DM’s Triumph

It is an hour after Thanksgiving dinner.

Family traditions throttle the pace of any high holiday ? national or religious.

I am currently throttling my 13 year-old nephew on the nearest basketball court in a post-turkey dinner game of HORSE.

In my family, you won every contest against an adult until you were a certain age. The victories may have been assured, but every adult made in feel authentic. They would wince under the weight of the child’s crushing strategic genius on a game board, cry tears of frustration as the little one dribbles a soccer ball mercilessly or yet another goal, and howl under the pain of the kid’s wrestling

I can still remember thinking:

I am clearly a genius!

I am an unstoppable force of nature in mind and body – the worlds of both Checkers, soccer and wrestling never witnessed such brilliance until the beginning of my reign.

And so we launch you out into the world with the notion you are unstoppable.

This Golden Era of your Life lasts until you are about 4 and half ? maybe 5.

Then

? and perhaps it is the lingering influence of the Catholic Church or the immigrant experience or simply a desire not to raise spoiled brats ?

The Adults in the family crush the kids in every possible contest that occurs.

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Rockin’ The House

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I am 20 and playing lead guitar.

 

I am by far the worst musician in the band.

 

They likely would have been a house-hold name if they had not been saddled with me.

 

We played together for a year, and thank god You Tube had not been invented – my children would not survive the embarrassment.

 

BUT

 

There was this one gig. We were wedged between two head banging acts – but the crowd had a few friendly faces

 

And out there.

 

for one night

 

we rocked the house.

 

And I was a rock-n-roller

 

Or at least that was my experience of it.

 

27 years later I am on Grace Farms.

 

We are throwing a party

– a dinner

– an event.

 

I am  Рby far ? the least important person in the execution of

 

I safely report to you: we rocked the house.

 

Seriously.

 

It was awesome.

The Best Three Minutes of Your Day

Heroic Dips***

“Don’t talk to Pete. He is a dipshit.”

In another era of my professional life, I read this love-note on an e-mail from a disgruntled client to her boss. I am unsure whether I was copied intentionally ? but I am sure it gave her a certain amount of pleasure that I got to read what she thought of me.

At that time of my life, I was part of an international sales-force of a company that did business on 5 continents.

And a month before I am called a dipshit ?

I was celebrated

as the highest performing sales-person

Among hundreds of sales people around the globe.

In fact, they give me a bunch of money and big, fat prize

for being so great.

The Divine likes to remind me:

The distance between hero and dipshit is the length of time it takes to read a two-sentence e-mail.

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The Unlikely Is Not The Imposible

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Somewhere in the mid- 1960’s he is in the 10th grade and doing a handstand on the top rails of the Empire State Buildings observation deck.

Some volunteer parent looking after the high school kids take one look and faint dead-away.

An unfortunate gust of wind sends him tumbling like a fall leaf.

But it didn’t and the story lives on in family infamy.

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The Gospel of Doubt

It goes without saying:

I do not know what I am doing.

I killed all the tilapia in my aquaponics farm because I misunderstood how to keep them healthy.

30 chickens on the farm died because I built a substandard chicken coop that some average coyote easily penetrated.

I am not a famer

Yet I farm.

There are people in my life that want me to focus. To do one thing and do that thing with excellence.

But I have lived with the keen awareness of my death since I was 12.

I don’t fear it.

When I go, I want to be satisfied with my courage to have done my best and to have seen what was possible with my life.

There are seasons of plenty in our lives. Seasons where your actions align with just the right needs of the moment and your imagination blooms in the world vibrantly.

I am not in one of these seasons.

The Best Three Minutes of Your Day

Bee Careful

I am in no danger of becoming an expert.

In Anything.

She is calling me because she wants me to be safe.

I want to pick-up to tell her I am safe.

However, I am standing on a ladder

In a bee suit ?

which

If I knocked on your door wearing this bee suit

You would think I was there to clean the Ebola virus out of your carpets.

I am wearing leather gloves ? giant ones.

They look like I should be handling glowing red bars to be smashed on some anvil

And my hands are roughly the size of the average 3 grade girl

Which makes my ability to do anything but the most blunt work

Basically impossible.

I have been getting reliable texts from the man who is my mentor when it comes to beekeeping.

But the phone is ringing persistently in the pocket of my bee suit from my future wife.

Competing with the phone is the sound of the biggest bee swarm I had ever had my face nose deep in.

I can say this with confidence

Because it was the first bee swarm I ever tried to rescue

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46, 47

https://castbox.fm/episode/46%2C-47-id334572-id50603369?country=us

Somewhere in the development of the human species we learned to use tools. There is a great scene in the move 2001: A Space Odyssey that imagines the moment when our primordial ancestors learned to use a hammer.

In my development as a farmer on Grace Farms, I have somehow regressed to just before the point in time when human beings learned to use tools.

In trying to authentically develop a place where food can be grown,

my enthusiasm for avoiding contamination of any kind

created a sort of blindness to my own stupidity in how I am accomplishing simple tasks.

A good friend of mine ? who works with me on the farm ? illustrated this by showing how a project that had taken me 9 hours could be completed in 30 minutes.

What felt virtuous just minutes before his tutorial on using tools ? immediately became evidence of my stubborn habit of taking the long, hard way to learning my lessons.

The Best Three Minutes of Your Day