I believe in you (07/04/2026)

We are about to celebrate the 250th anniversary of this country that I adopted as my home. We should be celebrating, but why? This country is being run by a narcissistic egomaniac who waged a war and let the other side win. He is only in this game for his glory, and his handlers let him while they pull their racist and capitalistic strings. Our leader is just their puppet as long as they feed his ego and his wallet.

On July 4th we will be celebrating the USA’s independence; the signing of the Declaration of Independence from England. Three of the signers of the Declaration of Independence were Unitarian – my religion-: Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, while Benjamin Franklin had a Unitarian leaning. One of the items that upsets me currently is that Unitarian Universalism was relegated to the ranks of non-religion, and the military does not even allow chaplains from our denomination among their ranks. You can imagine how upsetting this is to me. Our daughter is a Unitarian minister, and she served as a chaplain. Moreover, I have a leadership role in our church at the moment.

All three signers of the Declaration of Independence that I mentioned above, believed in a God, but not in a trinity that most if not all Christians believe in. Over the years this has evolved and after the merger with the Universalists the church embraces all believes including pagans, atheists and humanists. One of my favorite sayings now is that we UUs believe in each other.

How celebratory am I, are you, should we be? I more or less permanently moved here in 1986, and I did not grow up with the 4th. I eventually became a citizen in 1994; studied the constitution and history for my citizen’s test. Ever since I retired as a naturalist instructor, I have been into studying Lewis and Clark, Jefferson, the abolitionist movement, women’s suffrage, and of late Lincoln. I should be celebratory with all that has been achieved in this country and in my life over the years, but I feel lukewarm. It feels like we are going back on all the progress that was made in the past. I feel saddened and concerned.

How about you? I am sure there will be people out there that are celebrating because they think things are going great. Some of you may party because you are just a party animal. Others will be like me ambivalent about the current state of affairs, or just down on it. Whatever you do this weekend, take time to reflect on where we are as a country and maybe even you personally. What do you think is the outlook for the future, again yours, your family, society, this country and the world.

Inherited Distance: When Blood Is Not Enough (05/26/2026)

Recently, I spent an afternoon with friends and learned a lot about family dynamics. She is a good friend of my wife, and her daughter has a lot of issues with her uncle. I am just amazed that there is nothing new under the sun. People fight with each other, especially with those close to you. It reminds me of a saying in my native language: “good neighbors are better than a distant relative.” We have been trying to live our life that way, especially now since we have absolutely no relationship with my siblings, sometimes to my regret, but also often to my relief.

My parents were perfect role models for family feuds; we must have learned it from them.

On my father’s side: Once my uncle Karel died of meningitis in the 1960s, we lost contact with his wife and two kids. It seems my uncle was a player (well taught by their father) and they were about to divorce. When I finally met my cousin in 1971, we were 18, she did not want to acknowledge me, she actually was angry at me at first sight. We ended up in the same classes in college, but she always stayed angry with me and once told me that her mother had told her what scum we were. I finally met her brother around 2001 but he was friendly and told me that she always had an angry outlook on life.

My uncle Willem also screwed around and divorced his wife. They had four daughters and he had a son from the affair. Once they divorced, my parents chose sides against the brother. My father and his brother finally reconciled a year or two before Willem died of cancer. My father always appeared to be sorry that the break lasted so long and that they only had two years to catch up.

On my mother's side: Things were not any better. I previously wrote about how my grandmother mistreated my grandfather and my mother. One of her brothers (Jan) died in a German concentration camp. But eventually my mother broke her relationship with her two remaining brothers. Simon fooled around, got divorced and again there was a choice against him. Eventually my mother did allow him to visit her, but this was a few years before she died at the age of 76. Her other brother Cornelius and mom had a mutual breakup and they never reconciled. The breakup was also wife related, my mom and my aunt could not get along, and the breakup occurred sometime in the 70s and they did not see each other for 30 years although they lived less than 2 miles apart.

I have often wondered why both had these issues. While it is easy to assume what brought it on, my parents did not accept unfaithfulness or divorce, I doubt whether my father was faithful. It is easy to blame my mother, she seemed always angry, had a strong character and was principled, uncompromisable, and stubborn. I should have asked them what made them like this. Now it is too late; they are gone.

In a later post I will eventually chronicle why my siblings and I all broke up. But this post is getting long. We broke up around 2005. Around that time I told my siblings that we were emulating what our parents did with our own interactions. “Fuck you” was my sister emailed me in a response. My brother wrote me: “Now you did it.” In other words, we have not spoken since 2005. Do I miss them? I think about them at times; but I feel that I tried to make amends but was pushed away. I have given up, I will no longer make an attempt on reproachment. I told my wife that I will be open and respond if or when they contact me. I will be friendly but be very cautious and probably will not allow myself to become too close.

What will I recommend you do? Try to treasure your parents, siblings and extended family as much as you can, but don’t let them abuse or bully you, your family, or the life you lead. In an article in Very Well Mind the authors write that if fighting is unavoidable, it is best to not take things personal; find support elsewhere; try not to perpetuate it; invest in your own family; and accept the reality of the situation. I think I have done all these things in my situation. But if all fails get professional help by seeing a therapist. I just hope our daughter breaks the cycle.

My sister and I.  I was probably 11 here in this photograph and she was 2 or 3.

My brother an sister.  We visited the Holland American Line's Rotterdam when it visited Curacao where we grew up.  I think they were 9 and 4 at the time. 

Uganda here we come (03/17/2026)

The couple was aimlessly wandering through the departure halls of Zanventem, the international airport of Brussels in Belgium. He was 24 and she was 22. It was February 1978 and they were filled with apprehension. They had met two years earlier and got married 7 months ago and now they were going to the man’s first full-time job as farm manager at a leprosy center in Uganda. It was 10 o’clock in the evening. They were taking a Sabena (the Belgium National Airline) flight to Nairobi, Kenya and from there to Entebbe, Uganda. Into the unknown.

At the time of their move, Uganda was ruled by the ruthless dictator Idi Amin who had given himself the title "His Excellency, President for Life, Field Marshal Al Hadji Doctor Idi Amin Dada, VC, DSO, MC, Lord of All the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Seas and Conqueror of the British Empire in Africa in General and Uganda in Particular." He was known for the deportation of all Asians in the country and a brutal murderer of anyone who opposed him. Moreover, flying to Entebbe meant they were going to the airport that was famous for the hostage crises and Israeli raid of 1976. Everybody they knew told them that they were crazy and that they were going to be in severe danger by going there. The couple kept telling themselves that leprosy would repel anyone that could threaten their lives; people were afraid of that biblical disease called leprosy, or so they thought. Now these two were not religious, they went for humanistic reasons and for adventure. Little did they know what would happen in the next year and a half.

