Mindless or mindful? →

Published November 30, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 30  ·  , ,

Have you noticed how often we all repeat what we say?

Too many people simply begin talking at another person, before having obtained their attention. This happens all the time! Once you start to notice it, it’s everywhere.

Too many people aren’t paying attention. Although, I suspect it’s partly in response to too many people [and computers and phones and our entire culture] clamoring for their attention, that they’ve stopped paying attention as a self-defense mechanism. Withholding attention shifts the default setting of how attention-getting something must be to actually get their attention.

Many years ago we create a house-rule that we would not talk to each other unless we were in the same room. It took a long time until it became the norm in our house. No shouting from one room to another with a question, or an order. How often do things like, “Hey, could you…” travel from room to room in your home? Our rule forces us, when I want your attention, to go to you. This puts some actual effort onto me, exactly where it belongs. No one is permitted to call from the living room, “Hey, can you bring me…” because we both know full well we should get up and get it ourselves.

Settling into that rule was tough. But part two was far harder. Improving the other side of the exchange: that of the person who is being interrupted, even if it is ever so politely, by a demand for attention. Having reached a point where we each travel to the other, (the first part,) we then had to learn to treat the arriving person with respect, (the second part.) For example, when I’m knee-deep in computer work and she arrives, I had to learn to pause from my work and turn my full attention to this person who is vastly more important than anything happening in my computer. Frankly I’m still working on this.

After a few years of all of the above, I noticed my attention was becoming a much sharper tool in my interactions out in the world. Some of this was surely due to years of martial arts training, but much of the change was due to my intentional practice described above.

(Then I realized just how much of my attention my phone was demanding, and I fixed that shit right quick. Then I threw my participation in social networks under the bus.)

Now, I see countless examples of mindlessness any time I venture out into the regular world. But I also see examples of mindfulness! They’re not as common, but some people I encounter are awake. Some people I encounter are interested and interesting. Some people’s presence make the immediate area a better place.

Which are you, mindless or mindful?

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Sand through the hour-glass →

Published November 29, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 29  ·  

I mentioned recently that I sometimes use a cheap little sand timer when I want to know when to stop, but don’t want to be directly interrupted by beeps or alerts. The sand runs out quietly. At some point later, I notice the time is up and I bring the work to a stop.

Except when the sand timer gets stuck. My half-hour timer—just that one—every once in a while, stops dropping sand. It’s a pretty teeny stream of falling sand that I can easily miss at a glance. So it’s not at all obvious if it stops. I get into the flow of work. I’m thinking, “yeup, in the flow state.” I’m tearing along, confident that my little sand timer will quietly let me know when to stop.

…and like two hours later I notice the room is getting cold because I haven’t fed the wood stove. Wait wat. *taps sand timer* oh.

I can’t decide if this is good or bad. It’s like deep work roulette. I think I’m going to do a half-hour dash, but maybe I’m going down the rabbit hole. I could easily replace the cheap little sand timer, but I like the randomness of it. The analog-ness of it. Not only is its time keeping approximate, but sometimes it’s totally not keeping time.

Too much planning and structure kills spontaneity.

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The calling of what could be →

Published November 28, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 28  ·  

The best way I can describe it is a “calling.” I see something—something being done in an inefficient way, a question asked, a powerful tool not being used—and I see possibilities. Ways to combine things, to expand things, or a small bit of connection that would make two things vastly more powerful. It’s a flash of opportunity.

The urge to drop whatever it is that I’m currently doing, and jump on the new opportunity is irresistible. Not quite absolutely irresistible, but it’s close. I don’t get distracted so much by things, but rather by the opportunity for me to take some action to create, integrate, combine, smash and rebuild better, rearrange and permute. Oh yes, it’s a calling. It’s almost an addiction.

Actually, maybe it is an addiction. An addiction to action?

Certainly, I’m biased towards action. That’s a good thing. As an agent—emotional too of course, but as a being who has agency—being biased towards action is a necessary component of being able to consistently affect the world.

However, I’ve come to believe that there’s such a thing as too much action. It’s completely possible, (exhibit ‘A’, me,) to attempt too much action, to do too much, and to lose oneself in a flurry of activity. I’m beginning to suspect that, now that I’m a master of taking action, I need to work on assessing leverage. Feel a calling? How much leverage would that action generate? How much good/benefit/creation/change would that action generate? How, as it were, does it multiply the actions of others?

