Garden Simplicity

I don’t want to get all Martha Stewart on you guys, but I’m actually getting attached to the garden in my building. There is something about the color of the flowers and the texture of the leaves that instills in me an incredible amount of peace. It’s during these times that I regret not having a permanent place of my own where I could have my own personal garden.

I know next to nothing about gardening. The truth is that every plant I have ever had has suffered a slow, painful death under my care. There was the small potted plant on my desk in college that ended up in the garbage after 3 weeks. Another 3-4 plants died mysteriously when my folks left the country and left me in charge. And let’s not even get into the time I tried to grow spices in my apartment in NYC.
I never really understood the roots of my plant murder spree. Maybe I just wasn’t all that conscientious about watering them properly. Or maybe the cause is deeper. Maybe my plants died because I never really understood them.

After spending weeks walking by this garden I’ve noticed things that, while obvious to those who love plants and flowers, came as an absolute shock to me: plants are living, breathing, miracles of nature. Their growth and shape is determined by the contours of their surroundings. They react to sunlight, cold, warmth and rain. You can casually spot a flower bud in the morning and come home to see a beautiful fully-grown flower. Plants MOVE during the day.

Plants are ALIVE.

Marijuana Simplicity

[image: http://www.tampabaycriminaldefenselawyerblog.com/Marijuana-Poster.jpg]

I don't think I'd be exaggerating if I were to admit that I was one of the biggest potheads in college. It's true. I had tried weed on and off back in high school but it wasn't until my crazy, sex/beer-filled freshman year that I fell in love with the pure, mellow joys of marijuana

My routine at the time was pretty simple: for each lecture/seminar I would only attend the very first class in order to pick up the syllabus and course schedule, and thereafter only show up for quizzes, midterms, and finals. Aside from a massive 2-week cramming session at the end of each semester, I had virtually the entire academic year to hang out with buddies, be with my girfriend(s?) and, or course, smoke some bud.

I only had one rule: I could smoke as much as I wanted so long as I got As in all my classes. (The irony is that the more I smoked, the easier it was to get those As. Go figure.)


And then came law school and the sudden realization that I was entering a profession with legit rules of ethics and professional responsibility. By that point, weed had lost its luster. Inhaling smoke, of any kind, seemed like an unbelievably stupid thing to do. The spiritual component that had originally drawn me to marijuana had long since been replaced by an urge to party. Suddenly, it made sense to hang up my bong.

POSTSCRIPT
Years later, bathed in the light of my trusty laptop, I take a long, smooth drag from a makeshift bong made from an aluminum can. The taste is still sweet. I just want to feel pure and mellow one last time.

Yoga and Meditation are Awesome

[image:http://www.yogameditation.com/var/corporate/storage/images/english/haaaa_international_course_center/fotogallerie/meditation/meditation__5/21331-1-nor-NO/meditation_image_400_w.jpg]

I just had an awesome Yoga-guided meditation session! I just can’t believe I ever lived my life without yoga and meditation. They have become a a part of me in ways that I could not have imagined a year ago.

Definitely encourage everyone to take a couple of yoga classes just to see what it’s all about. Those of you curious about meditation can start in the privacy of your own home. I highly recommend the online podcasts run by the Insight Meditation Community featuring Tara Brach. She has a wonderful gift for guided meditation.

Take care everyone,

Jack

Dancing Update

[Photo: ellowcitizensmusic.com]

It has been a relaxing couple of weeks. Nothing like some sun and more than just a few beers to relax the mind and reenergize the spirit.

Now that I´m back from vacation, I can now turn to several things that have been bugging me recently. Top of my list is how I´m doing on the dance floor.

Frankly, this whole learning how to dance thing is not going well. I JUST DON’T GET RHYTHM. Let me rephrase…I can generally hear the rhythm in a piece of music and can even clap the rhythm out for a bit. But I´m screwed when it comes to applying rhythm on the dance floor. You have no idea how stressful my lessons have become. I feel bad that I´m not advancing as fast as I should be. I am constantly apologizing to my teacher for taking so long to get the basics. I am always watching the clock, hoping that the hour passes as quickly as possible. In short, I´m really not having any fun.

But, hey, nothing worthwhile is ever easy. I´m going to take another shot at this thing with a new attitude. Maybe I´m putting too much stress on myself. The point, after all, IS to have some fun and learn the basics at my own pace. I´ll let you know how it goes.