The two had arrived in Brussels in the morning by train from Rotterdam. They deposited their luggage at the hotel from where the Sabena shuttle to the airport would leave that evening. Having time to spare, it was time to do some sightseeing: the Great Market and Manneken Pis, have a last Trappist beer and a nice dinner. After that, they sat in the hotel lobby waiting for the shuttle to the airport.

Their flight left Brussels around midnight. They were flying over the Sahara when the sun came up. It was one of the most beautiful sights they had ever witnessed in their young lives; parts of the mountains and dunes illuminated by the orange light of the rising sun, while the opposing sides of hills were still in the dark.

They never exited the plane in Nairobi, but they could feel the warm tropical air rushing into the cabin when the doors opened to let passengers off and allow new ones to come on board. Th majority of the embarking folks were Africans and so, the ethnic makeup of the passengers changed dramatically. Reality hit, they suddenly realized that they were no longer in Europe but were entering dark Africa.

The landing into Entebbe gave them some beautiful views of Lake Victoria and their first Ugandan villages down below. Once landed the plane taxied to the terminal where they were greeted by a huge banner with the face of that ruthless Ugandan dictator, Idi Amin Dada, the conqueror of the British Empire. The banner was draped from the roof of the arrival building and reached all the way to the ground. Now in 2026 the couple is being reminded of that sight by similar banners with the picture of the current U.S. president that are draped of buildings. Let’s not talk about Amin’s massive deportation drive of folks that had migrated into Uganda and did not look like him. Nothing new under the sun.

Once they cleared customs, the couple was met by Pieter, the Dutch doctor and medical superintendent of the leprosy center, and Steve, the Ugandan anesthesiologist. Later they learned that Steve was a wheeler dealer for the hospital, he knew which buttons to push, who to bribe and even had sex with him. But so did the sworn bachelor Pieter, neither gentleman had ever heard of sexual harassment and avoiding sexual relationships with underlings. But after all, this was Africa and late 1970s.

Naturally, that couple were my wife and I. As you know, my writing is a collection of autobiographical sketches, environmental essays, and political commentary. Hope you enjoyed this one and it gives you an insight into my brain and who I have become over the years. Feel free to browse the keyword list for the word Uganda; there is so much more, and more to come.

Manneken Pis

The conqueror of the British Empire

All you need is love (2/7/2026)

What a world we live in. A goon squat patrols the streets, murdering unarmed US citizens; what a dystopian world we live in. It looks like that they want to prevent folks from protesting and showing their empathy. In this country where weapons are ubiquitous, it is open season on folks like you when you show empathy for your fellow human beings. Let’s not talk about what they try to do to you if you are against what the current administration is doing and you carry a weapon. It is dangerous what is going on; it really tastes like what Hitler did in Europe. Anything to distract from the Epstein case; we don’t want to know what our current Hitler wannabe (tRump) did with underaged girls. It is very distressing to me.

Initially, I wanted to write a post that detailed the retreat that I attended last week in the mountains on the border of Idaho and Montana. We discussed the settlement of the western part of this country that the USA obtained as part of the Louisiana purchase. I left Missoula for home on a high, much like the retreat last year. We were with eighteen folks and had the best time, intellectually and just in friendship. I knew at least eight of the attendants either from last time or meetings we have on Zoom. It was so familiar and there was an atmosphere of pure love and respect for each other. I liked the discourse and the deep thinking we all did. We all respected each other even when there were disagreements. It almost felt like a meeting at the forum at our Unitarian Universalist Church. This is how our country could and should function.

While Jefferson was highly educated, well cultured, a great writer, scientist, and a wonderful tinkerer and inventor, he absolutely had some non-admirable qualities. Were these a reflection of the times he lived in? For example, in the Declaration on Independence wrote in it that “All men are created equal,” he was a slave holder and considered the Native Americans savages. I do not think tRump believes that all men (human beings) are equal; in his eyes you have the humans (rich, multi-millionaire) and the savages (middle class and poor). He called Somalis savages. I believe he considers many non-citizens barbarians. The emperor has no clothes, that’s for sure.

How the hell do we solve this problem? I have learned one thing over the years: whether you live in the USA, Singapore, Hong Kong, Brazil (the four top countries where my readers come from) or anywhere else in the world, Your Vote Matters! Secondly, I stand on the side of love. As the title says, love is all you need! What the current regime is doing is broadcasting hate. The only way we can conquer hate is with love. Yes, love includes demonstrating for what you believe: our love for our fellow human beings. All of course, by the right have cost the lives of Heather Heyer (Charlottesville), Renee Good or Alex Pretti, and of course all those people who died in the custody of those goons. It needs to stop, this is insanity. All we need is love!

Photo of the day.  It has been crazy weather here in Virginia.  Global warming is showing its cards.
These crazy love birds met each other 50 year ago this past January.  Yes, we have had fights, arguments and alike, but are still able to solve our differences.  Having gone through so much together in our past, nobody would be able to understand our psyche anyway. 

Before I die and before I’m gone (1/4/2026)

How would I look back at my life, my accomplishments, regrets, failures, things or places I never did? I already have written about an eulogy as I described in part over in this blog post. But is that all? I have written about other things that are going on or have occurred in my life; however, I somehow feel more contemplative during the days with the least daylight in the year. Christmas and the new year are ideal times to reflect. Most of my regular readers know that I am not a guy for New Years resolutions. I discussed that in my recent blog post for my church and in this regular post here.

Do I feel my mortality? Maybe a little, I am getting older and I feel like I am getting slower. My joints hurt, I get mysterious muscle pains, I am looking forward to my mid-day naps, and I have become more cerebral and reflective. I am no longer that interested in the advances in biology but I have changed interests to history. I am still interested in science and I consider myself a naturalist who enjoys being out in nature and I hope to continue chronicling my forays into and opinions of the natural environment.

The truly most enjoyable things I have done in my life involved nature; those events stayed with me over the years. I have been above 14,000 feet three times in my life and those are among my favorites. The top of Mount Elgon (14,177 feet or 4321 meters), Grays Peak (14,276 feet or 4351 meters), and the north slopes of the Annapurna (we estimated to approximately 16,000 feet or 4800 meters). Our visit to Gros Morne National Park was another highlight. Finally, our hike on the Isle of Sky ranks up there as well.

My failures and most troublesome experiences include my job and stay in Uganda. I have had a difficult time holding on to jobs over the years. I am sure it was caused by my sometimes-abrasive behavior and my cynicism and sarcasm. Early on I had a difficult time compromising; but then I hate hypocrisy and that is how I perceived the world (and sometimes I still do). During my job in Nepal, I walked into my supervisor’s office and saw him bent over a chair with his pants down getting screwed in the rear by the assistant supervisor. That surely did not help, both were male and married to women. I lost my job fairly soon after that.

