What do we value?

Traveling for work, stepping from plane to shuttle to rental life and back I feel like an interloper from another world.

Excess surrounds me. Have a lot of money? Indulge in novelty like matching accessories or unnecessary doodads that I'm sure will look stunning in a landfill someday.

The buzz of conversation, boasts of spending money on frivolous things while whining about inability to pay one's own rent, and let's politely ignore that person layered up in stained shame outside sets me on edge.

What do we value? Cheap, novel goods overpriced and advertised in ways to feed our already oversized egos? Is this really who we've become? Toddlers with expense accounts in adult bodies?

Do we value each other or do we look at each other as steps to stand on and grind down with sharp judgements?

If we valued ourselves then we wouldn't choose to buy into a shallow, narcistic, self absorbed culture. Wouldn't we care more about appearances beyond the layers of makeup and tedious pop songs about getting screwed up and fucked?

It is hard to listen to boasts of waste, couched in immature terms when I see the faces of those living in another America. The voices of those who stand at the edge holding onto what others consider outdated moral codes are loud but to the multitude they are static, to some politicians they are silent. They are helping, feeding, caring. They are Americans I am honored to be proud of.  Roll down your window, you'll hear them. I share a post on homelessness and two people acknowledge it, I see posts on time wasting, ego feeding garbage and it's been shared thousands of times. Those two people, they're giants of amazing beauty in my world. Those people trying to support those without, those humans- they are incredible. You should aspire to be one or if you are one, you know how much I appreciate you. Thank you.

I'm tired. Language is gagging me. You're beautiful. No, let's be honest. You look like you. Sometimes you look great, sometimes you don't. You're amazing. Let's be honest. Amazing is climbing Everest. I'm not even amazing. I'm tenacious, stubborn, blunt, aggressive and outgoing. I'm as gregarious as a summer day with the potential of storms or beauty or both. I'm unique. You're unique. Just like everyone else and there's millions of us. We've got to get over our need to be the special snowflake. Reality is there are millions and in the end they all melt away leaving a brief memory if that. It's harsh. It's true and it's past time we face it.

What do we value? Do we really value each other? Are we really caring or only when it's easy or there's publicity? Are we truly parasites feeding off each other, choosing to inflate prices and profits to become rich? Why do we put the rich on pedestals when many got there by stepping on and ruining others as well as traumatically wounding our environment?

We claim to love puppies and kitties but we don't get our fixed and thousands are inhumanly killed at shelters every day. Out of sight, out of our mind, and someone else's problem because "OMG did you see the new ******"  A friend died this year because of a treatable infection. I had months of dialogue, trying to connect him with help. Him falling through holes. Him in pain. Him alone. In pain. Posting from another friend that he was dying, dying, gone. It's unreal. Talk about something you don't need but dropped hundreds on. I see his dead face. You should too. Remember being human and caring for each other first?

What kind of world are we shaping?

I live in two world. I step out of an airplane among Elloi then walk back around the corner among the morlocks. My face doesn't change. I'm in the same skin. Both acknowledge me as if I were kin.

A shuttle driver warned me last night I was staying in a dangerous hotel. I thanked him and told him good. When someone needs help, I'll be in the right place. He actually paused at the next intersection and looked at me. He said I was right and more people should. I told him, it's a choice I make to be human not ruled by money or appearances. It's about doing what's right and taking it with you where you go. It's not always easy and it's not glamorous. It is the American I choose to be.

So I'll ask again, what do you value? If you stepped outside yourself and heard yourself would you be proud or embarrassed? Why are we so bent on being shallow? 

Beauty isn't the packaging, it's what is inside and how we choose to live.

Next time you get a chance step into another world, a world that exists in this one. One that's real and ugly. One that reminds you you are normal, average, one of millions. Unremarkable and soon forgotten. Now go forward. Become something more through your actions not your purchases or peacocking.

Life is a River

Currents bring us together and pull at us trying to move us along to an unknown ocean. We find ourselves marveling at brief moments of connection and inspiration, wading through the tedium of traffic and glamorless to do lists.

