The Calm Before the Storm

I’ve noticed a pattern with my blog posting frequency: Whenever my daily life is going through a period of change, or when my short-term vision (1-6 months) is suddenly unclear, I tend to retract from expressing anything whatsoever; I retreat into the safety of my own brain until my short-term future is a little more clear. During that time, my posting frequency dries up and I have trouble organizing enough thoughts to write a single post. I'm beginning to realize that an unclear short-term vision creates an instantaneous writers block for me.

Everyone’s daily life changes from time to time, but the “period of change” I’m referring to affects more than just my personal life and short-term goals. Many other things are simultaneously changing: new blogs, new business ventures, new exercise routines, and even new writing environments and bank accounts. Some of my short-term goals are being completed (skydiving, scuba diving) and energy is being refocused to remaining goals (speed-reading, learning the piano). At the same time, the goals of existing projects (such as this blog) are are being redefined. I feel as though I’m revving up for all these changes and there’s one giant switch that’s about to flip.

But don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to say that I dislike change or that I wish my “plans” weren’t disrupted. Quite to the contrary, I enjoy life throwing me surprises and reminding me that any plan, no matter how perfect, is destined for change. Expecting a plan not to change is guaranteeing myself disappointment. The only things I try to expect are this very moment, the lessons the past has to teach me, and the unpredictable potential the future holds. I’m constantly attempting to harness the power of the moment to augment the future while simultaneously searching for balance in life.

The PADI Open Water Diver Course

The following is a semi-detailed account of the PADI Open Water Diver course I took last weekend. Anyone considering taking the course, or just curious about diving, may find it useful.

The Open Water Diver course offered by PADI is an entry-level course designed for people who are not familiar with diving. The course provides you with the basic knowledge of skills, equipment, and theory to safely dive to a depth of about 18 meters (60 ft).

Pre-class homework

After signing up for the course, I was given a packet containing the Open Water Diver Manual, the Recreational Dive Planner (RDP), a diver log book, and various other fliers and informational material. I was told I had to read all five chapters in the book and complete all five knowledge reviews before coming into class.

The book material was interesting and covered a wide range of topics, including scuba equipment and usage, the effects of changing air pressure on the human body, and even things like the ocean tides and types of waves. While the book covered more than I expected and left me feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the information, once I understood the concepts and actually got in the water to use the equipment, everything made perfect sense.

Class - Chapter Quizzes and Final Exam

The first four hours of the class consisted of our instructor, Beth, taking turns asking us to read our answers from the knowledge reviews. She then explained any answers we got wrong and made sure we understood the answers. We then took short 10-15 question quizzes on each chapter as we finished reviewing the knowledge reviews. Once again, Beth explained to us any answers we got wrong. The whole quiz process was very informal.

After reviewing and taking multiple-choice quizzes on all five chapters, we took a final exam (also multiple-choice). The final exam was 50 questions, 25% of which consisted of dive table problems.

The dive tables were probably the most difficult part of the coursework, but once you understand how to use them they’re really quite simple. A separate book that came with the RDP explained how to use the dive tables. (The dive tables basically let you figure out how long you can stay at a particular depth underwater and how much time you need to wait before a second or third dive. The longer you’re underwater, the more nitrogen makes its way into your blood. Eventually the nitrogen becomes dangerous to the human body. The dive tables help you avoid the danger by planning your dives within safe limits.)

Once the final exam was done, Beth had me find a BCD and a wetsuit that fit (BCD stands for Buoyancy Control Device; it’s usually a vest that holds the scuba tank and contains inflatable pockets to control your buoyancy in the water). She then had me put all the gear and two scuba tanks in my truck and gave me directions to the pool.

Pool time - Finally in the water!

When I arrived at the pool, Beth told me it was just me and her; the other student said she wasn’t feeling well (she also didn’t do so well on the final exam; she had trouble with the dive tables). After unloading the gear and changing into my bathing suit, I had to do an 8-lap swim in the pool without touching the sides or the bottom, followed by 10 minutes of treading water on the deep end. These tests are required as part of the course and are done to prove fitness and comfort level in the water. You’re allowed as much rest as you need in between the two tests.

Next came the fun part. I learned how to assemble the scuba gear: attaching the scuba tank to the BCD, attaching the first stage of the regulator to the tank, connecting the BCD inflator hose, and finally turning on the air and checking the Submersible Pressure Gauge (SPG). As required by the course, I had to assemble and disassemble the scuba gear a total of five times before the course was over.

The next four hours consisted of various activities of increasing difficulty. I learned how to flood and then clear my mask underwater; how to breathe using an alternate air source; how to make a Controlled Emergency Swimming Ascent (CESA); how to remove the gear under and above water; different methods of entering the water wearing scuba gear; and various other techniques and exercises.