Anything I still want to do, experience or place I still would like to visit? I am 72 years old. How many more years do I have in me; how much longer will I live? Five, ten, fifteen, twenty years? I better hurry up. They call the 80s the slow go years (obviously even slower than right now), and the 90s the no go years. My wife thinks we will be strong and independent for a long time; seventies is the new sixties she keeps reminding me. There are places I would like to return to: Curacao, Newfoundland, Scottland, Uganda, Nepal, Japan, just to name a few. I would love to visit New Zeeland, the Easter Island, Chili, Portugal, Spain, Italy, Finland, the Faro Islands, Iceland, Alaska. Things to do? Take a Rhine cruise, eat in some high-end luxury restaurants, visit the Albuquerque balloon festival, go to the Munich October fest, take a stroll on the beach of Ipanema (I guess that I am still a dirty old man), visit Rome and Florence. I am sure there are a lot more things, but I better keep it realistic.

These are some of my thoughts about going into the new year. Politically, socially, and environmentally, 2026 is going to be an interesting, albeit very stressful year. Put on your seatbelts.

A picture from our hike on the Isle of Sky in 2011

Reading, politics and Rome (8/12/2025)

I am currently reading three books at the same time:

• Thomas Jefferson: Writings (just 1599 pages including index or 1517 pages of actual writing).
• Anthony J.C. Wallace: Jefferson and the Indians. The tragic faith of the first Americans.
• Edward J. Watts: Mortal Republic. How Rome fell into Tyranny.

These books are connected by a common thread. First of all, it is Clay Jenkinson (from Listening to America). I am reading the first two books in preparation for a workshop that I will be going to in January, which is somewhat similar as last January’s trip that I took, but then on a different subject. The third is currently being discussed in a book club hosted by Clay. Although I do not attend the club, a friend who is, told me that this is the book that the members are reading and discussing. It sounded interesting and I decided to read it independently. As some of you know, of late, I have been reading on Roman stoicism and this felt like a logical follow up book, or so I thought.

Is there another common thread between these books? Jefferson was a student of the Roman civilization and was most likely familiar with Rome’s democratic system before the rise of the emperors. Rome was, in many ways, very democratic and treated its citizens fairly equally (except for slaves). This idea is echoed in the U.S. Constitution, where everyone is considered equal (now stop snickering). The Romans considered themselves civilized and all others were seen as savages. In Jefferson’s time, the white settlers considered themselves civilized, and my understanding is the Indian population was considered savages, while the black slaves were seen as barbarians. The prevailing belief was that savages could be educated, assimilated and civilized, but barbarians were considered a lesser class. There even was a push to relocate freed slaves to Liberia in West Africa. This worldview is troubling, especially considering how we continue to judge people by skin color or gender today. The latest examples of that are the outrage from our president (with a very small p) about folks from Afghanistan and Somalia, and by his derogatory treatment of women, calling them stupid and piggy. This clearly shows that we have not evolved much. In some way, we may be regressing into a stage similar as the one that ended in the turmoil which resulted in Rome’s decline into dictatorship.

The Romans normalized violence with their gladiator fights, desensitizing the public to brutality. Similarly, today’s regime is doing the same thing with boat strikes; the ICE-stapo that is going rampant in some town; and visits to Salvadoran concentration camps. Are these actions meant to immunize us to violence, especially with upcoming elections? It definitively feels like that. It may well be an effort to maintain power by rallying the base and encouraging others to look away. This “immunization campaign” is happening while public health efforts are being undermined and the CDC and JFK jr. are trying to curb access to vaccines. A strange and disturbing world, indeed.

I realize that I am oversimplifying these complex issues. As I am sure you know, I expect to write more about these topics in future posts, especially after my workshop in January.

A photograph from the site of last January's workshop.  I wonder how much snow there will be this time.

Veronica and the fornicating deer (11/18/2025)

On our walk this morning we saw a gorgeous (at least 8 point) buck humping a doe in the woods. This made me think about a wool hat that a friend of ours knitted for me. We always call this hat “The Fornicating Reindeer Hat”.

Ever since we met in April 1994, Veronica was special to us. She was an archaeologist at the company I joined, she was half Dutch and still had a grandmother (oma) in the Netherlands. Her father was a Mennonite from Selinsgrove, Pennsylvania, and her mother was half Indonesian and half Dutch. Her dad was ultra conservative, a chiropractor, alternative medicine doctor and anti-vaxxer. Mom was a traditional housewife and somewhat of a homesteader. Veronica had a lot of fights with her father but often showed the same conservative streaks that he had. She was an amazing fiber artist and an expert spinner, knitter and weaver. Lastly, Veronica was grossly overweight.

She left her profession and moved to Burlington, VT right after we left Cincinnati for the Hampton Roads in Virginia. We did not lose touch, especially early on. We exchanged monthly phone calls, and her job required her to travel all over the place, so she made an effort to visit frequently. Veronica became her mother away from home when our daughter moved to New England. We had fun visiting her one autumn to coincide with the famous New England leaf-peeping season.

Eventually, the phone calls became scarce and when we spoke, she seemed out of it, or even drunk. At times we spoke the day after and she did not remember that she had called us the day before. Veronica lost a couple of jobs, but it was never her fault, and we never clued in that it could be alcohol related. After a hiatus of a half year, she called us and told us that she had used her frequent flyer miles to fly to Rio de Janeiro to attend the Olympics, in particular the rugby games which she loved. Not long thereafter we got a phone call from her mom telling us that Veronica had died.

Veronica was 55 years old when she died, and we learned she had a thyroid issue but like her stubborn father refused to take the regular medicine that could keep it under control. Our daughter went to look for the obituary and googled her name. It was then that we learned that Veronica had a couple Driving Under the Influence (DUI) convictions (for drunk driving) and actually was sentenced to a half year in jail. This was during the time she was supposedly in Rio (the lies alcoholics tell). A combination of thyroid disease and alcohol abuse must have killed her. We suspected alcohol before but never figured it was that bad. We still often kick ourselves that we did not clue in and did not drive up to intervene. We miss her terribly and often talk about her, even some six or seven years after her demise.

Crazy what a couple of screwing deer brings back. While Veronica technically did not commit suicide, she did it in her own way. She hated her father and loved him at the same time. Some famous person once wrote that hate and love are the same emotion. We knew that a lot of her drinking was about her father. Every time our friend called while under the influence, she spoke about him. If you suspect that a friend is in trouble, go out and help him or her. I do not think we would ever make that error again, and neither should you.

This is the cap that Veronica knitted for me.  She told us that she would go to a bar and knit one of these in an evening and when a guy would tell her that he loved it, she would sell it to him on condition that he would pick up her tab.