Last week held a visit to the Chicago Botanical gardens, seeing the corpse flower preparing for ten years to bloom. The flower will reek of rotting meat and last less than a day. I went to meditate at King Sauna in Chicago, only to find it a sad, small version of the Dallas one. I went into different rooms to clear my mind, but there was a constant loud urban buzz of conversation even in the midnight hour that penetrated the tranquil mineral lined walls of the sauna rooms. Several local ladies mentioned the noise, warning me with their frustrated conversation. They noted they prefer to go to the Russian Banya in town, the Red Door.

In my mind, I was ready to step into peaceful meditation. To become a puddle of thought, intention and release. To take the time to think on all of my friends, to picture each and send them positive thoughts and love. I was mentally prepared for Dallas King Sauna, with its quiet and serene atmosphere. I wasn't ready for the irritating buzz that made my mind feel like I was standing on a mild electrical current like some strange sad bug.

I left.

I may try Red Door I may let it pass.

We went out in the canoe on Bush Lake in Minnesota, playing with the theory of using wind power by holding an umbrella but that did not quite work as an effective sail.

This week I'm watching time slide through my fingers quicker than my grasp. Next week will be here faster than a nice, long hot shower. Time and its variable pace seem determined to watch me dance, amused at my two left feet. Many companies profit off our desperate battle to conserve time, knowing we will pick a known mediocre over a potential excellent exerpience because we've got an idea of what to expect.

Today, I voted with my wallet. I went to a local shop and had the best sub sandwich I've had in years. I read reviews of area eateries in Antioch, Wisconsin. Sadly, Taco Bell had one of the highest reviews. Restaurant owners, cooks have you forgotten that the consumer wants food you prepare not food you slop out of a can? We can all open cans and make push button microwave meals. Serve real food! Seeing some of the local options with canned cheese food product poured in a pudding textured clump on my baked potato has become the best appetite killer I've found. I miss Tres Banderas, cooking the sauces from scratch, chopping the vegetables fresh, and making healthy food.

What we buy and what we share is what there becomes more of. No excuses, let's try to choose wisely. Let's pick our vitamins based on their absorption rather than price, marketing slogan or company name. Let's consider that choosing wisely conserves more quality time for the future.

Life is a River. If you pour garbage in, you get garbage. Your river may pollute others or end up in a nasty muck pool where it stagnated until the sun dries it up. How you choose to live effects more than you. If you tend the waters, the environment around you, your river is lovely and healthy. Your river could become an ocean.

This week I'm moving fast but I will still take time for the sunsets. I will still vote with my dollar. I will eat wisely. How about you?

Where would you go? Chicago

Earlier this week I found myself paying what seemed like endless tolls to enter Chicago. Several contracts made a journey into downtown necessary.

I thought about the city. I grew up in the middle of nowhere. I'm exaggerating, that was a couple miles down the road. I always have to brace myself for a trip into the heart of a large metropolis. The cities are everything I find repugnant wrapped around hidden gems of culture, art, and humanity. I consider a trip into the city like wading into a sewer to see priceless artworks, constantly being pushed by a faceless mob of moving people as dehumanizing as the scent of sewage and asphalt makes breathing require effort. It was easier to breathe at fourteen thousand feet in Colorado.

What would I see, where would I go to make it worthwhile? What jewel could lure me and raise my spirits?

Long ago I read a fictional book about the 1893 World Fair held in Jackson Park. Great minds, incredible people all came together there for an event that drew over twenty seven million people from all corners of the globe. I found my purpose. Most traces of the event have been reclaimed by time, but a few hints are there. I wanted to walk where Buffalo Bill performed, where inventors pitched ideas that are now well recognized products we use every day.

