Thinking on Oneness, and a Trip South

I skipped a dedicated walk for exercise today. Travel took up a good part of the day, and frankly, I am tired.

The day started early with fellowship with a good group of folks where the topic of discussion centered around resentments and how they work against healthy living. If I'm honest, I sometimes struggle to keep a sense of oneness at the center of my relationships with both people and institutions, so resentment may be an issue for me address. I don't perceive myself as bitter, but my suspicion is that like eating and exercise the fruits of the way I approach life is an incremental and cumulative process. I don't want to be a bitter or resentful person. I believe that capturing that sense of oneness may prove critical to that vision.

In other news, I headed back down to the land of alligators and fried pickles with a brief stop on the way in the land of early presidential primaries.

Charlotte International Airport - Concourse B (on right) and Concourse C (on left)

Charlotte-Douglas International Airport serves as a major hub for American Airlines since their acquisition last year of US Airways. A friend of mine used to live in Charlotte, and I'm pretty sure I spend more time here than have over the last year. The USO in the airport has the largest collection of challenge coins that I've ever personally witnessed. One of the volunteers told me today that word on the street is that Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport owns a bigger collection, but Charlotte was working to catch up. I'm happy to report that I added two coins to their collection over my last two trips. I picked up a ham sandwich and bottle of water and headed on down the road.

An afternoon arrival in Mobile, Alabama led to a relatively late night in the office. By the time the end of the day arrived, the lights of the city were shining in all their glory.

Mobile, AL Skyline at Night

The colors displayed on the building have shifted from the Mardi Gras theme of purple, gold, and green since the last time I traveled down here, and I welcome the change. The picture really doesn't do justice to the grandeur of a big city infrastructure with a small town feel. If it weren't for the heat, humidity, and alligators I might imagine myself living here one day. Even those aspects have their charm. As another friend of mine likes to point out, "You don't have to shovel heat." This phrase seems to pop up just after the Mid-Atlantic region falls on the receiving end of sixteen inches of snow. Tough to refute that logic. 

Habit coerces me to admit that I'm looking forward to reveling in astonishment when the day after today is revealed.

Dropping My Ruck

Today, I relieved myself of a few more material burdens, and every day that passes the act of lightening my load gets a little easier. This shirt rainbow that's been sitting in my closet, for the most part unused, is no longer my problem.

Shirt Rainbow - Someone else's burden to carry

I meant to get back out to Riverby books to drop off my collection of Christopher Moore titles, but a hectic schedule and late departure thwarted my meager attempt. I hope there is another day to make that drop because I feel a strong connection, very likely of my own feverish imagining, to the owners of that store who are pursuing their dreams. I hope that's what they're doing anyway because I love the idea of a neighborhood used book store.

I wrapped up the day with some quick snaps of the Washington Navy Yard in the late afternoon. Only a very few more weeks the USS Barry departs. Circumstances forcing me again to expand my horizons for new subjects to photograph.

Late Afternoon or Very Early Evening at the Washington Navy Yard with USS Barry

Daylight savings time seems to be working against me in capturing sunsets. My proclivity for ignoring my alarm counters my attempts at the sunrise. C'est la vie. Loosely translated, that means that if you want to see the sun peeking up over the horizon it's best not to sleep until 0630 in April while located in the Mid-Atlantic region of the United States.

Tomorrow is "climb in the aluminum tube and hurtle across the countryside at an altitude of five miles day," and I'm really looking forward to how the day leaves me scratching my head in wonder.

Growing Into Change

Today started off just right with dawn sunrise over the Washington Navy Yard.

Dawn Breaking over the Washington Navy Yard

The workday progressed as these things often do with too many meetings and far too much unnecessary drama, but there were lighthearted moments and quiet times of reflection. We hosted a baby shower for two soon-to-be fathers of daughters (as long as the sonograms are to be believed anyway). I took the well placed critique of the sense of entitlement displayed by many of her co-workers during previous events and stuck around to clean up the food and wash and dry a few dishes. That felt pretty good, and represented one of the more productive things I accomplished in the 10 hours I spent in the office.

After work, I drove to one of the many book donation boxes that I scoped out last Sunday. When I arrived, I executed the seventh day of my initial minimalism experiment.

Robert Heinlein Rainbow - Seven Books Moving on to a New Home (ONe is a Michael Crichton, but who's counting?)

Six weeks ago, I would not have even considered the possibility of divesting myself of the remaining books in the Robert Heinlein section of my library. All of these books, even the Michael Crichton  represent material things that I've kept because they define who I have become over the years. The words these men wrote have shaped the way I view the world, and I suppose it was comforting to have the physical books to remind me of both my past and how I've gotten to this place in time and space.