Dancing Simplicity

There is no reason to deny it: I dance like a douchebag.

Seriously. Force me onto a dance floor after 3 beers or so and you might actually see something like this:




Well, I've had enough. It's time to slay my inner dancing douche. Starting today, Jack is officially a student at a dance studio. That's right. Over the next 3 months I will work to master the basic ballroom dances (waltz, foxtrot, tango...etc), something that will hopefully prepare me for some of the more modern stuff.

I'm actually excited about this. Dancing is not exactly something I enjoy. But there is a great deal of freedom in learning how to do something I've always found unapproachable and totally beyond my control. I'm not sure I would have had the time, the patience, or even the inclination to do this before leaving Biglaw. Just goes to show how a change in perspective can lead to unexpected places.

Wine Simplicity

As I struggle to adapt to life off the road, I am finding myself slowly but deliberately seduced by the simple pleasures flowing in abundance here in Sonoma, California. These past several days have been filled with warm sunshine, the laughter of friends, and an endless supply of Pinot, Chardonnay, and Cabernet. Not to mention some pairing essentials: crackers, salame, fruit, cheese, chocolate, salmon, preserves, olives, etc...



For a recovering yuppie who has gone to his share of wine tastings and still barely knows the difference between Merlot and Cabernet, Sonoma has been a revelation.

Spring Simplicity

As the days get longer and the grasses grow greener I’m becoming more and more aware of my own mortality. The chill of winter has given way to glorious sunshine, budding trees, and a yearning for more.


Renewal is in the air and I am embracing it like never before.

I’ve made a decision. It terrifies me, even as it exhilarates me. More to follow.

Meditation Simplicity

[Photo: graciousliving.ca]

Ok, I confess. Not only have I started attending yoga on a semi-regular basis but I’ve just come back from a meditation class as well. I shudder to think what the Jack of 2007 would think of the Jack of 2009…

Kudos to Tara and the Insight Meditation Community of Washington. The atmosphere was inviting and absolutely conducive to getting a better understanding of meditation as a life-long activity. I know almost nothing about Buddhism or meditation but that did not stop me from enjoying the process itself. While I admit that I nodded off a couple of times during the 30 minute guided meditation period, I can honestly say that I will probably come back for more.

I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something is definitely happening to me. Maybe it’s just curiosity; I’ve been so contemptuous of so many things for so long that it’s fun trying out certain things just to confirm how judgmental I’ve actually been. Or maybe the very act of embracing simple living allows a person to more easily reject existing paradigms and take a chance with the unknown.

Whatever it is, one thing is certain. Right now, there are no boundaries in my life. There are no judgments. Nothing is sacred. Nothing is closed. Whatever paradigms I embraced before are now permeable. Most important of all, nothing can be taken for granted.

Yoga Simplicity

[Photo: artmedia.com]

One word: unexpected.

I don’t quite understand how it happened but suddenly I’m interested in all sorts of things that would have made me roll my eyes only a year ago. Seriously. There I was this past weekend, sheepishly opening the door to my neighborhood yoga studio and wondering whether my dad was rolling over in his grave. “Geesh Jack, I can’t believe you are being such a fucking fag,” he would have said.

Ok, the fact that I was THE ONLY DUDE there wasn’t all that encouraging. But hey, I sort of dug it. The first part of the class was actually pretty intense. If you read this blog regularly you know that I’m really into weight training so I was pretty surprised when some of those yoga poses totally kicked my ass!

The second part of the class was incredibly relaxing. For several minutes, I was floating in a celestial ether, far from distractions and complications. It was as if there was nothing left but my thoughts. And these were pure and simple.

Book Simplicity

[Photo: tempe.gov]

I was all set to do a post about books that encourage and/or inspire simplicity until I realized that aimee over at Cage Free Family sort of beat me to it. Here is select list of some of the stuff people suggested on her blog:

*Real Food, Nina Planak

*How Far to Follow? The Martyrs of Atlas, Bernardo Olivera

*Little Women, Louisa May Alcott

*Like Water For Chocolate

*Fifth Sacred Thing, Starhawk

*The Four Agreements, Don Miguel Ruiz

*Outlander series, Diana Gabaldon

*Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Pirsig

*The Passion, Jeanette Winterson

*Autobiography of Red, Anne Carson

*Gilead, Marilyn Robinson

*The Contrary Farmer, Gene Logsdon

What about you, my dear reader? What books have comforted you during dark times; nourished your love for nature, family, and friends; guided you as you took that next step on your own personal journey?