I worked my way south. I found Lincoln Park first, only familiar with it because of a band who took it's name as their own. Ironically, the park is nothing like the alternative metal band. Lincoln Park had a diverse farmers market closing as I arrived. I snagged a reasonably priced raspberry smoothie and wandered the nature boardwalk. There is a free Zoo in the park and I enjoyed seeing the animals in large, well designed areas set up to meet their needs. I wondered if the animals think they are at a place where they observe odd human behavior every day. One of the seals cruised by me on his back, but he didn't give me any answer when I asked.

I had seen a Conservatory as I had driven along the park, looking for parking. I thought it charged admission, but was willing to pay for the visit. I was delighted to walk in and find it was as free as the boardwalk and zoo. I petted the leaves of a coffee plant, smiled at the face of a bat flower and admired gorgeous orchids I'd never even dreamed could exist.

Between appointments I went to Millennium Park. I walked across the winding ribbon of the BP Bridge wishing the company would be as considerate of the environment as they are of city pedestrians. I marveled at the new climbing walls and children's play areas. I caught a picture of myself in the mirror egg, wondering why everyone else stood with their backs to the mirrored surface while they mugged for selfies.

Work pulled my from the lovely parks, I walked the sidewalks with many people who all carefully did not look at each other. Somehow it seemed like they each walked alone in separate empty streets even though they walked shoulder to shoulder. I smiled, made eye contact and said hello to the brave and gregarious. I passed dejected folks in stained clothing with cardboard signs, drummers snapping out rhythms on snare drums and an incredible jazz band lost in a song at a congested intersection. I caught waves of asphalt and sewage city stink.

I found myself back in the throngs working my way to my car so I could go to the place I sought the most. Jackson Park. Parking at Millennium park and Lincoln Park was expensive, it ran about twenty dollars.

Jackson Park was different. Parking was three dollars and fifty cents for a couple of hours instead of twenty three. I walked around the whole park. Most people looked at me, I like to think it was because of my hat. There was a golf course, basketball courts, soccer fields, and the Osaka gardens I'd come to explore. I stood at the base of the approximately twenty foot tall statue that was gifted to Chicago, after the sixty foot tall original Statue of the Republic was destroyed in a fire. I sat underneath trees and enjoyed visualizing how different it was in 1893. No smartphone, no cars, most clothing handmade or natural fiber, electricity was still pretty new. No fast food or gas stations. Are you starting to picture it too? Gas lights on the corners and horses pulling carriages down streets.

I found a stone honoring Fredrick Douglass as he'd dedicated the first gazebo in the park. It wasn't large, I almost missed it. The park is being renovated to bring back native plants and animals so the gardens were closed. I walked the Bobolink trail, watching a comorant spread and stretch its wings before diving into the water.

I walked around the Science museum and met several friendly locals, who politely discussed the beauty of the day and the history of the park. The botanical gardens were recommended. Yvonne and I talked for almost an hour at my car. Jackson park might have historical significance, but it's low income area. My skin color stood out when I'd first walk up, but my smile and excited nerd babble found a warm welcome and my color quickly faded from thought.

Chicago, Jackson Park is your history, it is the spirit of your city. Take as good care of it as you do Lincoln Park. Do you know, the folks I met, who go to Jackson park often were unaware of it's history. They found it delightful that someone would come to the city just to see their park, they enjoyed learning about the park. It was a wonderful experience.

I have several more ventures into the city ahead of me. The botanical gardens and King Sauna are my motivations.

Where would you go? My journey was directed by history, literature, innovation, and music. Lincoln park, Millennium Park and Jackson Park.

