Started the day with these issues:
1. It was Monday
2. My check-engine light was on.
3. A fee in my checking account needed to be fought back.
4. A disabling blue screen greeted me when I turned on my laptop.
5. And my daughter was home sick for an eighth day with mono, yet her tuition bills keep coming.

By day’s end...
1. Monday was over.
2. The check-engine light had turned itself off. (Really… it just went out.)
3. The checking account fee was reversed after just a very brief call to my local branch.
4. The IT guru in my office disabled the blue screen, unshackling my beloved laptop.
5. My daughter began smiling and laughing again, and wants to return to her dorm room tomorrow.

Life’s Lesson: KEEP YOUR CHIN UP PEOPLE. Your fortunes can turn in a hurry.

While relieving myself I’m reading a small placard in the men’s room declaring Tysons Corner Center’s commitment to protecting the environment. The new waterless urinal I’m leaking into saves 40 gallons of water a day. And I think how ridiculously ironic it is that the largest shopping mall in the D.C. area, whose sole purpose is to entrap consumers into purchasing things they don’t need, thinks that saving a few gallons of water offsets the otherwise extreme waste of their operation.

If they truly cared about the environment, they’d close down the stores in their eco-friendly mall that sell worthless and wasteful merchandise, the production of which does a hell of a lot more damage to the environment than 40 gallons of flushed pee.

Do consumers really need jelly beans replicating every flavor known to man? Or shoes to match the color of each blouse they own? Or a replica jersey of the latest popular Redskin? Or an over-decorated cardboard cup with accompanying zarf that’s promptly discarded after sipping an over-priced and over-flavored coffee from Starbucks?

I’m leaving Tysons with a strong urge break out my shovel and plant a tree when I get home.

A few days ago I was at the kitchen table sporadically jotting down the first twenty memories of the past twenty years that came to mind in-between homework questions about quartic equations from my daughter. It’s been twenty years since I wrote my first journal entry and that anniversary had me thinking historically.

In 1988, disturbed that I had no meaningful memory of my grandfather or his legacy, and inspired by a college professor who raved about the benefits of journal keeping, I began penning words about my days into a Herlitz steno notebook. I wasn’t a very good writer, but staying disciplined about regular entries made me focus on finding the essence of each day. Sometimes the essence of a day was bold and obvious; other times extremely subtle. Twenty years of searching for essence has made me a more thoughtful man, and I’m quite grateful about that change in myself. Grateful for my journal, grateful for Professor Reynaldo, and grateful for recognizing a man’s legacy easily can be buried with him if he doesn’t start taking action.

It didn’t take long to compile a list of memories. Random ones popping up in no particular order and with no hind-sight reorganization. Just like the essence of each day, some were bold and some were subtle. From the excitement of having an article published in a national magazine, to stumbling upon a life-changing photography exhibit at a local library, to my car spinning out on a back country road. Memories that have greatly influenced who I am today.

Twenty years from now, changed by yet another list of memories, I hope to still be writing and paying attention to the essence of each precious day of my life.

I prefer life… in essence.

Short stories over novels,
magazines over short stories,
sidebars over magazines.

Conversations ending
before turning to the weather.

Songs with short verses,
and understated messages.

Foods of concentrated zest,
like a perfectly ripened peach.

Adventures concluding,
before becoming chores.

Punch lines,
totally unexpected.

Sportscenter,
rather than nine innings.

This journal entry ending,
prior to a sixty fourth word.

After 43 years of living, I’ve surmised that 95% of life is pretty easy. It’s how we handle the more challenging 5% that truly defines us.

Today for example, included numerous easy tasks – making toast for breakfast, passing successfully through the three speed traps on my way to work, keeping a pleasant conversation going during lunch with a business associate, filling up my car’s fuel tank, calculating the tip on my $17.58 dinner tab, staying awake until both daughters returned home from their Friday night adventures.

