35 posts tagged with "Letters"

“Sometimes it’s just as valuable knowing what you don’t want to do.” -Dr. Amy Kruse, former DARPA program manager Look, excellence doesn’t transfer. It’s a common mistake to think it does, and one that many SOF vets make.

I know, I know, you were an excellent soldier. You were a medic, or sniper, or intel guy, or drone pilot. You worked for Orange, or Green, or Blue, or Black or whatever they’re calling themselves now. Your CV lists all the impressive credentials you have: Leadership experience, 18 Delta, weapons authority, driving expert, PSD, dive supervisor, Tac Air, and on and on.

Now you’re out and faced with a tripartite quandary: First, contracting is the same thing you’ve already done with slightly different rules, higher pay, and less stability. It’s nothing more than a transition job and you know it. Second, you’re overqualified for jobs you know how to do. Third, you believe you’re woefully uncredentialed for the work you want to explore. You (believe you) were excellent and now you’re nothing. Excellence didn’t transfer. So, here you are, wandering in the wilderness of your post military time. You yearn for a clear mission and a community of pipe-hitters in the civilian world. You wonder why you got out, why your skills aren’t valued in this new world. This new world requires a willingness to stretch your mind into unexplored territory, an acceptance and embracement of mistakes. Many of the mistakes you’ll have to make yourself. It’s how most of us are wired; we don’t believe it until we experience it. You were a superb soldier, so you’re not used to making mistakes. Failing at anything is likely to be foreign to you. The military cultivates a “success” mindset of 4.0 evals. This is reflected in achieving safe perfection over imperfect learning. Hidden in that perfection mentality is the source of your future success: You have been taught and programmed by one of the most effective mind-shaping organizations that ever existed to pursue excellence. The mistake many veterans make is to confuse the value of their hard skills, like shooting fast or coordinating comms between 9 different assets, with their value as a human. Those hard skills have little value in the civilian world, and the realization that you’ve spent years perfecting skills that no longer matter can be crushing. While the skills don’t transfer, the method absolutely does. Your experience of the method of building skills from non-existent to mastered is the biggest advantage you have over most of the rest of the civilian world. The extraordinary bonus is that pursuing excellence creates stoked humans, no matter where on the path they are. The idea of exploring unknown territory is equally as crucial as applying your ability to pursue excellence. When you begin to explore unknown territory and pursue excellence, you’ll discover in your mistakes the deep value of knowing what you don’t want to do. Knowing our dislikes creates a healthy contrast that increases our pleasure in those work environments we enjoy. At this point, with you out of the military and being unsure of your next step, the specific directions I can helpfully give you become less and less accurate; what worked for me may not work for you. The mistakes I made in learning that excellence doesn’t transfer were extensive and at times nearly mortal, but individually are of little use to you. The dream I have and have had will almost certainly not be yours. Still, if you can acknowledge the existence of your own dream and apply yourself to producing excellence, knowing that someone else has engaged successfully on the same quest you’ll get much further down the road then by remaining ignorant of it. At our end of service, we vets walk out into the wilderness of civilian life. The maps we’re provided to navigate this wilderness don’t always match the territory. For many of us, the only information on the part of the map we must explore is the same phrase that thrilled the heart of many an adventurer before us: “Here be dragons.” Many of us have wandered this wilderness before. You are not alone, though you will feel alone much of the time. Others are out here, shining a light in the dark. We have found a place to clear a patch of forest and build a house of excellence, to lay down roads to other clearings, to begin to understand the new wilderness we inhabit. You can do the same, and if we veterans are to build the next, brighter version of the world we wish to inhabit, we share the responsibility to develop that world using the tools we’ve been given of learning to achieve excellence.

