No Other Life Project
We learned last time that if we take it that humans are here to tend the earth and keep their society moving, than we individually are here to reduce friction and improve communication with each other. The most hands-on way is of course to be a direct vehicle in the reduction of that friction, but it’s pretty great anytime we work to avoid causing friction or bungling communication when a clearer choice was available.
Although it sounds pretty manageable to say “Society can live on indefinitely if we just talk to each other with more intent”, one can still ask what the catch is and where we are expected to begin. So, for those of us who really need this whole meaning of life thing handed to them on a plate, step one is to know yourself. You can think you know everything about another person, nation, or culture, but if you don’t understand your own, if you aren’t honest with yourself about yourself, then you’ll simply never get it.
Think back to one of the first episodes of this season when we spoke about your elevator pitch, and how you would expand it to a 10 minute introduction about yourself. Ten minutes is a long time to speak and you likely created quite a list. I mentioned “buckets” at that time and you may have started to categorize your bullets into “physical”, “social”, “family”, “financial”, “education”, “hobbies”, etc. The number of buckets and the naming don’t entirely matter. It is more important that you see which of your named buckets you lean too heavily on. If your physical bucket seems to be overflowing, you might consider whether you focus too much on your illnesses, battles, hospital visits, and expect those around you to be as engaged as you are (they’re not). Contrarily speaking, there may no bucket about hobbies for you, because you have none, maybe you have no time because you are hyper-focused on your career. This may be fine for you, but as you begin to interact with the world, you may find you are less effective because you are unable to swing from topic to topic when conversations change in a group setting. You just hope it will come back around to your glory days in high school, for instance.
In this poignant episode titled “Green Light,” the host delves into the intricate process of creative expression, drawing parallels between the desire to share one’s innermost thoughts and the struggle to overcome self-imposed barriers. Reflecting on his own journey as a composer, he shares candid insights into the moments of uncertainty and hesitation that often accompany artistic pursuits. Through anecdotes from his time navigating the challenges of the pandemic, he illustrates the power of creativity as a means of connection and resilience in times of isolation.
With heartfelt sincerity, the host recounts his passion for music and his aspirations to make a meaningful contribution to the world of composition. Despite facing internal resistance and doubts about his abilities, he recalls pivotal moments where he found inspiration and courage to take the next step in his creative journey. From experimenting with remote collaborations to revisiting his love for New Age music and film soundtracks, he describes the diverse influences that have shaped his musical identity.
As the narrative unfolds, the host shares the pivotal moment when he made the decision to release his first piece of music, marking a significant turning point in his artistic evolution. Through introspective reflection, he acknowledges the transformative impact of embracing vulnerability and allowing himself to be guided by the “green light” of creative permission. With each candid revelation, he invites listeners to join him on a journey of self-discovery and artistic exploration, emphasizing the importance of authenticity and intentionality in the creative process.
In conclusion, the episode serves as a poignant reminder of the transformative power of creativity and the profound impact of embracing vulnerability in the pursuit of artistic expression. Through personal anecdotes and heartfelt reflections, the host offers a glimpse into the intricacies of his creative journey, inspiring listeners to overcome their own fears and doubts and to embrace the “green light” of possibility and growth.
Halfway through now so let’s bring out the power questions: Why are you here? Why are we here? And if there’s time in this episode, “What is the meaning of life?
I’ve thought long and hard on these questions over the years and this is one instance where the distant one is easiest to answer and leads us, also unusually, to the question about ourselves.
First, let’s think of the Greek proverb that says “A society grows great when old men plant trees in whose shade they shall never sit.” The ergo’s (keeping Greek here) are we need to keep the planet alive and we need to care about what it will be like even after we’re gone (the pack-in/pack-out state park philosophy). Notice it says nothing about caring for family members or who will actually sit in that shade. That all seems irrelevant to the point that we should leave things in better condition than we found them. That geezer wished there had been a shade tree for his bald head so he thought it would be nice to prepare one for someone not even born yet. There’s a folk song whose lyrics also expound, urging us to leave a bucket of water full at the top of the well so that the mechanism is able to be restarted later.
