tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178749442024-03-14T08:41:17.986-07:00mydharma daysmusings from one who pondersTim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-84557041034767001072022-02-11T13:23:00.002-08:002022-02-11T13:31:29.962-08:00Livin' La Vida Playa - Part 1: Wait, We Are Living in Mexico?Sometimes in life, you actively create your future. You think about it, you plan for it, and you act to make it happen. <div><br /></div><div>Other times, your future kind of unfolds; due to unexpected circumstances, or to a string of situations that lead you to float instead of paddle down the current of Life. </div><div><br /></div><div>Living in Mexico was not something on my planned agenda. Although it has been on Rose's agenda for some time. She was actually hoping to live in Costa Rica during the winter of 2020, but COVID cut those ideas short. I confess that it was not my first option to go live abroad, even for a short period of time; not because I love Colorado winters (I don't), but because I am the person who is trying to get re-established back in to a career after years of being primarily a stay at home parent. The idea of temporarily living in Costa Rica was appealing, of course, but not at the expense of further prolonging my return to life outside of just parenting. </div><div><br /></div><div>But 2021 unfolded in an interesting and unexpected way. First, we put all of our stuff in storage at the end of May and traveled around the Pacific Northwest all summer. Then we returned to Colorado in September but decided to get a temporary living situation so that we could continue to travel a bit; back to Nebraska for Thanksgiving, then unexpectedly back again a week later because my father passed away, then two full weeks in Seattle for Christmas. </div><div><br /></div><div>A very good friend of mine, who lives in Playa del Carmen, floated the idea of us coming down in the January/February timeframe. Again, I was a little torn. Yes, I absolutely wanted to go, and yes, I wanted to stay in Boulder and get life rolling again. </div><div><br /></div><div>We agreed that we would take advantage of our current nomadic lifestyle to go for a couple of weeks, and then, on December 30th, an open space wildfire, fueled by 80+ mph winds, destroyed a part of Boulder county that we had lived in for almost three years. With our old neighborhood in ashes, or dealing with the consequence of all of those ashes, we decided that going to Mexico was our best option. </div><div><br /></div><div>So we did.
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Unlike a balmy vacation get-away, however, this was a "live and work in Mexico" trip, and our productivity has skyrocketed since being here because we have an amazing sitter/nanny who plays and hangs out with Taylor all day. Taylor also has kids from all over the world here in the condo complex to play with. It's not quite preschool, but it's a pretty amazing situation.
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I will go in to daily life here in Mexico in Part 2, but just some quick observations to whet your appetite: </div><div><br /></div><div>1) After wiping my bottom and putting the toilet paper in the toilet my whole life, you would think that putting the toilet paper in the trash can, rather than in the toilet (with not so great plumbing), would be difficult to remember. But honesty, it has been surprisingly easy to remember. It only took me about 36 hours to break the old habit. I am more concerned about what happens when I go back to the States. </div><div><br /></div><div>2) I don't think I will ever totally get used to the police pickup trucks with the roll bars on the back and the officers with machine guns standing in the back. Even though I see them driving around thirty to forty times a day. Likewise, distinguishing between the police in black uniforms vs the police/soliders in traditional fatigues vs the police/soldiers in gray/white fatigues, is a bit confusing. Sometimes they patrol 5th Avenue, sometimes they are walking down the beach. Sometimes they...well, let's save that for another story. </div><div><br /></div><div>3) Because so many people from around the world live in and visit Playa del Carmen, it is not "cheap" by Mexican standards. Most things are less expensive than in, say, Seattle, but not that much less expensive than in places like Omaha, or Des Moines. Additionally, the Mexican fare here (really, almost any cuisine) is "decent but not great." I have cooked 90% of our meals, but I do enjoy going out for the ambiance and experience.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbDvdQpi4ZEK6KEQaAHo0L9pEJ7KlrisjXmO4P6YwCPSr6ZowoAkDWizvYEkFs6NxFRGWWqMd9GUPLEVLb7JTBbUahXLsYRAtFag2gxU-hu0_2DkHS6JNBmAQZEbkpdodNkYOfmtF_TlKvMx5RRfpBxZZu2C-vL2bTdEkiuKEsG6zBt_nCSlU=s1440" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbDvdQpi4ZEK6KEQaAHo0L9pEJ7KlrisjXmO4P6YwCPSr6ZowoAkDWizvYEkFs6NxFRGWWqMd9GUPLEVLb7JTBbUahXLsYRAtFag2gxU-hu0_2DkHS6JNBmAQZEbkpdodNkYOfmtF_TlKvMx5RRfpBxZZu2C-vL2bTdEkiuKEsG6zBt_nCSlU=s320" width="320" /></a></div>
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So many more things to come. Stay tuned!
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</div>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-2730882788805442172020-04-03T07:26:00.001-07:002020-04-03T08:17:15.866-07:00The Next Turning of the Cooking Wheel: How a Pandemic Sparked More Cooking and Baking (And Not Just More Watching of the Food Network)I love cooking. This is no surprise to those who know me.<br />
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I think many people who love cooking tell stories of growing up in their mother's kitchen, watching her cut and chop and mix and season; taking in the sounds, the smells; embraced in the oven-induced warm comfort of all day baking projects. And then eventually being instructed, little by little, how to do it all themselves.<br />
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My first remembrance of cooking went a little differently.<br />
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I was nine or ten years old. Both of my parents worked, and like many kids in the 70s, the thought of cooking never really crossed my mind. One day, my mother was going to be late getting home from work, so she called me to tell me to get some meatloaf mixed and in the oven. She told me all of the ingredients to mix together in a bowl (I had no idea what Worcestershire sauce was), what pan to put it in, and what temperature to set the oven to.<br />
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It all went pretty smoothly until I realized that I couldn't mix it very well with a mixing spoon, so I called her back for guidance. "Just mix it with your hands," she said.<br />
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Excuse me?<br />
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I tried. I really did. But the moment my hand touched that cool, slippery, sloppy mess, I pulled it away, repulsed. There was no way I was going to do that.<br />
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But I also wasn't going to drop the ball on doing what I was told, so I went in to the hall closet and found a box of gloves that my mom used to dye her hair (or give herself permanents, I don't remember now). I slipped the gloves on, and presto! Now I could mix away without getting that gross concoction all over my hands. <br />
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I didn't know there was powder inside the gloves until I took them off. That created an unexpected mess, which may or may not have ended up somewhere in the meatloaf.<br />
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This could have been the start of my cooking adventure, but it wasn't. In fact, I didn't think much about cooking again until more than ten years later, when I was a junior in college.<br />
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My friend Brad had this idea that we should drive from Iowa down to Florida to visit his mom in Tampa for spring break. The trip itself was full of memorable tales, but most importantly, this was the true origin of my personal cooking story.<br />
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One day, before Brad and I headed out to do whatever was planned for the afternoon, Brad's mom's boyfriend, who was a chef of some type, asked us if linguine and clams sounded good for dinner. I had ever had that dish before, but it sounded intriguing and sophisticated (to a boy from the Midwest who had probably never eaten a clam before), so I was totally on board with the idea. When we returned that evening, he had everything set out and ready to go.<br />
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My curiosity had been building for hours, so I asked him if I could watch him cook it. He said, "Oh, I'm not cooking it. You are." A moment of fear crept over me, and I was worried that I would somehow ruin everyone's dinner. "Um, I don't know that I can do that," I sheepishly answered. "Sure you can, " he replied, "I will tell you exactly what to do." Then he grabbed a wine glass, poured himself a tall glass of white wine, and added, "Let's get a few things chopped up and then we'll turn on the electric skillet."<br />
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And that, my friends, was the awkward beginning of my love affair with cooking. <br />
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I mentioned the electric skillet, by the way, because for years I was convinced that I had to use one when making linguine with clams (technically, white clam sauce). I mean, I knew you could probably just use a stove top, but I had never made it that way before, so for a few years afterwards I continued to use an electric skillet; not just for linguine and clams, but for a number of other things as well. I liked knowing the "preciseness" of the temperature, as indicated on the dial. But finally, I weaned myself off of it, and I don't think I have used one since 1991. <br />
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What does this have to do with cooking and a pandemic? Nothing, really. In fact, I could write for three or four more hours about my cooking life before I ever got to the pandemic part of the story. But I suppose, to stay true to the title, I should skip ahead, and, for now, anyway, leave out all of the cooking stories I want to tell so that I can get to the point. <br />
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Which is a tragedy, really, because there are so many good cooking stories.<br />
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But let's jump to the late 90's, when the Food Network suddenly became one of the fastest growing stations on cable television. I am sure that there are people out there who have already written about how and why this happened. I honestly haven't taken the time to figure it out. All I know is that by the early 2000s, yummo and EVOO seemed to be household words, and while I knew a number of people who took an increased interest in cooking, I knew exponentially more people who religiously watched the Food Network and put ridiculously nice kitchens in their homes...in many cases, to only get used once or twice a month.<br />
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Don't get me wrong....I don't want that to come out as a judgement. In my opinion, the kitchen is the most kick ass room in the house, and even if you don't really use it, the aesthetics alone are likely worth the money that was spent on it. Besides, 9 times out of 10, when you have a large party or gathering, the kitchen is where most of the people like to hang out (partly because that is where the food and drinks usually are, but also partly because of the inherent vibe of the space).<br />
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But I mention all of this because while an interest in cooking was clearly on the rise, what I witnessed most was nice kitchens with expensive appliances, frequent conversations about Food Network programs, and lots and lots of photos on Facebook of beautiful meals prepared in restaurants (again, no judgement here...I posted plenty of those photos).<br />
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In fact, I think for many years, this interest in food and cooking (for many people, at least) veered more in to an interest in eating other people's cooking, and thus, the "foodie" was formally born. And it's easy to see why. An interest in cooking was growing on the commercial side of things as well, and more and more restaurants serving amazing and interesting food were popping up everywhere. If one had the money, but lacked the time or inclination to cook, eating out was the next best thing. It was a mediated experience, of course, but it still allowed one to partake in the growing trend and interest in food.<br />
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We could discuss how that expression of food and cooking did or didn't get off track, but the "foodie" conversation will have to wait for another day. In 2020, the next turning of the cooking wheel was taking place.<br />