By the end of the night, I was very comfortable with the scuba gear. The diving manual had given me the impression that the equipment was complicated, but once I had used it and seen the purpose of each piece, the equipment was really easy to understand and use.

Normally the pool work would have been spread out over two days, but because it was just me and the instructor, everything went really fast (four hours vs eleven hours!).

Swimming in Real Water

While the confined water dives (in the pool) are an important part of the course, I also need to complete a total of four open water dives to actually get my Open Water Diver certification. The open water dive locations are chosen by the instructor and can be done on a lake or in the ocean.

Unfortunately, I took this course late in the season and winter is fast approaching. This means I will most likely have to do my open water dives next spring. From what the instructor told me, I will basically be doing the same exercises I did in the pool. Each of the four dives must last a minimum of 20 minutes and will most likely be at a depth of 20-30ft.

Taking my First Breath Underwater

One of my 2009 resolutions was to become a certified scuba diver. At the time of writing my resolutions, I didn’t even know what “certified scuba diver” meant; I just knew that scuba diving was something I’ve always wanted to do.

A few months ago I realized it was getting late in the year and time was running out, so I visited Northeast Scuba, a local dive shop in Chelmsford, MA, and spoke to the guy behind the counter. He explained the Open Water Diver certification offered by PADI allows a diver to use scuba equipment down to 60 feet and that it’s a very popular entry to all other diving certifications offered by PADI, such as Rescue Diver, Deep Diver, Wreck Diver, and Advanced Open Water Diver.

After signing up for the course, I was required to complete homework before coming into the class. There were five chapters in the Open Water Diver manual, each with a knowledge review at the end. After reading the first chapter and completing the first knowledge review, I procrastinated until a day before the class was scheduled and spent eight hours straight (until three in the morning) reading the remaining chapters and completing all the knowledge reviews (not recommended!).

The Open Water Diver manual contained lots of interesting stuff: everything from scuba equipment, to dangers of pressure underwater, to ocean currents and wave types. It did a great job explaining topics that would’ve otherwise been difficult to understand.

The day before I was scheduled to take the class, I sprained my ankle bad enough that I had to reschedule the class. A few days before the rescheduled class, I got a call saying the instructor had an emergency and that the class had to be rescheduled again.

Finally, this past weekend the stars aligned and I took the class. The class took place in the back room of the dive shop and was very small: only myself and another student (an accountant in her mid to late 40s). The quizzes and final exam were easy, but time consuming.

After the classwork, I loaded up my rented scuba gear and two scuba tanks, went on a one hour lunch, and drove to the pool, which was located in a fitness center in Boxboro, MA, about 20 minutes away. When I arrived, I learned that the other student wasn’t coming (she didn’t feel well and had trouble with the dive tables on the final exam), so it was just me an the instructor.

My first breath underwater was pretty much what I had expected. What I had not expected, however, is what came next. After being under for longer than I could hold my breath, I literally felt as though I had entered a new world! When you're in scuba gear, everything happens in slow motion underwater. Once you obtain neutral buoyancy there is very little affect from gravity; you're basically weightless. It’s hard to explain how this affects the way you perceive your environment and I think it's something you have to experience first-hand to really appreciate.

I had so much fun going through all the different diving exercises and learning about all the scuba gear, including how to assemble and disassemble everything. I practiced things like flooding and clearing my mask underwater, various emergency ascents, finding neutral buoyancy, and various methods of entering the water (one big leap, going in backwards off a boat, entering from the shore).

With all my pool work done, I now just need to do four open water dives (in a lake or ocean) to become a certified Open Water Diver. Since it’s so late in the season, there’s a good chance I’ll have to wait until next spring to complete the four open water dives, but once I’ve got my certification, I’m definitely going to work towards other certifications (like the Advanced Open Water Diver and Rescue Diver).

I’ve long suspected that I would love diving and I can already feel myself itching to go back under. I know the confined dives aren't quite the same as the open water, but I expect the open water to be even more incredible.

Falling to Earth from 12,000ft

12,000ft above the Earth

One of my 2009 resolutions was to complete the Accelerated Free Fall (AFF) program which meant my first jump would've been solo. However, when I called Skydive New England to schedule the AFF jump, they told me the season was over and I'd have to wait until next spring. My girlfriend Jessica had already committed to jumping tandem and, although it was a little hard to accept the change in plans, I quickly got over it and decided to also jump tandem.

"For once you have tasted flight
you will walk the earth
with your eyes turned skyward,
for there you have been
and there you long to return."