Now, just think of all the trees we’ve planted since ancient Greece. Motivations may vary but we have been successful so far at ensuring that there is an inhabitable earth waiting for those who will live on after we are gone.
And all those generations have worked on one project continually since then; that of removing friction to reduce distance. First it was proximal distance: how can we reduce the distance village home to home. Turns out there was another option, to reduce the temporal distance by allowing us to get there quicker through improved transportation. And then, we invented a proxy which became acceptable. With telegraph, telephone, email, texting, and videochat, we have created a throughline of improved communication that has eliminated friction altogether by letting us accept the visage of one we hold dear in favor of the delays of travel.
That is the goal of our society: to make continual improvements in communication. Then what is our purpose as individuals? If we’re not improving those modes of communication directly then we need to look closer to home at our nearby relationships and try to improve them. Should that feel too daunting, the very least we can do is reduce friction of interacting with others.
How is that achieved? Simply by being open, real, authentic, truthful, accurate, honest. The list goes on but here’s a hint, they’re all synonyms.
So we have to love one another but because we need to walk before we can run, we’ve got to deal with the plank in our own eye. We must learn about ourselves. That is the germinal stimulus that will keep society moving and better all the time.
Moments of youthful innocence often offer profound insights into the nature of authenticity and honesty. As we journey through the ups and downs of life, we find ourselves navigating a complex web of social expectations and self-imposed masks, concealing our true thoughts and emotions behind a facade of conformity. Yet, there still exist beautiful moments of unfiltered honesty and openness inherent in the innocence of youth if we only seek them out.
In the track “Björnunge” from my album Naki’s Woods, we are transported into a world of boundless curiosity and unbridled enthusiasm—a world inhabited by playful baby bears exploring the wonders of their surroundings with unassuming wonder. As we observe these young cubs frolicking amidst the towering trees of the forest, we are reminded of the purity of their intentions—their unabashed embrace of life’s simple pleasures without the burden of societal expectations weighing them down.
For the young bear, every experience is a new adventure—an opportunity to learn, grow, and discover the world around her without inhibition or restraint. Whether climbing a log, chasing a fleeting butterfly, or simply basking in the warmth of the sun, each moment is infused with a sense of unbridled joy—a reminder of the inherent beauty of living in the present moment.
From an early age, we are taught to conform to societal norms—to wear masks that shield us from the prying eyes of judgment and criticism. Yet, in doing so, we sacrifice the authenticity and honesty that define our true essence.
As we journey through life, it is easy to lose sight of our authentic selves—to succumb to the pressures of conformity and societal expectations. Yet, in embracing the lessons of youthful folly, we are reminded of the transformative power of honesty and openness—the ability to strip away the layers of pretense and reveal our true selves to the world.
We closed last week thinking about the ways in which our DPN tree of possibility can remind us of the sheer number of coincidences and unplanned events which make up a large part of our life’s path. If you could predict it all, what fun would it be, anyway? Is there something to be learned when we just admitted that our past is passed and our future is unknown? Absolutely, there is. If we focus on the present moment, I won’t say that we will gradually train ourselves to recognize a fluke that may result in a bonanza ten years from now, but it will help you to recognize the beauty in the small moments. We often think, parents, especially, that the long life we live is all about our trips and good fortune but do you really remember a fraction of the 18 birthday gifts you received before high school graduation? If you received more than one per year the sample size increases but I still would presume the total you remember would be identical, and nearly zero. But you surely remember what your grandmother’s kitchen smelled like or the way you were taught to bait a fishing hook. It really is the smallest things.
