Some of us run with folks like Jory Des Jardins and some of us can only (for now) aspire to their adventures. Guess I sort of fall into that latter category. Perhaps I’m still basking in the afterglow of the big adventure that brought me and my family to Texas, but I’ve been less than daring in taking in new life experiences lately.

This morning, though, I find myself reinvigorated and ready to seek out some new adventures. My inspiration comes from Jory’s latest post where she talks about some of her own internal conflicts with seeking out real life adventure. But then she launches into her past month and reveals that – a trip to glamorous Monaco notwithstanding – her everyday life is actually rather adventurous.

There are two types of adventure we can seek out in our lives. The first is the grand version, which is what we usually equate to adventure. This is the bold backpacking trip through Costa Rica, sailing the Greek Isles, rafting the Gauley River in West Virginia, or just packing the car and setting off for a yet-unknown destination. These are experiences out of the normal flow of life. And for many of us who actually have responsibilities like jobs and children, these grand adventures are few and far between. That doesn’t mean they’re out of reach, they just may not happen as often as we’d like.

The second type of adventure can be found in the everyday. These experiences are accessible to each of us, it just requires more imagination and a willingness to think differently about what adventure really is. For me, adventure is about seeking out something new with some element of risk involved. It should get my heart pounding and evoke feelings of excitement and yes…a little fear. The everyday experience may then be chatting with a stranger (I’m kinda shy so this does get my heart racing a bit), volunteering for a meals-on-wheels drive (something I’ve never done before), or submitting an article I’ve been working on for magazine publication (I have no idea if my stuff is good enough). Those are a few of my examples…what about you?

Thanks Jory for the inspiration. And for you…what adventure can you get yourself into in the next 30 days? Any adventures – both grand and everyday – which have had a meaningful impact on your own life lately?

I heard a great story the other day which emphasizes how important our actions are…even when we think we’re not actually doing anything important. It involves the infamous Ice Bowl football game between the Dallas Cowboys and Green Bay Packers for the 1967 NFL Championship.

This games isn’t referred to as “the Ice Bowl” for nothing. It was played at Lambeau Field in Green Bay, Wisconsin in December. The gametime temperature was -13F degrees (-25C) with a windchill driving the temperature down to -48F degrees (-44C) making it the coldest NFL game on record. It was so cold that referees couldn’t use their whistles because they froze to their lips. To this day, some players still say they suffer from the effects of frostbite. It wasn’t just cold, it was bone-numbingly frigid. So, you can forgive some players for doing all they could to try and stay warm.

In the end, Green Bay won in dramatic fashion as Bart Starr scored the winning touchdown with 16 seconds left. One key to their win came from the actions of a Dallas player, Bob Hayes, who was a wide receiver and considered one of the fastest men alive. Turns out his hands were cold (remember this is before players started wearing gloves) so when a run play was called, he shoved his hands in his pockets before the snap. When he did this, he communicated that he wasn’t going out for a pass and unwittingly tipped the Green Bay defense to play the run.

What’s interesting about this story is that it offers an example of how we influence the action around us, even when we’re not actually a part of the action itself. Everything is connected and we’re never truly out of the play…no matter if we think we don’t have a role in the action.

Fer all ye aspiring pirates out there (and ye know who ye are), today is yer day. It’s International Talk Like A Pirate Day. It’s a day to put aside all yer worries, grab ye sword, tell a merry yarn to your best mates, and make some landlubbers walk the plank (I think ye call them managers). Now, maybe ye ain’t sure if ye have what it takes to be a pirate. Arrr…it’s easy.

First, ye start by singing a right jaunty tune. Me mate Cap’n Tom Smith has written a ditty to celebrate our day called Talk Like A Pirate Day. ‘Ere’s a start to help ye along:

Yo, Ho, Yo, Ho,
It’s “Talk Like A Pirate” Day!
When laptops are benches God gave us fer wenches,
And a sail ain’t a low price ta pay!
When timbers are shivered and lillies are livered
And every last buckle is swashed,
We’ll abandon our cars for a shipfull of ARRRs
And pound back the grog till we’re sloshed! Yo ho….

Ye can sing the whole tune.

Remember…any pirate needs a good pirate name. If ye need some help (or your crew insists on calling ye Ole Blackbutt or Cap’n Chumbucket), then thar be help fer ye. Fer instance, it helped me take the fine pirate name of Dirty Harry Rackham. It even told me what this fine name means:

You’re the pirate everyone else wants to throw in the ocean — not to get rid of you, you understand; just to get rid of the smell. You have the good fortune of having a good name, since Rackham (pronounced RACKem, not rack-ham) is one of the coolest sounding surnames for a pirate. Arr!