- Leonardo da Vinci

It was absolutely incredible. We jumped at 12,000 ft. Everything happened so fast and it's still hard to believe it really happened. The staff at Skydive New England were awesome. Big Jim, the guy I jumped with, was really fun (he has completed over 6,000 jumps!) and the videographer (I forgot her name) was pretty good at getting me to make faces and talk.

I was surprised that I didn't feel more fear as I jumped out of the plane but I have a suspicion that jumping solo will be a little different. (With tandem, you're attached to an experienced skydiver who has had thousands of jumps and who pushes the two of you out of the plane. Going solo however, it's your own muscles that are pushing your body out of the plane.) I've already started saving for the entire AFF program (25 jumps) to get my A license next spring (that will allow me to jump solo anywhere for around $20!).

The photos are awesome (click the photo at the top to see the whole album).

Floating in a Bubble

The past few weeks have been quite unusual, to say the least. Things around me seem to be happening so fast that all I can do is sit back and watch in awe and wonder. It seems pretty amazing to me that just two months ago, given as many tries as I wanted, I wouldn't have been able to guess that my life would be where it is now.

I've always felt as though everything around me wasn't real, as if my entire life was just a big elaborate dream. (If you've ever had a dream that you knew was a dream, you know how I feel while awake.) I still feel that way, only now I feel like I'm having a dream inside a dream, where in that dream I'm floating in a bubble not sure where I'm going to float to next.

This feeling of the unknown is not something I'm usually comfortable with, but the more time I spent wondering what I should do about it, the more I realized I was missing out on the moment. I am very happy and grateful for where I am now and wasting the moment seems like a horrible thing to do. As I pondered these new events in my life, a little voice in my head began whispering to me, "just run with it and see where it takes you".

We're all living in bubbles. We might have an blurry idea of the direction the wind is blowing us, but we really have no clue how we're going to end up getting there. Each one of us lives a life that we cannot fully predict. We meet people we didn't know we'd meet; we do things we didn't think we'd do; we go places that we previously couldn't have imagined a reason for going. Our bubble floats and bounces around throughout life, eventually bumping into something that makes our physical existence no more. Pop!

But this doesn't mean we should give up all control and just blow wherever the wind takes us. We should be mindful of the present and humbled by the unpredictability of life. Our ambitions, dreams, and purpose should guide us along the way but not create roadblocks. Our life shouldn't be rigid and easily upset by unexpected events. Instead, we should allow our life to flow like water.

Embrace unexpected events in life the same way water embraces an obstacle.

Developing Intimate Familiarity

When I started taking piano lessons, my tutor was constantly stressing the importance of becoming intimately familiar with all 88 keys, the sound each one made, and the musical notation that corresponded to each key. I understood why all that was important, but I really had no idea how becoming intimately familiar felt or even looked like. That changed today.

My tutor has me practicing several different areas simultaneously. There are seven separate sections but they can roughly be split up into three areas: exercises on the piano, reading and recognizing notes on paper, and rhythm and ear training. The most difficult part for me has been joining these different areas. I can practice stuff on the piano and then stop and read notes on paper, but connecting the notes on the paper to the keys on the piano just doesn't seem to happen.

Then today, just as I was finishing a one hour practice session and writing down what I had practiced, I had an idea for how I could work on connecting the various areas as I practiced them: I would start using my little music notation notebook (a Moleskin) for keeping track of not only time but the actual notes that I practiced. Instead of just writing "Practiced the D Major scale: 20 min", I would actually write out the musical notes for the D Major scale that I played and then make a note of how much time I spent practicing them. Making a habit of writing the notes every time would mean automatically strengthening the connection between the notes and the keys that I'm playing.

When you watch a good musician play an instrument, you can tell the instrument has become an extension of him or herself. It has become as familiar and comfortable to them as their own hands and feet. Once that happens, there is no discomfort limiting their ability to create music; the music can just flow through them. Learning a new instrument (especially a first instrument) is basically like adding a new body part to yourself -- a third arm or leg. Becoming intimately familiar and comfortable with such a new body part takes a lot of concentrated practice.

I spent about twenty minutes writing notes and playing them at the same time and wow. Everything feels like it's starting to connect! It's almost like I finally figured out how to attach nerves to this new body part, instead of just brainlessly moving things around.

Mt. Tecumseh

On Labor Day, I hiked Mt. Tecumseh, the lowest of the official 48 four thousand footers in NH. The trail starts just below the Waterville Valley ski area base camp (slightly back down the road on the right side, if you're facing the base camp). The first two miles of the trail were beautiful and well maintained. In some parts, the forest was so lush it felt tropical. After the first lookout (where the above picture was taken), the trail becomes a lot more unforgiving and you're basically doing stair climbers on rocks for a mile and a half (my thighs ached for days afterwards).