A Chance Of Sun

Fifty years ago, the world was different. Technology was not so advanced. We live in a temperature controlled world where the only exposure to weather might be the race to and from a vehicle, and for the few agonizing moments until the vehicle blasts us with our desired warming or cooling air.
We have water proof boots, waterproof coats, cloaks, pants and shirts. We have washers and dryers that can take a soaked item of clothing and dry it in less than an hour.
No longer are we pawns being shuffled around on a chessboard between weather and time. Somehow, we forget that. We do not prepare for weather or like small children with terrified eyes we race for shelter rather than embracing the power we have.
In this modern day, it is possible to prepare and enjoy events in an outdoor venue without getting sick, without risking our lives like we might have centuries ago. I marvel when I am walking in the lanes at a festival storytelling, when I feel a single drop of rain land like a gentle butterfly on my arm only to look up and see a large throng of people politely walk racing to their cars. One drop. I struggle against my imagination which considers that perhaps these rushing folk are made of spun sugar, perhaps they all have dental appointments they forgot and now they're racing there belatedly. Perhaps it is a secret race they plotted in the morning, like musical chairs with cars played in the parking lot?
Once the throng is gone my heart leaps with delight to see the wise and brave folk who stay to play and shop. Gradually, their numbers grow as they tell their stories of personal interactions, excellent customer service, sometimes even occasions where they have gotten private shows instead of fighting for elbow room in vast crowds.
When I see a picture of rain in the forecast with a chance of rain below fifty percent I still wonder why the picture is rain. Less than even odds it will happen, yet the picture is pessimistic and nudges people in the historical direction of staying inside to avoid catching a cold.

Haven't we learned to dress for the weather? Haven't we learned hand washing? Haven't we learned to eat healthy and take our vitamins?

Technology has changed, today there is a chance of Sun.

Several years ago I was storytelling on a rainy day at Minnesota Renaissance Festival. I told people all day, rainbows are magnetic. Paint rainbows on my dress and enough of them would create a strong pull. Strong enough to pull the sun out and stop the rain. Folks laughed, painted and enjoyed the stories I gave them. We did not really pay attention to the rain, everyone was dressed for it. Everyone had fun. Late in the day, a woman came back. She had a look of tragic shock on her face. A friend offered assistance, she declined. She caught my attention. She pointed at the sky. She pointed at the golden sun. "How? I mean, how could you? There's no way. I thought you were joking. I don't know how you did it." I gave her a smile.

Her world is now a different one. It is a world where the impossible can happen and sometimes does. In her world a woman genuinely calling for rainbows to be painted in the hundreds on her clothing can pull the sunlight through the clouds and nudge the rain away, at least for a while on a festival day. Perhaps more of us should believe in the chance of Sun, more of us should bravely prepare and explore the world on gray days.

Pessimism is easy, negativity is like gravity drawing water down a hillside. Optimism takes effort but should not. Curious that auto correct did not even realize it was a word, while pessimism popped right up.

I tell people every day in the streets, we often remember to say what is wrong. We rarely say the things we know are true, the things that are good. You are beautiful. The weather is perfect. Lines are short. Service was excellent. Sincerity is appreciated.

We shape the world with choices. We choose often from our mood. What mood do you carry with you? Do you carry a rainbow or a storm?

Today I carry a chance of Sun, come and add to my dress. The more rainbows there are, the more it will draw the sun. Rainbows cannot be without rain and Sun, we can work together to shift the world. We can be magnetic. 

A Study of Life as as Jigsaw Puzzle

Each weekend brings huge crowds, festive spirits and stories bubble out as I am inspired by those painting me at Bristol Renaissance Festival. It is a marvelous place, full of excitement, joy, and magic. It is an honor to be perform at such a wonderful show. If you have never been, it is excellent. It is about the same size historically as Bristol in England was back in the 1500s. It is mapped out like a real town, with streets and cross streets as well as several ponds on site. Talented musicians, skilled crafters, and gifted entertainers are everywhere you look; from wonderful braids to Birds of Prey- you can find the best at Bristol. One of my friends told me I was walking on clouds, wondering why I was so happy. I thought about it. Lively imaginations of patrons, playful hearts, and new friends to be made. Being in a place where I am appreciated and nurtured by festival and public makes a world of difference. I feel like I fill my paint bottles and slip into another world on the weekends.

Author, storytelling at a festival as "The Painted Lady" while children paint. 

