One of those weeks that comes right after a prior one of those weeks?
And that prior week came right after another one of those weeks right before it?
I'm having three of those weeks.
I'll be back soon. In the meantime, enjoy this picture of a bomb-ass starfish.
After I started Limes, I thought the video would be a great thing to post. But I couldn't remember who created it or what it was called. Googling "awesome black guy, busted up house, optimism" didn't pan out.
Today, finally, I came across it again on facebook. So here it is. I really think you should watch it.
Leah Dawson, the filmmaker and co-star of this short video, provides a happy glimpse into the relationship she has with her old-school single fin surfboard named Peanut Butter.
Although I don't get too hung up on possessions, I have a similar relationship with the following:
The video ends with the words "Ride with love." I couldn't agree more.
Instead, I'm sitting in a Midwest coffee shop, 851 feet above sea level, watching another greasy winter rain goopify what little snow we've had this year.
I know there are people freediving technicolor reefs this very second. I know there are people riding hidden glades of powder. I know these things because I can see them from my rigid chair. I can see every one of their posts and boasts and aprés toasts. Based on their social feeds, it seems they're having a gangbuster time. And they really want me to know about it. Bastards.
But I know something they don't.
Read MoreThe song "You'll Never Surf Again" always killed me. It's from Dan Reeder's 2006 album Sweetheart. Well, I just now stumbled across this animation by Paul Ferraris which only adds to the poignancy.
You know there's doctors conspiring against us right now. Plotting and planning all the stuff they're going to one day tell us we'll never do again.
That day isn't today.
Regardless of exactly where I'm headed, or exactly why, when I'm around the sea it just feels like I'm going to get some serious stuff figured out. And every time I'm on my way home? It feels like I did get some serious stuff figured out.
Well, this past weekend I flipped through a few of my old trip journals, looking for some of that wisdom. Perhaps a profound passage on What It All Means. Or at least an insightful bon mot that I could photograph and post on instagram in my brazen attempt to increase the Bring Limes Instagram following.
But.
Read MoreIt's that thinkin' about St. Somewhere time. That wanting-some-white-beaches-and-blue-water-and-yellow-birds-all-around-me-time. (I'm referring to the yellow bird cocktail here. But actual yellow birds are encouraged to join me.)
Well, the short video below isn't about any of that. While the water is blue, it's more of a gun metal blue. This is a cold place. There's shivering. And yet. I'm left longing for this water as if it was the sea-foamiest of seas.
Filmmaker (and swimmer) Natasha Brooks has me seriously jonesing for a dip of the skinny variety. A cold naked swim, sleek and slippery. Of course, where I'm from, most of our swims are on the chilly side. Get to the shoulder seasons here and it's cold enough to pretty much guarantee you'll have the water to yourself. I like that.
As Natasha says in the video: "The sensation of that cold, on every part of your body, eclipses all thoughts. You leave everything behind, and it offers you the space to truly appreciate the moment."
That's absolutely true. And this is absolutely beautiful. Watch.
I'm talking about using your brain. Your sense of imagination. Your sense of playfulness and resourcefulness and fun.
That's what Londoner Rich McCor does on Instagram. Smile-for-smile his account might be my favorite right now. It's the perfect testament to what skewing your perspective can do for you (also helpful: crazy scissor skills).
He and his work (his play?) are no secret since he's been featured on CNN, among other places. His Instagram following is currently at 117,000. The Kardashian/Jenner family is over 180 million. Help right the world by following Rich McCor instead. He'll make you happy. You'll see.
When I unpack my clothes and they’re covered in dog hair, I'll usually just let it ride. Occasionally though, you gotta be on point. Luckily, all airline travelers have a lint roller at the ready. Just pull the airline baggage tag from your suitcase, wrap it around your hand sticky-side out, and roll away.
Read MoreBen Harris built this beautiful boat entirely by hand. This four-minute portrait is a beautiful look at the work and the reward of doing so.
As for me, I'm planning to build a Dark 'N' Stormy later this afternoon. I intend to apply the same love and care to the project.
You did too. (Yes you did, I thought it through: You read therefore you am.)
This is an incredible thing, waking up every day. It's a cosmic mulligan – a daily do-over or, if you really rang the bell the day before, it's a hey-you-get-to-do-it-again-ya-lucky-bastard! Either way, the chance to start each day anew is a miracle. Sadly, it's one we take almost entirely for granted. (Unless you count all those inspirational instagram quotes which are set in a fun font and superimposed over sunrise photos. P.S. Don't count those.)
Whether we appreciate it or not, waking up every day is gift.
Now I have to admit... Exactly How we wake up in the morning I have no idea. I suspect a blend of physiological whatnot, science things, etc.
Why we wake up in the morning? There are days I'm not too sure about this one either. But I'm working on it. We all are.
Which brings us to If we wake up in the morning. This is where things get real. Extremely real. Because the fact of the matter is this: While we wake up most days, there's also a day we don't.
Read More
I'm glad I'm doing it, this I know. I'll be honest though, I'm still not sure why I'm doing it.
I'm hoping to get that figured out in 2016. I'm hoping to get a lot of things figured out in 2016 actually: the appeal of kombucha, the proper use of semi-colons, ukulele chords that require more than two fingers, etc.
But back to why. Why Bring Limes? I wonder sometimes. And then I discover something like "The Important Places" by Forest Woodward and Gnarly Bay. It all becomes clear.
I didn't make this video. But I feel it. I don't know these dudes, the father nor the son. But I know their story. Deeply. And I want to share it. And I want to add my own chapters. This is why.
Oh I was happy! Hiking through the subtropical bush in St. Croix, searching for the ruins of an old mill. I ended up finding it, which was great. But I also found a gorgeous kapok tree. So big! And perfectly smooth. The kapok is the hairless cat of trees.
Without hesitation, I threw down my pack and began to climb. Why? Because I was on a faraway adventure and when I'm in faraway adventure mode, I'm a man of uncontainable whimsy and joy. That's why.
Now fast forward seven weeks. I'm standing on my patio waiting for the grill to heat up. I've been thinking about doing something with the yard next spring which had me looking up into the trees. And son of a bitch! Standing not 20 feet from me is the perfect climbing tree: a finely crowned silver maple with limbs in all the right places. My kids have climbed this tree many times. And okay, I did once as well. But for the most part, I've been walking past this tree several times a day for the past decade.
Why? Because at home I'm not in faraway adventure mode. I'm in go-get-some-salt-for-the-water-softener mode. These are two distinctly different modes.
I'm planning to change that in the upcoming year though. Regardless of my GPS coordinates, I'm going to try to approach my days with a sense of play; a sense of adventure, scaled appropriately if need be. I realize everyone says this on their way back from every single vacation they've ever taken. Myself included.
But I'm not on my way back from a vacation today. I'm at home in regular-life mode. This morning I was looking out the window and thinking about the impossibility of another gloomy December day. I considered getting a few things done in the basement. Because obviously, it's not tree-climbing weather.
I have to say, though, getting into the upper section of the tree was easier than I expected.
It's just getting up onto that first limb that's the tricky part.
Bring Limes is dedicated to beaches, bonfires, vagabonds, and doing what you love.