The summit area was extremely lush and the peak offered a nice view. I took a nap at the summit, snapped some pictures of a beautiful sky, watched a mouse scramble out from underneath a rock looking for scraps, and eventually ended back down.

Instead of going back the same way I came, I took the Sosman Trail over to the top of the ski trails. The panoramic view was indescribably stunning, but unfortunately by this time my camera had run out of battery. (I was, however, able to snap two pictures half way down.) Having an unobstructed view from the top all the way down to the base lodge was incredible and being on such a grassy hillside definitely made me feel like I wasn't in New England anymore. I switched between jogging, walking, and limping down the ski trails. My feet were in a lot of pain from the previous day's hike and from all the down-angled terrain, but at the same time I wanted to get down faster so the pain would cease.

Date of Hike
2008/09/07

Hiking Time
Total Time (including breaks): 4 hours
Book Time: 3.5 hours

Hiking Distance
Round Trip: 9.6 miles

Total Climb
2,328′

Mt. Tripyramid (North & South Peak)

North Slide on Mt. Tripyramid

On Labor Day weekend, I hiked Mt. Tripyramid, one of the official 48 four thousand footers in NH. The trail starts out with a relatively easy 3 mile walk along Livermore Rd. I went past the South Peak trail and took the North Peak trail instead. This trail went up the very steep North Slide (which is where the above picture was taken from); the rock face was very bare in some spots, requiring me to find cracks in the rock to hold myself down as I climbed. The panoramic view from the North Slide was awesome. The Waterville Valley ski area and Mt. Tecumseh, the mountain I climbed the following day, was clearly visible. There were times on the North Slide where I had no idea where the trail was (stay to the right on the slide!) but it eventually lead to a very dense forest.

Once inside the forest, the trail almost disappeared. There was a spot where I thought the trail branched off to the right, but after getting confused and exploring it, I determined it lead nowhere. The trail continues straight up and off to the left (the maps don't show this at all) through very dense bushes (you can't even see the ground while going through them). There was one spot on a rock in the dense bushes where the view opened up to the South.

There weren't many views from the North Peak. The trail continued along the ridge through thick forest to Middle and finally South Peak. I took the South Slide back down, which had a lot more loose rock, but felt much safer than the very steep North Slide.

After the South Slide, the trail continued through the forest and eventually lead back to Livermore Rd. From there, I had the long 3 mile walk back to the parking lot.

I used a new app on my iPhone called RunKeeper to track my hike using the built-in GPS. You can see elevation, speed, and the route:

Date of Hike
2009/09/06

Hiking Time
Total Time: 5 hours 42 minutes
Book Time: 7 hours

Hiking Distance
Round Trip: 10.5 miles

Total Climb
3,289′

Labor Day Weekend Camping Trip

I went camping this past Labor Day weekend and bagged three more of the official 48 four-thousand footers in NH, increasing my current total to seven (I did Mt. Hancock and Mt. Osceola almost exactly two years ago on Labor Day weekend of 2007). I hadn't planned the trails I would hike and it wasn't until I started reading the trail book that I decided to start tackling the official list of 48. Two posts with details of the hikes will follow this one over the next two days.

Shortly after arriving at my campsite, I accidentally discovered my point-and-shoot camera (an Olympus 770sw) had a macro-mode that allowed me to take some incredible closeups. As you can see from the various flower pictures, I had fun with it (look for more awesome closeups on my last hike when that gets posted).

My excursion lasted four days and three nights, Saturday afternoon through Tuesday morning. The trip was incredibly relaxing and invigorating, more so than I expected. After my second hike on Monday my feet were very, very sore. I pulled off the road, walked down to the river, took off my shirt and shoes, and walked out into the middle of the river. I found a big flat rock and laid in the sun with my bare feet soaking the cold water. It was awesome.

For several days after I returned, I felt strangely different. Relaxed, yes, but also connected -- connected to everything around me and at total peace. It was a deep inner relaxation and peace. Why didn't I feel that way every time I returned from camping? The last time I remembered feeling like that I had also been gone for three nights, so perhaps that had something to do with it. Or maybe I was able to relax a little more than usual because I had made it clear to everyone that I was really going to be off-the-grid and unavailable. Whatever the case, it was incredible. If three nights can do that much, I can't help but wonder what six months hiking the Appalachian Trail must do to a person.

The bad guy isn't technology, it's our inexperience

The topic of discussion on NPR this morning was E-Memory and Human Nature. They were discussing how the future prevalence of large-scale computing power and massive storage (resulting in the storing of our memories, events in our lives, etc) will change human nature and what it means to be human.