On sunday night I shower off and step back into this one. Where to this week? This week I am visiting the Minneapolis area. When I arrived we immediately left to visit Minnehaha Falls and to have Red Snapper at a Mexican Restaurant on Lake St. Minnehaha Falls is a beautiful waterfall in a park in the middle of Minneapolis, with trails along the river and a restaurant serving fish and homemade ice cream. No one rushes around there, music always seems to fill the air from buskers outside the restaurant.

Minnehaha Falls after sunset. 

Looking down the trail at Danny Lord, it looks like we left Minnesota and stepped into a tropical paradise. 

Behind the Falls. 

Author at Minnehaha Falls, Minnesota

Yesterday found us napping on benches overlooking the city at Prospect park. Rumor has it that Dylan was inspired to write "All Along The Watchtower" there, but Dylan has never resolved the question by identifying his muse. Was it an inspiring place? Possibly, it was a comfortable spot to doze off in the sun.

The Witches Hat Water Tower that Might have Inspired Dylan

Heron painted near the door of the Water Tower.

Truly an inspiring view. 

Realizing we had hours until sunset, we decided to visit Fort Snelling as well. We were greeted by staff dressed as if they were back in the 1800s at the Fort. They shared history but were not historical characters. I enjoyed a music lesson on a gourd banjo and watching the black smith strike steel and flint, which is a little trickier than you'd think.

Dinner at A&Js was the best walleye in the Twin Cities, then we made our way to Lake Harriet for sunset. We listened to polkas and tangos played in the bandshell by talented local musicians as couples danced. We sat at the water's edge and watched ducks try to mooch snacks from onlookers who might give in to their cuteness. I was relieved to see that most respected the duck's normal diet and did not give treats to encourage unhealthy eating habits in wildlife. If you want to feed them, they do not naturally eat bread or sweets so please refrain from human food for wildlife. The sky went pink, reflecting on the water amidst the resting sailboats.

Sunset at Lake Harriet, Minnesota

Today brings clouds and the potential for rain, we'd had plans of going out in canoes and kayaks on Lake Calhoun. Instead we're looking at indoors options for fun. We've been doing a few mundane responsible chores in-between our adventures. Picking up medications, filling out forms, updating vehicle registration, and standing in lines.  Plotting the next few weeks in travel.

I have a list of places to go from Michigan to Ohio, St. Louis to Indianapolis. I have several places to go in Chicago. Time, cost, and travel expenses as well as scheduling need to be brought together in an effective way. I will be pulling maps and plotting routes, enjoying the adventure but missing the time with my loved ones while work carries me into the wind for another race through the states. I am looking forward to the chance of seeing and hugging friends whose voices I have not heard in months or years. I am looking forward to taking the time to stop and see some of the beautiful places, to inspire me to return for longer visits in the future. On occasions like this, I think how much I live like an old time Scout. Ahead of the group, taking care of myself and exploring to report back to everyone on the wonders and experiences I have found so that others might walk the best and brightest paths to appreciate them as well.

Safe travels to you, if you follow in my footsteps; give hugs to my friends. Share my greetings from afar and know that as I stood, walked, sat at these places I thought of the day that you might do the same in those very places where you find yourself.

Life is always a jigsaw puzzle, sometimes we think all the pieces are together only to have them spill to the floor. Sometimes pieces are lost, while new pieces from other puzzles may fit and make unpredictable changes to the whole. When I travel frequently I feel like I am holding random pieces in my hand. I think they fit, I find that reality changes their form as events unfold. In the end they may turn out to be a handful of dust or a handful of gold; a lot depends on chance. Good luck!

I Am Mercury

Sometimes you test yourself. It is exhausting, harrowing yet full of elation when you meet the challenges you face. I love travel. I look forward to the chance to experience different places. I love savoring unique foods, events, sights, and learning history. I work various gigs that challenge me as a storyteller. They are rewarding in different ways, demanding different styles, approaches and material. In my life work and play are one and the same.