No, it wasn't on purpose. I went to go pick up dry ice in my little car.  I paid for it in the office while a nice fellow loaded 100 lbs of it into the back of the hatchback. I got in the car, closed the doors, turned on the A/C & drove off.  The dry ice shop is in the Point Loma area and our office is 15 highway minutes south, just south of downtown, in Barrio Logan. I called Lee via the magic of bluetooth and the car stereo link and was going through what we had to do biz-wise that day, but I felt a bit breathless.  Weird, because even though I'm not in ultra-marathon shape I'm not out of shape, and I certainly don't feel breathless often. Talking with Lee, it got worse.  It wasn't like I was fighting for breath, it just felt like I couldn't finish my sentences. I'm trying to focus on my conversation with Lee, but it's hard to finish sentences, to even think.  I know something's wrong and getting worse, but what is it?  I'm healthy, godddammit! There's a part of me that thinks it's drinking too much coffee that morning; 2 cups instead of 1.  No, that can't be right.  What else could it be?  Something is wrong, work the problem Nik. Feeling the prickling of sweat prior to blackout, the kind you feel when you stand up suddenly after laying down for a while.  On the highway, rolling at 70.  Something is seriously wrong, think, Nik, THINK! I needed time.  To think.  The world.  started.  to.  close.  in. Breathing shallow, like when you turn the O2 off on a Draeger, shallow puffs, darkness closing in, you CAN NOT pass out on the highway NIK, THINK GODDAMNIT! Stop trying to talk with Lee and figure out your life, NOW.  This is getting worse, not better.  You've got less than 30 seconds and you don't know it.  What the fuck?  Be cool.  What the fuck!!?  Calm, work the problem.  Wait, Draeger, shallow breathing, O2.... CO2!  It's the CO2, it's the 100 lbs of dry ice sublimating in the back.  You idiot!  Just as the first heavy wave of nausea and faintness hits and my head bobs I get the windows down. Air rushes in and I raise my head.  That's it!  Just hold on, dammnit! Now I'm focused, I know what the problem is, I can solve it, just have to hang on.  Dizzy.  Deep breaths out the window, hand out focusing the air into my face & mouth.  Breathe deep the air, my friend.  Today, you live. The nausea passes, the faintness fades.  No horns honking, no cars swerving, nobody even noticed.  I tell Lee what happened.  She (rightly) thinks I'm an idiot.  I'm no longer breathless.  I hang up the phone via the steering wheel controls. Off at the exit, windows still down. What the fuck?  Did that really just happen?  Was I really that stupid?  I've driven with dry ice in the car before with the windows up, why this time? END Lessons learned: -Don't be a fucking idiot with dry ice, make sure you have enough air to breathe.  Shit. -Dry ice sublimates MUCH faster when it's single wrapped; this was a new place to buy from, the old place double wrapped it and taped it. -You don't always get to choose when you have the rest of your life to figure out a problem.  Learn to stay cool even when you're freaking out. -Don't ignore small problems.  They can get big so fast you won't have time to solve them. -The deadliest danger can be where you least expect it.  Picking up dry ice for your business can be just as lethal as running around Syria waving a US flag if you're not paying attention.  Death doesn't care where she finds you. -Be thankful that you live, and remember you've only got one chance sometimes.  Remember to enjoy the warmth of the sun, the coolness of morning mist as you walk the dogs, a kiss from your wife, the breaks that do go your way. All's well that ends well, thought you would dig my brush with death via the cookie business.  Stay safe out there! Big heart, NFH

Brooks Kubik is an intelligent contributor to the Iron Game.  He offers a daily email newsletter that covers what's going on with him as well as his thoughts on training. He recently sent out an email about the power of one, and how many of the world's top performers; athletes, businessmen and women, and artists do some of their best training alone.  Here's my response: A man is only a man if he lives by his own lights, curious though they may be to others. Working physically alone, whether lifting, running, or sailing, has delivered many of my formative and peak experiences.  Alone there is no one else to blame in failure and no one else who can claim the victory; both are deeply deserved and heartily felt. For many, the haunting ache of no audience is too harsh; for those of us who live for that fleeting and wild cry found only in the silence of one, the power of "alone" is the backbone of our existence. It reminds me of a quote from the foreword to Lord Grizzly, by Frederick Manfred: "I don't mind [being alone] because I'm part bear, grizzly bear.  Grizzlies, male grizzlies particularly, like to be alone a lot--and the older they get the more they are alone.  But perhaps more importantly, if you're going to do anything creatively, whether it's in architecture, or writing novels, or sculpture, you can't be spending your time in the presence of other people if you want to really explore your ideas." Effort, real physical effort, is for many of our lonely tribe an exploration of ideas.  Can I?  Will I?  Must I?  How we choose to answer it differs only in form, not reason, and we know, deep in each of our hearts, that the only answer to carry us forward is Yes. With thanks for the reminder of the Power of One, NFH