One of the guests, and most of the callers, were worried about offloading our memories and processing power to a machine. They feared it would turn us into organisms with a powerful brain but with nothing to do; they feared the repercussions would make us less human.

What I think they're missing is that humans are inherently creative and curious. If we have more free space in our heads and more free time on our hands, we're not going to waste it away with pointless activities (at least not for very long); we'll gravitate towards being more creative and exploring areas of life that would otherwise have not been within reach.

The acceptance of mundane tasks and jobs as a part of our daily lives slows the progress of human civilization. While there are many socially, physically, and even culturally harmful effects of technology today, I think they can be directly attributed to the fact that this stuff is so damn new to us.

Humankind has never seen technology of today's complexity, at least not in recorded history. We have no idea how to cope with the changes technology is bringing about and so, like a baby learning to walk, we're bound to make mistakes and do things that make technology appear like the bad guy (and in many cases it is the bad guy; we just haven't figured out how to use it properly yet).

Finding a balance and living in harmony with technology is what I believe we'll eventually realize we must do. However, I don't think that we've even begun to realize that we much search for that, let alone begun the search at all.

Awhile vs A While

Today while writing an email, I used the word "awhile" and then realized I wasn't sure if I should be using "awhile" or "a while". So, as I always do, I quickly looked up the definition for "awhile" in the dictionary on my Mac (which, using Quicksilver, is as easy as Cmd+Space -> "dic" -> Enter). I was very surprised to see this definition:

awhile: for a short time

I've always thought, and used, both "awhile" and "a while" to mean a period of time longer than a short time. So then I checked Google's definitions:

awhile: for a short time
a while: a period of indeterminate length (usually short)

Wow, still very confusing! I dug a little further on Google, searching for a good rule that would help me remember which to use while writing. I think I finally found one:

awhile always means "for a while"
a while usually means "for a length of time", and is sometimes accompanied by a preposition, such as "I left work a while ago". You can also add adjectives to further describe the amount of time implied, such as "Its been a long while" or "Please wait for a short while".

Now whenever I need to determine if using "awhile" makes sense, I can simply replace it with "for a while" and see if the sentence still sounds right. For example, "I left work awhile ago" would mean "I left work for a while ago", which is of course wrong. I use a similar rule to remember when to use "it's" and "its"; the former always translates into "it is".

My swim trunks and a tiny island

Today at my parents house I swam 1/4 mile to a tiny island (the lake is called Little Island Pond, but it's actually a lake and it has two islands; a little one and a big one). I wasn't planning on swimming all the way there but I decided it was a nice day so why not. I've been wanting to start training for a triathlon and swimming is definitely an area where I need to work on my endurance and technique. I tried to stay close to shore and raise my hand and splash my feet whenever it looked like a boat coming towards me might not see me.

When I got to the tiny island (a big pile of rocks with a few shrubs and lily pads all around) I found a suitable sized flat rock and laid down in the sun. It was so peaceful. Boats and jet skis would roar by every now and then, sending waves rippling towards the rocks, eventually crashing and lightly splashing water on me. My iPhone was a 1/4 mile away. No buzzing. No ringing. Not even the possibility of it. It was literally just me, my swim trunks, and a bunch of rocks in the middle of a lake.

I had no way of tracking time and I don't know how long I ended up staying there. I wasn't thinking about time. I was just enjoying the moment. It's amazing how quickly time can pass when you're thoroughly enjoying the moment. Eventually I slipped back into the water and made my way back. I practiced the combat side stroke, a technique used by the Navy SEALs. It's amazing how well the technique moves you through the water. When I looked up at the shoreline, it seemed like I was moving at the speed of a slow jog!

One thing I like to do is track my distance in various activities. If I spend an hour swimming, I'd like to know how far I swam so I can try to improve on the time. A few days ago I started using an app on my iPhone called RunKeeper. It tracks distance and time using the built-in GPS and even plots your route on a Google Map. Awesome. So I thought, "Hey, if I could get my iPhone in a waterproof case and drag it along behind me while I swim, I should be able to track the distance in the same way!"

With the plan in my head seeming flawless, I purchased a waterproof case from Eastern Mountain Sports. When I arrived at my parents house I put the iPhone in the waterproof case, stole a shoelace from my brothers' boot, tied the case to my ankle, and started swimming. I took a peek at the case to make sure no water got inside. So far so good. I swam about 100 feet and checked again. Hmm, the app stopped recording the distance. It looked like someone touched the screen. Maybe the iPhone touchscreen was being finicky and responding to the temperature of the water? Weird. I turned around and swam back.