That might be a theme for 2020: How much does it multiply?

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Getting things done →

Published November 27, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 27

GTD

The fact that you can’t remember an agreement you made with yourself doesn’t mean that you’re not holding yourself liable for it. Ask any psychologist how much of a sense of past and future that part of your psyche has, the part that was storing the list you dumped: zero. It’s all present tense in there. That means that as soon as you tell yourself that you should do something, if you file it only in your short-term memory, that part of you thinks you should be doing it all the time. And that means that as soon as you’ve given yourself two things to do, and filed them only in your head, you’ve created instant and automatic stress and failure, because you can’t do them both at once, and that (apparently significant) part of you psyche will continue to hold you accountable.

~ David Allen from, Getting Things Done

I talk often about David Allen’s, Getting Things Done. It’s one of a few books which I keep extra copies of on hand to give to people. There’s a Wikipedia article, Getting Things Done, but it talks more about it rather than describing what/how to do it.

I recently found a talk given by Allen which has been repurposed as a short podcast; Getting Things Done: 55 – Removing System Drag is well worth the few minutes it takes to listen.

Aside: Learning when and how to “go deep” is an important part of what you gain when you understand GTD. If the thought of spending five minutes listening to someone teach you something abhors you, you may need GTD more than you think. /preaching

If, however, what Allen said interests you, a fellow podcaster named Jey Jeyendran, (of Productivity Heaven,) is working on a mini series of podcasts on Allen’s GTD. They’re bite-sized, inspiring and you should check them out. https://productivity-heaven.simplecast.com.

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US Parkour Association (part 2 of 4): National governing bodies, Board of Directors, and getting involved →

Published November 27, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 27  ·  

US Parkour Association (part 2 of 4): National governing bodies, Board of Directors, and getting involved

What is the purpose and vision of the United States Parkour Association (USPK), and how does it aim to shape the future of Parkour in the United States?

USPK seeks to unite the Parkour community under a shared vision for safety, legitimacy, and inclusivity.

This episode explores the purpose and necessity of the United States Parkour Association (USPK), focusing on its role as a national governing body for the Parkour community. Topics include the importance of legitimacy in representing Parkour to external entities like governments and media, the development of safety guidelines for gyms and events, and the need to preserve the culture and inclusivity of the sport. Members of the transitional board share their vision for how USPK can guide the community while ensuring that its direction remains member-driven.

The discussion highlights the structure and goals of USPK’s transitional board, including the emphasis on transparency, broad representation, and accessibility for members. The board envisions creating a sustainable framework that encourages collaboration among individuals, organizations, and businesses passionate about Parkour. Special interest groups (SIGs) and other mechanisms are designed to empower members to contribute actively to areas such as certifications, competitions, and educational standards.

Takeaways

The need for a governing body — USPK exists to represent the Parkour community’s interests and ensure its voice is heard.

Safety and guidelines — Developing standards to enhance safety in gyms and events is a key focus.

Legitimacy in public perception — USPK aims to counter misconceptions and promote a positive image of Parkour.

Member-driven organization — Transparency and inclusivity are central to USPK’s structure and decision-making.

Transitional board’s role — Current board members are dedicated to establishing a foundation for future leaders.

Diverse membership — USPK invites practitioners, parents, coaches, and businesses to join and contribute.

Special interest groups (SIGs) — Members can actively shape areas such as education, competitions, and safety standards.

Community representation — USPK seeks to be the collective voice of all Parkour enthusiasts in the U.S.

Resources for members — Providing tools like insurance access, event awareness, and networking opportunities.

Combating external challenges — Addressing issues such as unsafe practices and commercialization by external entities.

Resources

USPK Official Website — Provides information about the United States Parkour Association and membership opportunities.

(Written with help from Chat-GPT.)

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WebSub or PubSubHubbub →

Published November 26, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 26  ·  

I recently found James Cridland’s article, A Podcast Industry Guide to WebSub, or PubSubHubbub. It’s a good unpack of how the RSS-is-a-pull-service impediment to scaling is solved by creating aggregators that support pushing RSS update notifications.

…how does your podcast player notice that daily podcast is out, without polling the podcast’s RSS feed every minute?

I’ve added a link to Cridland’s article to my Deep Dive About Podcast Feeds.