While on the topic of youth and of raising the next generations, I’d like to diverge a bit here. I am not a parent, and don’t pretend to be one or understand the joys and hardships that all happen when I leave the home of a niece and nephew, or goddaughter and return the next time. But I am observant and for some reason, little kids can always tell that I’m not going to put up a fight so I’m the visitor who gets punched in the gut, hair messed up, and teased. I love all that, by the way. I’d like to think that when it matters I make a pretty good role model.
So, when I suggest that we focus on today and search our trees of possibility for those individuals who mentored us along the way, I do know what I’m talking about. Some were teachers and parental figures who had to look after you. But others were just an older coworker or a more experienced peer student in your new school that first day you thought you’d die without your old town’s classmates.
Those last few had no idea that they were helping you and may not have considered themselves paragons of virtue and good behavior, but they were. And so are you. Next time you’re out, take a look at the younger people, or those who have something to learn from someone like you. Some years from now you may be gone but they’ll still be writing your names in their No Other Life workbook. Think of the influence you have.
It’s generally easy to find those who are younger than you, perhaps it’s their height, bushier, darker hair or the trendy clothes that you don’t even understand how to put on. It’s the others that are harder to find. The next time you ride the bus, there may be a seatmate who is desperately starting out on the same career path that you did two decades ago, or who wishes just once someone would provide neutral advice on some topic on their mind. The question is not whether you’re ready to answer. Through this series, we’re preparing ourselves for that. Next week, we’ll consider why it is that we would even want to help that stranger.
We closed last time talking about the wisdom to know the difference between those things we can and can’t change. It seems valuable to do a deeper dive here because this is one of the most obvious things that feels impossible to accept.
Firstly, I think it is important for us to realize the difficulties presented by the word “change”. Season 1 was all about change, transitions of time, transitions of focus. But, in last week’s usage, we spoke instead of “change” in terms of making alterations to something that is already a certain way. As far as external things go, they may seem synonymous, but do you see the slight difference when we say (as a noun) that we are going through change versus saying that we have to change something about ourselves (as a verb). In my mind, the verb is fraught in multiple ways. To change something about yourself suggests an error, or a desire to move from bad to good. This sets us up for failure because any day that we good to bed the same way we woke up implies a lack of initiation, which may be wildly untrue when you think about how much time it can take to work through some of the major hurdles of life. Similarly, saying that we hope to change something about someone else suggests a level or control or dominion which we were never granted and which we shouldn’t strive for.
We can’t change anyone else, we can only influence them through our own actions and behaviors. We’ll dig deeper into that at the conclusion of this season.
So, when it comes to considering those things that we cannot change (past tense) and those we can influence (future tense) in seeking to get to the wisdom to know the difference, it may be helpful to try to ask why one thing would be easier or harder to influence.
I think it can be summarized through the lens of “distance”. In terms of proximal distance, we have very little agency at all to make a significant difference in the outcome of something that is far away. The other end of that plank is our inner self, the self closest to us in feet, and you know how hard that is even!
Temporally speaking, you can’t change the past, and the further off in the future something is, the harder it is to make an influence. Ergo, you will have the easiest chance to influence something happening right now.
Emotionally speaking, the term distant refers to someone who has closed themselves while the opposite is an intimate person, who offers information about themselves freely and yearns for the same in those whom they hold dear.
You could run these thought processes likewise for cultural, intellectual, social, technological, generational, perceptual distances. And if my logic is sound, in all cases, they reveal that your greatest impact is seen by focusing on yourself, in order to get “there” for those around us.
That serenity prayer has been around for a century now, and I would propose an update, or at least a shift of emphasis. In the past hundred years, even in our lifetime we have seen developments previously unheard of to each of the three bullets in its wording. Science has led us to far fewer things that cannot be changed, leaving us thinking at times that everything is malleable to some degree. It seems to me that what we need now is wisdom to know what to change.