When I got to the shore and looked at the iPhone through the case, I noticed water inside. WTF? That would explain the weird touchscreen responses! I was pretty shocked. There was water in the waterproof case! Luckily, the iPhone still worked. (The Griffin hard case I've kept it in since the day I bought it probably helped.) I returned the case to EMS today.

Thanks to Google, I figured out an easy way to estimate my swimming distance using Google Maps:

Swim Route

The total distance round trip was about 1/2 a mile. I plan to continue swimming on the weekends, even as it gets colder. If the Navy SEAL trainees (BUD/S) can swim and train in near freezing water, then so can I (check out some of these videos if you feel like being inspired).

You are what you repeatedly do

I've been taking piano lessons for the past two months. I haven't written about it here on my blog but I'll save the details of what motivated me to learn the piano for another post. Right now I'm writing because I recognized something after two months of taking piano lessons. A weekly thirty-minute one-on-one session with a coach doesn't make someone a proficient pianist. It's the practice that makes someone a proficient pianist.

But I already knew that. In fact, when I started taking lessons I knew that if I didn't practice I wouldn't get anywhere. Now it's been two months and I feel like I don't know nearly as much as I should. Every week I end up not practicing enough because I constantly put practice off until tomorrow, telling myself that I can make up for it later. As the weekly session with my coach gets closer, I feel more and more anxiety for not having practiced enough. I fear he will call me out on it and get angry. But why should he? It's not his fault. There is no one to blame for lack of practice but myself! I'm paying him for his time and if I choose not to make use of what I'm paying for then I'm only screwing myself. No one else.

That's another interesting thing. Every week I feel so sure my coach will call me out for not practicing enough but every single time I leave the session calm and relaxed. I'm sure he notices that I haven't practiced but he doesn't get angry or make me feel bad for not practicing. Instead he calmly coaches me and helps me improve, even if the improvements are barely noticeable. Sure, yelling and screaming can be useful when you're pushing your physical body and trying to block out what your brain is telling you, but when you're trying to get your brain to learn something new it has to want to do it. Pressuring your brain into learning just won't work.

Practice under stress is bad. Very bad. Our brains are wired to shut down certain areas when we're stressed out. Stress makes learning much more difficult. If we're stressed out every time we practice, we're not going to look forward to practicing (and when we do, it won't be effective anyway). Practice should be fun. Science has even proven that we learn faster and remember more when we're having fun!

When I started learning the piano, I set myself a goal of being able to play Fur Elise by December 25th, 2009. That's about four months away. At the rate I'm going now it will probably take me another year. But I can fix that. I can shorten one year of skill development into four months. All I need to do is commit to practicing and make it a regular habit. It needs to become a routine -- as routine as sleeping or brushing my teeth. And it needs to be regular. Cramming in a six-hour practice session the day I'm meeting with my coach won't help my brain form new synapses.

You are what you repeatedly do. That's my new mantra. Earlier today I opened a random book on my bookshelf and turned to a random page and saw that quote. Starting today, I'm going to write that sentence every single morning when I wake up and spend a few seconds contemplating what I want to be. Do I want to be nothing? Then I should do things that equate to nothing. Do I want to be a decent pianist? Then I should practice the piano daily.

MAC Address Validation Regex with egrep

I needed an easy way to validate a MAC address in a bash script that generated a unique hostname based on the MAC address of the system. This gem did the trick:

echo "00:11:24:3e:a5:78" | egrep "^([0-9a-fA-F]{2}:){5}[0-9a-fA-F]{2}$"

In the event that there was a problem getting the MAC address (e.g., faulty NIC or unstable device driver), I generate a random hostname instead of basing the hostname generation on the MAC. Here's how I validated the MAC in the script:

if [ `echo $ACTIVE_INTERFACE_MAC | egrep "^([0-9a-fA-F]{2}:){5}[0-9a-fA-F]{2}$"` ]; then
    # generate unique hostname based on MAC
else
    # generate random-character hostname
fi

Using my feet for that which they were designed

I've walked more in the past few days than I have in the past few months. Yesterday I clocked in 8 miles on my feet and 4 miles the day before, all while wearing sandals and carrying a 15lb bag in 90 degree heat. My feet are on the verge of blistering and I absolutely love it! It feels so good to finally be using my body for that which it was designed instead of moulding it to a machine.

Becoming interested in the lives of others

The more comfortable I get with who I am, and the closer I become to being the person I've always seen myself as being, the more interested I find myself becoming in other people's lives. I can only imagine the huge repercussions that will have for someone who feels they have been anti-social their entire life.