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The art of starting a fire →

Published November 25, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 25  ·  

During heating season, each morning begins with my ducking outside for the ash pail and then shoveling out the stove. Then with a selection of kindling and a medium-sized piece or two, I build a small work of art and set a match to it. I’ve done this, easily, a thousand times. I’ve read one book entirely about burning wood, and several about thermodynamics and chemistry. I understand the different types of wood and how to season it, the convection of air, and I know intimately how the house and stove interact. I’ve intentionally experimented with variations of the art, including working with more stoves and fireplaces than I can recall. Usually, I have a roaring fire in 30 minutes—sometimes 20—with not the least hint in the house of the smell of a fire. Occasionally it doesn’t work well. Most of those mediocre attempts or outright failures are immediately attributable to my having cut some corner. But every once in a great while, the art eludes me despite my best efforts.

There’s a large lesson in that.

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Road trip to Dylan’s →

Published November 24, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 24  ·  ,

This entry is part 3 of 4 in the series The interviews from my perspective

Dylan Johanson / Episode 15

I met Dylan Johanson in 2013. I went to an ADAPT certification course at Kutztown University run by Parkour Generations, and Dylan came down from upstate New York. He hadn’t really had a chance to train with a lot of other people, so this was the first time that he had had a chance to be in a group of roughly 27 candidates for the course, which was enormous. He was just so happy. He was basically running, jumping or laughing the whole time because he had never found such a large group of people with the same passion.

The first day he was sort of playing the, “I’m old,” card because he was in his late 30s at the time, having started parkour after quitting his previous business life. When he eventually bumped into me, it was like, “hey, fellow oldster!” We just sort of clicked, and we wound up walking from the training spots to where lunch was and back and forth. When I started doing the podcast years later, I was always thinking his story was interesting because of—as he talks about in the podcast—his early “days of the ninja”; He would just pick a straight line through Kingston on a Sunday when everything is closed and run over fences, dogs and all that.

He’s over 3 hours by car from me, but I kept trying to find ways to get up and train with him. I made a couple road trips up to his different iterations of the gym. When I finally got a chance to interview him, it was so fun to sit down with no distractions because normally the people that I hang out with, we’re meeting at events, we’re meeting at parkour gyms and things are crazy. For this interview, it was just this chill opportunity for us to sit at his house and relax.

The story of how I got to the actual pressing of record was that I went to a winter retreat that was held in the Catskills. After the event was over, instead of driving the four hours back to where I live, I just drove 45 minutes across the Hudson River. It’s a fond memory for me because I had the quiet drive-time to myself, and I was driving west into a glorious sunset after a deeply introspective, winter immersion retreat.

I drove across the Hudson, and I went directly to the third incarnation of his gym; The gym that I had not yet been to. Everything just came together. There was an adult birthday party happening that evening at the gym, so when I got there, the place was packed with people and all his instructors. I showed up, dropped my bag and went to play on things. It was like the very beginning, “Hey, Dylan, how are you?” “I’m cool.” …and right into showing each other things to try and challenges. It was this perfect, closed loop back to how we met simply jumping and playing.

Eventually the birthday party ended, they closed the gym down, and I went back to Dylan’s to crash for the night. When I travel for podcasting, everything goes with me in one backpack with the rest of my stuff, and normally I just sleep on the floor with my favorite little air mattress. After dinner, I got upgraded to a futon, and it was a great end to terrific day.

In the morning, we sat around his house chatting. His house has some terrific quiet space where you can really recharge. There’s a lot of wood. It’s very much a home. There’s also Tesla, Dylan’s super-sweet love-hound pitpull, and she’s in the podcast too; You don’t hear her, but we talk about her. We sat in his living room with our feet on his coffee table, drinking coffee out of silly-shaped coffee mugs, and just talking about our ADAPT course and other random stuff. I often say that all the episodes are my favorite, but Dylan’s is one of the first where I realized how much having the chance to spend time with the guests before we do the recording changes everything.

The interviews always show the guests’ personality, and you can really get to know them, but it doesn’t work if I literally just walk up and say, “Okay, you ready?” “Yes.” And then press record. It’s priceless to have spent the day before jumping and playing at the gym, dinner at his home, and all night we’re thinking, “what are we going to talk about tomorrow? A leisurely morning with the dog, coffee, and then when we finally did press record, we were just so ready to talk that his interview just clicks. They just fall out like that. There’s little bits here and there that get cut or some do-overs, but it was just so fun.