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I remember when I first heard about the coronavirus. Back then it was still the coronavirus and not COVID-19. It was also still contained to China. Or at least it seemed to be.<br />
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I also remember when I first heard the calls for the World Health Organization to label it a pandemic. Although I knew what that meant, in theory, I had no idea then that what it would amount to, now, was most of the U.S. population hanging out at home in relative isolation.<br />
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Additionally, when word of the first pillages of toilet paper made it's way through the media, it still seemed to just be a funny, albeit confusing, over-reaction by the panicked masses.<br />
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Even then...I didn't see it coming.<br />
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Now, two to three weeks in to sequester (depending on who you are and where you live), it is almost impossible to find flour and yeast.<br />
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Flour and yeast.<br />
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Were that many people silently waiting? Waiting for the day when they would be forced to stay at home to cook and bake? My Facebook feed is full of photos of food. All types of food. Food actually made by the person posting the photo. I also see lots of Facebook live videos of people filming themselves cooking and baking.<br />
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And I LOVE it. I really do.<br />
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I mean, it sucks that I can't buy flour or yeast anywhere, but in this pandemic madness; in this time of uncertainty and fear and anxiety; a time when no one knows what our lives will look like on the other side, or when the "other side" will even be; many people are using their time at home to rediscover, or perhaps to discover for the first time, the true joy of cooking.<br />
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That's not to say that some won't go back to what their lives were like before COVID-19 when this all passes, but I have to believe that maybe, just maybe, all of this time at home, not knowing what lies ahead, will create something that no Food Network show could ever do: give people the time and energy to have a first-hand, visceral experience of what a personal and intimate relationship with food and cooking feels like. <br />
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And my hope is that, for many, this will greatly alter how we view our food. And perhaps more importantly, that we pass that reclaimed vision on to our children.<br />
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Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-91812094735655338582020-04-01T15:35:00.002-07:002020-04-01T16:26:33.350-07:00Love (and Life) in the Time of CoronaIn many ways, it feels good to return to the Mydharma Days blog. It is unfortunate, however, that it had to coincide with a global pandemic, but sometimes that's just the way things go.<br />
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The title of this post, if you are younger than the age of 45 and/or aren't in to literature, is a play on Gabriel Garcia Marquez's amazing book Love in the Time of Cholera. I think I would list it in my top 10 (fiction) books, so if you are looking for something to do during this semi-quarantine, I would consider reading it. <br />
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I started using this title in my MindBody Ops Facebook Live posts but thought I would use it here as well to kick off a new chapter, as it seems very appropriate.<br />
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There is really so much to write about, both related to COVID-19 and not. So much that I don't really even know where to start. I will warn you in advance that this post is not the "feel good post of the year."<br />
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Since I spend much of my professional life (as a personal coach and psychotherapist) challenging and deconstructing beliefs, I have noticed that there is one belief that is so interwoven in to our current mindset that we have probably never thought to examine it. It has become a part of the zeitgeist of our modern era; an assumed fundamental truth based on our unique time in history.<br />
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That belief is this:<br />
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We have an entitled view that Life, and the world, is just a medium for us to fulfill whatever desires we have, with little thought towards how it affects other people or the world that we live in.<br />
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If thousands of years ago the prevailing thought was that this world was illusion, or sinful, and something to escape by minimizing or eliminating our desires (and incorrect view, in my opinion), then we have now tipped to the opposite end of the spectrum, where we now see the world as a place to maximize pleasure and happiness and comfort at, basically, any cost.<br />
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We could point the finger at the New Agey ideas that sprang up from places like The Secret, or a number of other abundance teachings, but the soil from which most of those ideas grew came from the reality that most people have not had to live with a global crisis since World World II.<br />
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Now don't get me wrong...if you have lived or served in an area with war, or famine, or a major natural disaster, you have had a taste of this. But there was always some other place you could go to escape it. In fact, you were probably a 2-5 hour plane ride away from a totally different environment.<br />
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But the Great Depression and the World Wars were a whole different level. A high percentage of the world's population was affected at the same time, and these massive events caused profoundly different ways of relating to life and the world around us.<br />
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This should have been easy for us to see. It was right in front of us the whole time. We saw it every day in how our grandparents and great grandparents, the ones who survived these epic events, lived when times got good again. Many of them never let go of those older ways of thinking; the ways that life hardened and chiseled in to them. We naively labeled it "old fashioned," but many of those beliefs were the product of suffering and sacrifice and a world view that none of us have ever had to live under.<br />
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So here we are today, in the midst of what appears to be a global pandemic capable of causing millions of deaths, and so much of what I see on social media is about inconvenience. How dare that virus disrupt my routine, or my vacation, or my 401(k). How dare that virus ruin the success of our runaway economy; the one that has been very much based on debt and destruction and illusion. <br />
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I want to fly wherever I want to fly. I want to go wherever I want to go. I want to do whatever I want to do. It's my right. No one can tell me what I can and can't do.<br />
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Does it seem a little more ridiculous when viewed this way? Can you see the arrogance and entitlement? We have been so fortunate to have avoided so much crisis in the last 70 years that we forgot that our life has actually been a grand luxury.<br />
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If you are still having trouble seeing it, I would invite you to read more about the Great Depression, or about the rations (and internment camps) that happened during WWII. Or if you really want to have your eyes opened, read about what was happening in places like Hong Kong and Macau during the Japanese occupation. <br />
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A Facebook friend of mine (who I won't identify unless he sees this and says it is ok) posted this the other day:<br />
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Trust me, that is just one, small example of what I am talking about.<br />
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This is not to make light of your plummeting 401(K), or your precarious employment situation, or all of the other stressors that we are experiencing during this time. These stresses are real, and I don't mean to devalue them, per se. <br />
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But I do call upon an upgraded understanding and expanded perspective. We have lived during a time that has lulled many/most of us in to a sense of privilege and comfort. And maybe, if we see it as that instead of as how COVID-19 has been a great injustice to our lives, we can live with more mindfulness, and understanding, and appreciation going forward.<br />
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Because honestly, that is what it is going to take as we confront the life and the world that lies in front of us. The challenges that are out there in the near future, long after COVID-19 makes its exit, are going to demand a drastic reframe, and if we can begin to view our lives in the context of these upcoming challenges, we are much more likely to make the decisions (and take the actions) that are necessary to make the most of Love and Life in our short time on this planet.<br />
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What do these changes look like, from my perspective? That is part of what is to come.<br />
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Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-44718213039394397662020-03-30T07:45:00.000-07:002020-03-31T13:51:13.942-07:00Race Sherpa Rises: The side road through cancerIt is time to resurrect this blog.<br />
<br />
But first, a note about the missing piece...<br />
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Not long after my last post, in February of 2015, I was diagnosed with a rare type of cancer. I really wanted to write about my experience, but I wanted to do it somewhere else, so I started a new blog called Race Sherpa Rises, which you can find here: <a href="http://www.racesherparises.com/2019">Race Sherpa Rises blog</a><br />
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Race Sherpa Rises contains all of the content from my cancer experience, including my recovery. It also contains a little bit about the birth of my daughter, Taylor Joi. I actually wanted to pivot that blog in to what it was like to be a stay at home parent, but I decided not to, for reasons that I will explain later in this blog.<br />
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Because I started a side project called The Life Between, much of which is based on my experience with cancer, I wanted to leave Race Sherpa Rises just as it was so that I could use it as a resource. But I also wanted to start writing again, so as of today, I am moving back to Mydharma Days.<br />
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My first post, Love (and Life) in the Time of Corona is coming soon. Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-71739999519974958642015-02-16T14:43:00.002-08:002015-02-16T20:32:17.329-08:00I Know Why The Race Sherpa SherpsThis post has been on my mind for some time now. In fact, I have probably written a number of versions of it my head more than a few times. As to why I have waited so long?? Well, there are a number of reasons, I suppose. I could use the excuse of not having the time, but frankly, as busy as I am, I have found the time for more trivial things.<br />
<br />
I guess part of the reason is that it is really just a personal story, and not one that I feel compelled to share with the rest of the world. That said, being the significant other of Rose Wetzel Sinnett has put me in some sort of "limelight," and while I am not prone to draw attention to myself, sometimes that attention is inherited. <br />
<br />
As such, a number of people have asked me why I haven't done a Spartan Race yet. While the real answers would best be conveyed in a long chat over coffee, or bourbon, I will briefly touch on three different reasons, for all of those who care. For those who don't, feel free to stop reading right now, as you probably won't find the rest very interesting.<br />
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<br />
First, I can't breathe.<br />
<br />
I mean, yes, sitting here, typing this out, I can breathe. But something is wrong with my breathing. And that something gets compounded dramatically as my need for oxygen increases (ie during fast running, with high intensity exercise, etc). I don't mean a little bit, I mean a lot.<br />
<br />