But today also had a few challenges…

I’m in the midst of trying to figure out how to pay the $1,000 a month tuition for my daughter's freshman year of college, and so I’ve started the re-finance process to restructure some of my debt into a more reasonable monthly payment. An offer I secured was about to expire, and it was time to either start signing papers or keep looking for other alternatives. A final decision was due regarding closing costs, interest rates, and the loan term. This morning I confronted the challenge, grabbed a pen and starting committing myself to several thousand dollars of closing costs and a thirty year repayment promise.

On my way to the office this morning, I agreed to meet with a business associate and a potential client at a 750 acre farm along the Shenandoah river. The meeting was to determine whether my company should provide insurance protection for this farm. If so, it would be one of the company’s largest but more risky accounts. Standing face-to-face with the interests of several persons and organizations at stake, the burden was solely on me to render a decision – a decision that was not what the interested parties wanted to hear. I determined that there was simply too much risk. And so I had to turn down the opportunity to secure a rather large account.

A man’s legacy is not defined by how he makes toast or fills his tank. It’s defined by how he handles the portion of life that involves signing agreements or making difficult face-to-face decisions.

And as I crawl into bed after my daughters have returned safely, I have no regrets about how I handled this day’s few challenges.

I first met Karl years ago after joining a local photography club. Nearly old enough to be my grandfather, he took me under his wing and soon became one of those handful of people who’s character rubs off and influences your own. A creative and thoughtful man, we saw eye-to-eye on many issues, both locally and worldly.

It's been a few years since we'd had any meaningful chats so I arranged a Friday morning coffee date with my old friend this morning. Once we got past family, health, and photo club small talk, we moved on to deeper societal issues.

Karl and I both generally view the evolution of society a bit pessimistically right now. He agrees with me that humans have now mastered survival but do not know what direction to head next. We’re wallowing aimlessly in a gluttony of success and frivolity.

He and I also agree with the basic principles extolled by Bertrand Russell and Christopher Hitchens that religion – especially Christianity – has overextended its stay and is no longer useful. It was valuable in establishing the moral compass for early humans, but now anchors our society keeping it from moving forward and is abused regularly and used presumptuously by politicians and others of influence.

Karl, like me, attends the local catholic church but only in support of his wife – a devout worshiper. It’s important to her, so as her husband, Karl’s there simply to support her. We both admittedly glean some useable moral messages from the sermons, but the chantings and thoughtlessly recited creeds which neither of us partake in, cause us to cringe at the gullibility of our pew-mates.

In Karl, I’ve found a man whose views of the most meaningful of societal issues match well with mine… and a fellow agnostic Sunday morning compatriot.

A red hawk soars by breaking my skyward trance. In the grandest terms possible, I imagine my now broken line of sight a laser beam bearing straight out into space, past the hawk and clouds beyond. Past planes descending upon Dulles International Airport. Through the brilliant blue atmosphere, into the vast cosmos, traveling four years at the speed of light to even the first possible next star. Then onward past distances unfathomable to human comprehension.

Every now and then it’s important to have the minutia of our lives put into perspective; vast cosmic perspective.

There’s no 'one best time' in my life. I’m finding that many points are the best time of my life. I hit the ceiling often.

My experiences in Grand Canyon, the Rockies, and recently at Pingvellir have echoed this sentiment. Whether it involves places or moments, there is no one best; there simply are many that are as good as it gets. Like yesterday, on a bright, clear fall day as I enter the meandering roads of the Rockfish Valley with beautiful high peaks all around. I wonder what possibly could be a better moment than that.

Sitting in on a ledge overlooking the Grand Canyon?
Taking a deep breath at Pingvellir?
Watching as my two daughters hug?

Who’s to say that one of those moments is any better than the other? And so why even try. Just live knowing that you’re lucky enough to occasionally bump into the ceiling where nothing better is above.

As I pass an overweight lady driving an overpriced convertible sipping an oversized soda at 7:36 a.m. this morning I think to myself, the world is full of undisciplined people.

