Smoking a Joint when there is NO Joint, Learning Nothing Worth Knowing

“I’ve been making a list of the things they don’t teach you at school. They don’t teach you how to love somebody. They don’t teach you how to be famous. They don’t teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don’t teach you how to walk away from someone you don’t love any longer. They don’t teach you how to know what’s going on in someone else’s mind. They don’t teach you what to say to someone who’s dying. They don’t teach you anything worth knowing.”
— Neil Gaiman 

Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, or whenever you find these words from an aging white guy living on top of a mountain. It’s dark outside, it’s 6:21 a.m. here, my wife is slow asleep, my cat is at my feet purring, my fireplace is kicking out some excellent heat, and I sit on my magical writing purple bean bag throne.

We plan on working here until midday, we have a couple of errands to run, but then we have decided to head to Salida, CO, and grab a night’s stay in a boutique motel, investigating the little town before returning east.  We have not been that great of exploring our state with the pandemic, but we have committed to getting out of our mountain house and meeting the people, places, and things; we are on a mission to connect with nouns.

As I shared yesterday, I was up at 4:00, we hit the road at 4:50, and arrived at our location at 6:30 a.m. We unloaded our car, set up our sponsor table, and then met with about 80 folks that came to hear our new friend Holly speak about mindfulness. It’s an exciting topic that does not play well in the Midwest; out in the west, we have our feelings, which is mindfulness's focus.

I listened intently as to the importance of a practice of mindfulness; this is something my wife and I have incorporated into our lives via our positive intelligence work, but first, what is mindfulness.  It’s the art or act of being still and becoming present with your situation.  It’s like smoking a joint, but there is no smoke, and there is no joint; it’s a Jedi trick that works.

The program was a success; Nancy Barlow, Sherri, and their crew put together a great morning of connections, information, and some great coffee. I had invited many friends, one young lady I had met online many times but had never met in person.  Sherise and I have been a part of a weekly call helping guide a small group through the pandemic. Unfortunately, now that the pandemic is in its waning stage, we no longer have time as a group to join together, it’s sad, but that group was a gift. 

We spoke of how we missed the connections and how we might retool the call to get the people back together; it was a fantastic collection of humanity, many handpicked by other members based on their sense of joy, happiness, and care for others.  As my wife walked the room connecting with some old friends, I laser-focused on Sherise; who was this young lady?

My wife asked what she did after advising I was going to head over and chat; I said, “I think she does YOGA?”  I didn’t know the purpose of our Friday call was never our vocations, but more how we were navigating our unique circumstances. So we sat and shared some time; I asked what she did; she owns a software company and is into dance, but not just typical dance, the type you fly with the cloth.  I’m sure there is a name; she does that “dance thing” with the name I don’t know.  She also is into music, having attended a Red Rocks show recently, we didn’t get into our musical tastes, too many other topics.

We talked about our Friday group and how we might connect with the others and get our mates together for a night where she and I could play some gin. Although neither her husband nor my wife plays gin, we can play cards. They can cook or do whatever non-card-playing folks do.

We left there, loaded up our car, and headed to Starbucks to meet with one of our team members.  Sitting down, sharing our vision is essential to us; we thought it time to have a conversation to share our future vision of the company, where the ship is headed, his role in making sure we get to our destination. 

We went and ran some errands, headed back home, worked the afternoon away; I did hit the bed for a 30-minute nap; a 4:00 a.m. wake time is early for me; I needed some catch-up sleep.  We ended our night with my executive chef wife making buffalo panko-crusted cauliflower with blue cheese tacos.  We started the last season of Goliath with Billy Bob Thorton before hitting our bed at 8:30; I read until 9:00 and pegged a glorious 9 hours of sleep without waking.

As I read something from Matt Haig’s book last night, it fits with our current situation.  The flexor or flux depends on how you view the world of our current times.  I highlighted the passage, well, the paragraph and sent it to myself to include in this mornings word soup, but all I got in the text was a photo of the book; I should have screenshot the paragraph, hold on, let me grab my Ipad and see if I can find it.

Commercial Break – sponsored by Death Wish Coffee

Well, hell’s bells, I cannot locate the passage, and I’m not even sure what resonated with me, something about England and the 1600s tied it to these time’s; I’m sorry, I’m usually good at grabbing the rue for my soup, but I failed last night I promise to do better.  I’ll wrap up both books I’m reading this weekend and look for a new book or two to download next week.  If you have a suggestion of nonfiction that sparked your mind and led you to a different world, please share.

Over my right shoulder is a sunrise, one of those you dream about if you live in the city, but once you get to live, if you live on top of a mountain.  It’s beautiful; it’s an omen of a great day, a great end of the year, a great life, I’m blessed and lucky, and I suspect if you are reading these words, you too are blessed.  Living blessed is not a wrong way to live, and if you are not residing blessed, I guess I might ask, “why not?”

“I’ve been making a list of the things they don’t teach you at school. They don’t teach you how to love somebody. They don’t teach you how to be famous. They don’t teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don’t teach you how to walk away from someone you don’t love any longer. They don’t teach you how to know what’s going on in someone else’s mind. They don’t teach you what to say to someone who’s dying. They don’t teach you anything worth knowing.”
— Neil Gaiman