So, get off yer duff, swash yer buckle, and plunder yonder villages. Take pride in being a pirate today. Or you’ll be sent down to Davy Jones’ Locker.

Irish blogger and friend, Annette Clancy, went and tagged me last week. I don’t always play infotag because I feel like I tapped so much in my original 100+ things. But it’s been a while since I put that together (way back in 2004 and it’s age shows) so…why don’t we add to it and call it the 2007 Texas-style Collection. Yeehaw!

1. I’ve never seen a live armadillo in the wild. Seen plenty of dead ones. I’m still hopeful.
2. I haven’t seen a tarantula, scorpion, or rattlesnake in the wild, either. Friends who live further out in the country tell me they’re around.
3. Yes, I’m a bit weird for wanting to see crawly creatures. I get by with the lizards and frogs that inhabit our backyard.
4. After living in Texas, I honestly don’t think I can ever live on the east coast again. There’s just a slower vibe here that agrees with me.
5. I’ve always wanted a truck and am hoping to buy a black Honda Ridgeline in the next year or so. I might just buy a fishing boat to go with it within the next five years.
6. I enjoy bowling (even have my own ball) and love the fact that it’s still alive and well here. There are times on the weekends when you have to wait 30 minutes for a lane to open. Great family fun.
7. I never had eaten a kolache before arriving in Texas. Now, I can’t get enough of them.
8. And breakfast tacos…now those are tasty eats! There’s nothing quite like eggs, tomatoes, and avocado wrapped in a tortilla first thing in the morning.
9. Our family has a season pass to Sea World in San Antonio and it’s a pretty fun place to visit with the kids. The dolphin and orca shows are well done, there’s a neat play area that’s even adult friendly, and you can feed the seals and sea lions. Oh and did I mention they have roller coasters?
10. Places in Texas that I really want to visit: Galveston, Fort Worth and the Cowboy Hall of Fame, and Big Bend National Park.

Now this is where I tend to get a bit shy. I hate openly asking folks for their eight things so here’s what I’m going to do. I know there are probably readers who haven’t commented (or others who haven’t commented in a while). So, here’s my request: post 1 thing that’s new about you this year. It could be something new you’ve learned, a new food you tried, a new place you visited, or anything else you’d like to share. Go ahead…run with it.

It’s spring break for my girls and what better way to spend it but at Disney World in Orlando, Florida. This will be Leah’s second trip and Katie’s first to the Magic Kingdom. This will be my third trip (first as a 7 year old, second and third as an adult) and it’s interesting to experience it again. It’s during this trip that I’m finally enjoying the park for what it is: a place where magic can happen. Yeah, I know…that’s rather naive and counter to the cynical notion of the corporate artificiality of Disney. But, magic can happen if we allow it.

As a kid, I remember being enchanted by the Swiss Family Treehouse located in Adventureland. What young boy wouldn’t want to live in a huge treehouse? Now, as an adult, I tried to relive that magic, but it was strange. The whole experience was just climbing steps to the top and seeing the Robinson’s sleeping quarters, a dining room, and a sitting room. I kept wondering if that was all there was. And for me, that was really all there was.

This morning, my wife got an email from a friend of hers who lives with multiple sclerosis. In their communication, Caroline mentioned that we climbed the Swiss Family Treehouse and her friend offered a whole new perspective on this place in the Magic Kingdom. Turns out that she was told she couldn’t climb the treehouse due to her condition. She laughed and replied that that was all she needed to hear. She got out of her wheelchair, slowly climbed to the top, took a few minutes to savor her personal victory, and then slowly descended to the bottom.

I can’t help but see that treehouse in a whole new light.

One of my daily reads is ProBlogger simply for Darren Rowse’s terrific advice for how to blog better. I’m in the process of implementing many of his tips so be on the lookout for some improvements in the next few weeks.

One of Darren’s posts yesterday caught my attention, not because of his blogging advice, but because of a more powerful reminder about what to do when you get some hate and anger thrown in your direction. Consider this insight that Darren gained from a Buddhist monk:

When someone attacks you with anger and hatred say to them:
“thank you for your ‘gift’ – but I think you can keep it for yourself.”

It is easy to take on the anger of other people and to wear it as a burden of your own but it is usually unhealthy to do so.

Anger and hatred directed at you by another person is their anger and hatred and not yours. While they may wish for you to take it upon yourself – ultimately it’s a ‘gift’ that would be better not received.