When you reach mid-life - caught between immaturity and erudite – and realize you’re not going to be that astronaut, pro athlete, or millionaire stock broker you once dreamed about, you can either allow that to become a disappointment, or use it to reveal that true satisfaction comes from contentment with the present, regardless of fame or fortune.

At 42, I’ve come to this conclusion: Blasting off atop a rocket would not have guaranteed any more contentment than what I’ve been able to find as a middle-class, insurance underwriting father of two who likes to exercise, read, write and explore a little. Living with eyes, ears, and mind wide open, attune to the moment and aware of my place in the evolution of this world provides just as many opportunities for meaningful thought as a round trip to the moon.

Monday morning. Peaceful. Driving to work lost in the lyrics of the latest ten songs I’d thieved from the internet over the weekend …

Was a cowboy I knew in South Texas,
His face was burnt deep by the Sun,
Part History, Part Sage, Part Mesquit…
- Bob McDill

He’d look off someplace in the distance,
At something only he could see…
- Bob McDill

Sometimes there's a part of me
Has to turn from here and go
- The Eagles

Two minutes after arriving at my office a nervous-talking employee begins to explain in excruciating & unnecessary detail the results of her uterian sonogram and internal vaginal exam in which a fibrous tumor was discovered and may need surgery to remove. I was so not-in-the-mood for such a personal conversation so early in the morning, and so early in the week. It took me so far from where I had been mentally just a few minutes earlier.

There was a part of me wanting to turn and go…

Bumper Sticker: "No Day But Today"

Feb 18, 2007:
In essence over the next month, I’ll write just one sentence – no more or less – to unearth the spirit of each day.

Feb 19:
I cannot recall ever feeling as bitterly cold as I did this morning after an hour of photographing the snow and ice in Clarke County.



Feb 20:
Accompanied by a string of fine XM songs, I ride to work basking in the glow of my solid defensive performance last night, which included four blocked shots, numerous rebounds, and a few steals.

Feb 21:
On a planet of billions, where millions are doing the same things as I, I resign myself to being nothing more than average with most of what I do in life.

Feb 22:
A short time after the opening bell rang, my brokerage service secured 5 shares of ACE, Ltd, becoming the first step of my foray into equity investing.

Feb 23:
NBA great Dennis Johnson’s premature death at age 52 made me realize that I am satisfied with my contributions to this world if my life came to a similar unexpected end.

Feb 24:
The findings of the 9/11 Commission implied that the US government failed to protect it’s people; however, it was the government’s well-meaning efforts of preserving our cherished freedoms that allowed the plot to unfold so easily.

Feb 25:
Regardless of your position on global warming, you must at least consider the environmental impact of these two things: exponential human population growth and a continued reliance on fossil fuels.

Feb 26:
Unsightly blemish located on the edge of my nostril made eye contact with others uncomfortable today.

Feb 27:
Fruit has been born out from a carefully worded department memo I issued, in part, to discreetly motivate one individual.

Feb 28:
Meeting the attractive chaperone with Argentinean accent and caring eyes brought some comfort to the decision made allowing my 14 year old daughter to spend 14 days in Costa Rica this summer.

Mar 1:
Felt quite dizzy as I walked into the kitchen early this morning following 10 straight minutes of staring through the dark at the stock ticker on Bloomberg TV.

Mar 2:
Applied for a job as a “volunteer photo monitor” to take pictures once a month of the progress of riparian restoration along Buffalo Marsh Run, a newly acquire property of the Nature Conservancy.

Mar 3:
Seated in the front row of a very intimate theater, actors actually bumped into me while performing “Much Ado About Nothing”.

Mar 4:
While converting a handwritten journal of quotes I started 22 years ago to computer format, it became clear that some had lost their meaning (or maybe I had changed), but others had fermented and were more meaningful than ever.



Mar 5:
Though the photo monitor position had been filled, I was offered the back-up roll, then was emailed a topographic map and aerial photos of the secret, undisclosed location of the Ogden Cave Preserve.

Mar 6:
Mr. Butler, then surprisingly Mr. Gayheart, made motion & seconded my nomination for re-election as Vice President & Underwriting Manager for another year.