Like many stories, this one changes over time as more and more information is gathered. I used to pin this issue down specifically to July of 2013. I had been training for a 35k trail race in Washington called Angel's Staircase. On July 4th I met a friend at Discovery Park to run two hours of repeats on the south bluff trail. Three days later I did an 18 mile trail run/speed hike in the Cascades. Two days after that I woke up tired and thinking "I don't care if I ever run another step in my entire life."<br />
<br />
Being a trainer and coach, I recognized it right away. I was displaying classic over-training symptoms. My heart rate would become elevated during even easy exercise, my strength plummeted, and psychologically I just didn't care. The thing was, I didn't think my total stress load was high enough to put me in to over-training, so I was a bit perplexed.<br />
<br />
I took two to three weeks off and then just started to do really easy stuff. My breathing issue became more and more noticeable. A number of people shared their thoughts on what they thought I had done to myself. Some of the points seemed possible, others just didn't add up.<br />
<br />
By November I was still doing very minimal stuff. My cardios were really chill and my lifting was pretty lame. My grip strength was all but gone, which I recognized as a possible sign of CNS fatigue. Then I made a fateful decision...<br />
<br />
Rose had decided to run the XTERRA Trail World Championships in Hawaii. Rather than just go along for fun, I decided to do it as well, even though I was really in no condition to race it. We spent about three weeks training hard in the cold, rainy mountain weather; pushing really hard on the inclines. I could do it, but I was maxed out doing it, whereas I could tell Rose was only going about 75-80%.<br />
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The race killed me. I finished decently, actually, but the climbing and the hot weather piled on top of whatever I had going on pushed me way over the edge. I was done; physically and psychologically.<br />
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It was in January of 2014 that I realized that I was not breathing normally at rest, either. I made an appointment with a sports medicine doc who was mostly concerned about a heart issue. My labs were normal, my resting EKG was normal, my resting HR was still around 47 (pretty normal for me when I am training), and my chest xray showed nothing unusual. Their next play was an echocardiogram and/or a cardiopulmonary exercise test. The problem with being self-employed is that my insurance wasn't going to cover very much of anything, and I wasn't convinced they were going to tell me anything other than "you seem to have problems breathing," so I didn't do it.<br />
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Rather than go in to detail of the next eleven months I will just say that I have investigated a number of possibilities: stress, too few carbs, mold exposure, other environmental toxin exposures, lung parasites, etc etc etc... My strength is slowly coming back, but far far from what it used to be. My breathing...well, that hasn't really come back on-line yet. I do my best to work around it.<br />
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I mentioned at the beginning that the story has changed over time. Looking back now, I don't think July 2013 was the acute event. I actually think it started before that, and that maybe it was an escalating breathing issue that pushed me in to that place that looked like over-training. I have since had other labs drawn, outside of the standard tests, that show that there is definitely something going on. So the mystery, and the investigation, continues. I have some intuitions that I continue to pursue.<br />
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So, in summation, my health and fitness have become my priority, and doing races has very little appeal to me (for more than just this health issue; see below).<br />
<br />
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Second, I find a lot of fulfillment in being a sherpa.<br />
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If you have never had the opportunity to play the role of sherpa, without having to think or worry about all that is involved in racing, you should try it. I know that many of you have indeed done this. I have read the race accounts of pacers and support teams and you can see it in their words...that sense of duty and satisfaction of being helpful. It really is a beautiful thing. Rose has traveled to and won a number of races that I wasn't at. She is fully capable of doing it all on her own. But when I go, I can take over all of the logistics, and all she has to think about is the preparing and the racing. It's fun. It builds a sense of team. I am 48, and I have been an athlete my entire life. I have no problem hanging out in the shadows. That said, I am enormously grateful for all of the amazing people I have met in the Spartan community who have made me feel included, from the top elites to the slowest open runners. It has been such a privilege to be a part of that world. Interestingly, it is precisely because I haven't been racing that has allowed me the opportunity to get to know so many people.<br />
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Genuinely...thank you for demonstrating such kindness.<br />
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Third, ????<br />
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This is the tough one. The one that is perhaps the most difficult to explain. <br />
<br />
It is possible that this point of view is tainted because I haven't been feeling the greatest. I acknowledge that. But as of now, through the lenses that I currently wear, even if my health was much better, I don't know how many Spartan Races I would do. It's just not where I am at right now. As I mentioned above, I've been a competitive athlete for most of my life, but at some point (probably around age 32 or so) I made that journey more private. The "why's" would take too long to explain in this already too long blog post. The 35k trail race I signed up for back in 2013 was the first real "race" I had agreed to do in a long, long time. For the last fifteen years my primary competition was my watch and my former self. No competitors, no spectators, no entry fee, no podiums.<br />
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In addition, the flame that used to stoke the fire of athletic competition is now pointing in a different direction. I still enjoy sports and fitness...it is part of my current career...but my focus is on other aspects. And the intensity is just as strong.<br />
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I LOVE to see how empowered people get by doing these races. As a trainer and coach, I have seen the same thing happen with clients. But success in the athletic arena is not how I find my own personal empowerment right now. I still love being athletic; it is still an integral part of my life; but with my focus elsewhere and my health and fitness on the ropes, I've decide to dedicate my time and energy in other ways.<br />
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<br />
So why does the Race Sherpa sherp?<br />
<br />
Because.<br />
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As with any question about a person, the answer rarely lies in assumptions and speculative narratives. If you want to get to the real reasons behind why people do what they do or don't do, ask. And more importantly, listen to the answers. Because some answers won't be as straight-forward as they seem. <br />
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We all have histories and stories that make up who we are. Or more accurately, who we believe ourselves to be. <br />
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Listen. Listen.<br />
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Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-10546228611344958442011-08-30T20:23:00.000-07:002011-08-30T20:23:55.952-07:00Too longToo long, too long...<br />
<br />
The words have played out in my head (only) before returning to the ether<br />
Making contact long enough to see, but without a sketch<br />
Their form now escapes my thoughts<br />
<br />
But oh, how silly to long for the water that has passed by<br />
In the river I am standing inTim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-30509325904246516442011-02-01T20:33:00.000-08:002011-02-01T20:45:51.546-08:00The Question of the Gyro; or, How Endurance Runners Made Me Love the LoafIt's not uncommon when you are in your 20s or 30s to begin loving foods that you disliked as a child. For me, olives and avocados are examples of things that I despised when I was younger but grew to like over time. By your 40s, however, if you've been eating across the food spectrum (as I have), your tastes have pretty much been developed. There is always room for a special preparation of something or another, of course, that might swing your culinary taste (in any form, I rarely like eggplant or artichokes), but it's rare to suddenly start liking something that you've never liked before. Or, in this case, something I had never really eaten before.<br />
<br />
How a carnivore like myself had not crossed paths with gyros is a bit of a mystery. I remember seeing lots of gyro places around when I was growing up, I just wasn't drawn to going to them. But last May, while I was in Spokane for Bloomsday, my entire attitude about gyros changed forever. And I have endurance athletes and antiquated ideas about carb loading to thank for it....<br />
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I was in Spokane with Rose, who had been invited to run Bloomsday as an elite runner. As such, we got to stay in the Double Tree Hotel and had access to all of the elite athlete perks. This included a pre-event meal the night before, consisting of pasta, bread and lots of sweet things, as well as all-day access to the hospitality room, which was constantly full of similar starches. <br />
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First of all, don't get me started on the idea of "carb loading" the night before a race. Especially with pasta. I'm amazed that athletes perform well at all after that blood glucose bolus followed by the subsequent insulin smack-down (not to mention the inflammation potentially firing up as a result of all of those refined starches and sugars). Yes, of course, carbs are an important source of calories for endurance athletes, but the system doesn't work quite like that. Secondly, and more important to this story, is what happens to a protein-type like myself when there is only access to these kinds of foods.<br />
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You know those times when you haven't eaten in quite a while and your brain starts to go crazy? That's what it's like for me when I haven't had some serious protein. The Kenyans seemed to be having no problems, but I was suffering and exhibiting some serious physical and psychological deficits. Craving meat and feeling fuzzy-headed I found myself wandering outside the hotel, looking at the Yelp app on my iPhone for ANYWHERE nearby that might do the trick. Azteca, across the street?? No no. I wasn't THAT desperate. I think I might rather pass out and fall over. I was looking for something that, at the very least, had good local reviews. I'm not a TOTAL food snob, but I do care about what is going in to my body (if not by quality then at least by taste).<br />
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Finally, a Greek place showed up on Yelp. With really good reviews. And only a few blocks away. A light shining down from heaven! I practically ran there, and when it came time to order I almost didn't know how to choose from all of the meat-oriented options. I settled for a simple gyro, and when they brought it out to me it was as if I had been served my first meal in a month. It was unbelievable.<br />
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I understand that when you are really hungry even the most simple foods taste amazing, like a PB&J sandwich during a long hike. But THIS! THIS was something special. And when I got back to Seattle I took to eating gyros as a weekly staple. I would have to say that it even displaced tacos as my favorite "out and quick" go-to food.<br />