We’re seeing a significant divide now. When “mankind” makes Neil Armstrong’s “giant leap”, many “men” are left behind, unable, or unresourced to take even that “one small step”. We are not blind to the possibilities available and we watch a small number of us making significant changes to all versions of “self”. Those of us with more significant resources have a much greater range of things that “can be changed” and I’m afraid that sometimes we lose ourselves in that wisdom that is called for. I’m not judging, just observing.
Perhaps what we need instead is to think as a society and not a collection of disconnected people. In so many ways, the moral of No Other Life is that we make greater connection with others when we’re true to ourselves. Our differences are reduced when we, the leaders among us most of all, begin to accept our shortcomings, learn from them, and share our stories.
A prominent figure was approached in a crowd, and a father brought forward a young boy who was struggling with the same affliction as the man. He took several minutes out of his day to encourage that boy and relate to him how far he will go in his own life if he owns it and requires the same of those around him. That moment will be a node on that boy’s tree of possibility for the rest of his life. What if the man had tried instead to hide that part of himself throughout his very public career, or worse yet, mocked the boy.
But there are many other aspects of “self” that we may not immediately recognize as falling under the canopy of those things that we can change. All circumstances will vary, naturally, but you can quickly see how daunting it all can feel.
If you think back to one of your DPN projects and the Tree of Possibility, which illustrated all the potential outcomes that could have played out following your germinal stimulus. Some of those nodes are huge: “Graduated”. But others are so small it’s a wonder they ever made it here: “Bump into a stranger at coffee shop, begin to talk.”
If you were to try to forecast a DPN as it might happen chronologically, you’d likely think of those big ones but likely would never dream about the coffee shop bump, the lost wallet, or the faulty amplifier that caused the concert to end early and for you to leave the arena when it was still daylight and then meeting someone on a walk afterward. Your stories are all different but they are all made up of some number of these major-minor-occurrences.
The journey through life often presents unexpected twists and turns, challenging us to confront complacency and embrace the beauty of each moment. In a heartfelt reflection captured in a recent dialogue, the speaker delves into the nuances of complacency, drawing upon personal experiences and poignant insights to illuminate its profound impact on our lives.
At the heart of the discussion lies a poignant piece titled “Drift,” nestled within the evocative notes of an album titled “Blue Wing.” Through the lens of this composition, the speaker invites listeners to contemplate the subtle yet powerful manifestations of complacency within relationships and life’s broader tapestry. It’s a narrative woven with introspection, resonating with anyone who has ever felt the subtle pull of inertia in their own journey.
With candor and vulnerability, the speaker shares reflections on navigating complacency amidst the backdrop of a Parkinson’s diagnosis. Through this lens, complacency emerges as not merely a state of mind but a formidable adversary, one that requires constant vigilance and adaptation. In this dance with uncertainty, the speaker unveils a profound truth: that true resilience lies in embracing each moment with awareness and gratitude.
The discourse takes an intimate turn as the speaker recounts a personal brush with adversity, navigating the labyrinthine challenges of COVID-19 alongside a beloved partner. It’s a testament to the transformative power of hardship, illuminating the fragility of life and the resilience of the human spirit. Through adversity, they discover a renewed appreciation for the simple joys of togetherness, a poignant reminder of life’s fleeting beauty.
In the eloquent prose of the speaker, there emerges a clarion call to embrace life with intentionality and presence. Each word resonates with a sense of urgency, urging listeners to seize the day and savor the sensory experiences that enrich their lives. It’s a poignant reminder that life’s greatest treasures often lie in the moments we take for granted, waiting to be discovered amidst the tapestry of everyday existence.
As the dialogue draws to a close, the speaker leaves us with a timeless invitation: to participate fully in the grand improvisation of life. It’s a call to action, a gentle reminder that each of us possesses the power to shape our own narrative and share our unique gifts with the world. In the symphony of existence, may we all heed the wisdom of the speaker and embrace the grandeur of life’s unfolding journey.