Mar 7:
Strange, that a rectal exam will be today’s lasting memory.

Mar 8:
A frank discussion with my daughter about commitment unintentionally left her feeling like a failure, and me too.

Mar 9:
A frank discussion with my wife about raising our daughters, surprisingly (though not true), left us both feeling a little bit like failures.

Mar 10:
Abuzz from a Sam Smith’s ale and a few nips of Chivas Regal, I switch back and forth between two of my favorite movies in a shallow pursuit of relaxation and pleasure.

Mar 11:
Worked for 20 minutes graphing sine, cosine, and tangent curves to figure out in which quadrants they are positive only to find out that my daughter already had an acronym “CAST” to help her remember.

Mar 12:
Looking forward and behind, I count dozens of cars heading east like me on our way to offices, meetings, shops, job sites, train stations & airports in our daily attempt at earning a living, and maybe understanding just a little more about this life than we did yesterday.

Mar 13:
Despite the fact that I exercise regularly, have no extra weight to lose, and avoid many of the high risk foods, my cholesterol levels were high enough to cause mild concern to my physician.

Mar 14:
Placed a $10 wager on the Oregon Ducks making the final four of the NCAA basketball tournament, only to then be beaten by overall winner and national champion Kansas Jay Hawks.

Mar 15:
As the brilliant sunrise and honking V of geese fade into the fog enshrouding Opequon Creek, I’m inspired to turn off my radio, feeling it’s meaningless listening to yet another self-righteous prognosticator make basketball predictions.

Mar 16:
In my car at zero miles an hour for 30 minutes while the debris of two flipped vehicles and the lives of their occupants are cleaned up, I savor a soda and some peanuts content and relaxed while others around me are fidgety.

Mar 17:
Words I’m surprised I used over the past month include foray, nostril, rectal, ado, Chivas, cosine, enshrouding, & fidgety.

I often wonder if I’m providing enough guidance to my children, or to the twenty employees in my department. I’m not in their faces on a daily basis correcting them or giving specific instructions. I generally stand back, but remain watchful of the fringes of acceptable actions. If my children or employees stay within the boundaries, they are free to operate by the means most comfort to them.

So how does that put my stamp on my children or on my department? What is my true influence on two of the most important elements of my legacy?

In truth, my stamp comes from example. Though I may not be telling my children that reliability is an important attribute, they do see me leave for work each morning, regardless of the weather or if I have a headache. They see me get up from the dinner table each night and attend to the dirty dishes. They see me take out the trash, pay the bills, and bring in the mail every day. They see me always agreeing to help them whenever they need it. They see that I’m providing them with an increasingly more comfortable lifestyle with each passing year.

I show my employees professionalism and dedication everyday. They see me consistently arriving early and staying late. They see me remaining calm and rational during stressful situations. They see me chipping in, doing menial tasks when necessary. They see me greeting customers and treating them with respect. They see me giving speeches in front of large groups. Though I’m not telling them daily how to do their jobs, I’m am showing them by my own actions.

Leading by example clearly is one of the most prominent elements of my legacy.

To be a good leader or role model, you need to be motivated by the responsibility of doing things better than others.

As a manager, I need to be able to show my staff members better ways of handling task than they may be able to think up themselves. As a father, I need to show my children better ways of handling the challenges they will face as they grow up.

It was a little thing, but when I handed out my Christmas cards at work this year, I added a few things that made them a little better than most of the cards I’d been receiving. Instead of just signing my name and handing them a box of chocolates, I added a sentence or two that was very specific to the individual’s past year so the card did not come across as such a generic holiday wish. It had a personal touch. I also chose to include a gift card for a free movie, a gift which stood out in a sea of cookies, candies, and other such blood-clot inducing mouthfuls.

I received a lot of compliments for my creative movie idea, which made me feel good, and which will motivate me to do something even better and more creative next year.