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So here I am, almost ten months later, and gyros are still an intricate part of my weekly eating pattern. But because it's gone this long, I have to finally confront the one thing that I ignored originally (out of necessity) and have turned a blind eye to ever since: what IS that beef/lamb meatloaf, exactly, and where does it come from? I don't consume high-fructose corn syrup, I avoid most sugar and grain products, I buy organic produce and organic/grass fed meat whenever I can. What I am left with when I strip it all down to the core is that I intuitively know that the quality of meat in those gyros isn't very high. And some day soon that knowledge is going to overtake my love of them. But until then, I will savor every bite. And I have skinny endurance runners to thank for it.Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-85978103980904767222010-05-15T19:05:00.000-07:002010-05-15T19:18:36.369-07:00Don't call it a comeback...How is it that it is now 2010? Not just 2010, mind you, but the middle of May 2010. Where have I been? What has changed?<br /><br />On a glacial scale, very little has changed, of course. In human terms, however, so much has changed that to go back and try to revisit it all seems pointless. So I'm left with "not much has changed" in terms of information to share, and yet in reality everything has changed. <br /><br />You can't put your foot in the same river twice, they say. And that's true of life as well. It is in constant flux. And even though we sometimes feel as if there's nothing to SAY, it's only because the constant, on-going, moment to moment movement of our own existence eludes us (or eludes our ability to verbalize it). The person I was when I started typing this is already different; thoughts are different, biology is different, molecules are different.<br /><br />How silly we are...conceptualizing separate, discrete, tangible...where only interconnected, continuous, and empty exists.Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-83192855687328804242007-12-09T20:08:00.000-08:002007-12-10T10:36:21.953-08:00Life: A View from Omaha<span style="font-size:85%;">There have been numerous topics which I've wanted to write about in the last couple of weeks, but unfortunately, my schedule has not lent itself to doing so. There is a season for everything under the sun, as they say, and apparently I am in the summer of my insanity. And by insanity I mean general craziness, and not mental illness. </span><span style="font-size:85%;">Although perhaps there are some who would say that the line between the two is sketchy, at best.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">At any rate, this last week has brought some things to my attention, and I thought I would write a little down before the ideas escaped, uncaptured, in to the past.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">As I'm sure many of you heard, there was an awful tragedy in Omaha, NE this week when a disturbed young man opened fire in a busy shopping mall, killing eight people. He then took his own life. I suppose it was natural for those who knew that I was from Omaha to ask me if everyone (meaning friends, family, etc) was OK. On one hand the question seems a little silly. I mean, Omaha is a very large city, and the odds of one of my friends or family members being among those who were shot seem almost astronomical. And yet, all of those people were the friends and/or family of SOMEONE, so that got me thinking....</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">When I was in my early 20's, working in the corporate world, trying to figure out what I really wanted to do with my life, the question that finally got me to leave the comfort of that well-paying but unsatisfying career was this: If I died tomorrow, would I be able to feel good about how I was living today? I mention this now because there was a reason that I asked myself that question in the first place. It occured to me that we all carry around this idea that we're going to live to be 80 years old. And the fact is, we aren't guaranteed to even wake up tomorrow morning.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Of course, the psychological stress that we would be under if we were constantly aware of our own fragility and mortality would be unbearable, which is probably why we live with the delusion in the first place. It helps us function. It keeps us from 'freaking out.'</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">And yet I think it's important to be vigilant in challenging ourselves with that question, because it's only when we are operating from that brutal sense of Reality that we can start making the decisions that matter.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">You might think it merely a philosophical issue, but I can tell you this...those eight people who died that day in the Westroads Mall had no idea that that was how their day was going to play out. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">A number of years ago, when I worked in the ER at Harborview Medical Center, it occured to me that all of those people who came in to the ER were, just prior to their death or injury or medical emergency, all just living their normal lives, doing what they do, just like you and I do every day...until something went very wrong. Our ideas of being in an accident, or getting shot, or whatever else, are misconceptualized because the "experience" we have of them is more often than not mediated via the television or the movies. And what we aren't realizing is that the way we see it on TV ( or at the movies) is from a third person perspective...and quite often from an omniscient third person perspective. We see both the potential victim AND the intruder with the gun, the camera flashes at both the car of unsuspecting people AND the out of control semi-truck racing down the highway. We hear the music change, we know the plot. We anticipate it. We know it's coming. In so many ways our experience of these things has no resemblance to reality whatsoever.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">If we use the Washington D.C. sniper as an example...from a first person perspective, those people who were killed were just filling their cars with gas one minute, and the next minute...well, there was no next minute. There was no mental processing of the event. There was no anticipation. There was no thinking about loved ones, or things they wanted to do before they died. It was just over. Just like that.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I know that some people will think that writing about this is a little depressing. But I choose to think that more than anything, it has the potential to be liberating. Lift off the veil. Embrace reality. Define your life, and decide what is important to you. Live with as much integrity as you can. Express your love to those close to you. And perhaps most especially, appreciate the time that you have here.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">So as you go about your hectic life, be mindful of the larger picture. And live not necessarily like there is no tomorrow, but rather in a way that if there was indeed no tomorrow, you could be ok with how you were living today. Everyone's version will look different from everyone else's. The key is to find what that way is for YOU. And in this way, we honor both life <em>and</em> death.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Finally, my condolences to all of the friends and families of those who walked in but not out of the mall that day in Omaha. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-53856298954611943682007-11-25T16:54:00.000-08:002007-11-25T18:08:12.006-08:00A Quarter Note on Music<span style="font-size:85%;">Music is amazing. It's transcendent. At least for me. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In her comment to my last post Kim mentioned that "Music can recreate a feeling in the here and now when words fail."</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I find that an eloquent description. And I will add to that by saying that I can use music to CREATE a feeling within me...allowing me to evoke certain moods and states of being within myself just as one might cultivate different soils to produce different fruits.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I wrote something back in December of 2003 on music. It was an attempt at trying to convey its importance... </span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>"what place inside does a series of notes touch that moves us to a feeling so strong that the life in front of us seems but a shadow, less than real?</em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>a dream in which you know you are an actor, and in that knowing remain somehow protected from the full spectrum of what the heart is heir to..</em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>if on the other side of the world there is a berry of which we have never tasted, how can we know that taste by another's description? or its smell?</em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>therefore, what langauge does music speak that our heart finds fluency? from where in our lives have we felt that music with our hearts and not our ears?</em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>and what doors have we shut on our own lives that the heart must remember its fullness by the tune outside the window?"</em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">This is where I would normally blather on and on about what music means to me. And I would use colorful language and rich metaphors to describe something which has no good verbal explanation. But rather than go in to all of that, I invite audience participation. I would rather you all comment on music's influence on you.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The floor is open....</span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-32705637918588214042007-11-18T10:40:00.000-08:002007-11-18T10:44:55.131-08:00The Horror...the horror...<span style="font-size:85%;">In Wind, Sand and Stars, Antoine de Saint Exupery writes about the idea of describing a traumatic event after the event itself has taken place. He says,<br /><br /><em>“The cyclone of which I am about to speak was, physically, much the most brutal and overwhelming experience I ever underwent; and yet beyond a certain point I do not know how to convey its violence except by piling one adjective upon another, so that in the end I should convey no impression at all – unless perhaps that of an embarrassing taste for exaggeration.<br /><br />It took me some time to grasp the fundamental reason for this powerlessness, which is simply that I should be trying to describe a catastrophe that never took place. The reason why writers fail when they attempt to evoke horror is that horror is something invented after the fact, when one is re-creating the experience over again in the memory. Horror does not manifest itself in the world of reality. And so, in beginning my story of a revolt of the elements which I myself lived through I have no feeling that I shall write something which you will find dramatic.”</em><br /><br />I take his point to be mostly true. It’s difficult for me not to, as I adore Saint-Exupery. If you haven’t had a chance to read him before, or if you’ve only read The Little Prince, then I highly recommend that you check him out.<br /><br />For me, another angle of his position is of equal importance….it is only when you are mired in the situation itself that you are able to describe what is really happening, in a form and intensity that closely approximates how you are experiencing it at the time. Every story told after the event, while perhaps enriched with the meaning and context that time provides (due to reflection, contemplation, imagination, etc) is also tinted by that same mental processing. That is, in retrospect, you might be able to provide a better story for the experience, but the actual details of the experience, as you experienced them, can only be told from a time within (or just adjacent to) the event itself.<br /><br />I mention this because in the last few days I’ve been meaning to capture the insanity of my life by writing about it from the inside; scribbles on the asylum cell wall. I could have written about my 15 hour days (including the day I had 12 clients in those 15 hours), the fact that I haven’t had heat at home, or that I have constant construction going on, or that I basically live in a 5 foot by 5 foot section of my living room (which is otherwise full of kitchen appliances, an 8 foot tall stack of kitchen cabinets, as well as all of the normal living room items). I could have written about the stream of checks I’ve been writing out to workers, or that I’ve been sleeping on my loveseat (which is not as long as I am tall), or how my downstairs tenant now has a nice little skylight…with a complimentary view of the bottom of my kitchen floor.<br /><br />But something happened. Two things, in fact. First of all, as things slowed down slightly, all of that energy that had been pulsing through me, fueled by the craziness, ran out and precipitated in to fatigue, dissipating my original desire to write. And secondly, all of the words I had been trying to capture along the way to relate the experiences got crushed under the time of more experiences, until finally there were no longer any words left to convey. It’s like running in to an old friend, who asks you “So what’s new in your life?” If only a few weeks have passed since you’ve last seen them you can probably recall many of the details of those past weeks. But if a year or more has passed, especially if the time has been particularly eventful, you no longer know what to say, and you are reduced to replying with something vague. There is too much. And there are no longer words to describe what you could have easily described at the time of the experience without any difficulty.<br /><br />That’s what this moment feels like to me. It’s less a fear of “piling one adjective upon another” (and thereby watering down the experience), and more a lack of being able to summon forth the words to begin with. Or the energy to do so.