Road trips of the past (11/11/2025)

I now have taken four extended road trips since we retired two and a half years ago. I made one solo trip and three with my wife and our dogs (2023, 2024 and 2025). As part of these trips, I have seen the Grand Canyon twice (the South Rim during our first visit and the North Rim, a half year before it burned down, during my solo trip). After twice visiting the town, I have learned why folks always say, “Get the hell out of Dodge.” Maybe more about these events later, However, I do not want to make this post another report of my trips. Wherever possible, I have tried to stay away from the Interstate Highway system, interact with people I met on the way (one of my favorite books is Blue Highways, by William Least Heat-Moon). Highways were some cases unavoidable, or they saved us a lot of time.

Now, this is going to be a long post.

The overarching item that I learned from our trips is that every state we passed through had absolutely beautiful areas. I am sure there are also horrible parts in each state, although we have not seen many of them. What I mention as ugly may be because of the place’s sordid history. Moreover, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. When I am writing about ugly areas, I am thinking of places like Uvalde (TX) that had a mass shooting and we visited the memorial. But I am also thinking of Selma (AL), where we stayed overnight and walked the Edmund Pettis Bridge. This small Alabama town seems to be very depressed and probably ignored town of very important historical significance. Sorry Alabama, the 16th street Baptist Church in Birmingham elicited a similar reaction in me. While nice looking, these spots were saddening because of what took place there.

What were the most memorable things we saw or experienced? This will be a list, and I will start with the most recent. The ferry between Ludington (MI) and Manitowoc (WI); the drive from Van Horn to the McDonald observatory (TX); Big Bend and Guadalupe Mountains National Parks in Texas; Death Valley (CA); the Dignity of Earth and Sky statue in Chamberlain (SD); The Grand Canyon (AZ); Theodor Rosevelt National Park (ND); Lemhi Pass (MT and ID); Sedona (AZ); Selma (AL); Uvalde (TX); Naca Valley Vinyards (Nacogdoches, TX); and Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes National Lakeshore (MI). I am sure I am forgetting one or two, but these are burned into my memory bank.

What were the most disturbing things we encountered? Driving through Georgia and South Caroline (Macon to Savana) we were amazed by the hurricane damage so far from the Gulf of Mexico and now more than three months after it happened. It remined us of our situation after hurricane Isable in 2003. Other items that bothered us included the begging coyote in Big Bend National Park, the stop at Uvalde, the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham and our visits to Selma and Freedom Trail. We both graduated from Utah State University in Logan and were sadly reminded of our lives there when we visited.

Were there things we really hated? Driving a whole day to heavy rain is no fun. It ruined our driving pleasure between coastal Texas and coastal Louisiana. That drive from Victoria (TX) to Baton Rouge (LA) was stressful and horrible, oh well. It would have been nice to see the Louisiana bayous from the road or even stop here and there, but the rain was relentless.

In the western part of Texas, we were plagued by very heavy desert winds between Fort Stockton and El Paso. It is a shame because this is one of my favorite eco-regions. I got my Ph.D. doing graduate work in the Chihuahuan desert. Writing about weather, the 105 degrees we experienced in September in North Sioux City (SD) provided little camping pleasure and we had to spend that night in a motel.

While there must be nice areas in Kansas (for example the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve), the region around Dodge City isn’t it. The area is full of feedlots and slaughterhouses. The area stinks and has more flies than you can shake a stick at. It almost made us vegetarians. We need to feed the nation and therefore need hamburger producing regions like this, but it added very little scenic or cultural value to our trips.

Which folks are staying with you in your memories? Two young waitresses are still on my mind. One in Selma (AL) and the other in Pratt (KS). Both were in their late teens or early twenties. They both seemed resigned to where they were in life, but not happy. They wanted to get out of the town they grew up in, which is understandable when you examined the towns we were in. Both appeared to be at a loss on how to get out and go to the big city and have a life. They tried to make the best of it and earn some extra cash waitressing.

At the North Rim, I was served by a set of waiters that came from Turkey. They were engineering students at the university in Istanbul and spent the summer months working in US National Parks to earn some extra money and learn about the US. I had fun talking with them.

There were these two couples in the tram going up the St. Louis Arch. They lived a couple of blocks apart (less than a mile) in Madison, WI and did not know each other. They even had friends in common but met for the first time on that tram going up the Arch.

We had a great evening talking with a younger couple while sipping wine at the Naca winery near Nacogdoches (TX). She was a teacher, and we talked about education, vacations and the world in general. She would spend the summer in an RV somewhere along the TX coast and her hubby would visit on weekends.

We met a lot of interesting camping owners or hosts. The lady in Miles City (MT) was a riot, and so was the manager of the McDonalds in that town. It must have been the water. We met a couple from Florida that managed a camping area on the Blue Ridge Parkway and the lady with a colostomy bag in the UP of Michigan. A lot of the hosts were retired and got free camping in a beautiful spot or maybe a small stipend. The lady in Lisbon (OH) either made a little money or had free camping while hubby worked at a refinery nearby. They were from Billings (MT) and she homeschooled her two kids, while they followed her husband’s job.

Talking with people was fun, and I noticed that most of them are friendly and nice, especially if you treat them the way you want to be treated. We tried to stay away from the hot button issues like politics and religion. Although, when we told them during our first cross country trip that we were either on our way or returning from our daughter who was going to be or just was ordained as a minister, everyone melted and reacted very friendly.

I wanted to make this essay a lot more detailed, but once I started listing the items I noticed that I could write a book about these experiences. I hope you like this. My message is, smile, be kind to people and start a conversation.

Driving the north shore of Lake Michigan

Ready to descend into Death Valley

Get on those barricades (8/18/2025)

As you may have seen in my previous posts, I have been writing about my life and of my immediate family. However, I am currently hitting somewhat of a wall. I guess that happens when you have been reading, listening and watching too much news and combining that with the responsibility as president for a board that is responsible for running a church. Don’t worry, I am not going religious on you. While Unitarian Universalism is definitively a religion, it should not be confused to proselytizing religions. Our motto is that we except folks from all religious and philosophical walks of life. This includes atheists and humanists. We don’t recruit much, but maybe we should; I think a lot of folks could find a spiritual home with us.

But let’s take a step back. These past few months we have been bombarded by news that the climate is worsening including the horrible floods in Texas where at least 135 people died; floods in Milwaukee, New England, New York City, etc.; a pretty strong earthquake and tsunami warnings; wild fires all over the world; and hurricane Erin that went from a category 1 (75 to 95 miles per hour wind) to a category 5 (more than 157 miles per hour or 252 km per hour) within 18 hours. We learn about a flip-flopping tRump who now supports Rusia again, or worse has given us whiplash from his tariff games. Finally, I cannot escape talks about sexual predators on television or in my own life, and no, I am absolutely not one of them, nor have I ever been abused. I have simply not been able to find any good news these past few months. So, why the hell write about my youth and my family; I should be on the barricades.