We humans are in the midst of an era of exponentially advancing civil evolution. Healthcare, transportation, communication, and technology in general are progressing at a staggering rate. But I’ve noticed one other thing that’s progressing at a staggering rate: Humor

Whether it’s watching TV, reading magazines, browsing the internet, or just listening to my two daughters joke around with each other, the level of humor and insightful wittiness is so far ahead of what it was when I was a kid that it’s astonishing, especially so when it comes to sarcasm and self-deprecation.

M E C C A – An acronym to grade myself by every day…

M for Morality: Did I do the right thing?

E for Effort: Did I put forth a good effort, stay on task, and finish what I started?

C for Creativity: Did I include creativity, style, and artistry in what I did?

C for Control: Did I exercise self-control & discipline, and remain rational?

A for Appreciation: Did I appreciate and partake in the good things in my life?

Sometimes, life is so easy that it bores me. My bills are paid, my yard is mowed, nothing needs fixed, my relationships are all good, things at work are under control, I'm in good health... There's nothing to do but sit and think.

It’s dusk, and I'm leaning on the fence surrounding the local high school's football field watching intermittent private fireworks displays. My daughter and a friend are running through the sprinkler system watering the field and I think to myself that I really am different from the average person. I’m calmer, less emotional, and more contemplative than most. I don’t state the obvious; I don’t use clichés, and don’t think them either. I seem to understand what’s happening a little ahead of everyone else.

I’m not bragging or putting anyone down. I just feel that I'm different.

We need opposites...

The clean need the dirty
The neat need the sloppy
The smart need the ignorant
The fast need the slow
The introverts need the extroverts
The thoughtful need the thoughtless
The handsome need the homely

Without our opposites, we wouldn’t be who we are.

Bumper sticker:

“Here for a good time, not a long time.”

Prayer time tends to make me a little uncomfortable. And prayer time comes up frequently and presumptuously in my fragment of the world, as it did today at the funeral of a co-worker's father. Normally, I just respectfully remain silent when prayers are being verbalized. But as I stand there respectfully, it also sends me into a contemplative trance where I question Christianity and whether it’s run it’s course and is now hampering civilization.

Christianity was good for an unevolved civilization. It rooted us in moral behavior. But it also now anchors us by falsely implying that there is a better life coming. Under the false pretense that a better life awaits, we don’t give every effort to improve the present. I believe that if we all acknowledged that our time was limited and that there was no better life awaiting, we would focus more on improving the present. It would concentrate our evolutionary progress… and produce amazing results.

We humans as a species have overcome the survival phase of evolution and it seems as though we're now just wallowing aimlessly in the gluttony of our success, and are no longer guided by a clear goal. Now that we’ve survived, what should we do next?

How can one person’s actions affect the evolutionary path of civilization? By simply perfecting your fragments of the world…

Whether your fragments involve teaching, administering medicine, plumbing, parenting, preaching, mountain climbing, or delivering mail, if you strive to perfect what you do, and then most importantly, allow others to learn from your efforts, you’ve just moved civilization forward one step.

Using a starting point established by our predecessors, and then continually moving forward with improvements in our fragments of life, represents the most direct line of evolutionary progress.

Bumper sticker:

"God Bless the World. No Exceptions."

From Time magazine Aug 15, 05: “Can You Believe in God and Evolution?”

It’s natural to think that living things must be the handiwork of a designer. But it was also natural to think that the sun went around the earth. Overcoming naïve impressions to figure out how things really work is one of humanities highest callings.

Our own bodies are riddled with quirks that no competent engineer would have planned but that disclose a history of trial-and-error tinkering: a retina installed backward, a seminal duct that hooks over the ureter like a garden hose snagged on a tree, goose bumps that uselessly try to warm us by fluffing up long-gone fur.

The moral design of nature is as bungled as its engineering design. What twisted sadist would have invented a parasite that blinds millions of people or a gene that covers babies with excruciating blisters. To adapt a Yiddish expression about God: If an intelligent designer lived on Earth, people would break his windows.