I tend to have strong empathic qualities. If a co-worker, customer, or my wife gets angry, I sometimes have difficulty not getting wrapped up in their emotions. But remembering that the emotion is theirs to own and give away and I have a choice as to whether I accept it is a liberating concept.

The BBC had an interesting article yesterday called Why are Dutch children so happy? that went on to explain why the Netherlands was at the top of a recently published Child Wellbeing Report produced by UNICEF. (By the way, the United States – perhaps unsurprisingly – rates pretty much near the bottom compared to Europe and Canada). The lead-in to the article reads:

Dutch children have been rated the most fortunate children in Europe. Their parents go out of their way to please them, and teachers expect less of them than some of their European counterparts.

Well, that’s not exactly how the UNICEF report portrays the Netherlands, but does raise some interesting questions when we think not only about our own children (regardless of which country you call home) but own lives at work. How much is our own happiness tied to having things go our way? Can there be happiness in our challenges and struggles?

Let’s take this example from the BBC article:

18-year-old Ysbrand, a student in Helmond near Eindhoven, says this picture matched his childhood. He says that his parents spent a lot of time with him when he was younger. His mother stayed at home while his father worked.

But, he said the contrast when you get to 18 can be something of a shock.

“Now I’m left to look after myself,” he told the BBC News website. “My parents say that I need to care for myself and to be independent. It’s hard. I don’t have much money as a student and to go out is expensive. Beer, for example, is very expensive in the Netherlands.”

By focusing on what will make us happy right now, we postpone possible future pain. Not that we shouldn’t aim for joy in our life, but we need to be honest with ourselves and consider whether our present experience – even if it does suck – won’t make us a better person down the road. Sometimes we need to unhappy in order to learn how to be happy. I can certainly remember painful experiences in my life that were hellish in their own special way, but in reflection I’m so glad that they were my experiences. I wouldn’t be half the person I am today without them.

And I hope this doesn’t seem like I’m picking on the Dutch. Frankly, I don’t think the example of Ysbrand above is all that different from some of the experiences I’ve seen from fellow parents here in the U.S. The desire to coddle and over-protect kids transcends borders and culture.

Today, we’re challenged to look at our own happiness and determine whether that happiness is real or is simply deferring pain for another time. Ask whether that graduate degree that might be challenging and even painful to undertake might lead to a better tomorrow for you. Ask whether the pain of quitting your job might not be the first step toward finding your own soulful work. Remember that happiness sometimes means taking the hard and painful path.

Be well.

Things have been chaotic and emotional for our family over the past week. On Monday, my wife’s grandfather, J.W. Starr (known to his grandkids and great-grandkids affectionately as Papop), died at age 85 after a very sudden diagnosis of terminal cancer. Turns out the cancer had been incubating silently within him for a while only to make it’s full presence known at the end. The time from when we first heard the heartbreaking news to the moment he died was less than a week.

Fortunately, my wife scheduled a flight a couple of days before he died and arrived in time to see him and hold his hand one last time. Shortly after he died on Monday, Caroline called me and told me to pack up the kids for the 1000 mile drive from Austin to Albany, GA.

That long drive-time in the car sparked an internal dialogue and reflection on Papop’s remarkable life and the wonderful legacy he left for all of us. He taught us so many lessons just through his simple actions. He modeled the values he felt were most important without ever needing to preach. He gave us the blessing of showing us how to live.

Have the courage to follow your faith even when it may not make sense to others
When he was in his early twenties, Papop volunteered for the military and fought in World War II as a bomber pilot in the Pacific. But before he completed his pilot training, he made the fateful decision to propose to and marry the love of his life, Mary Smith (who we all now call Mimi). Mimi held on to the letter that Papop sent to his own parents announcing his intentions and in that letter he acknowledged that their decision to marry may not make sense to their parents. In particular, Mimi’s parents reasonably feared that she might find herself a war widow before their first anniversary. However, Papop had faith that this was the right decision and knew that it was their love that would bring him home safely. Papop and Mimi were married for 62 years and their relationship is known in our family as “The Great Romance.” Together, they offered a model of what a strong marriage is for all who knew them.

