kids are out of the house, you never went on that cruise, or you never ran a marathon.

By reevaluating priorities and taking the necessary steps to unplug from work and technology, you can achieve real balance — improving your health, happiness, and life as a whole. 



by David Whyte

This chapter is closed now,

not one word more

until we meet some day

and the voices rising

to the window

take wing and fly.

Open the old casement

to the lands we have forgotten,

look to the mountains and ridgeways

and the steep valleys, quilted by green,

here, as the last words fall away,

the great and silent rivers of life

are flowing into the oceans,

and on a day like any other

they will carry you again,


on the currents you have fought,

to the place where you did not know

you belonged.




no one accountable

no one accountable


The only one who can save you … is you!


How are Shooting a 12-Year-Old on a Playground and Bombing Hospitals Related?

By Joseph Clifford

May 04, 2016 “Information Clearing House

How is it possible that a hospital is bombed, killing 42 people, including doctors and 2 children burned alive in their beds, and no one is held accountable, punished or has admitted to any wrongdoing? How is it possible that a policeman arrives at a playground, and in less than 2 seconds shoots and kills a 12-year-old, and no one is held accountable?




The officer, who had been terminated from another police force for an inability to use firearms responsibly, is still on the job after killing a 12-year-old. No one will be charged, tried, or held accountable in any way. No one has admitted to any wrongdoing. How is it possible that a 12-year-old in a playground is shot dead in two seconds, and the authorities say no one did anything wrong? How is that possible? Let that be your 12-year-old, and have them say no one did anything wrong. How did we get here?

This country has dramatically changed its core beliefs since conception. Most Americans are unaware the founding fathers feared, and did not want, a standing military. They were steeped in history and knew full well that strong militaries historically use their power against their own citizens, and the founders fought bitterly over whether there should be any army at all. It was the most bitter argument in the constitutional convention, but finally a small military was created out of fear that Britain would try to reconquer the colony. The military however, was loathed by clear thinkers and viewed as a necessary evil that had to be closely watched, contained, and monitored, which is also the view of this writer. Of course the military has served a useful protective function, but since the end of WWII the public has been led to believe the military must always expand and be honored.

We have 1000 bases around the world and the military is out of control. We have lost the ability to solve problems diplomatically and military power is the only tool in our bag.

We resort to war as the one solution to all problems.

Today, citizens who have no concept of human history revere the military. Every sporting event has a salute to the military. We have “flyovers” and the like, which the founders would have loathed. You have been led to believe the military is a good thing, and you should honor the troops, which would be the last thing the founders would ever have imagined.

So that said, here we are. Last October, the US bombed a hospital in Kanduz Afghanistan, and lied about it, then, because of overwhelming evidence, grudgingly admitted it, but called it a mistake. The hospital had given their exact GPS coordinates to the military many times, and had a huge hospital insignia on the roof, but that didn’t mean a thing to the US military. The hospital, after the initial bombing, contacted the US military and told them the hospital was being bombed, yet the attack continued for another 45 minutes. Fleeing innocents were strafed. The military made up another pretext, saying there were fighters in the hospital, which also was proven to be false. The hospital and the Afghan government wanted an independent investigation, which the US blocked. We said “we” will investigate ourselves. Guess what they found. It was simply a mistake; no one was charged, tried or severely punished.

This, by the way, is not an isolated event. The US has bombed several hospitals in the past, including a pediatric hospital in Iraq. Once might be an accident, but when there is a history of “accidents”, something is wrong. Schools have been bombed, entire wedding parties have been obliterated and incinerated. All said to be “accidents”, while at the same time bragging about how “smart” our bombs are.

No one is ever held accountable for any of these countless horrific murders. The military is now viewed with awe. Years of groundwork have paved the way for the glorification of the military, and they are held high above any kind of law. They can do no wrong. But what happens, for example, to a school teacher who puts his/her hands a child? They are fired immediately and charged in court, as they should be. But police and the military can kill innocents, and not be held accountable.

Meanwhile, back to the playground where the 12-year-old was gunned down by a renegade policeman. Our reverence for the military has carried over to anyone who wears a uniform. Most police recruits have a military background, have military weapons, and use military tactics against their own citizens. They can do no wrong; i.e. shooting down a 12-year-old.

This is not an isolated example; just follow the Black Lives Matter movement for a few minutes, and you will conclude that blacks are just targets. A young man is simply walking down a stairwell, having done absolutely nothing wrong, and is gunned down by a policeman and no one is held accountable.

An elderly man in CT accidentally triggered his Life Alert; the police show up, break down his door and shoot him to dead and no one is held accountable.

A man is shot in cold blood while walking down a street having committed no crime. He is shot not just once, but 11 times. A man is shot 41 times by police in NYC. No officer was found to have did anything wrong.

Space prevents me from continuing with the senseless slaughter by police. They are viewed as an extension of the military, and so, like the military, can do no wrong. How far we have strayed! It is too bad we have no appreciation for the history of mankind and the history of military forces.

The military is so worshipped it consumes most of the available tax money. While cutting every social program possible, the military budget is increased every year. We spend more on the military and security than the rest of the world put together, while slashing all programs for people and infrastructure. This writer will undoubtedly be disparaged for distrusting the military, which proves the point of this article.

Next time you watch a sporting event and see a “flyover” by machines that are designed to kill, stop and ask: What is the possible connection between a sporting event and a “flyover” by killing machines? The answer is simple. There isn’t any, but it does reinforce the concept of reverence for the military.

Most argue that “our” military will never use its power on its own people. Do you see what the police are doing? We are close. Where does it say the US military is an exception to all of human history?

Joe Clifford lives in Rhode Island. 


“… The Collective does not have imagination. It poaches on individuals with imagination…..” 


Editors’ Note: It is appropriate to announce in advance that these three blogs will undergo some change in the not-too-distant future. I speak mostly of Occurrences, but also its siblings The Sullen Bell and BoyDownTheLane

While I will continue to be interested in news and politics, and will probably remain active in writing about them, transition is upon us, and me in particular. 

The world of social media and the Internet is undergoing significant centralization and compression; one lone individual canot have much impact against the combined weight of the US government and its corporate/intel complex, the social engineering thrusts of the Tavistock crowd, or the stupidly unwavering commitment to warfare and other forms of militancy. 

The continuation of a news aggregating entity like Occurrences must involve others, higher IT skills, some automation, more voices, the next higher level of creativity and interaction, fresh ideas, sale of the web site(s), or abandonment. 

I invite suggestions and input via the contact pages at any of the three sites.