The theory of natural selection explains life as we find it, with all its quirks and tragedies. We can prove mathematically that it is capable of producing adaptive life forms and track it in computer simulations, lab experiments and real eco-systems. It doesn’t pretend to solve one mystery (the origin of complex life) by slipping in another (the origin of a complex designer).

Many people who accept evolution still feel that a belief in God is necessary to give meaning and to justify morality. But that is exactly backward. In practice, religion has given us stonings, inquisitions, and 9/11. Morality comes from a commitment to treat others as we wish to be treated, which follows from the realization that none of us is the sole occupant of the universe. Like physical evolution, it does not require a white-coated technician in the sky.

By Steven Pinker, Psychology professor at Harvard University

There’s a cushion in all of my relationships. I allow people to have one bad moment before I make a final judgment about them.

I’ll overlook something out of character, even if it’s spitefulness directed at me. We all have bad moments and do things we regret. And so I feel we should allow someone to make a mistake and judge them not on there one bad moment, but rather on their entire body of work.

Quietly sitting with my daughter while she eats her breakfast, I become lost in thought trying to figure out how to measure success. My primary thought involves my family. If I keep a strong relationship with my wife and raise good kids that love me and do the right things in life, then everything else pales. I’m a success. It’s that simple.

Two miles into my daily commute, I turn my mobile phone on and a wave of thoughts overcome me...

Here I am in my car - healthy, warm and dry - headed over a mountain to an office job 37 miles from home. A job that relies heavily on cutting edge electronic and financial management advances. I truly am the beneficiary of an evolutionary progression that has me living a pretty convenient lifestyle. I starting thinking about all of the major advances in human history that have led to this lifestyle:

* Discovery of Fire
* Discovery of the Wheel
* Discovery of Masonry Construction
* Domestication of Livestock/Crops
* Discovery of Iron/Metal
* Invention of the Printing Press
* Discovery of Electricity
* Invention of the Combustion Engine
* Discovery of Vaccines
* Harnessing the Ability to Fly
* Invention of an Atomic Bomb
* Invention of the Computer
* Beginning of Space Travel

Each and every one of these have created a more comfortable way of life for us all. We’re reaping the benefits of thousands and thousands of years of “testing and discovering” done by our ancestors. Each of these events also have been huge moments in our history and as they’ve occurred, accelerated the evolutionary pace. Over the past 150 years, so much has been changing. We’re in a period of exponential evolutionary growth. And so I wonder, what’s next? But it seems we won’t have to wait long to see.

Bumper sticker:

“The more you know,
the less you need”

“It’s difficult to view the world outside our human context. Staying alive and paying the bills both require our attention squarely fixed on our own business. Little encourages us to pause and look around, much less question the end goal of all our busyness. Unfortunately, we might be missing something important - to our happiness and to our survival.”

Jason Gardner
from his Introduction to "The Sacred Earth"

Rising from kneelers, a thought comes to mind: Even though I don’t believe in Heaven, I should live life in such a manner as to be the first atheist that would be welcomed there.

Most of the reading that I do is centered around nature: usually outdoor travel adventures or natural history journals. In almost all cases, these writers imbue typical conservationist ideals, implying that much of what the species of man does and has done has been completely insensitive to nature and has damaged it irreparably. And through the many years that I’ve been reading such writings, I too have generally agreed with this conservationist ideal. However, recently I’ve started questioning whether what man does truly is insensitive to nature.

And so I question: Why do so many people consider what man does to the environment to be so irresponsible? Does man have any other choice? As a species, we are not blessed with the physical features that help us survive our environment. Other animals are more adequately evolved for their environments. Bears have fur; turtles have shells; cheetahs have speed; hawks have tremendous eyesight; cats have claws and sharp teeth… What does man have? An inadequate amount of fur, no protective shell, slow speed, poor eyesight, dull, stubby fingers and flat teeth. We don’t have the physical capability to survive in our environment. What we do have however, is the mental capability.