His story that he tells in the podcast about making ninja lines through quiet, downtown Kingston… that’s literally who Dylan is. Not that he does that every day, but he is literally the person who runs and jumps and plays. In the episode, he talks about some of his favorite spots in Kingston. After the recording, we threw down the recording gear and drove down to Kingston. We went to some of his favorite spots, just randomly jumped on stuff, playing and enjoying ourselves for hours.

It was a fun session for me because it was just the two of us, and we’re both a little older. Now, he’s way better than me athletically, but to get a chance to once again move with this guy that I enjoy training with so much, and in the spots that are his places where he just kept going, “Oh, you got to try this. Oh, you got to try this.” I never had a moment to get bored, he always had the next place in mind. He’s super energetic and fun to follow around.

I didn’t know Dylan when he had his day job. I only met him after he had quit and started working on parkour as a full-time, “how am I going to turn this into an actual project?” job. Simply put, he was trying to create a community. It was in that timeframe when I met him at the ADAPT course. I started running into him at other events, and when he created his first gym I went up. I made another visit when he opened the second incarnation of his gym. I didn’t go up and train with him when he first started his community, but I’ve known him for that whole time.  Eventually he had created the third gym, and that’s when the random confluence of events created the chance to go up for an interview. As I was driving up I was thinking, “I don’t know anybody who’s opened three gyms.” Like three iterations of the same community gym, and that was why that kind of became a thing in the episode; It was me coming to him at the point where he had now done the third one. That’s why when I ask him for advice, he’s very much like, “Yeah, don’t do it. Don’t open three gyms.”

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Sedimentation and erosion →

Published November 23, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 23  ·  

I have this image of our home as a bunch of related-rates problems: There’s inflow and outflow. Energy: In through my electric meter, out through lighting, waste heat and heating/cooling, water heater, etc.. Climate control: Heat flow in from heating/cooling system, the wood stove, the sun, versus losses through the attic, windows, doors, etc.. Mass: The balance of the rates of the flow of all the stuff.

Ever stop to think of that? Think of your home as a sealed balloon which has two, (or more of course,) doors, (garage doors count,) through which everything passes. Everything—no exceptions—passes in first, and then out second. Everything–every single thing, including the people–is only inside temporarily. The people come and go most frequently, (some pets might exceed some people I suppose,) and some things might remain inside for decades. But still, inside only temporarily.

You know that at some point you, (and everyone else if you share your home,) will go out for the last time. You might carry some things with you on your last exit, or you might arrange for someone else to come in, (and go out and in and out and in and out one last time,) to remove things after you go out for the last time. And of course eventually the entire structure will be removed and certainly at that point, everything you brought in—everything that was temporarily still inside—will go out at that point.

Where does everything you carry in from the market and grocery store go? Where does the furniture go? The books? The nick-naks? The packages and packing material from purchases? The clothes? The postal mail? The firewood you carry in is vastly more massive than the ashes you carry out; where does all that mass go?

Based on how the things around me make me feel, I know I have too much stuff. When I think of our stuff this way—as just a mass of stuff that’s temporarily inside our home—it’s much easier to keep my life under control. Too much stuff? …all I need to do is make sure more goes out than comes in, on average, and the problem will subside.

…and I can have fun with it. If something breaks, is worn out, or I’m done with it, that’s the outbound mass for today! Can I recycle this random thing? Can I FreeCycle this random thing? I no longer feel bad about sending things out, (wether that means landfill, recycle, giveaway, whatever… as appropriate.) Instead, I now find I feel bad about bringing things in. Each time I consider buying something, I think: Do I want to bring that into my life?

Tree from Badger Pass →

Published November 22, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 22

Photo circa 2008 from the actual pass above Badger Pass Ski Area in California.

Did I mention I gave up coffee? →

Published November 21, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 21  ·  

They even offered some decent life strategies: look at everything, pick up anything you can, avoid wizards, and always haggle for jetpacks.

~ Peter Welch from, Coffee is Hard

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The quote has nothing to do with what I’m writing today. The only relation is the word coffee. That said, you should totally go read Welch’s piece. You should totally go read everything he’s written; it’s generally awesome and often downright alarming. I digress.

On a Sunday morning–June 23, 2019 to be exact–with a congratulatory high-five, I gave up my morning coffee. I’d been thinking about doing so for months. Truth be told, the catalyst that day was to support a particular lady’s efforts wrestling with migraine headaches. With a brave, “huzzah!” my fate was sealed.