Somerville Apartment

As some of you already know, and as I mentioned a few weeks ago, I decided to move back to the city. I found a room for rent in Somerville for $400 a month + utilities ($30-$130/mo depending on the season).

While I moved at the beginning of this month, I was also simultaneously helping my parents move out of their 2000 Sq ft office space (the same one I was previously occupying). There was a lot of stuff to move and being the only one with a (real) pickup truck, I was extremely busy. I didn't even sleep at my new apartment in Somerville for the first few nights because I was so busy in NH.

Anyway, as is customary every time I move, here are the pictures of my new place (I'll get pictures of my previous place up too, and explain why I haven't posted them sooner). I'm in the process of getting rid of nearly all my possessions -- down to the point where I can carry everything I own. As you can see I'm not quite there yet, but I'm getting there. 🙂

Somerville Apartment

The more we have, the less we appreciate

This post started as a comment in response to Colin Wright's post on Your Money or Your Life. The comment grew long enough that I decided to turn my response into this post.

There are two things that cannot be bought with money: Time and Happiness.

Sure, you might be able to "buy" someone's time, but you cannot buy back time that has already been spent! Therefore time is an invaluable resource. Likewise, happiness cannot be bought. You can buy things that you think will make you happy, but the happiness itself will always come from somewhere inside. You really don't need anything external to obtain it!

I find it amazing how many people go through their entire lives thinking that more money equals more happiness. They get stressed and unhappy due to the absence of money and naturally they assume having more of it will reverse the effect. In reality, what's making them unhappy are the choices they've made; the little luxuries they've decided are absolutely necessary to live their life (cable TV, cars, expensive foods, tobacco, alcohol, big house, movies, etc.).

All of those things provide a very temporary and unsustainable happiness. As a result, their life becomes a snowballing roller coaster of wanting more and more. The more they want, the more money they convince themselves they need. The more money they need, the more stressed out and unhappy they become. Where does it end? Sadly, for most people it ends with death.

I come from a middle class family. While my perspective is not the same as someone from a lower class family, I can see that the same patterns emerge from one class to the next. The things everyone truly cares about are pretty much the same. One persons' poor, is another persons' rich. The family we're born into often defines the living standard by which we judge and perceive the world around us. But how different is the rich person from the poor person? Do they experience a different kind of happiness? A different kind of sadness? A different kind of love? How about hunger? Do rich and poor people get different feelings from laughter?

I speak as a single guy, with very few true responsibilities. I have no kids to take care of or family that needs to be looked after. I understand that my perspective and ideas may not apply to other situations. Nevertheless, there are many very happy families living with far less than the average family in the United States. Do they experience a lower quality happiness? When their kids laugh and play together, do they experience a lower quality joy? True happiness isn't something that can be bought with money.

We're all human. If we really want to be happy we need to look deep inside ourselves for happiness. It's there. Everyone has it. No one person has less happiness-making-capacity than the next. It's really tough to forget that all the material stuff around us, regardless of how much importance we place on it, really has nothing to do with our true happiness. That's a tough pill to swallow when some of us work day and night to afford the stuff.

So what better way to find the true source of happiness than to strip yourself of all things material? I grew up in a relatively rural area, a small town in New Hampshire with a forest and a lake for a backyard. I was home schooled and spent most of my childhood outside exploring nature. When friends would visit for the first time, their impression would always be one of amazement. I never understood that. At least not until I moved away and lived in the city for two years. When I visited my parents on the weekends, I started to feel something I never felt before. Visiting my parents house, the very place I grew up, started to feel like going on vacation! I felt so much appreciation for the place.

That experience made me realize how the little things we take for granted can spoil our entire life. Have you ever come back from a camping trip and felt a little more grateful for having a shower? How about when the power comes back on after being out for more than a day? We should feel that way every minute of every day for the life we have. For working legs, eyes, hands, ears, and mouth. We should be grateful for every second that passes; for each beat of our heart, and each breath we take.

Take a deep breath of air right now. Close your eyes and fill your chest with life-giving air. Appreciate it a little more than you did the previous breath. Do it right now. I'll wait.

Didn't that feel good? You take an average of 20,000 of those every single day. That's a lot to be grateful for!

I've decided to get rid of nearly all my material possessions because I know it will make me feel more grateful. I know it will enable me to see more clearly. We humans (yes, even modern ones) don't need very much to survive. Food and shelter. That's it. Most of us are fortunate enough to have working feet to help us travel, yet so few of us use them for real commuting. What about money? When we remove all modern-day comforts and really drill down to the bare necessities, we don't need very much of that either. Of course how much money will differ depending on where we're living, but most of us live way above necessity.