<br /><br />Lucky for you. :)<br /><br />Some people believe that the things that happen to us in our lives are often preparing us for other things later on. It’s an interesting belief. And there is some sense to it, I suppose, if one believes that there is some guiding principle in the Universe. Although knowing the human tendency to find meaning in everything makes me suspicious of thoughts like this, even though I do, in some manner, believe in such a guiding principle.<br /><br />Still, if such a thing exists, I have to think that many of the stressful and unsettled experiences of my past are what now enable me to function in the craziness of my current life.<br /><br />CRA-ZY. Whew!<br /><br />In some demented way, it’s almost humorous. :)</span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-37837679846341961602007-11-11T12:06:00.000-08:002007-11-11T14:41:52.718-08:00And I Used to be Such an Interesting Person...<span style="font-size:85%;">Ok, perhaps I'm thinking a bit too highly of myself....but humor me for the purpose of this post...</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>"Perpetual devotion to what a man calls his business, is only to be sustained by perpetual neglect of many other things."--Robert Louis Stevenson</em></span><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">We have a tendency, I think, to really appreciate the man or woman who puts everything else aside and with pure heart and single-pointed attention and constant devotion seeks out to do or create or sustain. And certainly one cannot deny that such a quality has some merit and is commendable in its own way. There are plenty of examples of what extraordinary things can be accomplished by one so focused.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">And yet, like everything, it has its cost.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">For me...with so much attention put on the rigors of self-employment (and the subsequent financial implications thereof) I find myself being less interesting. I don't have the time or energy to keep up on the things that interest me...the reading, the listening, the studying, the doing. And failing to do those things makes me feel monotonous. And if you know me, I don't do well with monotony....especially as it pertains to my life.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Of course, in spirit, the creative, dynamic quality still flows and circulates within me. I am moved by it every time I allow myself to shut the "machine" off. It rushes in and fills the space. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">So like everything, it comes down to balance. The ability to give time to everything that feeds you. Of course, it's a dynamic balance...oscillating back and forth across the center line and never quite resting right in the middle. And that can be the tricky part...recognizing the moment when you've drifted too far away for the natural gravity of the middle to pull you back. Once you get beyond that point, it takes propulsion...an act of will...to move you back towards the center.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">And even when you've cultivated that will, you have to find the actions to support the new course.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">That's where I am right now....slowly rotating my thrusters in to the proper position but still slowly drifting further out. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Perhaps just recognizing this, and taking the time write about it, is in its own way a small deceleration.</span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-991326129324758552007-11-10T20:06:00.000-08:002007-11-10T22:57:03.048-08:00What Dreams May Come When Darkness Falls<span style="font-size:85%;">There seems to be an inverse relationship between craziness levels and creativity levels. Meaning, my life has been completely and utterly crazy...and my creativity has plummeted. It's not that I don't have those creative moments, however, because I do. I just don't have the time or energy to massage them in to something more....like, say, writing. So it's been awhile since I've written. And even though I now have the time, the residual of that anxiety keeps the stillness (in which the creativity blossoms) from really taking root.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Oh well..... it is what it is...</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I need to go back a couple of weeks and reflect for a moment on dreams. Two weeks in a row I had very vivid dreams about death. Not my death, but deaths of others (although I was present to both).</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Dreams are familiar territory for me. First of all, I remember them (for the most part, at least). I also have experience with them...their form...their content...their quality. And it's the quality that I want to focus on, because more than anything, it's that "quality" that moves me to either find meaning in them or to write them off as psychological babbling.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">And like many people, I think we can probably write-off most of our dreams. It's the scientific explanation, right? Just our minds way of taking care of random pieces of information, etc... But there are some dreams, and you know when you have them, that are something more. It's like they come from a different place. And therefore, deserve a different type of attention. These death dreams were like that. It wasn't just the content that stood out, but the quality.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I don't really know yet what the meaning of them could have been. I don't necessarily see them as "predictive". I don't think my dreams have ever had that "foretelling" sense. It's more about the "why?". What in the dream has a message? And what IS the message? It could be that it's just my reactions to what happen that are the important thing...reflecting back to me something about myself that's difficult to see in real life because the "trauma" of the experiences are less. In that way dreams can be a great boon....teaching us something about ourselves without having to experience the tragedy in real life.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Thinking about things in that way can be tremendously helpful. And certainly you can learn a lot using that kind of reflection...whether what you are reflecting on is "real" or "dream".</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">But is there something more? I tend to think that there is. Not because I believe that all dreams are messages, but because I recognize when a certain type of dream stands out as unique from the others. I also probably believe this because of all of the other experiences I've had (ghosts, OBEs, lucid dreams, etc...). It's not so difficult for me to believe that "Life" is so much more than we perceive it to be, because I've already witnessed things that lie behind the normal veil of perception. Once you've seen behind the curtain, suddenly everything seems possible.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Dark.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Can you believe the darkness? A number of my friends have mentioned to me what I had already been thinking... it seems darker this year. Of course, it probably isn't...but why does it seem so? Perhaps it's also a reflection of what's going on inside of us. Or even a reflection of the overall universal consciousness. There IS a lot of darkness. And it compounds the absence of the sun. Which in Seattle right now seems non-existant between the hours of 5p and 7a.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">See how I just keep moving from one subject to another...without a creative segue??</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Well, in keeping with that, I injured myself last Monday night (this is an addition to the lingering injuries, of course), and it never ceases to amaze me how much that affects my mental state. There are so many issues wrapped up in my body....my "athletic-ness"... It's not just that I'm physically active...although that alone would be enough to drive people crazy. It's also that it reflects upon my career... and my stress-reducing methods...and in many ways, to my self-esteem. It's funny how we package ourselves up in our own minds. The image that we carry around about ourselves. In many ways we live so small. So confined. And in some cases, totally delusional.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I'm pretty sure that this is the point where I would talk about all of the other meaningful things that I've thought about....but alas....none are coming to mind. It's only 9pm, and already the weight of the darkness has me leaning towards sleep. Well, that and the end of an exhausting week. And the fact that I woke up at 4am this morning. Ok, so maybe I'm not doing the math correctly. Still, it seems early to feel this way...</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Oh! Wait! One last thing... and I guess it's back on the death issue. It's interesting how you can work yourself in to an INTELLECTUAL place of peace regarding "death"...whether it be your eventual death or the death of someone that you love. But it's quite a different experience when the potential moment of death arrives. It can cast so much unrest on your conceptual ideas of "ok-ness" with the whole thing. I have walked on that boundary before....and observed both my delusions and my insecurities. As for me...and this has been shown in both my real-life experiences and my dream-experiences...my deep deep discomfort comes not from the death itself but the horror or agony or pain or suffering that are present in that moment. And I'm especially referring to the cases of other people dying. It's the thought of their pain or suffering in that moment that shakes my core and causes the emotional reaction. I can barely sit with it because of how strongly it affects me. I, of course, don't enjoy pain and suffering, but the thought of the people that I love experiencing it is the thing that induces horror in me.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Ok, so...ick. That's probably not a good subject to end this post on, huh?</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Let's think of something lighter....just for a moment...</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Hmmmm...I want to end with something that Gene Ching (I think?) wrote on Kung-fu On-line back in 2003...mostly because visualizing it always makes me smile. He was describing his stay at a Buddhist monestary...and the rigors of trying to meditate all day long...</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">"Tea is the meditator's friend and I sure wished I had some then. I was losing this battle, and like losing any fight, I feared the embarrassing thud of my head hitting the floor. You never want to hear that sound from the inside."</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">:)</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">And with that, I bid thee adieu...</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-70278417264303559192007-10-31T21:56:00.000-07:002007-11-01T11:17:06.322-07:00Cogito Ergo Sum<span style="font-size:85%;">Oh snap! I forgot to mention another fun fact in the course of reframing... my Dell laptop. You know, the one whose battery gets so hot that sometimes I think it's going to burst in to a fiery ball of computer magma? Well, with it being so cold in here, now it's the perfect temperature to keep me warm.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Along the lines of reframing....I had an amazing insight this morning, and it involves beliefs versus thoughts. There are many good things that come from having positive thoughts, obviously, but if our underlying beliefs about something run counter to those thoughts, then the "power" that we normally associate with "thinking positive" is largely neutralized. Because at a deeper level, if we are really carrying around a message that is negative, or is driven by fear or anxiety or whatever, then that is the message that is going to be broadcast, both out loud and to our subconscious. Beliefs trump thoughts every time.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">That part, in and of itself, wasn't terribly new to me. What was new to me was how it applied to my life. With my super long work days and the house remodel and having little personal/private time it was easy to start feeling worn down and burnt out. Recognizing the mental space that I was in, I decided to keep thinking positive about everything. But this morning I realized that while I was doing my best to think and be positive, underneath it all there was still a feeling, or a belief, that was based on negativity.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">This isn't my journal. I don't need to air all of my dirty laundry to the world...so I won't go in to all of the details. But I will say that once I recognized what had been happening, and I started thinking about the base belief system and how it could be changed to be positive, within about 10 minutes I noticed a difference in how I felt. And I mean how I REALLY felt.