There’s a song by Frank Sinatra, “Hallelujah, I lover her so,” which begins with a telling verse:

Let me tell ’bout a gal I know
She’s my baby and she lives next door
Every morning ‘fore the sun comes up
She brings my coffee in my favorite cup
That’s why I know, yes, I know
Hallelujah, I just love her so

Setting aside the completely wacked concept of your girlfriend living next door and bringing you coffee before dawn. (1969 America. amiright?) I want to just draw attention to the coffee being how he knows he loves her. That’s just wrooong.

Over a few decades we had settled into a morning routine that started with the coffee maker. As anyone everywhere will tell you, if you drink coffee every morning it just becomes the neutral baseline, and without it, things aren’t happy-land. Occasionally, obtaining the morning drug hit would be a challenge leading to un-happy-land.

But mostly, it just meant getting out of the freakin’ bed was rough. …and like the addict I was, I went to the drug quickly.

Is it easier to get up now? Absolutely.

Do I spring out of bed like a happy rabbit? Absolutely NOT. But it’s better. I still need a bit of time to wake up fully–which I do via some morning stretching and movement.

Do I still drink it? Absolutely. Anytime I go anywhere, and I find myself near a real coffee shop . . . hello darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again.

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I am not my work →

Published November 20, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 20

“I am not my work,” is one of those aphorisms that I need to have etched into my cornea. Have you seen watermarks on images? I need this phrase watermarked directly onto my vision.

Long ago–if memory serves–I was motivated by extrinsics. Doing something well resulted in external confirmation; so generating that external confirmation was easy for me. But–as everyone knows–it’s a vicious cycle of saccharine sweetness. Eventually, that lesson was learned. The obviously better option is to be intrinsically motivated. Check. Got it.

Unfortunately for me, there’s another onion-skin layer to peal away below, “be intrinsically motivated,” which is to not take criticism of work done as criticism of myself. The immediate hack is that I’ve inserted a mandatory, “thank you,” in response to criticism. This doesn’t fix the problem of identifying myself with my work. But it does buy me a few moments. By the time I’ve said thank you and acknowledged the critic, it’s become possible to see the criticism as being ‘of the work.’ Crucial moments indeed.

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Colin MacDonald: Parkour design, dream builds, and inspiration →

Published November 20, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 20  ·  

Colin MacDonald: Parkour design, dream builds, and inspiration

How can public spaces be designed to integrate parkour features while balancing community needs and architectural aesthetics?

Colin MacDonald discusses his experience designing parkour parks, and what he’s learned from the process. He shares thoughts on his creative process and inspirations before explaining more about Landscape Architecture and the program he is in. Colin unpacks some of his personal design and build dreams, along with the realities that affect them, and explores the connection between sculpture and parkour design.

I think that a well-designed parkour park—compared to something like a well-designed skate park—has the potential to serve a lot of populations.

~ Colin MacDonald (11:05)

Colin McDonald leaps into the creative and logistical aspects of designing parkour parks, exploring their potential to serve communities beyond the parkour practitioners themselves. He reflects on projects like Rose Park in Boise and Penzer Park in Langley, highlighting the balance between making a space inviting for movement and considering broader urban challenges. Colin also discusses the aesthetic and functional aspects of his work, emphasizing the importance of materiality and community integration.

Colin explores his influences, from urban sculptures to conversations with other parkour architects like Mikkel Rugaard. His interest in creating multi-use spaces reflects his vision for inclusivity and accessibility in public design. Beyond this, Colin shares insights on evolving parkour spaces from purely functional sites to places that are inspiring and aesthetically pleasing, contributing to a more dynamic urban environment.

Takeaways

Integrating parkour into public spaces — Colin emphasizes the balance between creating functional parkour features and ensuring spaces are welcoming to all.

Materiality in design — He reflects on the tactile and aesthetic importance of materials like wood and metal.

Community impact — Colin considers how spaces influence community behavior and activate underutilized areas.

Influence of public sculpture — He draws inspiration from large-scale public sculptures for parkour park designs.

Evolving creative process — Colin shares how conversations and collaborations have shaped his approach to designing movement spaces.

Resources

Parkour Visions — A non-profit organization focused on creating parkour parks and educational programs.

Street Movement — A design firm known for innovative parkour park concepts.

TraceSpace — A German firm creating distinctive parkour spaces using mixed materials like brick and timber.

(Written with help from Chat-GPT.)