Using our intelligence, we take what we need from our environment to help us survive. So yes, we cut down trees to build warm shelters. We mine metals and build vehicles to help us move more quickly. We manufacture curved glass to improve our eyesight. And we clear cut fields to raise domestic livestock. These are not irresponsible acts. These are necessary and even natural acts, much like a beaver damming a creek, or a prairie dogs burrowing it’s home into the plains. Yet, when we come across a beaver’s lodge or a prairie dog’s home, we view them as nature’s beauty. Why then are our own homes, our roads, our manufacturing plants not also viewed as nature’s beauty?

I can accept that there are plenty of things man does that clearly are considered irresponsible. But there also needs to be an understanding that so much of what we do to the environment is in fact, necessary to our survival and should not be viewed so as irresponsible by the conservationist zealots.

I still consider myself a conservationist, although I’d like to think of it more as “conservation considerate". Remaining cognizant of man’s physical and evolutionary inabilities helps me maintain a balance and understanding of conservation positions.

What a person knows is either factual or visceral. Factual knowledge is defendable. Knowing that one plus one equals two can be proven. Visceral knowledge – taking a side in the Evolution versus Creation debate, for example - is harder to confirm and harder to explain.

The vat of factual knowledge contained within one’s head is proportionally equal to the effort put forth to fill it. Knowing Ted Williams lifetime batting average is nothing more than making the effort to find it and dump it into the vat. Knowing the sine of a 283 degree angle requires a bit of study but is no different from knowing Ted’s .344 lifetime batting average. Factual knowledge is just a matter of gathering.

The vat of visceral knowledge is an interpolation of the contents of the factual vat. This knowledge is not necessarily gained by effort. It simply evolves from within; creeps from the inner depths and suddenly appears. Evolution, Immortality, Cosmic Time, Religion, Species Dominance… having a solid grasps of such topics is visceral and cannot always be explained in words.

Between these two vats, there needs to exist balance and harmony. An overflowing factual vat and an empty visceral vat leaves one with all the tools but nothing to use them on – unable to see the forest for the trees.

Personally, I feel comfortable with the balance between my two vats. Does my factual vat contain all of the facts regarding complex economic formulas, electrical circuitry, or the purpose of the thyroid gland? Of course not. It does though, contain enough of the necessary facts for me to make a decent living, fix some things when they break, and do pretty well playing Trivial Pursuit.

Of more importance however, is the satisfaction I have with the content of my visceral vat. Like my factual vat, it’s not full to the brim, but what’s there affords soothing contentment.

Bumper stickers:

A. "Life's Short, Don't be a Dick."

B. "Brakes are for Pussies"

In times of silence, thoughts from deep within ooze into our consciousness more freely and completely; thoughts that come from a long evolutionary lineage; thoughts we did not know we knew.

On the way home from a night at a friends house, my eleven year old daughter tells me her friend said she does not believe in God and that humans "evolved from worms". And so I tried my best to explain the theory of evolution to her. Then, not surprisingly, she asked me if I believed in God. I had diplomatically dodged answering this question in the past but felt she was now ready for me to be straight with her. No, I do not believe in God, and I told her I that I agreed that we "evolved from worms".

She seemed to have doubts about us evolving from worms (or from apes as I explained it), but she also admitted she had lots of doubts about the stories from the bible. I told her that one of the more important issues that she and all humans have to ponder is our origin and what happens to us when we die.

For me, Christianity does not provide adequate answers.

I also made the point to her that not being a Christian is NOT a bad thing. I am not a Christian but I am not a bad person: I don't kill or steal or commit other crimes; I basically help out others and care about my world. Being morally sound in your actions is the right thing to do, whether you're Christian, Buddhist, Evolutionist, or anything else.

My final advice to her was to continue to be a good person while she tries to find a satisfactory guiding principle to the questions of our origin and what happens after death.

I was in the gymnasium shooting hoops while my daughter was in her CCD class down the hall. I had the gym to myself and I was working out pretty hard. As I was retrieving one of my errant shots, I turned and noticed a man standing in the doorway looking like he had something to say to me. After grabbing the ball and letting the echoes fade from the empty gym, I discovered he was just inquiring whether I'd mind if he joined me.

