“we feel, yet we don’t understand why...” 



The story of life is widely misrepresented by the myths and legends permeating our short period of existence with the capacity to express what that means. A hundred years of progress feels like all of time memorial. A generation connects with what they view as their privilege, and dismisses the acknowledgement of the past as the precursor to today. The challenges of tomorrow lie dormant in the vision of today. We fail to imagine what lives in the future, if we bask within the jaded accomplishments of the past. You can’t see tomorrow, if you don’t recognize today...



   “...we live as though”




The future of life for this planet comes with the acknowledgement of its ties to the abundance of the universe absent from the exploitation of the precious scarcity we focus on. Carbon and water provide the life we know, with all of its written history. Nuclear fusion is the gateway to life’s extension beyond our moral inabilities with practices such as greed and power. Reckless profitability has corrupted our ability to perceive the best path for sustainability of everything. Instead we promote justice and a symbolic righteousness for building fear is much easier than creating understanding. 


     “...birthday cake”

   “...birthday cake”



   “Less...is more”

How often do we overstate the complexity of a situation, when searching for a solution? If you’re a modern technologically engaged 21st Century person, quite often. Don’t get me wrong, life increases in its minimal complexity with every add on of innovation, but how we apply that latest understanding still ties back to a basic existence for each of us. Communication is obviously such a big aspect of this paradigm, with the advent of smartphones and social media taking command of a significant apportioned of the conscious objective. Reaching outward to the community at large has replaced reaching inward to thy known self. Gossip and opinions rule the day for this social inner action, spreading us into tightly bound subcultures focused on separation, not connection. There is a cycle to this madness, as a minority of early adopters shift towards advanced realities, leaving behind the thickest portion of the bell curve distribution to continue in their indulgence. 


We have always pondered the concept of time within this species of ours. Look how long it took us to formulate a reasonable theory of how to track its passing. Most people during the great Egyptian times were completely oblivious to what any unit of unit of time short of a sunrise/sunset meant to their lives. There were no time pieces to coordinate meetings with, and sundials were community things, that only the anointed elite possessed. Try to imagine your life absent of some form of clock! Yet, even with the advent of portable personal time tracking devices, the concept of time remains contextually bound to our immediate surroundings. We use the cognitive powers of memory and imagination to shift outside the present moment, even that fails to deliver perspective for a meaningful understanding of the effects of time on changes. Humans talk and write extensively on their thoughts outside of a moment, only to marginalize all that by discounting the value of one moment, whenever convenient. “Aww...I’ll deal with that matter later on” Instead of ranking moments by perceived emotional significance, couldn’t we plot their impact on a larger scale? Autonomically, we are budgeted by the bodies basic needs in order to survive. We breathe, and circulate that intake of oxygen through our bloodstream without a millisecond of consideration for why. Can we not also apply some degree of conscious budgeting to our lives as well? 


We are inherently social creatures, searching for a sense of belonging as evident with our fascination for social media connectivity. Satisfying whatever emotional longings we possess by searching for some missing recognition or purpose. Time, on the other hand, know no sense of emotional satisfaction. The merging of these two aspects of our lives would seem to be huge benefit for productively growing beyond the constraints of our past self's. Rather than gorging at the "All you can feel" buffet for emotional engagement, place some budgeting measuring into the moment by moment construct of each and every day. Stop allowing these emotions to build and linger within our lives, and measure the context of how that specific feeling will be used outside of that precise occurrence. We discard shit all the fucking time, that fails to serve any useful future purpose. So, why don't we budget our emotions in a similar manner? Surveying the lifespan of any event, and scrutinizing it's utility value over any meaningful span of time, begins the process of reconciling this auditing process for living in a satisfied sense of now for every moment of your life. Think about the "Why" of lingering in any expanded emotional contemplation over pieces of time and life. If your now is at a constant level of full, where's the capacity for past and future. If your now is cluttered with too much past and future, what does that suggest about your now? Regardless of how you perceive all of this for your life, time marches on, and your life is a finite segment of it's measurement. Time is the currency for what measures fulfillment, not bundles of feelings existing only in your consciousness... 


"All work and no play...makes Jack a dull boy"

I fish to avert the dull boy syndrome in my life. My wife would suggest it's more of a male bonding ritual, but either way I do enjoy the brief diversion from the everyday. There are a multitude of activities people use for this same purpose, but I've been fishing since I was two years old. It delivers a level of satisfaction, and feeds the me beneath the surface, down at a core level of personal being. It’s difficult to articulate without sounding somewhat selfish to myself, but there’s so much more to the balance it delivers to the rest of my life. 


Our tournament was canceled due to a thick fog covering the lake. It was unsafe to allow the participants to blast off in boats capable of sixty plus miles per hour speeds. While we waited for the tournament director to reach this conclusion, we spent five hours under the pavilion socializing with other fishermen. Granted, there were a couple of female anglers in the crowd, the vast majority though were men ranging from their late teens to maybe early seventies. The median age fell somewhere in the mid forty’s, so a somewhat older demographic. This common thread woven through this group of individuals is their passion for fishing. Competition amongst any group of similarly persuaded folks adds some kindling to that passionate fire, but the spark lies within the therapy of fishing. Countless stories of precious moments spent engaged in the quest to master a species existing for thousands of years with nothing more than the instinct to survive. Their voices rise, and eyes widen as those stories roll off their tongues, just as if they were actually in that very moment all over again. No talk of politics or ideology of any kind there. No disagreements over being right or wrong. Not so much as a cross word about race, gender, or ethnicity. No, these people bond over a hobby that fills something inside them, as it does for me. Each of us caught within an unexplainable serinity over being on the water, trying desperately to identify how to better understand a fish...