These require two factors: money and time. Last Wednesday I was handed six contracts in five states to complete between Monday and Thursday this week. Travel expenses were covered. I scrambled madly online to research reasonable estimates, then after approval to go back and complete reservations.
It would have been a lot on its own. I had to plan a trip crossing through five states in four days, to prepare materials and appointments for each of the six jobs. At the same time I was finishing my packing and leaving Thursday morning to drive from Colorado to the Chicago area so I could be ready to entertain in the lanes of a major festival on the weekend.

I felt like I was staring at a cliff face. I did the same thing I've done when faced with sheer rock walls. I put on my ropes, prepped and raced into the climb, putting stress out of mind. Focus on the handholds. Focus on the ledges where I could sit and look out above clouds, above the dark brown feathers of hawks. Look down with caution. Shout for help and try all advice when the rock crumbles in your hand, leaving you dangling despite careful planning.

The trip from Colorado was long, I went past Council Bluffs wishing I had time to stop and visit. Many enticing sites went by as I rolled like a mercury marble through Nebraska and Iowa. The rows of corn were golden in the sunset. I could have driven the same mile a hundred times and not realized it. The corn seemed endless. Wisconsin's variety of trees and scenery were a reprieve from the continous corn.
The festival was wonderful, complex and full of sights, sounds, and enticing scents.  I met hundreds of people, told hundreds of stories, painting bloomed on my painted dress as children painted with laughter and smiles. My focus was the moment. One moment leads to another. You cannot truly live if your mind in constantly running on yesterday's treadmill or obsessing on tomorrow's trepidations. This moment, right now is where you are. When you choose to be here, the rest follows naturally.

Sunday night, weekend over, packing for my epic week began. It was simple. I do not need much. Sadhu went to a friend's for the week. It was hard to leave my traveling companions: Danny and Gracie goose went to Minnesota when I came to Chicago. Here I was saying goodbye to my constant companion, already missing his squeaky purr and gentle wrestling as I went back to my room to sleep for two hours before leaving for the airport.

Two hours sleep and I headed into Chicago. Chicago still slept as I went through security. My flights went without any issues. The clouds looked beautiful as we flew above them.

I lost a major handhold when I reached the rental car area. I do not believe in credit cards. I use PayPal. I use a PayPal debit card. I called Budget rental last Wednesday after seeing on their website they accept debit cards. The person I spoke with told me my PayPal debit card would be accepted without issues as long as I had a round trip flight. I made my reservation and received confirmation. Monday midday I stood at their desktop in the Charleston airport facing an older woman who had a look of contrived apathy as she declined my PayPal card. She smiled and told me she and the others accept Google Wallet cards and debit cards attached to bank accounts- just not PayPal. When I asked to speak to a manager I was given a pamphlet with an 800 number then ignored. When I called the number it was quickly apparent the person at the other end was paid to regurgitate a specific speech. She did so with detachment. I've heard electronic voices with more empathy. She didn't even acknowledge I was human. I was the automated part of the system. I could have said there was an orgy in the parking lot. She still would have said "we waived the cancellation fee and cancelled your reservation. Have a nice day." As if this was great news that somehow getting that ten dollars back would make up for my plans dangling in space.
I tried some of the others. They were polite but no help. Credit only. Sorry.
I typed a plea for aid and friends across the country threw a flurry of suggestions. As I tried them I gave feedback. All excellent suggestions. I let my employer know my status. He started thinking options too, Enterprise came up repeatedly.
Enterprise said they had no problem with my PayPal card but they were out of cars until sometime hours later in the day. They were real, they had empathy. They apologized. I was shocked, I said "you have nothing to apologize for. I will wait as long as I need to I am just grateful that you are here, willing to help." We said goodbye, I focused on work.

Time.
There is only so much in a day.

I had my first gig at two pm on the other side of Charleston. I put my travel issues on hold, grabbed my duffle with one hour to get to the location I stepped into a bus.
Twenty minutes to the appointment, six blocks to walk, phone dying I raced across downtown Charleston too fast to appreciate the sights. I arrived several minutes late, looking like I'd walked through the desert. I felt like I had. Sitting in air conditioning became the biggest challenge. I struggled to stay awake. Sleep was seductive. I barely won my struggle, and in part because we took time to get up and take a tour of the building.