It’s never too late to find your passion
One of Papop’s great legacies is his artwork. His paintings can be found in each family member’s home as well as the homes of art collectors throughout Georgia. He primarily painted landscape scenes of his life: the beaches, lowlands, and marshes of South Carolina and Georgia. As we sorted through some of his unframed works in his attic studio this week, we also discovered some lesser known works, such as portraits and still-life. The amazing thing is that this passion didn’t come out until he was much older. When we asked Mimi about how Papop started painting, she told us a story that surprised all of us. When she was a schoolteacher she had to grade papers. At that time, Papop enjoyed watching television, but it was distracting to her papergrading. So Mimi bought him some paints and brushes and hoped that this less noisy diversion would keep him busy. Turns out it not only kept him busy, but unleashed a vibrant yet untapped talent that inspired him throughout the rest of his life.

Soulful work can last a lifetime
After returning from WWII, Papop continued his education by getting a Master’s degree in Social Work and served as the Director of The Family Service in High Point, NC and then worked for the Federal Probationary Office in Macon, GA. Eventually, he and Mimi came to Albany, GA in 1952 and there he worked in his father’s typewriter sales business. Not too long ago, he retired, but continued to work in the Career Development Office of a local college. He often told us that his work helping young college students figure out their future plans was the most fulfilling work that he had ever done. Papop also gave his time to his church community that meant so much to him. For Papop, work wasn’t something to be shunned or avoided, but something that gave meaning to his life. It was his way of sharing the blessings he had with others.

These are just highlights. Putting Papop’s life into a brief retrospective is nearly impossible, though my sister-in-law managed to do this in what must be one of the all-time great eulogies ever delivered.

We talk about living a full life with no regrets. We talk about how to live in service to others. We talk about leaving a legacy behind us. It’s a blessing to encounter a role model who shows us how to do these things with grace, love, and humility. By reflecting on their lives, we’re challenged to find the magic in each day, to give far more than we get in return, to be the type of individual who makes a positive impact on each person they encounter. One way of thinking about Papop that has stayed with me is that it didn’t matter whether you knew him for an hour or a lifetime, he left a lasting impression that made you want to be a better person.

We all miss him and were blessed to know him.

John Walter Starr (1922-2007)

I’ve been a rather delinquent blogger lately and that’s been weighing heavily on me. Actually, kind of stressing me out. But I don’t think this is just a case of blog guilt…it seems to go deeper than that. It’s a feeling that I’ve been letting myself down, that I’ve been letting some of my own dreams and aspirations flitter away. There’s also a feeling that I’ve been ignoring some wonderful friends and not keeping up my end of our relationships. For the past few months, I haven’t been able to consciously figure out this block, but I sure have felt it in the pit of my stomach. Every time, that dark feeling has voiced this question: If the ideas behind Bailey WorkPlay (including this blog) and my relationships are so damn important, why am I unable to care for them anymore?

I haven’t been sleeping well lately and last night was no exception. I tossed and turned, not really able to fully relax. But somewhere in that strange state of twilight sleep I heard another voice which simply said: Be patient with yourself. Undoubtedly, my subconscious was able to break through the logjam and offer the help that my conscious mind could not. That was a few hours ago and I’ve been awake and contemplating the message ever since. All of which leads me to some insights that I hope find some resonance for you, too.

The harder we try to do something or the tighter we try to hold on to an idea, the more amorphous it can become. For me, I’ve been clinging to the notion that I should be able to do everything at the same level of intensity while forgetting that so much has actually changed in my life. New work, new home, a whole new zip code that’s 1500 miles from where I used to be. Change is good, but it can lead to unrealistic expectations of ourselves…an impatience when we don’t adapt immediately.

If you find yourself in full self-flagellation mode, give yourself permission to be patient. Be mindful of the ideas to which you’re rigidly clinging and get curious about what might happen if you released your grip even just a little. And consider a short mantra to help you through. Here’s mine for today:

Here I am. Being patient with me. Listening to my true inner voice. Knowing that I can restart again. Small acts are okay. Being patient with my humanness.

Be well and be patient.

Yep, I’m returning from a long, but much needed hiatus and feeling all the better for it. It’s amazing what a little change in scenery can do. In our case, we exchanged the go-go-go hyperdrive environment of Washington DC for the (relatively) laidback pace of Austin TX. Sometimes our body, soul, and mind just needs a fresh start.

So, here I am…new work, new home, new commitment to living completely. All that includes a renewed sense of purpose for Bailey WorkPlay and The Alchemy of Soulful Work starting with a site redesign. If you’re reading from Bloglines or another rss reader, come and take a look (c’mon, click here…I didn’t do all that work for nothing). In addition to what’s already there, I’ll be adding in some cool functionality that should add to the reading experience.

Friends and readers, sorry I’ve been gone for so long…it’s good to be back. Again, we all take this journey together. Let’s be the heroes and heroines of our adventures.