Social

I often hear of people getting hassled over their desire to do something powerful, bold, and intentional. As a result I spend more time than I should thinking about what I would say to these nay-sayers. Tonight my perfect answer gelled and I thought I would share it just in case it might help a dreamer out there. Either one of us may die tomorrow. I may be swept from the decks and drowned, you may be hit by a bus on your way to work. If I succeed I will snorkel, hike, and live truly, in paradise. If you succeed you will get to work. ...

I just got done reading Ashley Ambrige’s new e-book You Don’t Need a Job, You Need Guts. It’s an inspirational piece in the same vein as Chris Guillebeau’s Unconventional Guides. Both authors encourage their readers to do whatever it is that they are passionate about (though Ashley claims to be weary of the term passion). Every time I read one of these books I think, yeah, I can totally kick ass in that self motivated, self promoting, me against the big bad world way. Really, I’m perfectly wired for it… until. ...

One of my favorite pre-vacation practices is to intentionally lower my expectations. I contend that I am due a single 15-60 minute “moment of bliss” somewhere in a 2+ week vacation, and if I can get that I consider the experience a success. These moments of bliss generally take the form of reading a great book in the sun on a day with light breeze. On this last vacation I got two moments of bliss. The first (which happened twice) was when the kids were playing happily in the cabin. Vick and I were sitting in the cockpit drinking coffee, and Convivia was sailing herself under nearly perfect conditions. The second was when I took the kids to Shorebird Park to play while Vick went to the store. Both kids were having trouble with relationships. I saw at least a dozen problems at the moment before they flared up. Somehow I managed to use just the right intervention every time and their conflicts effortlessly catalyzed into new friendships and joyful spirit. I was in a zone, writing a symphony of play with them and I couldn’t have been happier or felt more accomplished. ...

I wasn’t at home when we were tied into slip A58 in Monterey Harbor. I was homesick. Surprising yes, since I was on my own boat, tied up with my usual dock lines, cooking in my own galley, and sleeping in my own bed. I spent my time in Monterey constantly checking the three forecast areas on NOAA to find our perfect weather window to head north. Again, I was surprised at myself. The trip north is usually hard, wet, and cold. Our boat is in great shape and we could actually (foolishly) cash in Tucker’s retirement accounts and head south for at least a year. I always want to go south, or anywhere warmer than wherever I am. But I wanted to go north, to go home. ...

There are dozens of reasons to love living on a boat. Some adore the gentle rocking as they fall to sleep; some like the gorgeous view from their cockpit and decks; some the ability to take their home on vacation with them; and others cherish the simplicity of living small. I’m sure the list goes on. For me though the thing I love most is the dockside social scene. At first I thought I had just lucked into the world’s best marina but now that we have spent a week in Santa Cruz harbor, I’m starting to believe that there is a universal chattiness amongst sailors. ...

There has been a rash of theft in our marina lately. It started with a bunch of fishing gear getting stolen off of some power boats, but this Saturday I found my bike had been stolen. This kind of thing can really make you question the quality of the average person… until you come back from your errands to find an annoymous gift in your cockpit. We think one of our friends down the dock left the toy castle for the kids. They had a ball playing with it but agreed that it wouldn’t fit in our boat. The next morning Ruby and Olive raced down the dock to return it and were perfectly delighted to put it back aboard Gemini. ...

Today sucked royally. I started the day saddled with the dread of a project (replacing the hot water heater) that I just knew was going to go badly. This project was going to go badly because: I couldn’t get to all of the fittings to measure what size they were and therefore didn’t know for sure what to buy to replace them. The old water heater may have or may not have fit out through the available hole… Oh no. It didn’t. The beginning of the project involved cutting the safety net (all of the hoses, strapping, and electrical) thereby completely committing me to raving success or miserable failure. The space that I had to work in was miserably small, virtually guarantying several minor concussions, gashes, and bruises (check, check, and check) The very best that I had hoped for was to get enough done that I could safely turn on the pressure water in the evening (cold only) to do the dishes from the margaritas. So after a grumpy breakfast, and a grumpy trip to the chandlery and the hardware store, I grumpily made by way back down the dock with not quite enough parts to complete the project, and a pretty bad attitude. I was short tempered all morning, and when I finally remeasured the new hot water heater and found that it was something like 10" too tall for the space it was going into, I was pretty certain that I was going to go stratospheric. When I then remeasured the old heater and found that there was no possible way to get it out without removing the countertop, I thought I would cry. ...

Can critically evaluating your relationship lead to a happier healthier self while simultaneously improving the relationship?

A Friday ritual, inspired by Soule Mama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you’re inspired to do the same, leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see.

A Friday ritual, inspired by Soule Mama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you’re inspired to do the same, leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see.

From time to time I am reminded that my culture has no coming of age tradition. Some of the effects of this deficit are subtle, some more obvious. This weekend, as I near my 35th birthday I experienced another Man Making Moment. Man Making Moments are different for everyone. I suspect many are like me and derive some significant part of their manliness ideal from their fathers. For me, the image of my dad under the hood, fixing, tuning and explaining our car’s inner workings, has left a mark. ...

This is the first chance I’ve had to sit down at my computer in six days. When in the last 15 years have I been able to say that? This vacation was certainly unique. Since it was a last minute (we decided at lunch two days before departing) decision, the expectations were low. Regardless, none of us were prepared for the highs and lows of this last week. On the high side: ...