Today, one week into this minimalism experiment, my reaction to moving on from these relics of an earlier time and place felt completely different. As I placed them into the donation bin, I felt like a small weight had been lifted. Their words, or the ones that have shaped my thinking anyway, are still with me. Though the memories will likely fade over time, the overall rudder that they've given my life will remain as a course correction that pushed me to where I am today. The books are gone, and it's opened up space in my life and on the shelf for a new experience that will shape who I'll become in the future. A week of practice can make a great deal of difference, and today I felt I was growing into change. I'm left to wonder if the lack of momentum I felt several days ago was merely a shifting of course. On a sailboat, a shift of course invariably leads to a loss of momentum, but sometimes, you just have to tack to follow the course to a destination over the horizon.

The day ended with a sunset over College Creek.

Evening Twilight Settles Over College Creek

With the rise and fall of the sun as the bookends to a productive day peppered with progress, I eagerly anticipate what the passage of Sol across the bend of the earth tomorrow will reveal.

Momentum Tuesday

Yesterday I opined that life appeared to mired in relatively long and marginally deep mud filled bog. That's not exactly what I said, but it's pretty much what I meant. Today felt different. Things started to break free and I gained some small amount of momentum on a number of fronts that have some level of importance to me.

About half way through the afternoon, the folks from Riverby Books called about the books I dropped off yesterday and made me a cash offer that was too high to take so I talked them down a couple of dollars. I may even take some store credit instead. I haven't decided but it was great getting the call back. The primary reason that I negotiated a lower sale price lies in the fact that I really love the venue. A small independent used book store on Capitol Hill. What? I believe strongly in keeping a place like that in business because I know down deep in my heart that the owners are following their passion. That sort of risk taking must be supported, so I negotiated the sale price on some old tomes that offered no other purpose than collect dust on a shelf until yesterday. Those books moved on yesterday, and hopefully, they serve to inspire another reader as they've inspired me.

I took the call on my way out to find the second of three Little Free Libraries  within easy walking distance of my office. I'm happy to report that I successfully located the little nook and dropped off six books to mark the sixth day of my minimalist journey.

Six Books and a Campaign
Poster on a Telephone Junction
Box - Northeast Washington, DC

The joy of exploring new venues with my walking that this path toward reducing the material things that may be anchoring me in the past feels like the right thing to be doing now, and I'm grateful that I've started down this path, however reluctantly that I headed out with the first steps. I'm less than a week into the experiment, and I'm seeing benefits that I never would have predicted.

Little Free Library and It's Matching
Row House in Northeast Washington, DC

A largely uncharted path behind me, I decided to continue rambling through the neighborhoods that had escaped my past explorations. I jumped the street in front of the Library and landed in Lincoln Park. Now I have run around Lincoln Park, and I've driven around Lincoln Park. When I entered the center  of the park, I came in with the knowledge that I'd never been into the interior of Lincoln Park. Let's face it, who could have missed this statue?

Statue Commemorating Educator and Civil Rights Activist Mary McLeod Bethune

Mary McLeod Bethune started an school for African American students in Daytona Beach, FL which eventually grew into Bethune-Cookman University. She served Franklin D. Roosevelt as a national advisor and she's known as "The First Lady of the Struggle"  for her efforts to improve the lives of African Americans during the difficult times in advance of the Civil Rights Movement gaining significant momentum. She's an example of the going about the work that's placed in front of you understanding that you may not live to see the results of your vision but having the grit and tenacity to advance forward in the face of uncertainty. I'm grateful to have made her acquaintance some six decades later.

When I exited the park, I realised that my assumption of never having visited the center of the park was not technically correct. One night, a long time ago, I was driving a car full of my college classmates home from a night of carousing in Georgetown. We came to the intersection of East Capitol Street and 11th Street, and the sign at the intersection indicated that 11th Street was one way in the southerly direction. Now to get back to school, I knew we needed to go a little north and quite a bit east. I saw a road ahead continuing east, and I took it.

Footpath, That LOOKS LIKE A ROAD - Lincoln Park - Washington, DC

This maneuver elicited a great cacophony of protest from my passengers because they rightly recognized, even in their less than stone cold sober state, that I'd chosen to drive the car onto a sidewalk running into the center of the park. I think the photo above documents the fact that my confusion was justified, but there remain some who disagree with that assessment. They're probably right. Fortunately for all of us, I successfully extricated ourselves and our car from the west end of the park and we carried on smartly back to school from there.

Finishing out my jaunt, I came across a grasshopper on a lightpole.

Grasshopper on a Lightpole, Southeast Washington, DC

Finally, I finished up my wanderings by making my way past the grand old lady of the Anacostia.

Spring Afternoon with the USS Barry at the Washington Navy Yard

The USS Barry has become a thematic feature of my walking and my writing, but that won't last for too much longer. Since, as far as I can tell, no one is reading this missive the repetitive nature of these pictures should not cause too much bother. If it does, know that there are not too many more days of having to put up with it.

I'm grateful that today seemed to be a day where I gained some momentum. Boredom was pushed aside and wonder in the gift of living and working in a great city experienced a rebirth. Days like today give the fortitude to push through those days where no chance is evident and I sense I have lost my momentum. Per my normal routine, I look forward to being surprised by whatever wonders unfold in the coming day.