Everything went well. I stepped back into the street. I took a moment to admire the architecture of the U.S. Customs House. I started my walk back to the visitor center. Market street was full of restaurants that sounded delectable. I passed a smiling young man weaving palm fronds into flowers for tips. His smile bolstered my flagging stamina.

I paused near carriages waiting for tourists. I called Enterprise, did a formal reservation then had help from a gregarious fellow outside a gas station. He nabbed a taxi for me as the driver stopped to buy cigarettes. I was back to the airport and effortlessly, without a hitch settled into a tiny little blue Fiat.

This strong handhold held, and I raced up the rocks again. Seven hours later I stepped into the front door of Econo Lodge in Virginia Beach. My room was ready. At two am, I soaked sore muscles and nervous energy into a hot bath. By two thirty my alarm was set and I was oblivious to the world.

Tuesday started with work schedule confirmations and a trip to the beach. I didn't have long to play, an afternoon appointment near Charlotte, North Carolina meant I had to lunge forward again. Each gig had to be allowed to progress naturally without any hint of rushing.
I chased and was chased by a crab in the waves. I watched tourists and large boats. I left for work. It wasn't long before I was in North Carolina surrounded by the sound of cicadas. Another days work done, three gigs down and I was headed to see friends I've dearly missed.
We got to visit in person, another night passed too quickly. Atlanta came up in my sights. Another snag had me readjust: instead of doing two gigs in Atlanta in one day I had to do one, then wait and do the other Thursday afternoon- putting my estimated return to the airport off. Shrinking the time I'd get to visit with my friend Mick in Columbia, South Carolina. I watched Wednesday's sunset as I crossed into Alabama.
I slept comfortably at La Quinta and did my gig there, leaving the state before noon. Atlanta with its congested traffic and obnoxious tailgating bogged me down an extra hour and a half.
My last gig was finally finished. Still paperwork to do, but it was time to make my return.

Time was my opponent, slipping away from me as I pushed forward, as if it were a stick I was trying to fish from a fast moving river without falling in.

Back at the airport, forewarned enterprise might charge for an extra day. I accepted that with gratitude earlier in the day when I called. I returned ten minutes before they closed at midnight. I returned the keys with more real appreciation and gratitude. I was not charged am extra day or fuel. I've got a favorite car rental company due to both experiences. They gave me the support I needed and thought I had put in place with Budget  before traveling.

At five am I leave here. I'm getting to know the Charleston airport construction crew. Miguel and his partner told me a good place for a safe siesta, the men and women work night shift have each chatted with me and made me feel safe and welcomed here. I've got angels in neon yellow vests and hard hats around me, I couldn't be safer.

This trip has enticed me. I want to come back to visit Roanoke Island, Myrtle Beach, wander Market street in Charleston, get a tattoo in Charleston from my friend at the award winning Animated Custom Tattoo shop on Augusta Road. I want to go to some of the area events to sample the renowned cuisine of the food trucks there, including Too Stuffed To Fly.

I loved the salad from the Deli food truck that my friend Mick's girlfriend made. It was the best food I've eaten all week! The best salad I've had in a long time!

I want to visit the site in Alabama where they honor the Tuskegee Airmen, the Laurel and Hardy Museum. I want more time to catch in person visits with family and friends. I want to go back to Ruby Falls, Fairyland Caverns, and Stone Mountain. I want to get over to Asheville.

It's always good to have gleaming thoughts of places to someday visit. It's priceless to get to hug and visit in person with people you love, especially when you thought it would be years before you got to step into their lives again.

Maybe you'll meet Headstand Dan as well as he travels doing headstands at famous places all over the world. He has visited forty states and well over 200 countries. I perused the pictures with him as we waited for today's flight out of Charleston.

Headstand Dan is out there pursuing his World Record, living and having the spark of adventure charging him with vitality and contentment. I think of his last statement: find something you can do to set a record, something unique and fun that you can capture in a picture. Wonderful and powerful wisdom in one eloquent sentence. Everyone should set such chase such interesting dreams and dream such adventurous goals.

