An old friend of a friend died recently—someone I’d never met. But in marking his life, with a memorial of photos and shared memories among his family and friends, I got to know him enough to be inspired.
What a life.
Here is a guy who sailed across the Atlantic in an historic schooner, with Greenpeace. It took something like 27 days. He lived on the legendary Farm in Tennessee (yes, that Farm, the intentional community founded by Stephen and Ina May Gaskin), hiked the snow-capped mountains of Chile, and spent his last years growing acres of lush fruit trees and organic vegetables in that country. He was a craftsman and an adventurer, someone who lived life to the fullest.
I told my son, Tyler, about him, told him how I was inspired to reach beyond the comfort of another predictable day to consider the opportunities for adventure and risk that might come my way – to think outside the box. Tyler hardly needs to hear this tale—at age 20, he has lived it already, having spent two months on an organic farm in Costa Rica, ridden his bike across country and backpacked through Europe. He’s just returned from 10 days on the Appalachian Trail with 15 14-year-olds.
Similarly, his sister, Clara, just 18, has plunged into the mountains of El Salvador to build latrines in a sweltering jungle for an ecotourism site. At age 16, she flew by herself to New Orleans and joined a work crew painting apartments for hurricane victims and repairing anti-erosion fences for sand dunes. This month she moved to rural western Virginia, where she knows no one her own age, to nanny for month.
But embracing life happens on a smaller scale as well.
Like one recent weekday morning, when I roll my bike out of the shed, ready to ride the five minutes to the Metro station, then board the air-conditioned train into the city for work. With all the other worker drones. It seems too predictable. So instead of doing the expected, I go back into the house, change into bike shorts, and ride the 40 minutes all the way in to the office. A small choice – but it feels as though I’m getting away with something, taking a mini-vacation on my way to work.
On my ride, I pass the Dance Place, a center for classes and performances founded by another risk-taking innovator. An adventure when visionary founder Carla Perlo first purchased the building on a then-dicey street in Brookland in the early 1980s, it’s recently expanded to include a newly erected complex of studio, gallery, performance and rehearsal space with affordable apartments for artists and their families. Brilliant.
My ride also takes me past an older woman bent over a bright orange, five-gallon bucket in her front yard, watering the tomatoes she’s planted in it. No garden space? Innovate. I pass an old man slowly crossing a busy city street with his cane, trusting that cars will stop for him—a small but important act of faith. Like the one I’d witnessed before I’d left my house that morning: one of my friendliest neighbors, recovering from too many physical challenges for me to track, has taken his own cane and ventured all the way around our block. At my house, he stops long enough for a good chat and a bit of a rest before finishing his trek.
All of it is inspiring. Carpe Diem. Whatever the Diem may be.
What a life.
Here is a guy who sailed across the Atlantic in an historic schooner, with Greenpeace. It took something like 27 days. He lived on the legendary Farm in Tennessee (yes, that Farm, the intentional community founded by Stephen and Ina May Gaskin), hiked the snow-capped mountains of Chile, and spent his last years growing acres of lush fruit trees and organic vegetables in that country. He was a craftsman and an adventurer, someone who lived life to the fullest.
I told my son, Tyler, about him, told him how I was inspired to reach beyond the comfort of another predictable day to consider the opportunities for adventure and risk that might come my way – to think outside the box. Tyler hardly needs to hear this tale—at age 20, he has lived it already, having spent two months on an organic farm in Costa Rica, ridden his bike across country and backpacked through Europe. He’s just returned from 10 days on the Appalachian Trail with 15 14-year-olds.
Similarly, his sister, Clara, just 18, has plunged into the mountains of El Salvador to build latrines in a sweltering jungle for an ecotourism site. At age 16, she flew by herself to New Orleans and joined a work crew painting apartments for hurricane victims and repairing anti-erosion fences for sand dunes. This month she moved to rural western Virginia, where she knows no one her own age, to nanny for month.
But embracing life happens on a smaller scale as well.
Like one recent weekday morning, when I roll my bike out of the shed, ready to ride the five minutes to the Metro station, then board the air-conditioned train into the city for work. With all the other worker drones. It seems too predictable. So instead of doing the expected, I go back into the house, change into bike shorts, and ride the 40 minutes all the way in to the office. A small choice – but it feels as though I’m getting away with something, taking a mini-vacation on my way to work.
On my ride, I pass the Dance Place, a center for classes and performances founded by another risk-taking innovator. An adventure when visionary founder Carla Perlo first purchased the building on a then-dicey street in Brookland in the early 1980s, it’s recently expanded to include a newly erected complex of studio, gallery, performance and rehearsal space with affordable apartments for artists and their families. Brilliant.
My ride also takes me past an older woman bent over a bright orange, five-gallon bucket in her front yard, watering the tomatoes she’s planted in it. No garden space? Innovate. I pass an old man slowly crossing a busy city street with his cane, trusting that cars will stop for him—a small but important act of faith. Like the one I’d witnessed before I’d left my house that morning: one of my friendliest neighbors, recovering from too many physical challenges for me to track, has taken his own cane and ventured all the way around our block. At my house, he stops long enough for a good chat and a bit of a rest before finishing his trek.
All of it is inspiring. Carpe Diem. Whatever the Diem may be.
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