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In lots of ways it's about "tension", right? Those negative belief systems that stick deep in to our subconscious create psychic tension...in both our bodies and our minds. What happens when we view the world framed through these tensions? What happens to our vision and outlook? How do we see our lives, and our purpose? How do we see others?</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">How do we purge ourselves of the tension that we have? Is it enough to learn to be totally present in the moment (because afterall, this inner tension is for the most part based on the past or the future)? Or do we need to be more cognitive about it? Find the larger context in which to intepret what we've found?</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Another day, when I have more time, perhaps I can develop these thoughts more fully. I guess I already have ideas on it (of course) but haven't totally worked through to the final answers (if they are there to begin with).</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I can't help but think about the Buddhist idea of suffering coming from wanting things to be other than they are. It seems so applicable here.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Another, unrelated, thing...you know when people say "I am up to my ass in (blank)"? And the "blank" can be anything that they are overwhelmed by? Well, it occured to me that people also say "I am up to my eyeballs in (blank)". Now, you would THINK that the "ass" version would mean that someone is in a worse off space than the "eyeball" version because profanity is usually used to express more extreme situations. But the offending thing in question here is "up to"...implying a rising level...implying from the ground up. And since your eyeballs are clearly much higher than your ass, technically being "up to your eyeballs" is a much worse off place to be!</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I know, weird, right?</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I don't even want to think about the phrase "ass over teacup/teakettle"....</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Sleepy...sleepy... it's beginning to seriously settle in, and I need to catch the yin train because the yang train is coming by at 11p....which is only 20min away...</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Before ski conditioning class started tonight I was in the gym shooting around. There was a time when basketball was my life, but frankly, in the last 15 years I have barely played at all. I can still shoot well. My accuracy from the NBA 3-point line is just as keen...I'm just not quite as consistent, as I haven't been shooting on a regular basis. Anyway, I decided that I was going to shoot free throws until I missed. Eighteen makes later I finally had one rim out. And I had to laugh, because it's been 20 years or more since I've stood at the free throw line and practiced knocking down free throws. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I am just amazed that having something like a free throw shot drilled in to your muscle memory so much when you are in high school...over and over and over...can be called up like an internal program and be replicated more than 20 years later. Thank you, Mr McGill, for all of that practice!</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I'd like to write more...or go back and edit and re-write what I've written here...but I just don't have time. Oh well, it's just a function of where things are right now. In the meantime, Happy Halloween!</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-52661366018181640712007-10-30T21:57:00.000-07:002007-11-01T11:18:03.366-07:00Cognitive Reframing of a Remodel<span style="font-size:85%;">So, it occured to me that I could go on and on about all of the crappy things about living amongst a remodel.... but it's time I put this whole cognitive reframing thing in to action. So, on that note...</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Plaster dust, after it has been inside of you for some time, and begins to work its way in to your mouth, actually has a nice little sweet aftertaste to it.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Having the heater in the kitchen, which is the area of the house that is contained in the "boy in the bubble" plastic walls, means it doesn't get turned on...which saves on energy and reduces my carbon footprint.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The coldness in the house due to the aforementioned heater issue means I can leave the bottle of white wine I purchased tonight sitting out instead of having to put it in the refrigerator.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The same goes for any perishable items that I also might have purchased.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Getting accustomed to living in an area of about 15 feet by 15 feet is going to make my house seem HUGE when the kitchen is completed.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I am getting my money's worth out of the bivy sack that I bought from Nic a year and a half ago (at a yard sale he was having...and he convinced me to buy it while he was inside of it...lying on a couch...which was also in his front yard).</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I don't have to worry about cleaning, or even "picking up", as the whole house is a disaster.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">It gives me the opportunity to spend a lot of money.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Gosh, I'm sure there are many many more that are just not coming to mind right now. I'll keep working on it..</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Bivy time!</span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-22938478743313212172007-10-29T13:52:00.000-07:002007-11-01T11:19:09.825-07:00Neglect<span style="font-size:85%;">2007 has been one of the more difficult years of my life. There is the usual work/business stuff, of course, but I also bought a house. Buying a house in Seattle can be a traumatic experience in and of itself, but I've also been remodeling. Not just "Let's change the color of the bathroom" remodeling but full-on interior landscape remodeling.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">One of the most difficult parts to this kind of remodeling, besides the work/financial aspect, is the unsettledness. Still living amongst unpacked boxes....not knowing where things are (like business records for taxes)...not having a kitchen... Oh, did I mention that I haven't had a kitchen? Yeah, so, that's been kind of difficult....</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Anyway, the process has started. The remaining demo has been completed. Well, mostly. Things will be underway soon to finally put back all of the pieces.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I bring this up because this is primarily why I haven't written lately...and why I might not get around to writing anytime soon. Topics and issues seem to swirl around in my head but I usually don't have the time or energy to digest, contemplate and write about them in a way that's palatable. So for now things are back burnered, and soon, hopefully, I will be able to write again.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">With that said...I'm going to leave you with part of a poem. It came across my path recently, and I'm choosing to share it here because I really want to talk about the ideas in it down the road. Hope you enjoy!!</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">"....But often, in the world'</span><span style="font-size:85%;">s most crowded streets,</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">But often, in the din of strife,</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">There rises an unspeakable desire</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">After the knowledge of our buried life;</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">A thirst to spend our fire and restless force</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In tracking out our true, original course;</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">A longing to inquire</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Into the mystery of this heart which beats</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">So wild, so deep in us </span><span style="font-size:85%;">to know</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Whence our lives come and where they go....."</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The Buried Life</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Matthew Arnold </span><br /><a href="http://www.bartleby.com/246/422.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://www.bartleby.com/246/422.html</span></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-73465723006013775142007-10-25T21:40:00.000-07:002007-10-25T22:02:50.426-07:00Roger and Me<span style="font-size:85%;">So in the last six months or so I have found myself using the term "roger", or "roger that", quite a bit. Especially in the context of text messages (as my clients can attest to). So the other day I was thinking "Where does that come from? Why do people say "roger" when they mean"Ok, I heard what you said and I'm cool with it."?</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">So I did a little digging...</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Apparently, if you didn't know already , "roger" means "heard you" in the context of military and civilian aviation. It comes from the letter "R" of "received", which in the old phonetic alphabet was called "roger". It was commonly followed by the word "that" to form the aviation phrase "roger that". The letter "R" in the new phonetic alphabet is Romeo instead of Roger.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">As a sidenote, "Wilco", besides being a pretty cool band, is the contraction of the phrase "will comply". So "Roger Wilco" meant "I received your message that you have received my message and am signing off." It was a reply to Roger from the original transmitter of the radio message.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I don't really expect you to care about any of that, of course, I'm just sayin'.....</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I know I had other, immensely entertaining, things to say, but I seem to have forgotten them at the moment. Dang.</span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-87675655746809339182007-10-24T22:06:00.000-07:002007-10-24T22:10:12.032-07:00The Hump of Arousal, cognitive reframing and Red Dawn (Wolverines!)<span style="font-size:85%;">There was a section on sports psychology during the seminar last weekend. One subject that was talked about was the optimal level of arousal needed for optimal performance. If we look at the relationship between the two we get what’s called the Inverted U Curve Theory; or the Inverted U Curve Principle. Apparently, which name you use depends upon how strongly you agree with it. Anyway, I bring this up because our instructor said that if HE would have invented this idea he would have called it the “Hump Theory”. He was just being funny, but it seems as if Joe wanted me to mention this.<br /><br />As a side note, our instructor also told us stories about his own experiences regarding anxiety/arousal levels during certain activities. He said that he went out with some friends once to go rappelling and that the thing that scared him the most was the beer.<br /><br />I think Joe and I were the only ones who laughed. Does the altitude in Colorado Springs damage the part of the brain that controls one’s sense of humor? Perhaps it is near that place in the lobe that also causes spitting? I would probably need to see some research to be sure.<br /><br />So let’s talk about how cool the phrase ‘cognitive reframing’ is!! Or better yet, let’s talk about how cool the idea is!! Thanks to Sierra I hope to use this phrase every chance I get. And I encourage you all to use this “rose colored glasses” technique as well in the coming weeks. And remember, it’s not delusional. It’s just choosing to see the bright side. Of everything. (Is anyone else hearing the Monty Python whistling right now, or it is just me?)<br /><br />Somehow we need to work “paradoxical directives” in there too, but I haven’t figured out how yet. Still, if you want to sound intelligent, feel free to throw it in to your conversations with friends.<br /><br />As far as Red Dawn (Wolverines!)…one thing that is really cool about having a sky full of clouds in the early morning is that sometimes, just above the mountains, the sky is clear. So when the sun rises, there is a minute or two where it is above the mountains but still below the clouds. And in that moment, the red that is painted on the underbelly of the clouds is unbelievable. It’s not just the color, either, it’s the texture. What appeared as a smooth grey sheet one minute becomes a textured canvas of red and blue the next. It’s a Red Dawn (Wolverines!) that is hard to forget. And sometimes, it is the only sunlight we get for the rest of the day (ie today).