Holding Pattern

Every now and then, life develops in such a way that the events seem like I'm in some sort of holding pattern. The last several weeks feel like that sort of cycle. Nothing moves, and the general feel is that tension is slowly building to some new path or direction. The way things are working out is not bad or good, but I want something to break free and identify a particular path forward.

I'm still making progress. Today, I divested myself of five books at a newly opened book store on East Capitol Street between Fifth and Fourth. I passed this place the other day, and they indicated that they purchased books. The lovely young lady manning the register when I came in this afternoon indicated that she wasn't the person who could price books for purchase by the store. I was out for my afternoon walk, so not wanting to carry the books back to my car I left the books with the clerk. She also took my name and my phone number, so I departed the store, relieved of the weight of the five books and my contact information.

Minimalism Donation of Five Books

It turns out that I'm probably not smart enough to work at Google, but it does feel good to create a hole in my bookshelf. This early experiment in minimalism appears to have resulted in gaining a much greater sense of clarity on why I've held onto material things for much longer than they appear to have any use. Two reasons seem to dominate my thinking. The first thing that pops into my head when contemplating what to give up next is that I should hold onto the thing "just in case" I might need it at some imagined time in the future. The prevalence of this thinking surprises me a little. The strength of the argument is not objectively high, but it's a powerful motivator. I believe this says something about the power of imagination for a yet to be experienced future. Thankfully, I've learned to recognize this argument for the balderdash it represents and have developed some level of discipline to counter it.

My ego devises a second, more subtle argument. I've experienced this argument with both books and clothing, so far, but it comes to the forefront with books more strongly. I look at a book, and I remember reading it, experiencing it, and understand how it has impacted my life. The book has become a part of how I define myself, and I find it quite difficult to part with the physical manifestation of how my ego defines who I am in the present and how I became that person. This internal check on my stated desire to simplify creates a higher level of anxiety. On the upside I've found that if I can get past the initial emotional reaction and actually give up that physical manifestation of self, I find a clearer path to thinking about the opportunities that exist going forward. The holes in my bookshelf have cleared my mind to be able to think more deliberately about what should now fill that space. I think the answer is not much, but the great thing about it is that the space is now clear and the opportunities are easier to see.

I wrapped up my walk by visiting my old friend on the Anacostia.

Anacostia Afternoon with USS Barry

If my schedule develops according to plan, I'll sadly miss the last day that the USS Barry spends at her pier in the Anacostia River. The 6th of May should mark the last day when she slips her moorings and begins the long(ish) journey to be recycled. That day, whenever it may actually occur, will mark the end of a three decade era that the ship served as a visible reminder to the residents and visitors to Washington, DC of the history of the Navy in the shaping of the United States. She's become such a part of my walking routine, that her departure will create one of those holes like the ones developing in my bookshelf. I believe I'll be sad to see her go, but sometimes looking forward requires one to remove monuments to the past. 

We'll see what happens tomorrow on my journey of clearing the past to make way for the future. As always, I hope and believe I'll be surprised.

Donation Boxes

The clouds parted, the sun came out, and although the weather was still a little cool I shifted my focus today and started locating (or at least trying to locate) donation boxes. I'm coupling this foray into minimalism with at least two other aspects of my daily practice. If possible, I'm walking to the "excess stuff" drop off locations, and I'm spreading the wealth in a fit of exploration. I don't know if it will all work out, but it feels pretty righteous right now.

Today, the walk to the donation box took me a different direction primarily along one of my more familiar routes. Due to the foot, I haven't walked this one since the middle of January, and this afternoon proved to be quite a bit more pleasant than 28 degrees and a north wind.

College Creek Under a Spring Sky

The watershed around College Creek shows signs of awakening, and the cherry blossoms around the Maryland Statehouse are still in full bloom.

Cherry Blossoms on State Circle

The sky was clear and blue, and although the air was chilly the sidewalks and streets and businesses were crowded with more than a handful of people eager to get out of their dens and start sucking the marrow out of life again.

Maryland Statehouse on a Glorious Spring Day

All the people out milling around forced me to think a little about some of my habits. It occurred to me that while I'd walked past the Maryland Statehouse at least a hundred times, I had never walked up the hill to get up close and personal. The one time that I ventured off the sidewalk facing the street, I took a quick picture of a statue and beat a hasty retreat to my familiar trail. I walk to explore, but somehow, during the execution of my ambulatory affairs, I forget that spirit of new horizons and push my nose right back into the comforting grindstone. It's a peculiar lack of creativity during an activity specifically designed to break my mold and reintroduce me to a touch of artistry and wonder. Weird.

Maryland Statehouse and Some Sort of Red Tree

However it happened, today the mold cracked a little, and some new vistas caught my eye. They showed a curious mix of the routine coupled with a whole new perspective, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to mix things up just a bit.

Adding the challenge of offloading things that have bound me to my past has been a good exercise for the first four days of the journey. I look forward to sending five more books out into the wild tomorrow and seeing just what kind of adventure those relics of a time past its sell by date bring to bear in the present.