The Buddhists tell me to live in the moment and enjoy the shitshow. Stoics tell me that even living in the moment will not do it, since this last word I typed in already in the past. They tell me to concentrate on things that I (think) have control over. Talking about barricades, I have participated in a few demonstrations, but is that control? Maybe I have taken control of some of my frustrations by these actions. It definitively feels good to be among peers, people who think the same. However, it sure does not look like I am changing anyone’s mind.

Looking at the blogs that I wrote over the past 12 or so years, I have been warning you about climate change, political extremeness, war, gun violence, the environment, stormwater, soils, life on or near the water, and I occasionally write about life and bonsai. I am hoping that that the occasional post may affect some of you in a positive way; although I have no illusions that I can change the world this way. I confess, I am not doing a damn thing about it except write about it. Yes, I pick up the dog poop when we walk our animals; I recycle (not the poop); we have not used fertilizers or pesticides in our home in years (except my bonsai); we have little to no lawn to speak of; we drive a hybrid; and we vote. Remember, your vote matters!

What message am I trying to convey in this post, what charge am I giving you? I don’t know, maybe this is just a bitch session, a bitch post. Maybe I am trying to get myself motivated to do more; to write more; to bitch more, in the hope to change maybe one mind a year; to get you all motivated to work harder to change this world for the better, for your children and grandchildren. Our descendants deserve a livable world when we are no longer here. Fuck the fake republican fear of budget deficits, environmental deficits make the world unlivable whether we have a balanced budget or not. Let’s get on those barricades together and change the world.

Stolen from the movie Les Misérables

Chaos anyone? or the three C-s of this administration. (6/20/2025)

Recently, I read somewhere about the 3C-s of the Republican Administration. It seems that the tRump Whitehouse thrives on:

• Chaos
• Cruelty, and
• Corruption

I would like to add three more C-s:

• Carelessness
• Criminality
• Confusion

Although it seems that chaos and carelessness may be related as are corruption and criminality, but then, the Supreme Court kind of ruled that the president is above it all.

When all fails, the administration can always resort to name calling and accuse others of conduct that they are actually doing. One of the latest was tRump calling Bruce Springsteen and wrinkled old prune and then to think the plump old prune in the Whitehouse is older than Bruce. Moreover, he has a much lower cognitive ability, cannot remember things and has a reduced language ability. But it seems that there is never a dull moment in American politics these days. I am just amazed that every Republican in Congress just rolls over and plays dead; I cannot imagine that they do not see it. Real character is missing or are they afraid of losing their cushy, high paying job?

I have been reading a book on the old Greek and in particular Roman stoic philosophers (A Guide to the Good Life by William B. Irvine). While reading this, I have concluded that tRump and a lot of the folks associated with his regime are simply very unhappy, un-balanced people. Truth be told, if you are happy in your skin and with your life, you do not crave approvement, constant acknowledgement, stroking, bribes, more wealth, more possessions, more power; you do not need to gaslight everybody. I can go on. When you are happy with the situation you are in, you are at peace with yourself, calm, tranquil and you work for the betterment of society, not your financial, social or political standing. Even the portraits he put up of himself show that he is brooding, angry and suspicious. His incessant use of social media illustrates his need for validation and his need for power. He cannot rest on his laurels. He is not tranquil, and I wonder what he is running from or to.

In the past, I mentioned that in order to break him we need to ignore him for a week or maybe even a day or two <here>. Do not mention him in the news, give him complete radio silence. Lack of attention: may be dangerous; he is likely to start a nuclear war just to get in the news; however, it may also give him such a fit that he may perish in loneliness, or lack of attention. For one, he should know that we will all perish one day as was detailed by the senator from Iowa (Jodi Ernst). In full disclosure, I have only watched the (inter)national news probably 3 or 4 times since his election, but I do watch local news and read two national newspapers in which he features prominently. In other words, I have yet to ignore him myself. But then the world seems to go to hell in a hurry; in LA, the Middle East and who knows where else.

Back to the newscasts. I started writing this post at the time of the big divorce between the two buddies tRump and mUsk. Crazy, and as I mentioned, there is something new every day. How should I feel now that the guys that I hate the most have a fall out? I’m not sure, but I definitely do not want vAnce. Maybe it is better that they kiss and make up. And the invasion of LA by his troops. This country is really between a rock and a hard place, isn’t it? That serenity prayer that I wrote about sounds so good (and stoic).

I spend a lot of time in the garden and with my bonsai.  That is the only way I can achieve some sanity and tranquility.

Exhausted and exasperated (5/22/2025)

I feel empty and exhausted. Crazy, considering I sleep well, exercise (walk and bike), have hobbies (I work on at least three or four of my bonsai trees almost daily), do a lot of reading lately, you name it. I have my fair share of friends (or should I call them acquaintances). In other words, I have a full life as a retired dude. Am I depressed? Am I getting old and this is part of slowing down? My diet? I do not know.

Maybe I need more adventures. A few weeks ago, we had a great visit to James River State Park, and that was a welcome diversion. Then we experienced the election of a new pope. He is 69 years old and three years younger than I am. Leo (his newly chosen name) is embarking on a completely new adventure. I guess that in July I will embark on a new adventure as a grandfather and as chairperson (president) of our Unitarian Universalist church board. I have already been made aware of all the potential difficulties I might be getting involved with at church. Grandfathering will hopefully be easier.

I guess it is the incessant news about tRump and his antics that exhausts me the most. There seems to be something else every day ranging from “screw the poor and help the rich" to lining his own pocket with a donated airplane.

One of the books that I am currently reading (I am reading four at the same time) deals with the old Greek and Roman stoic philosophy. Very much like Buddhism, it tells me not to worry about the past (it is over), not about the future (not much we can do about, it is coming whether you like it or not), and don't worry about what is happening right now (it will be a thing of the past in an eye-blink). Remember the idea about never crossing the same creek twice? It is different every time, different water molecules. What is left? Enjoy the moment. The Buddhist say, “live in the moment.” I wish I was able to take that attitude, but it is difficult in today’s sociopolitical climate.

This is probably why it feels so good to have new and different adventures to look forward to. While apprehensive, I am excited about what’s to come. I am thinking about flying west to visit my new (first) grandson. In addition, I have been planning a trip circumnavigating Lake Michigan. We have never visited Wisconsin, and I would love to visit Holland, Michigan. We’ll see if it comes to fruition.

I think it is very important to have new adventures in life and not to stagnate. In many of my posts I write about never stopping to learn (one example is here and here). But I get 543 posts when I enter the word learn in my blog search bar. I think it crucial to keep learning and develop your critical thinking skills.