I know that, at least for me, it is all about The Alchemist.

Biking Simplicity

[IMAGE DELETED BY AUTHOR]

[Yes, my dear reader, this is, in fact, the very first image of Jack posted on this blog]

I took advantage of a couple of cool, clear mornings to do some serious bike training this past weekend. By Sunday night I had ravaged the Mount Vernon trail, the Capital Crescent, and a good chunk of the Rock Creek trail. No way am I approaching the likes of Jill (Up in Alaska) or Nancy (Family on Bikes), but 83 miles isn’t too shabby.

There is something so elemental about bicycling. It is the most selfless way to see the world around you. There is no gasoline, no power steering, and no seat belts. You move forward as one should move through life: by sheer will and determination. Those who bicycle regularly always find a sweet, contagious rhythm that mere novices can scarcely understand. It’s a rhythm full of wind and sweat and rushing empty spaces. It is a rhythm I hope to never forget.

At one point on Saturday I ended up in Bethesda, which is apparently the third wealthiest neighborhood in the nation, behind Newport Beach and Greenwich, Connecticut. Seeing all the beautifully manicured families, trust-fund babies, and annoying yuppies made me think about my future.

Sure, I was (1) dripping with sweat; (2) wearing my 40-year-old-virgin nerd biking helmet; and (3) wearing biking shorts that screamed “seriously, I want you; no I NEED you to stare at my junk!!”

[IMAGE DELETED BY AUTHOR]

But as I walked through the streets of Bethesda no one batted one eyelid. I was, presumably, one of them. I wonder how I would be treated walking down this same street a year from now. Would I seem different? Would I act differently? Would it really matter?

As I made my way back home on my bike it all became very clear. Life was just too simple and beautiful for me to give a shit.

Flute Simplicity

I was biking around Georgetown the other day when I stumbled on Melchizea. He arrived in the area from Colorado a couple of weeks ago to attend a wedding in Maryland and had decided to stick around for a bit. He told me that he had been sleeping in a tent that he set up by the National Cathedral, but after about a week he had come back to find all his stuff gone. He was certain that one of the grounds people had picked it up but he did not feel comfortable confronting anyone about it.

What was amazing about Melchizea was that he seemed absolutely serene about his predicament. When I found him, he was playing a flute made out bamboo he had discovered on a bike trail in Maryland. His philosophy was that the universe has a plan for him and that his mission was to ‘listen’ closely to figure out what that plan entails.

Some of the most revealing things about Melchizea:

*He has started to make these nifty looking flutes out of that bamboo that apparently grows locally. Who knew!
*He told me that during his first week in DC he happened to meet an elementary school principal who invited him to come and speak to classes about his life, his travels and the meaning of happiness. He showed me a stack of letters kids wrote thanking him for his presentations. They were rolled into one of his flutes.

*He was actually at the Rainbow Gathering in Wyoming this past year. He had awesome stories to share.

I spent a good 20 minutes talking about how I was this self-hating yuppie who wanted to get rid of all his stuff so that he could lead a more meaningful life. He listened patiently, with a great deal of kindness. At some point, I had to move on so I said my goodbyes and without thinking about it gave him a $20 dollar donation. “See, the universe always provides,” he said as he handed me one of his flutes. “This flute will surely help you on your journey, and I can go and get a sandwich.”

Park Simplicity

As the days start to get shorter and dusk begins to sting my face with a slight northern chill I start to get very protective of what is left of summer. I feel as if my time to enjoy this life is limited and I must do everything possible to experience the beauty and simplicity around me.

Just the other day I spent an entire afternoon by myself at a gorgeous park in the middle of DC reconnecting with my inner 9-year old. I walked barefoot. I picked grass. I laid back and stared at the clouds above me. I smiled.

It was one of those days when you realize that however much you might yearn for a nice house, an expensive car and exotic vacations, what we are really searching for is the certainty and simplicity that only a 9-year-old would understand.