<br /><br />Oh, and if you’re wondering why I put “Wolverines!” after I write Red Dawn…well…let’s just say that if you have to ask, you probably won’t understand. Google might help you out, however.</span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-35467573580765353472007-10-21T14:34:00.000-07:002007-10-21T15:39:01.063-07:00Rocky Mountain Mucus, and other observations<span style="font-size:85%;">I just returned from Colorado Springs where I was attending a conference on endurance athletic events at the National Strength and Conditioning Association headquarters. A good couple of days, and the weather was amazing (65-70 degrees and sunny). While I was gone, Seattle apparently did not have such stellar weather. Wind, rain, snow or hail...depending on who you talk to. From the comfort of my climate-controlled hotel room I watched the footage of my neighborhood (Ballard) on The Weather Channel. It's funny to me that they labeled it "Ballard, WA", as to my knowledge Ballard is still just a neighborhood in Seattle. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I have often fantasized, however, about designating Ballard with some rightful title. I mean, we have the Republic of Fremont (aka Center of the Universe) just to the southeast. I've lived in the People's Republic of Boulder (CO) before. From what I can tell, Ballard is easily as worthy. It wouldn't be Ballard-like to use the word "republic", however, so what? Commonwealth? Territory? Sovereign state? Kingdom? There must be something....</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Anyway, back to The Weather Channel...apparently the weather was pretty severe all over the country, especially in the midwest and east, where there were strings of severe thunderstorms and tornados. Clearly, Colorado was immune from this extreme weather outbreak. Oh, and I use the phrase "weather outbreak" because it's something Jim Cantore said while talking about all of the extreme weather that was breaking out all over the country....we had a "weather outbreak".</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Jim Cantore didn't say "extreme weather outbreak", or even "bad weather outbreak"...he said "weather outbreak"...as if there had been no weather at all leading up to the current calamity. It made me laugh. Still does. I'm sure I will continue to use the phrase. I wonder what "no weather" would look like.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The other thing that Jim Cantore said was " wad of storms". He was pointing to a storm system in Cuba, and referred to them as a "wad"...seriously...I sh** you not. A very liberal use of the word...or at least a very creative one. Language can be so interesting. Assuming he was referring to an English word in the first place.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">So, you know how sometimes you subconsciously...or perhaps "slightly consciously"...notice things, but it's not until something casts a light on it that it really starts to stand out? Well, part of me must have been noticing that people in Colorado Springs spit. A lot. And not being around a lot of spitting back in the BT (Ballard Territory....how was that? Did it sound natural?), I must have registered it somewhere in my consciousness, but not quite strong enough to protrude in to my current stream of thoughts. It wasn't until Joe, who went with me on the trip, mentioned "boogers" that I realized that yes, I too had been experiencing a lot of nasal mucus. In fact, one could say that I had been experiencing "wads" of mucus. And as that impression began to sink in, I heard it again....</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">"Whooh!"</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Spitting. So is that what happens in Colorado Springs? Everyone is plagued by Rocky Mountain Mucus, and so they're spitting all of the time? Is that the explanation? Or is it something else? I can't say for sure. But I can't help but wonder.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Another thing about Colorado Springs....do they put tequila in their margaritas? Any at all? Because the number that Joe and I drank on Friday night should have made it difficult for us to describe to the Yellow Cab dispatcher where to come get us...but in fact, we probably could have scored well on a MENSA exam if we had taken it just then. (As an aside, the person who would NOT have scored well on the MENSA exam at that moment would have been the Yellow Cab dispatcher...but I won't go in to that story.)</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">So anyway, just some thoughts about Colorado Springs...</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Back in Seattle now and the familiar is settling in...not just in terms of weather, but in terms of life. You can run, but you can't hide...as they say. I was neither running nor hiding, but it doesn't change the fact that all of the things that I was trying juggle before I left are still up in the air, waiting for me to slide back under them and continue the tossing. The difference, hopefully, is that with a little break away from it all I can slightly modify the direction of the tossing. Creating a different arc to each thing, working for a more sustainable pathway.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">And sustainablity is going to be the key. At least for right now.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-4987189554544858562007-10-17T21:59:00.000-07:002007-10-17T23:02:39.169-07:00Behold my powers; and what's up with the hatin'?<span style="font-size:85%;">So my friend recently sent me two definitions of "actuary". I feel as if it's only fair that you know what they are, seeing as how I was educated as one:</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">1) A professional statistician working for an insurance company. They evaluate your application and medical records to <strong><em>project how long you will live</em></strong>.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">2) Actuaries are <strong><em>intensively educated</em></strong> and their knowledge is used in many </span><span style="font-size:85%;">different fields in order to<strong><em> predict future events based upon past occurrences</em></strong>.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Now I don't know about you, but I think these are pretty cool talents. I mean, sure, they aren't the Jedi mind trick or anything like that, but still...they fall just short of the gift of prophecy. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Although it actually IS the gift of prophecy...just based on historical trends. Hmmm... so that begs the question, if a prophecy is based on a liklihood, is it prophecy? Or does prophecy have to be a contrarian statement, which goes against the expected outcome (a virgin birth, the Cubs winning the World Series, etc)? Or, is prophecy only prophecy if it turns out to be correct? OR, is prophecy just the uttering of a "prophet"? And if so, what does it take to attain that status? To be correct about a few things? And if so to that, HOW MANY things do they have to be correct about to be considered a prophet? Because if you tell me one only needs to get a certain PERCENTAGE of things correct to be considered a "prophet"...then I'm going to show you how an actuary qualifies!!!</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">How cool is that? I was educated, intensively, as a prophet. This truly is a Yahoo! News day for me.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Oh, and as far as me projecting how long you will live...I'd recommend that you just don't fill in the questionnaire that I will be distributing over the next few weeks.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Speaking of how long you will live...why do people have so much negative energy about Into the Wild? I guess I don't get why some people have such a strong reaction towards Chris. Do I think the story "glorifies" that lifestyle? Or celebrates him as a Thoreau or Whitman-like character? Well, in the sense that there IS some beauty in pursuing a passion...sure. And the fact that when you are cut away from the many stressors that are a part of our society, that lack of psychic tension sometimes leads to a a kind of "grace". It's like allowing the Universe to fill in the space. And what you experience and learn in that space can be very beautiful and meaningful.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">However, I don't think the story glorifies his life in any sense beyond that. Clearly he was woefully unprepared. And clearly he made some serious mistakes. So did he, in some way, bring about his own death? Absolutely. I don't think we need to view Chris as a martyr to be able to cherish the passion of his search. Or to recognize that there is a potential search to be had in the first place. It is the classic story, the epic adventure...written all over the annals of human history.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I guess what I find most crazy is why people CARE so much in the first place. Live and let live, I say. I know that for me, I have so much going on in my own life that I wouldn't know where to begin in the judging of his life. ..or in the telling of it.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">By the way, if you happen to be one of my friends, and you have this particular take on Into the Wild, I can assure you this is not an attack on you per se. It just seems like I have met a number of people with the same strong emotion about the whole thing.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I need to stop writing so late at night. Sometimes I will pause in my typing and next thing I know I catch myself with my eyes closed and my head nodding. Ooops!</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In closing...sometimes (ok, lots of times) songs really grab my attention. Today it was the Cure. Enjoy:</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">i hear her voice</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">calling my name</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">the sound is deep</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">in the dark</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">i hear her voice</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">and start to run</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">into the trees</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">into the trees</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">suddenly i stop</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">but i know it's too late</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">i'm lost in a forest</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">all alone</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">the girl was never there</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">it's always the same</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">i'm running towards nothing</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">again and again and again</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">and again and again and again</span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-51431162124336713732007-10-17T10:26:00.000-07:002007-10-17T22:57:24.324-07:00Congratulations to Me!<span style="font-size:85%;">Thank you! It's nice of you to notice... </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">What? Oh...wait...you don't know? Ohhh...sorry... I guess you haven't heard.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Well, I had my birthday last weekend, and I am now the oldest former actuary turned personal trainer who also writes a blog! I know, I know... no, really, thank YOU. It just means a lot to me that you noticed.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Other things you might not know about me (cuz I'm not really one to brag)...</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I once got hit by a car while crossing a street (it was going about 30mph) and even after flying up in to the air, on to the hood, and then, as you'd expect, back off the hood and on to the street again (where I started the whole journey in the first place, albeit upright), I still had both my suit coat and my briefcase in my hands. [I'd like to thank all of my former football coaches who drilled "HOLD ON TO THE BALL!" in to my head..and hands.]</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I once went 18 years without ever vomitting. Seriously. And I never did that "do everything you can to hold it in" kind of thing either. I just didn't vomit. Guess I never needed to.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I broke that afrementioned vomitting streak by vomitting about four times in six months. Yeah, but, so what's the big deal....sometimes people just need to vomit, ok?