I read somewhere that the reason why time seems to go faster when you grow older is that you do not experience anything new that needs to be processed by the brain. Young folks, on the other hand, need to process all the new experiences and therefore the time seems to go much slower. What am I trying to explain here? New experiences at an older age slow down the perceptual time. In other words, I am looking forward to all these new adventures (new experiences) and growing old slower.

So many folks in this and a lot of other countries have given up on experiencing new things, on learning. They act like sheep, being herded by a dog or even a shepherd (read authoritarian leasers like tRump). It appears that they have lost their ability to think on their own, although they still think that they are thinking on their own. They are just following what the demagogues, the gas lighters or dictators tell them.

I don’t care if you are liberal, conservative, have a different sexual orientation, black, white or purple, we all need to keep learning, experience new things, think and question what we read, see or hear on the television or get from social media. Reading, learning and bonsai is how I am trying to fight my exhaustion.

One of my trees that I have been working on (a water birch)

Serenity please (5/8/2025)

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

I have a friend whose adult son is addicted to fentanyl. He has been kicked out from rehab clinics for the stupidest things such as giving (selling?) cigarettes at the clinic he was in for rehab (yes, he was stupid). His son now lives out of his car in Richmond; he refuses help from his father and is still using drugs whenever he can. My friend was told that he is essentially helpless and just must wait till his son either dies or genuinely asks his father for help and to put him in rehab again. In the meantime, my friend’s counselor told him to pray. The problem is that he does not believe in a god, and we had a long discussion on prayer. We concluded that the best would be to recite the serenity prayer that I started out with in this post.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

My wife and I are extremely upset by what the current occupier of the White House is doing. So much so that when we watch some of the comics making fun of tRump or mUsk and accomplices, she gets even more upset. We refuse to watch the national news shows any longer, although we do read the New York Times and the Washington Past. She is getting more and more distressed. I told her to recite the serenity prayer:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

I have adopted a more Buddhist attitude: you cannot do anything about the past (or dwell on it), you cannot impact or be worried about the future (or get upset about it). However, best is to try to live in the present and enjoy the shit show!

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Maybe a strange way of living; and yes, I get pissed about what these people and the republican house and senate are doing. The only thing that I can do about it is to contact my elected officials, to demonstrate, and to advertise my displeasure in my writings, postings and interaction with people.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

As I promised in my latest post, I will continue writing and let you know where my heart is and what’s going on in my mind and heart. We are living in difficult times; USAID, the EPA, NOAA, Social Security, health and money items more are being assailed by these nuts, they want the clearcut and mine our national parks and monuments. They are going after art and education, planning to turn museums into prisons. This all feels very much like what happened in the 1920s and 30s in Germany; and we know what that led to. They built their first concentration camp in Poland, the republicans built one in El Salvador. Nicely out of the way of the public in both cases (the 30s and now). So don’t get me wrong, I am angry and upset; however, I keep reminding myself to “enjoy the shit show.”

One more time: 

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Last week we spent some time at James River State Park near Gladstone, VA.  It was so nice to be off the grid and enjoy the night sky in this dark sky park,

April 2025 Update (4/16/2025)

I have been laying low, lately. This is partially because of the current political climate. I don’t want to have a knee jerk reaction to all the things I read in the news and then need to retract it, as seems to be the rule in the current administration in the Whitehouse. In addition, there has been a lot of things going on in my life. To start with, I was asked to teach a course for an outfit in Northern Virginia, like I have done in the past. This required a lot of extra time developing a course. While that was taking up a lot of my time, I got the request whether I was willing to serve as president of the “Board of Stewards” of our Unitarian Church. After some deliberation I agreed to step forward and volunteer for that position. Leading a church is a huge job and I have been slowly preparing for it. The job will start on July 1. However, I am already being sucked into it and I am reading Roberts Rule of Order. Lastly, I am going back to the Lochsa lodge (ID) and Clay Jenkinson this coming winter to talk about “Thomas Jefferson and the West.” This requires me to read all kinds of non-fiction works on and by Jefferson, although interesting, it is not something I have done a lot in the past and it is therefore not completely in my wheelhouse. I just enjoy the American west and even written a published essay about the relationship between the east coast and the “wild west.” This and the presidency will require a steep learning curve.

Let me assure you that I do not plan on quitting writing. Things may slow down in the next few months, I really do not know. Am I afraid of commenting on the political climate in these posts? Hell no, I do a lot of editorializing on Facebook, Threads, and my Bluesky accounts, and I am not afraid of being targeted by anyone. I am sure they have much larger fish to fry. Although I might have wanted to be an influencer and monetize on my ramblings, I realize now that my readership is very limited (last month I had 6897 hits and this month only 131), and I don’t reach a lot of folks. Moreover, I have given up on the idea of getting rich from my writings.

So why am I doing this? The Unitarian Universalist Kurt Vonnegut (one of my favorites) supposedly said/wrote this:

“Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what's inside you, to make your soul grow.”

That sums it up for me. This blog is somewhat of a diary and a way to blow off steam, to vent my anger and anxieties. Being a consummate teacher, I also try to educate you. It will hopefully make my soul grow, keep me young and hopefully, and if you are able to read this far into this post, maybe you are too and hopefully you will learn a little from my ramblings. I am not going to change the world, we need to do this together, and soon it will be up to you.

Participating in support of the democracy in our country

Honor your ancestors (Story of my life 4) (3/7/2025)

I have been watching a documentary on YouTube called Kintsugi (The Ancient Japanese Practice that Will Heal You). While a lot of people that know me closely might say that this is wasted time for me; I am so screwed up and cannot be healed. As part of the healing process, the 4-part series taught me about the importance of honoring the people who came before me: my ancestors. I feel that the least thing I can do is write about them, which is as close as I can get to visiting their past lives and thus honoring them. I don't know where they are buried; moreover, that is a continent, and an ocean removed from where I now live. 

I come from a long line of builders. My father started out as an engineer and road builder. After the Second World War he briefly worked for his father who owned a construction company. He married my mother in August 1948 and sometime after that they departed to Kinshasa in what was then the Belgium Congo, where he had taken a job in the road construction business. Back then it was called Léopoldville. He did not last long and after two years or so took a job as a director of the furniture manufacturing company in Albertville (now known as Kalemi) in the eastern part of the Congo. This is the place where I was born. We moved to Antwerp in Belgium when I was 2 years old. In Antwerp, dad was working on the restorations of the “Grote Kerk,” the main church in downtown Antwerp. We moved to the Caribbean in 1956 and lived 13 years in Curacao and a half year or so in Aruba. Dad started out in the road building industry, became a director of a construction company, and an architect. He continued managing the restoration of some of the old buildings along the harbor of Willemstad, the capital of Curacao. After moving back to the Netherlands, my father worked in the construction management field and traveled all over the world. He spent time in Germany, Turkey, Congo, Cameroon, Saudi Arabia, Oman, and Indonesia before he finally retired. 

