It’s been an honor. I’m looking forward to next time!

Nice going, guys!

REALLY looking forward to next week.

I’m sorry that we didn’t record the song that Teena and Teri wrote for the class, though; if I can get the audio from that, I’ll be sure to post it here.

That said, after we turned off the recorder, there was about 15 minutes of excellent discussion that I wish we’d captured. If anyone took notes from that part of the evening, I’d love it if they would share them with me.

Great stuff, gang.

Thanks!

Special thanks to everyone who was there for the first night. I really think we’re going to have a great time.

It’s been proven that there is no such thing as multitasking. You can do exactly one thing at a time. Some folks are pretty good at switching gears back and forth, and give the appearance that they’re doing more than that, but it’s a sham. And being in a state of constant interruption takes its toll. When you try to do two things at once, the quality of your work isn’t halved. Because of the overhead involved, it’s probably quartered or worse. So what’s the point?

I hate to say it, but if it’s true in your cubicle, it’s true in life. I think that one huge reason a lot of people don’t feel like they’re getting anywhere in life is that they’re trying to go in two directions at once. This duality can be expressed in all the typical ways, such as when folks try to balance work and family, but I think the roots are deeper than that in truth. I think there’s a cultural imperative to divorce the head and heart, the inner calling and outer practice and so on that can really get us in trouble. In our post-Calvinist society there’s some value placed on one’s ability to keep a lot of conflicting plates spinning; evidently ulcers are the sure path to heaven. But in the meantime life can feel a lot like hell. It may be that the ability to hold contradictory belief systems in mind is a hallmark of a sophisticated intellect, but it’s also limiting and destructive. And people see through the hypocrisy anyhow. Do you feel torn between what you have to do and what you want to do, between what you feel obligated to do and what you know you ought to do? Do you know better? Me too. I’m working on this one myself. I, like a lot of people, spend a fair amount of time fantasizing about being able to do what I want to do without having to sell one of my kids on eBay to make ends meet. Everybody knows that you can’t serve two masters.

But Bob Dylan was right. You DO have to serve somebody. Every moment, through every thought and word and action, we are creating our experience. This is in big ways and small, in good ways and in bad. We can choose to eat another Twinkie even though we know what we look like in chinos. We can choose to walk away from a promising situation because our hearts tell us to move on, and in so doing not only change everything about our experience but along the way maybe inspire somebody else to find freedom. Your life, my life, the world we all live in is made up of the fruits of every decision we make in every moment. And for this reason the real enemy isn’t some evil power –there’s no bad guy in this story– it’s when we waste our time and attention. So that job, that relationship, that conversation going on right now: is it a vote for a world you want to live in, or is it just more of the same. In other words, is there a point?

There are a lot of excellent and accurate definitions of love, but I think my favorite one is a paraphrase from Charles Fillmore: Love, in the highest sense, is the idea of universal unity. In other words, when you love something, what you’re feeling and thinking is a kind of oneness, not just between subject and object, but also between you, it, and something greater. And the reason why love makes the world go ’round and conquers all and is a many splendored thing, not to mention being all you need, is that that level of intense focus refuses to see anything but the highest and best in all involved. Seeing with those eyes is a creative act; over time, it brings out what it beholds.

I’m not saying that we need to give out hugs at the airport, and I’m not pretending that everything on the news is fun to watch. There’s still a lot of work to be done, and a lot of things to overcome. And these things run the gamut of emotions from frustrating and annoying to heartbreaking and soul-crushing. But here’s what I’m learning: Bullshit, not being true, has no power in and of itself. The only strength it has is what we give it through the power of our focus and creative attention. The moment we take our ball and go home, the instant we choose not to give any more power to something we know better about, it ceases to be our master.

You can do exactly one thing at a time. So let’s get to the point where we’re doing, saying, and thinking about growth. Let’s get to where we insist on what we know to be true — not just on weekends, not just after 5:00, and not just when we know we’re around “safe” people. We need less dabbling dilettantes and more bulldog believers. And I’ll be honest with you here; this is something I’m still working on myself. But I DO know that it works when I work it, and my life is awesome to the degree that I keep my eyes on the prize.

I’ve never been a Boy Scout, and I have a deeply-ingrained aversion to ickiness, but I’ve seen enough episodes of Survivorman to know that these things can be overcome. I was proud of how well we set up our campsite and happy to tell anyone who would listen that I can light a campfire with one spark from my trusty flint and steel. I’m proud of the fact that I HAVE a trusty flint and steel.

More than anything, though, it gave me a great deal of pleasure to see how simply we could live. I love the idea that everything one needs to survive can be contained in a knapsack. I’ve always been (or at least wanted to be) something of a minimalist, and I think that the necessary renunciation that camping imposes is absolutely liberating. Not only is there only so much room in the car, but every park ranger knows you have to get rid of your trash or the bears will do it for you.

I know that some of that is probably fear-based, that keeping possessions limited to what one can clutch tightly to one’s person is a limiting way to go, but I think there’s more to it than materialism. I don’t think that Bobby McGee’s point was just that nobody can take your stuff if it fits in the glove compartment. I’ve found that the amount of fun you can have is inversely proportional to the amount of junk you have to deal with.

Hikers walking by our camp saw a tiny car, a simple tent, and a nice campfire. This is what I’d expected to see at every campsite in the park, and so I was more than a little surprised when I saw the miniature lollapalooza impressions being performed by each of my neighbors. Everybody had multiple tents, a television set, and numerous grilling appliances. I would not have been surprised to see bedroom furniture. Not only did this offend my refined sensibilities (after all, at this point I’d been a real camper for well over an hour) but I could not for the life of me figure out how that experience could be thought of as fun. Nobody likes moving. I’ve never seen anybody driving a U-Haul with a smile on their face. So why do it just for the weekend?

But then again some folks are doing that with their lives all week long. There’s a cultural response to the unknown or the scary that involves acquisition. People feel afraid or worried and protect themselves with a cocoon of whatever was available at Wal-Mart. But that doesn’t solve anything, naturally, and so the cycle continues. And intensifies. At that point we have a choice: get more stuff, a bigger car, and a monthly rental at a U-Stor-It, or take a left turn and point the Hummer at the nearest Goodwill. In general, if you’re unhappy, I’ll bet you have too much crap.

This is a great rule of thumb across the board, but I think it’s especially helpful to remember when you’re trying to improve your life. You and I know what it feels like to have a “normal” life with “normal” goals, and the fact that you’re reading this tells me that we’ve both experienced how pointless and even painful quiet desperation can be. But, whether it comes from a seeming catastrophe, a moment of revolution, or simply the desire to do and be a little less boring, the first feeling most folks experience when they decide to wake up and start figuring out what it means to live life is one of absolute joy.

But then, after the smoke clears and the soundtrack fades, it’s not uncommon for people to feel worse —more torn up, more up in the air, more uncertain— then they did before. There are all kinds of explanations for this; you’re in unknown territory, you’re flexing muscles you’ve never used before, there is a new level of accountability and things to learn. But the simplest and best answer is that you’ve got too much crap. There’s a dangerous chemical reaction that can happen when one or two good ideas get thrown into the pot with a lifetime of lousy ones.

But the good news is that the solution is simple. You have too much crap. We’ve talked about this before, but it bears repetition. I think the key to a fulfilling life is traveling light. Let’s beat the metaphor to death. If you feel tired, frustrated, or bored, if there are blisters on your understanding, you’re carrying too much in your pack. What can you get rid of today? What’s not true about you any more? What do you no longer wish to identify with? What’s weighing you down? What can you throw in the campfire? Take out the garbage, or the bears will eat your ass.