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§23 – Learning a new language →

Published November 19, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 19

This entry is part 35 of 37 in the series Study inspired by Pakour & Art du Déplacement by V. Thibault

Chapter 23 is one of the longest in the book… it’s all of 2 pages, overflowing to begin a third. In it, Thibault presents the stages of learning and mastery of parkour/ADD via a metaphor about learning a new language.

Meanwhile, the local parkour community where I train, not nearly as often as I should, continues to grow and change. Long story omitted. These days, I find myself dropping in for an adults, beginners class once a week. A class, as it were, of the A-B-C’s, basic grammar and some short, simple words.

I’m old enough, and wise enough, to know that I can empty my tea cup, go to just about anything and find something useful to take away. And so I find myself faced with one of those kindergarten pencils and those sheets of paper with the widely spaced lines—they don’t want you to miss getting in between the lines and start crying. It’s the perfect opportunity to review so many lessons. To tinker with nuance, to fiddle with symmetry, to doodle without consequence.

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Sunday, fireside →

Published November 17, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 17  ·  

Learning to create spaces is one of those super-power life skills that they don’t—or at least, they didn’t, I don’t know about now—teach in school. But I’m not sure you could have taught this to me in school. Probably best that they didn’t even try. I had to discover for myself how much it matters to have a space, a context, and a set of expectations in which to do… well… everything that matters.

The things I use to create a space certainly don’t need to be expensive. They do need to be purposeful. My particular chair that I use for reading. My gel pens that have served faithfully for years. (A parade of clones, not one super-pen.) The keyboard and large screen for programming. The physical-paper books I generally prefer.

…and then comes the intention. Why am I reading? Why am I writing? Why am I having this conversation, or that experience?

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Decisions decisions decisions →

Published November 16, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 16

Over and over, throughout the day, we make the Hundred Little Decisions: to work on this, to check email, to go to this website, to respond to messages, to grab a bite to eat, to meditate or exercise or do yoga or have tea or watch a video or push into deep purpose.

~ Leo Babauta from, Hundred Little Decisions: Training Ourselves at the Decision Point

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As usual, Leo has this boiled down to its essence. I certainly make plenty of bad, in-the-moment decisions. These generally relate to food or entertainment, as escapes from stress and workload—both are entirely self-imposed and positively feedback into each other. I’m convinced that no amount of good intentions, nor mantras, nor little sticky notes, etc. can save me.

My mistakes are made much farther back in time. The mistake is not what I do when I feel frustrated; the mistake was starting the 42nd task during which I became frustrated. The mistake was putting 47 things on my todo list—not literally on paper, but in my set of expectations of myself. When I get to item 41, there’s absolutely not way I’m not going to start on number 42 when I have my eyes on the goal of 47.

I am completely on board with the idea that what one can accomplish in a lifetime is astounding, and that I can get there by simply doing a little bit, (of whatever it is,) each day. I understand that idea, but it appears in action too rarely in my life. I have a nice, sparse, morning routine and each day—more than two hours after I’ve awakened—I get to the point where I “surface.” Where I open up all the communication tools, project management system, notes, everything… and I plan my day.

This is where I fail; around 7:30am. Every day I grab life by the short hair and set out to tackle All The Things allocated for today. Every self-cursed day, I get to the 42nd item and get frustrated, tired, hungry, discouraged or whatever.

This problem is not solved with sticky notes at the spots where decisions are made in real time. This problem is solved in my first two hours in the morning… where I should be thinking:

What would a good day look like today?

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P.S.: I’m adamantly opposed to planning “tomorrow” before going to sleep. The last thing I want to do, at the end of my day, is wade into what tomorrow holds, in the end-of-day, wound down, ready for restorative rest, mode. That’s crazy. It’s also presumptuous about there being a tomorrow into which I will awaken—the last thing I ever want to do is have someone find me dead, and see the stupid crap I was planning to do the next day. The only sane course of action is to wake up, begin the day with a fresh start and see what it holds in store.

Nameless joys →

Published November 15, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 15

That particular experience—abundant warmth and dryness with dampness at the fringes, and a well-earned touch of fatigue—is exactly the same feeling I had as a kid every time I came in from playing in the snow. It still summons images of snowball fights, toboggan rides, and the ribbon of exposed grass you make when you roll up a snowman-ball.