Uncle Willem (Wim), dad's brother owned a construction company, and when we moved back to the town of Capelle and den IJssel in 1996 he had developed and built almost ¾ of that town. As I mentioned before my opa (grandfather) owned a construction company, as well. However, my uncle Wim built his company on his own, from scratch. My great-grandfather (my grandfather’s father) was also into construction. He was a very skilled carpenter and his claim to fame was that he supposedly built the Bijenkorf (a large department store) in the center of The Hague (Den Haag). This must have been in the early 1900. The odd duck out was Karel, my father’s oldest brother. He ended up owning an optical store. Anyway, from the two brothers down to my great-grandfather they were all very skilled and talented carpenters. Even Herke, Karel's son, was a very accomplished woodworker. 

I do not know much about my mother's side. Her father was not into building. Opa van den Ende was a butcher and owned a butcher shop in Terbregge a small suburb of Rotterdam. Mom (or Ma as we called her) had three brothers, one (Jan) died in a German concentration camp, and another (Cor) was an accountant. I do not know what the third brother (Siem) did. The only thing that is somewhat related to building is my mom's second nephew Ben. Ben was the owner of a kitchen installation and renovation company. 

Naturally, one cannot help comparing all these folks that went ahead of me with my skills and abilities. However, together, my wife and I have renovated three bathrooms, including two in our current home. In Yemen I built my own house and a plant nursery and office; I also built a wooden play structure for our daughter, in Gallup, NM. In our current home my wife and I tiled a huge portion of our home (kitchen, breakfast room and library/stove room), we built two sheds from scratch and a woodshed. I also built a large built-in bookcase in our home. Finally, during the past 15 years I taught environmental compliance to folks in the construction industry. In other words, I dare say that I somewhat continued the family tradition in the building industry (sorry Opa van den Ende). 

It is fun to see where your forefathers come from and how you fit in the continuing story of a family, of your life. And yes, I do believe there are healing properties in writing and paying respect to your forefathers. I am really not writing this as a self-gratification exercise, but also for my daughter, my future grandson, nieces and nephews. I believe that family history is important and honoring them by documenting their existence in this manner will hopefully make them live forever. We have such powerful tools to do this by being able to blog on the internet, unlike our forefathers who did not have these tools and depended on passing stories down orally. The internet can be a very useful tool when it is used in such a way, as opposed to constantly maligning one another, as is seen in the case of the social media where it is often done now, in our polarized world.

This is the only thing I have from my great-grandfather.  It is a fishing basket he made.  It is supposed to be suspended in the water to hold the fish you caught, and shaped in such a way that you can easily carry it laying on your side while hanging from a strap 

Transform yourself ... Stories of our life 2 (2/11/2025)

I am reading a book by Neil King, Jr. entitled “American Ramble" and was struck by a passage in the chapter on his visit to Amish country. It was a quote from the Bible: St. Paul's letter in Romans. It goes: “Be not conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” A little later in the book the author provides his own interpretation or translation: “Do not let the world form you. Do not conform to it. Instead, transform yourself through a renewing of your mind.” A very interesting thing to think about in todays world, indeed.

I also ran into a quote by Erasmus the other day. This quote takes me to the political situation we are finding ourselves in as a country. The Dutch humanist, philosopher, priest Erasmus’ words still ting true when he warned us in the late 1400s and early 1500 about today's politics when he wrote: “The less talent they have, the more pride, vanity and arrogance they have. All these fools, however, find other fools who applaud them.” These two quotes (Erasmus’ and King’s) intersect each other in an interesting way.

Fools in this sense does not infer that these folks are poor, destitute, have a low IQ, or not successful; just plain dumb. Bringing it back to King, these fools have been formed by a demagog called tRump. However, I am not sure who is the largest fool tRump or mUsk, who is following who in that case, and who else conforming to them and applauding them? They do not want to renew their mind but be back in the 1920s and 30s, or even earlier (McKinley?) and make this country backwards and racist again.

I want to leave it there and go on with some of the stories of my life and go back to Mr. Kings interpretation of St. Paul's words. “Do not let the world form you. Do not conform to it.” This was somewhat of the motto that I live by from my mid to late teens (late 1960s) and probably all the way until 2010. I mentioned in my previous post that I was moved to The Netherlands in August 1969 from the island of Curacao. I use the term “was moved" because it had nothing to do with my free will. As a 16-year-old you are not supposed to have free will but do what your parents think is best for you or the entire family. This move set me off on a more nihilistic path. I came from an exotic island that a lot of my new fellow students never heard of, let alone had never been too. The attention allowed me to become somewhat of a class clown, rebellious, different with an attitude of I don't give a damn.

The second part of King's translation: “Instead, transform yourself through a renewing of your mind” is also part of my life. I have always wanted to learn, but usually on my terms and not the way you are supposed to in today’s society. I took double the number of required courses in grad school and a lot of them were outside my major of study. We still have a library of a wide variety of books, some of which we are currently trying to get rid of; we are getting older and do not want to saddle our daughter up with having to dispose of them.

As I reported in an earlier post, this year I went to a retreat to discuss Walden and Desert Solitaire. Honestly, I felt like I was infected by a case of “Imposter Syndrome.” Me a scientist/educator/ecologist studying and discussing literature and philosophy? But I was renewing my mind, broadening my experience; and I had fun, learned a lot and was inspired; so much so that I am going back next year.

This brings me back to where I started with this write-up. I will continue visiting my stories as discussed in my previous post. In addition, I will keep pointing out what my perception is of what is going on in these politically and socially difficult times.

Out with the old.  These mushrooms are digesting an old stimp to make place for a new tree.

Some nice forest bathing this morning.  I just sat on a stump for 15 minutes and mediated in the woods.

The Stories of our Life (1/30/2025)

The folks at my church (the Unitarian Fellowship of the Peninsula) have established what are called “Fellowship Circles.” These spiritual circles are approximately eight persons strong, meet twice a month for approximately an hour and a half and discuss a specific topic. The topic this week was “The Stories of my Life.” We were asked to discuss three questions (in a round).

The questions were:
1. Tell us a story from your life that tells us something about where you came from.
2. Tell us a story from your life that tells us something about what you are.
3. Tell us a story from your life that tells us something about where you are going.

If you read my blog regularly, my possible answer to the second question should be familiar to you; this is what this blog mostly is about. I could have given four stories that address question 1. One of the stories is about the kid that was killed for stealing a pig. This happened in Uganda (1978) and the event is still haunting me. The other stories include one on how my career started; secondly about the first kiss my wife and I exchanged in 1976 while skating on the ice between Gouda and Rotterdam; and lastly the labor riots in Curacao 1969 and what this eventually led to.