</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I once was accused (in high school) of having someone else write an English paper for me. And the teacher was basing it on the fact that my name was signed differently. Um...it's called high school, when you're trying to figure sh** out like all the cool ways to sign your name. Oh, and Mister English Teacher , I AM THE VALEDICTORIAN of my class!! Who in the h**l am I going to trust to write my paper for me!!! (Sometimes people just need to think things through.)</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I have had out of body experiences, numerous encounters with ghosts, and lots of other paranormal freaky-deaky stuff. And franky, while that kind of sounds cool on one hand, at times it freaked the sh** out of me.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I have never seen a UFO or, to my knowledge, been abducted by aliens. Which you might find surprising.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Anyway, there are lots more, but the point is this...today on Yahoo! News I saw a headline about the birthday of the oldest person with a blog. They turned 108 years old. Congratulations! But are you kidding me? I mean, I commend that individual...on both their longevity, and on their blogging (Oct 10th: can't poop today, had sugar and butter on bread for lunch). But is it really Yahoo! News headline worthy???? And if so, I invite ALL of YOU to celebrate your lives in the same manner. In the history of the world you are all special and unique. At least as unique as that individual. So celebrate like you're a Yahoo! News story today...and if you are so inclined, tell people why you are so special.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">On to other issues...I sometimes mention my schedule, and how busy I am, right?</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Ok, so, you know those things you get in your email from friends, and it's the whole "questionnaire of things that define you" thing? Dog person or cat person? Bacon bits or croutons? Favorite drink? Etc etc.. And you're suppose to fill it out and send it on to everyone else? (Sidenote: you ARE a Yahoo! News story today, so if you've received one of those recently today would be a good day to fill it out and send it on to everyone you know!) Well, you know that question that says "Who is the person least likely to send this back"? I've received about four of those questionnaires in the last week, all from different, unrelated people, and in ALL cases they put "Tim".</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">How sad that I've gone from an email junkie to the person least likely to respond. Humph.</span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-12801873983089170712007-10-16T22:06:00.000-07:002007-10-16T22:30:17.130-07:00Pouring<span style="font-size:85%;">I was tempted to title this post "Madness"...but that would just be accentuating the negative. So instead, I went with a recent event of intellectual interest...</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">What is it with the whole "when it rains it pours" thing? And I'm not talking about table salt here (Why was that girl carrying the salt under her arm like that, anyway? What was she thinking?). I'm talking about the phenomenon of "similar things happening in bunches".</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I can probably say with a fair amount of confidence that every one has had this kind of experience at least once. Most of us probably experience it on a fairly regular basis. But what is it, exactly?</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I don't buy the simple statistics answer, and I'm even an actuary by trade. I don't buy it because there is something organic about it...something "living"...something that transcends the "coldness" of objective chance. To write it off as a statistical event is just a convenient way for the logical part of our minds to be done with it so as not to damage our deep sense of needing to understand things.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">So if we can accept that it might be something other than that, how strange the possibilities become! Does it happen TO us, specifically? Or does it just HAPPEN, in the Universe, and sometimes we just happen to be the ones that it happens to? Or do we somehow bring a little bit of it on ourselves by our state of mind? It does seem possible that if you had some things come up in your life, good or bad, your reaction to those things could put you in an psychological/energetic space more likely to attract even more things just like it.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">At any rate, without going deeper in to it, it's odd. And yet seemingly so universal.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The madness is the schedule. Mine. Seriously. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In fact, I am so tired right now that all of the fun little thoughts I had planned on writing about have either slipped thru the cracks of my consciousness or I've lost the ability to creatively express the ones that I still remember.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Am I even making sense right now? Ugh. That's a problem, huh? I guess I will have to continue this some other time.</span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-86292757242177310392007-10-13T10:31:00.000-07:002007-10-13T10:46:45.705-07:00Anew<span style="font-size:85%;">This morning at 6:37am, the exact time of my birth (adjusted for the fact that it was 8:37am Central time, where I was born) I was urinating.<br /><br />I don't mention that to show how "mundane" life has become...that at a particularly significant time on a particularly significant day I was reduced to pissing. Not at all. Nor do I mention it to demonstrate a weird coincidence (seeing as how my mother had called just five minutes earlier to leave me a birthday voicemail...thereby waking me and allowing the "urge" to rise up in to my consciousness, it can hardly be a "coincidence" in the way that we normally define the word). I mention it because I knew it. That is, I was aware of it. The whole thing. I was conscious of the fact that it was the day and time of my birth and that I was urinating.<br /><br />Awareness will be a theme. Please remain awake.<br /><br />This morning Seattle is covered in a deep, deep fog. With visibility of only a couple of hundred of feet it's easy to turn inward. The volume on all of the outside stimulants that our senses are normally tuned in to is turned down, making it easier to hear what's going on inside. That blanket of introspection has always been something I've treasured. That turning inside. Fog is nature's forward bend...the asana of self-reflection.<br /><br />So it seems appropriate that today be the day that the new path is tread. That the footsteps I take in the next fews days, the next few hours, lead in the direction that I want to go, and not just continue in the direction from which I've come</span>. <span style="font-size:85%;">How consistent I am at documenting all of this, of course, remains to be seen. But be assured that the intention is there. And if you find me suddenly wandering away from that place of awareness, please be so kind as to nudge me gently.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">That's not to say that awareness is only about sublime Zen-like moments. In fact, here is my un-Zen-like, ego-based thought for the morning.... it's frustrating that I can go out and run a 5:44 mile without any training (like I did yesterday) and yet I can't go out for a jog around the lake. For me, and my own particular situation and constitution, injuries seem to be the great spiritual mirror...reflecting my own inner state back to me...sometimes not always in a very attractive fashion. But I guess it's all a part of what life is...grist for the mill. Or as Rilke said, "living the answers" to the questions of Life.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">And so my life flows....</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-1166577030430898662006-12-19T17:05:00.000-08:002006-12-19T17:10:30.430-08:00A (nother) Beginning<span style="font-size:85%;">Ok, so, it's clear that I didn't keep up on the blogging very well from the summer.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">That's all about to change though. Or maybe it won't. It will depend on whether I feel like I have anything interesting to say. Or, if so, whether I have the time to type it all out.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Lots of things on the "life plate" though, so stay tuned...</span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17874944.post-1152058105030959252006-07-04T16:36:00.000-07:002006-07-04T17:08:25.163-07:00I Know Why the Nettle Stings<span style="font-size:85%;">I don't, actually. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Know why it stings, I mean. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">But I DO know that it DOES sting. Or at least I know that whatever I grabbed ahold of in Discovery Park to fix my bike stings, because my fingers are still "buzzing" with that "needle-y" kind of pain.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Should I cut an X in my skin and try to suck out the poison?</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Wait, before I leap to any incisions, let me back up... two days ago I decided to run some stairs, followed by sprints. My hips felt pretty tight, and I could tell that it was affecting my ROM (and thus tugging on my lumbar spine), but for the most part they went ok. About 4-5 hours a later, however, I noticed that my left knee was bothering me. In fact, most movements became a little uncomfortable. That same discomfort was present today, so rather than going for a run (I don't think I could have done it even if I had wanted to), I decided to take my bike out for a ride. Keep in mind that this is a 13 year old bike. Not in the best of shape. I've taken it to the gym and back, and around the neighborhood a bit, but that's about it. Today I decided I was going to ride out to Discovery Park.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The trip out there was pleasant and rather uneventful. However, on my way back up the hill in the park I noticed a scraping sound. At first I thought that my little foot clips were on the bottom side of the pedal (instead of my foot being in them), but I quickly noticed that they were no longer securely attached and were dragging on the street every time I pedaled around. Trying to be as creative as possible I started looking for things to stick through the holes so that it would stay attached to the pedal. The little twig worked momentarily but in very short time the clip popped off again. That's when I decided to find something to tie in through the hole.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">You would think, with all the strong, fibrous plants out there, that it wouldn't have taken long to find something with enough strength to hold the clip to the pedal. You would also think that I would have noticed that the first thing I picked up had thorns on it. On the contrary. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">It's hard to say whether it was that, or the next couple of things I plucked from the ground that really did the damage. My eyes were looking for something strong enough to hold a knot and I wasn't really paying attention to anything else. Not that I would have known what it looked like anyway. All I know for sure is that right now, as I type, my index and middle fingers on my left hand are throbbing in a pin-prick-ness kind of way.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Moreover, not only did I not find a plant with the required tensile strength, I also seemed to become fully aware at how muggy and buggy it was right there where I stopped. Irritation mounting, I took the clip completely off the pedal and tied it on to my crossbar. THEN, with that issue temporarily resolved, I got to resume my climb up that big a$$ hill. Ugh.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">What is it with cycling, anyway? It's not that I didn't work hard on my ride. I kept up a decent pace, and I pushed it hard on climbs, and I was huffing and puffing intermittantly...but when it was all said and done, I didn't feel very taxed. Certainly not like I do after a run.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I guess a heart rate monitor is my only solution. Need to see exactly what's going on. The feedback will be useful because I have a couple of clients who cycle quite a bit and are disappointed that they aren't losing that much weight. Hmmmmm...</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Two sidenotes: One, I have to give a deposition on Thursday. I've been called as a witness in a trial. I wasn't all that stressed about it, but the lawyer I talked to is making me watch a tape on depositions. He wants me to see all of the "tricks" they're going to use. Tricks? Great. Secondly, when I went in to the aforementioned lawyer's office on Friday afternoon I realized, once again, how SOOOO happy I am to not be working in that kind of business environment anymore. Those veal-fattening pens and flourescent lighting and re-circulated stale air posing as air conditioning. Ick.</span>Tim Sinnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13565808628331099853noreply@blogger.com0