I was really enjoying the solitude of the gym - and I needed the practice that I knew I could only get by being alone - but what could I say other than 'sure'. And so, Joe joined me. He admitted to being rusty, having not played in a long time, and it showed: he was missing everything - rim and all. Nonetheless, he appeared to be pleasant enough.

After a few moments of shooting around the talking began... and got very heavy, very quickly. No more than a few moments later, I had already learned that his past involved more than his share of drugs, adulterous affairs, and even some jail time. But now, supposedly much wiser, and with a second chance at parenting, he was much more grounded and dedicated to raising his child the right way and with a strong dose of catholic doctrine.

When he found out that one of my daughters attended the Academy, he really began to press me with questions. And when I defined my 'religious' beliefs to be best described as 'Buddhist', he turned up the heat and hit me with the following questions:


Q. Do you believe in God?
A. No.

Q. Do you believe in any type of spirit?
A. No.

Q. Do you believe in reincarnation?
A. No.

Q. Why don't you support organized religion?
A. Too much dogma; not enough personal freedom and interpretation.


Q. Do you support abortion?
A. No.

Q. Would you allow your child to become a nun?
A. Yes.

Q. Do your children know you're not Christian?
A. Not yet, but they will be told when they are old enough to understand an alternate philosophy.

Q. What do you think happens when you die?
A. Your allotted time as a contemplative human is up and you simply become part of the earth again.

Joe's response to my last answer was "you mean, that whole 'Circle of Life' thing". "Yeah, that's it", I said. He also commented that many of my positions were not necessarily aligning in any stereotypical fashion. For instance, my stand on abortion surprised him, considering that I was so anti-Catholic.

He referred to my positions as being a "cafeteria style; selecting what's right for me". Of course they are I thought. And shouldn't everyone have the right to choose what's right for them and not be told what they believe?

The degree of respect and understanding he had for my answers surprised me... and made me feel good. Other than spouting unabashed into my journal, many of my ideals are kept private. There have been so few opportunities in my life so far to discuss with another human the things that Joe & I did. Even though I was more frank with him than any other stranger I had ever met, I walked away from the conversation feeling very good about myself and my openness.

Whenever anything is done en masse, originality is immediately lost. With Christmas, gifts are exchanged in such a high concentration that the creativeness of the act is lost. Gifts are best given in surprise. At Christmas, there really are no surprises.

With Christianity, the congregation chants doctrines outlining the beliefs of the group as a whole. No original thought is involved. Moments of meaningful philosophical discovery come at random for me; they come in original form. There are no flashes like this when I'm in a church.

Much of what I do is driven by a desire for originality. As a photographer, I rarely shoot shots I've seen before. As a father, I always try to find the unique way of teaching my children. When I speak or write, I try to avoid clichés. In my office, I'm always considering new, more effective, and more original ways of keeping up with my work. As a runner, I prefer varied routes. As a driver, given a choice I choose unexplored roads. Things of originality hold much more interest to me. Some people are very comforted by routine and sameness, and I am to a degree. But there is a powerful element within me that desires originality. Christmas and Christianity lack originality and that is why I find them disinteresting.

I'm restless. And when I think about why, it's because of one thing: choices.

I often feel unstable; in search of something more meaningful. These feelings are fostered by the fact that modern man is exposed to so very much that his choices seem limitless. There's always something else out there that just might be more interesting or meaningful.

As an example, I feel a bit unstable about my photography. Because of all of the information I have available to me, I am aware of other options: medium format, large format, digital, infrared films, different lenses & filters. Options that are very tempting. And other locations are tempting too. Oh how I'm tempted to take a trip to the American Southwest and shoot something other than Appalachian options.

Knowing that there are options, I have a tendency to become unsatisfied with what I do. I hesitate to take my craft all the way, reserving some energies for groping over these other options.

Choices are all around us in this new era.