Let’s start at the beginning: Curacao. I was 15, when on May 30, we were on lunch break at our high school. We were standing just outside the gate of our school, having just returned from buying some snacks at the Portuguese shop (toko, or convenience store) across the street when a huge crowed of angry protestors marched by the school on their way downtown. I was personally blown away from seeing all these angry faces walking by and so many! The school closed down and I think it was my father who picked me up. We lived on top of a hill fairly far removed from downtown (20 or so miles) but that afternoon we watched dark billowing clouds of smoke rising from the town (Willemstad). It later appeared that downtown was partially destroyed and put ablaze by the rioters. I read reports that eventually 432 rioters were arrested. Based on those numbers you can imagine how many rioters I saw that faithful morning passing by our school. The islands went into martial law for a week, and I remember 1) family friends coming over to stay with us, to be far enough from the epicenter of the riots, 2) with my father franticly driving around the island trying to find an arms dealer or some place where he could buy a weapon to defend the family, and 3) being safely at home with my scared parents and their friends. The name of the leader of the rioters was called Pappa Godett. You can just imagine what the white minority on the island was joking about or hoping for.

A little background, we had lived in the Congo and although we had not gone (suffered) through the independence war in that country (read Atwood’s “Poisonwood Bible” or Naipaul’s “A Bend in the River”). Many of my parents’ old friends (yes, white colonialists) had and had shared the horror stories with them. These riots scared my parents shitless, enough that they started panicking. Eventually things settled down, but my parents had enough; they decided to move back to the Netherlands. They stuck me on a plane in early August to start my 3rd grade (9th for those readers in the US) in high school (the move put me back one grade). I was sent to live with my aunt and her four daughters (two more or less my age) for the first few months and was reunited with my family in December of that year.

You can imagine how this shaped me. I had just discovered girls, already fallen in love at least twice and now had a steady girlfriend. These riots pulled me away from it all, my beloved island, its culture, my friends and my girlfriend. It changed my life forever, setting a course for who I am now, not better or worse. It just made me who I am today.

Stay tuned, I will write more about the next two stories that shaped me. Who knows, I may even write the story of my future in one of these posts; however, I hinted at it in my previous two posts about the workshop with Clay Jenkinson. Conversely, the current political happenings make me feel that I cannot and should not keep my mouth shut; I still have so much to say. In other words, my life stories may be interspersed by some more social and political commentary.

Yorktown Battlefield, a place where at least two battles were fought and a lot of stories were told, and lives were shaped.

What a week, part 2 (1/19/2025)

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”

― Henry David Thoreau, Walden

What did I learn during the retreat? About Clay Jenkinson, members of the group or myself? I will not detail very personal information on the first two, but I guess that I am somewhat of an open book to my regular readers, and I will write a bit more about myself and the activities I participated in.

What did we do? On Sunday we started out with a gift book exchange, where you gift a favorite book to someone in the group, while introducing yourself to the group. I gave “Solace of Open Space" by Gretel Ehrlich to one of the participants and received a book on poetry from another (“The Trouble with Poetry” by Billy Collins). On Monday we started with meetings in the morning and afternoon. There was a campfire every evening and some free time, sprinkled in between. We ate our meals together. I was surprised by the copious amount of alcohol that was consumed in the evenings. Folks shared wine, single malt and there was beer as well. We had a hike to the river to discuss Lewis and Clark and another time to reenact Thoreau and throw burning sticks in the river. A trip to a hot spring was the capstone to our get together.

Clay is as intelligent as he sounds on the radio and podcasts. He runs a fairly tight ship during the meeting and is an amazing facilitator. He is clearly the best-read person I have ever encountered with a great number of interests. He is caring and is very interested in the well-being of the participants. He engages in personal dialogues with folks during the discussions and social hours. Clay was trying to be as non-political as possible, hinting at the fact that he lived in a conservative State; however, he kept mentioning a great number of times that “Your vote matters.” My guess is that all but one participant were liberal; however, all were very well off (I counted four of the nine participants in first class on out plane on the return trip from Missoula, and I was definitively not one of them). Lastly, his daughter and future son-in-law had joined us for the first few days, and you could see his pride and love for those two. Both are also very intelligent and well read.

The participants ranged from a winemaker and his wife, to a foreign service person and wife, to retired naturalists, to retired park rangers/managers, to writers. Let’s not forget the copious number of retired lawyers (3), a financial advisor and a wall street guru. An eclectic but at the same time a very intelligent group. At least two were searching for what to do with the rest of their lives. This search was brought out to the foreground during our Walden discussions. Thoreau champions simple living, with nature. As a transcendentalist, Thoreau discusses spirituality, self-determination and personal growth. Coupled with his love for nature made most of us that week could consider ourselves to be Thoreauvian in some form or fashion. Hence, the search by some of us for the deeper meaning of life and the next step in the life we are living. Clay was good I hearing them out and making them think.

I had one of the most wonderful experiences in my life, psychologically, mentally and intellectually stimulating; it was a good kick in the ass: get going, there is such a wonderful life still to live. If you are a regular reader of these posts, you must understand that I at times have struggled with the purpose of the rest of my life. I am retired and have blogged about getting old. I have mentioned that it sucks! I too am (was) trying to find purpose in (the rest of) my life. This clearly was an issue that one of the participants was struggling with and I eagerly listened in to what Clay had to tell him, without saying much myself. My understanding is that in a Thoreauvian sense, we all have a purpose in the greater whole, but sometimes we do not understand what it is. We should embrace where we are in our stage of life, suck the marrow out of the life we have been given (to loosely quote Thoreau). Yes, getting old sucks, but at least I can blog and hopefully teach something to someone. As I always thought about the classes that I taught, if one or two of the students in my class of 40 goes home thinking “I learned something” (and hopefully also thinks “and I am going to apply it") than my task for that day is done. The workshop that week somehow enforced that idea. I do not have to be an Einstein, a Thoreau, or an Abbey to have an impact on other people's lives and to make a difference how small that is.

Yes, I came out of that week refreshed and optimistic again, even though the results of the elections had left me depressed and ready to move to Mars or some other place sane. I realize that “your vote matters," and in future elections I will make mine count and make sure that you all vote as well. In addition, I will be reading more and not get sucked in so deep into the television (especially the news) and social media. I need to do more for my family and finally do more for myself. Like Clay, I will be trying to declutter my life. Wish me luck.

“We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which does not forsake us even in our soundest sleep. I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his life by a conscious endeavour. It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look, which morally we can do. To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts.”

― Henry David Thoreau, Walden

The Lochsa lodge

Ready to discuss Walden