Are you stuck?

I just made myself shudder. If you are stuck, it is inventory time. The word inventory brings to mind a large retail store with a never ending checklist and tedious cataloging. I'm not referring to that kind of inventory.

Part of the human condition seems to be struggling against our own inner demons, the parts of ourselves that critically observe and paint the details of our spirit in the harshest tones and most painful lighting. To many of us our defects and deficiencies are glaring and they overshadow our perception of ourselves. Let me frame it up for the rest of you. Pretend that three friends are standing at a lookout point, looking out across the mountains. Two friends are looking at the beautiful view, enjoying the pine scent in the air and the sweet birdsong. The third friend is stuck in the car looking for their shoes, only seeing the cluttered mess of the car, the check engine light glaring, and the stink of french fries that fell in the crack between seats. The third friend is still at a beautiful place, but can't get out of the car to appreciate it. In their mind they have to put their shoes on, then their mind gets distracted by other negatives and they spend their time trying to fix the car. Sadly, they're trying to fix the car without the right tools in the wrong place.

Golden Gate Canyon State Park, Inspiration Point View

Do you find yourself being that third friend quite often? Listening to your friends talk about all of the places they have been, the adventures they have had, while you have tried so hard to go forward while you are running in place?

Inventories are tools that you can use to monitor yourself. When you are looking to make changes, to go from the person stuck in the car to being the one out ahead of everyone on life's adventures an inventory creates a map for you. There are many types of maps. Different inventories come together to give you a complete picture. Diet, exercise, nutrition, sleep, behavior, mood can all be monitored. You learn a lot about yourself through self monitoring. You can identify things you want to change. You can see patterns emerge from food sensitivities that affect behavior to triggers of negative behaviors and thought patterns.

Instead of the pity train and the nobody loves me song; try setting goals. Stop basing your emotional state and self worth on the words of others. If you have trouble remembering your positive moments and achievements, start tracking them. Start journaling on the positives in your life. Break out of the negative cycle. I'm not saying go into happy delusional denial, we all need to tune in, speak up and become active in shaping our communities and how we interact with the world. It isn't like there is a back up world that comes out after we screw this one up for someone's 'killer' profits.

Sounds hard? Sounds tedious?

How about goal setting? What do you want to do with your life? Picture yourself at age 90. Talk to yourself, what would you tell you to go do? What experiences would you want to be able to remember?

Observation Tower View, Outside Rollinsville Colorado

Give yourself direction. Do you want to visit a desert? Do you want to pick fruit fresh from the plant? Do you want to have an apiary? What shows, concerts, and entertainment venues do you wish you could see? What places have you put off traveling to see? What foods have you never tried? In your heart, what experiences would make you smile when you wake up?

What experiences would motivate you to step beyond that messy, cramped car? What holds you back?

Danny Lord enjoys the view on Flagstaff Summit outside Boulder Colorado

When we get into a negative mindset, we become overly critical of ourselves. We punish ourselves and sometimes resent the people who do not seem to have the same struggles we do. Misery loves company, and in our minds we find ourselves wanting them to 'pay' for being free. That is backward. We should be reaching out to them saying "throw me a rope, I am stuck." We should be learning from them and appreciating them. They've won a battle that we fight and lose ground to every day. Perhaps because they never chose that fight, they never fell into the trap we are caught in.

On a cloudy sunday, I ask you to do one thing.

Do something today that brings a real smile, a true laugh, and creates a memory that you will be glad to have when you are 90.

 Set your fears, self recriminations and judgments aside; life is too short to spend it stuck in one little box. You are the only person who can make the choice to get out and live, you are the only one who determines how you see yourself, how you feel about yourself, and how you see the world. The rest of us can tell you the vistas are beautiful, that you are incredible and worth loving, but you make the choice whether to listen or tune us out.

Indian Paintbrush at Sunset