Canoing Simplicity

A friend and I had a chance to go canoing in the middle of the Potomac river recently. Sometime after 2 pm, we made our way over to a small little island right across from Georgetown. When we got out of the canoe everything made so much sense to me. The sun was brilliant, the water was calm, and my soul was at ease. Most of all, the Plan seemed within reach. Life was beautiful.

Movie Simplicity

I've always been amazed by the role movies have played in my life. Sure, I generally enjoy watching movies purely for their entertainment value. After all, who doesn’t love being transported to another time and another place where laughter, happiness, sadness and every other emotion under the sun is explored.

But there have been times when watching a movie has been a bona fide transformative experience for me. There have been times when, facing the deepest, darkest depressions of my life, a movie has brought a smile to my face. At other times, movies have completely changed my perception of the world. The bottom line is that if I really think about it, certain movies have actually been catalysts in my current quest for simplicity.

Thinking about this today I figured I would put together a short list of some of the movies that have pushed me into accepting the challenge of simplifying my life. Call them “inspirational simplicity films.”

A couple of things to note about the list below. First, this list is not meant to be comprehensive. I could probably come up with at least 20 movies under this category. Second, while I have found some kernel of knowledge in each and every one of these movies it’s not clear that everyone else will. People are different. Tastes differ. Having said that, feel free to tear me apart for watching a movie you feel truly sucks and/or is somehow unworthy of mention. Finally, including a movie in this list does not mean that I endorse a particular political point of view. A person can find genuine truth even in the most unexpected places:

Motorcycle Diaries

Born Into Brothels









Shawshank Redemption











Gattica











Blue





The Straight Story




Wrestling Earnest Hemingway

Drum Circle Simplicity

One of the most pure, authentic experiences that I’ve had in Washington DC has to be the drum circle that is held every Sunday in Meridian Hill Park. Picture dozens and dozens of people from all over, (young and old, black and white, American and foreign, rich and poor) just getting together for an afternoon to jam. This particular circle is imaginary (it’s more like a rectangle) but the rules are clear:

-do not enter the circle if you are not prepared to play something.

-if you don’t have an instrument to play with borrow one.

-if you have extra instruments you must share.

-if you can’t play an instrument someone will show you.

-if you are unwilling to play, you have to dance.

THIS PAST SUNDAY

It is still hot and muggy by the time I park my bike inside the park. I have the essentials in my backpack: a copy of Herodotus, wine, cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, tapenade, and crackers. As the afternoon gets longer, I am seduced by the wine, the women and the sounds of long, flowing drumbeats. The music howls at me like a cornered animal, always rough, ever vengeful, untamable. The large black man with the double drums maintains the beat long enough for a young Asian girl to find another. The rest of the circle follows. This is an animal with tentacles.

There is the disabled black girl, sitting in a wheelchair, beating a miniature drum, occasionally flashing a smile that is dry and lonely.

There is the young summer intern who closes her eyes often, confident that she can stave off adulthood for another year.

There is the card game guys. Some have prison tattoos, others wear Rolex watches.

There is the belly dancer. She moves like a rhythmic serpent, caressing sounds unseen.

In the end, for an afternoon as least, everything is simple and complete.

Summer Thunderstorms

There is something so essential about summer thunderstorms.

I remember back in college, during one of those tortuously delicious summers when most everyone was gone and the city felt like it was mine and mine alone. I was living with a bunch of guys in a dilapidated 3-story house somewhere off central campus. Between all the pot-smoking, the evening cookouts, and the beer-soaked laughter, there was always the summer rains. It was like an unspoken ritual for us; we would be drawn by air that was stung with the sweet smell of earth and lavender and by the sounds of distant thunder. We would sit on the porch of that dilapidated house on a couple of faded couches and watch the storms come in. In simple silence. The rain would soak the streets, the lighting would split the sky and the thunder would be violent and precious. And I was free.

I thought about those days yesterday. I had been biking all day around the national mall, stopping occasionally to read a copy of The Alchemist. I had read the book before, but given my renewed commitment to simplifying my life, the message of the book has taken on a whole new meaning. Before I knew it a storm had come in and I was completely soaked. Scampering to the back of the Jefferson Memorial, I watched bands of rain soaking the grass as tourists, like sheep, ran every-which way. I suddenly thought about those days in college, about the laughter of friends, and about the hushed silence of rain-soaked memories. Looking up at the darkened sky I calmly walked down the steps to the grass. The rain was warm and welcoming. And I was free again.