~ David Cain from A Million Nameless Joys Await

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Anybody else feel like looking back at all the ones I can think of seems almost inappropriately decadent? The more I thought about it, the more I came up with, until I started to think, “maybe I should become monastic for at least a short while, since I seem to have been gorging myself on joy.”

haha no

More seriously, his idea of the intersection—a Venn diagram as he put it—of place, time, and culture leading to unique moments of joy, is a succinct description of what I love about traveling; I’m not trying to escape from “here,” but rather I’m trying to see what’s outside my normally tiny Venn diagram.

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Humility →

Published November 14, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 14  ·  

The artist and the entrepreneur (and all of us on the soul-level) live in an uncertain world. Our trade is in ideas, but who can say where the next one is coming from—or even if there will be a next one?

There’s a wonderful quote from John Gardner or somebody that, alas, I can’t find. The bad paraphrase goes something like this: …

~ Steven Pressfield from, Humility

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Yes, I left out the best part to make you click through to his site.

It seems there are three choices:

  1. be a braggadocios asshole, “I am the King of Awesome!”
  2. be faux humble, “little ‘ol me? …I’m nobody, I’ve not done anything.”
  3. be actually humble, “I’m in love with this idea, and I’ve over here quietly working on it.”

Of course, there’s an infinite range of coloring on those axis. But I think my point is clear. I spent a lot of time over in zone 1; that didn’t work out well (for me or anyone else.) I’m disqualified from zone 2; there are simply too many things I’ve done.

Which leads to the problem: Over in zone three, one would necessarily want to sacrifice everything else to nurture the idea. That way lies madness, I think.

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Nice things or echo chamber? →

Published November 13, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 13  ·  

Every once in awhile, someone steps up and makes something better. Much better. When it happens, it’s up to us to stand up and notice it. Which means buying it and consuming it with the very same care that it was created with.

~ Seth Godin from, Why we don’t have nice things

slip:4usewy2.

I love the sentiment. But I believe it’s actually a Catch-22.

If I create something better—as I believe I have with Movers Mindset—and no one is interested in buying it with the same care, that also means that—by definition—no one else values it the way I do. This leads to Seth’s often talked about “dip,” where one needs to push through the suck from the initial peak of the thrill of the great work, to the second peak of success.

Anyone care to guide me on navigating the dip? How long should I spend in the dip creating work which I think is great, but which no one else values? Face-to-face, people love the project, but yet, no one is interested. No one is buying in.

Constant struggle. Endless frustration. If I was able to stop doing the work, I’d have stopped long ago.

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US Parkour Association (part 1 of 4): Board members, introductions, and passion →

Published November 13, 2019  ·  All posts on Nov 13  ·  

US Parkour Association (part 1 of 4): Board members, introductions, and passion

What are the key challenges and opportunities in creating a unified national governing body for the Parkour community in the United States?

Experienced practitioners work to ensure the integrity of Parkour’s future through governance and cooperation.

This conversation introduces the transition board members of the United States Parkour Association (USPK) and gets into their motivations and expertise. Each member discusses their unique backgrounds and the pivotal experiences that led them to contribute to this initiative. Topics include the need for a neutral platform to unify the Parkour community, the role of governance in fostering public trust, and the challenges of organizing a fragmented national scene.

The conversation also highlights the accomplishments and insights of individual board members. These include creating inclusive events like American Rendezvous, implementing Parkour in public school systems, and establishing training and certification standards. Their collective efforts focus on building a foundation for the sport’s long-term growth while addressing diverse barriers such as accessibility, safety, and representation.

Takeaways

Neutral platform — The importance of a neutral space for collaboration among Parkour practitioners, coaches, and organizations.

Public trust — Building legitimacy through professional standards and governance to engage parents, schools, and local authorities.

Accessibility — Overcoming barriers like financial, physical, and cultural access to make Parkour inclusive for all.

Event organization — Utilizing experiences from successful events like American Rendezvous to foster collaboration and community.

Governance challenges — Navigating conflicts and controversies while creating a national governing structure.

International perspective — Drawing lessons from international Parkour communities to adapt and grow in the U.S.

Educational impact — Implementing Parkour in schools as a means of legitimizing and spreading the discipline.

Personal sacrifices — Leaders stepping into governance roles out of a sense of responsibility rather than personal passion.

Safety focus — Developing safety standards and training to professionalize the sport and protect participants.

Evolving culture — Balancing grassroots creativity with the formalization needed to sustain Parkour’s growth.

Resources

USPK Official Website — Provides information about the United States Parkour Association and membership opportunities.

(Written with help from Chat-GPT.)

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