Last time we talked about the jagged nature of a DPN in real-time and tried to make ourselves feel better by thinking of the fact that only one path could have gotten you where you are today. To further illustrate that point, imagine this jagged line with two fingers holding the germ and two holding the incumbent reference point. If you could pull it out you would end up with a perfectly straight line, complete with nodal dots at all the important markers on that lineage. In fact, if you remove all the words and the legend, your timeline would be exactly like that of anyone else in the world.
How is your relationship to the past? You may think that you don’t think about it much, but I bet you have some degree of comfort or discomfort with time that is distant from you, whether ahead of you or behind.
I’ve spoken many times about various spectra which can be visualized as a plank atop a fulcrum of some kind. You stand astride the plank with a foot on either side and attempt to maintain balance in the middle. In this case, we might picture the future under our right foot and the past under our left. But this time, the plank is actually a full sheet of plywood, the fulcrum is a large ball, and you are in the middle, trying wildly to balance your traditional x-axis, between past and future, while also adjusting to the fact that in the y-axis you now have the added trouble of a new continuum! When you dip into the past, you continually rock between feelings of nostalgia and whimsy at the front, and guilt, grief, and remorse at the back. On the future side you’ve got to organize your balance between hopeful anticipation at the front and anxiety, terror, and dread at the back. It’s a wonder any of us stay neutral in the present day.
As you can envision with this illustration, once you roll too far to the back, and obsess over the darker days of the past, you are highly likely to see the future in a hopeless state as well. This image of a cyclical continuum may feel helpful when thinking of how to channel fear into excitement or embarrassment into performance.
As we learned last season, and have known our whole lives, there is nothing in the past that you can change. Even returning a DPN to refocus on the original goal will still not erase the changes that occurred in the meantime. And there’s really nothing wrong with that if we just realize.
For some, it may prove helpful to consider the Serenity Prayer of Reinhold Niebuhr which recognizes, in a way, our longing to discern the things that are set-in-stone and the ones we can still influence (whether current, past, or future).
As I navigate life with Parkinson’s disease, one of the most startling experiences I encounter regularly is the sensation that wakes me from sleep. It’s difficult to put into words, but it feels like a faint electric shock in my sternum, almost like an internal alarm clock. Some refer to it as an internal tremor, and while it’s unsettling at first, I’ve come to recognize it as a signal to start my day.
As I composed a particular piece of music, I unintentionally captured the essence of my daily routine with Parkinson’s. The music reflects the journey from the initial tremor to the gradual easing of symptoms as medication takes effect. It’s a reminder of the importance of routine in managing the condition and reclaiming a sense of normalcy.
In the piece, the repetitive theme at the beginning mirrors the monotony and rigidity I often feel upon waking, before medication kicks in. But as the music progresses, there’s a noticeable shift—a sense of grace and fluidity that comes with the medication’s effects. It’s almost like a dance, a deliberate and intentional movement to navigate through the challenges of Parkinson’s.
This notion of movement and intentionality is central to my approach to living with Parkinson’s. I’ve learned that embracing the condition, rather than fighting against it, can lead to a better experience. It’s akin to the principles of Eurythmics, where every movement becomes a part of a larger dance, a ritual of motion that encompasses the entire body.
My daily routine revolves around managing symptoms and maximizing my well-being. From timing medication doses to incorporating exercise and cognitive activities, every aspect of my day is carefully planned to optimize my quality of life. It’s a balancing act that requires diligence and commitment, but it’s essential for maintaining my independence and vitality.
However, despite my best efforts, there are moments of vulnerability and fatigue, especially as the day wears on. It’s during these times that I lean on the support of my loved ones, particularly my wife, who bears witness to both the triumphs and struggles of living with Parkinson’s.
Ultimately, my journey with Parkinson’s has taught me the importance of self-care and resilience. Each day presents new challenges, but by embracing routine and finding strength in community, I’m able to navigate through life with purpose and dignity.