Find something you own that you haven't used in over a month. Now find someone that you can give it to. Don't worry about how much it cost you or why you originally bought it. You haven't used it in over a month and you most likely won't use it for the foreseeable future. Just find something and give it away. By giving it away you'll not only build good karma, you'll also feel a little more appreciative of all the stuff you currently have.

The more we have, the less we appreciate. The less we have, the more we appreciate. Do you want to appreciate more or less of life?

Possessions: The Closing of a Chapter

A chapter of my life is coming to a close. It's been a chapter of personal discovery and new awareness, of material possessions and excessiveness; it's been a chapter of alternate paths and of decision making, of introspection and stepping out of comfort zones.

In the past decade, I've gone through living in over a dozen different places, including tiny attics, basements, offices, studios, and entire floors of houses. I've spent outrageous money for rent ($950/mo for a 450sqft studio), utilities ($500 heat bills), and other bills (cable, broadband, etc), all in the name of independence.

I've owned lots of stuff. For the first seven years of having a drivers license, I had a different car each year. For six years I was a landlord with three multi-family houses. I took care of all the property maintenance myself which meant owning lots of different tools. I had several TVs, various computers, gym equipment, a kayak, mountain bike, and the list goes on. To make things worse, the plentiful storage space provided by the properties easily masked the volume of "stuff" I owned. I feel as though I've had nearly everything material that I could have wanted. Oh, and I slaved away to afford the stuff, sometimes working 60 - 80 hours a week, sometimes working three jobs.

But why? The lifestyle I've always wanted to live can best be described as that of a nomad; someone who travels from place to place with no permanent residence (or at least can travel). Such a person wouldn't own very much. They wouldn't own a house, a car, a desktop computer, or a TV. They would only own what they can carry with them. Living such a lifestyle would allow me to freely move around and spend more time exploring and learning things of interest. Less time would be spent trying to pay expenses and care for material possessions (storage, maintenance, etc.).

I've always wondered what the purpose of life was and the reason for my existence. If you asked my dad, he would tell you that I was asking those questions when I was five years old. While my dad always seemed to have answers to my questions, they never satisfied me (which my dad agrees is a good thing). I believe we each need to find our own purpose and blaze our own trail through life. No one can give us a map or an instruction manual (and if they try, beware!).

Earlier this year I came to the conclusion that finding my purpose would be much easier if I had less material stuff cluttering and clouding my world. At the very least, having less stuff would give me more freedom and less to worry about (a feeling I got a taste of when my three houses were foreclosed on and I no longer had to worry about maintaining them).

So I've decided to change my lifestyle and transition to a more nomadic one. I've begun selling or giving away all my remaining possessions, a process that will continue for the next few months. I've found a cheap room to rent that's close to work and I'm living with roommates for the first time in my life, something my highly individualistic personality has always been opposed to. My end-of-the-year goal is to be living with only the stuff I can carry on my back. Even my pickup truck will eventually go (that will be the last page in this closing chapter).

The direction I'm headed in the next chapter is almost exactly where I envisioned myself being in ten years nearly a decade ago (perhaps even longer). But none of it was planned. Everything just sort of fell into place, the same way the tires on your car propel you forward without you fully understanding exactly how pressure from your foot translates into moving several tons of metal. It's a strange feeling; to know you always had an idea of where you wanted to be and somehow, through all the possible things that could have happened, you're ending up there.

There were so many decisions I made that ended up not working out for one reason or another (investments, relationships, business plans, etc.), and those unexpectedly resulted in my life being pushed closer and closer to the path I'm now on. Even though I never knew how it would happen, I also never lost sight of the direction I wanted my life to go. Now I can clearly see myself headed there. 🙂

What I've been doing away from the computer

I have spent less time in front of my laptop this month than any month in recent memory. My suddenly infrequent blog posts have been a direct side effect of that (with the exception of the first month, this month has seen the fewest number of posts since I started regularly blogging in 2006).

So what have I been doing away from the computer? Mostly reading, enjoying the outdoors (badminton, swimming), practicing piano, and of course selling stuff. As you may have heard me mention recently, I'm transitioning to a mobile lifestyle and part of that means selling basically anything I can't carry on my back. I'll go into more detail about what all that means in a future post.

Another big thing that's happening this month is that I'm moving back to the city, to room in Somerville where I will be living with a few roommates (it will be my first time living with roommates). Nearly all my free time this month has been spent selling stuff on CraigsList and sorting through boxes and boxes of paperwork and other "stuff" that I have collected over the past decade.

Once I have settled into my new place in Somerville (moving in August 1st) I should be left with a good amount of time to get back into writing. In fact, I anticipate having so much free time for writing that I plan to start up a new blog based around my new lifestyle. Stay tuned. 😀