Ed note: This is a guest post by my good friend CR, it was his response to a letter. You're 46ish, yes?  How are you holding up physically? Yes, I think I'm 46. I'm kind of hesitant to state an age any more, because I feel like I should start acting that age at some point, and that seems limiting. I like answering with whatever age I feel that I am for that day. Sometimes like I'm 37, and sometimes like I guess I'll feel at 72. That said, I'm seeing guys absolutely crush it in their late 50's and 60's. Ron J (Ron-bo), Teton ranger skied last year at the World XC races. Renny J is still going really long and really hard in the Tetons, and just went back to guiding for Exum and to ski patrolling at Jackson Hole, after leaving both those professions for a career in the NPS, which he retired from. My knees hurt sometimes and my back gets tight. I had a shoulder problem earlier this year, but found that if I just keep pushing myself up to the point of pain, making myself do pushups, big arm swings with weights, and pullups, that the shoulder totally loosened up and is becoming strong again. I'm really liking Barleans Fish Oil, high dose Key Lime flavor. MR turned me on to it. I also think Glucosamine really helps me. What are you doing for conditioning? When I got the dog I went away from CF. Now I basically just go out and try to cover ground. Either XC skiing, mtn running, hiking, or working outside.  Overseas, I'm rowing, skipping rope, box jumps, lots of body weight stuff (pullups, pushups, squats) but trying to make it more fun and challenging too. Jumping onto boxes with one foot and having to balance one footed while standing up. Jumping onto boxes backwards. Jumping longer distances and landing on a box. KB swings where the bell has to do a rotation and be caught with the other hand on every throw. I guess I'm just tired of doing straight, boring strength work. It's so much more helpful to have some kind of game to play or activity that takes some coordination and skill. I was way into standing on a balance board and doing goblet squats, or tossing a med ball, etc. I'd also do a self made obstacle course, free running thing within the compound. Climbing walls, jumping gaps, running the tops of barriers, etc. 30 or 40 min of that was good. Other times I'd just run laps outside, usually a fast paced lap, followed by a recovery lap. Started playing ping pong again on this last trip and it was super helpful for hand eye coordination and mushin stuff while under pressure. Also really good to think through tactics while playing and allow the other guy space to make mistakes. Do you follow a program or are you doing a "salad bar"? I'm not following a program. I think programming (especially if set by other people), can be great, because it forces you to work on your weakness. If you are following a program, what is it? Guys at work are doing GymJones, Mtn Athlete, Tactical Athlete, CF, etc. It's interesting though, I'll go into the mtns with MR and he'll have been training CF consistently and I'll have zero issues moving with him, so I think my lifestyle is working for me. As you have aged, how has that effected your capacities? I don't run as fast as I used to, and I'm not as strong as I used to be (as if I ever was), but my head is much stronger. I don't get nearly as excited as I used to. I've seen so much more now and it's much easier to use a past experience to make a good decision for what I'm currently facing. Whether that's winning a race. Performing near my max heart rate. Backing out of a bad situation. Violently moving into a situation. Interesting to me how LAPD SWAT always has a number of guys in their late 40's to late 50's. Those are the guys that everyone looks to when things get hairy. Those are the guys that typically stay icy calm when it gets exciting and steady the rest of the crew. If your capacities have changed, how have you adapted your training to address those changes? I have to play smarter now. Less emotion more brain, or as one friend described himself "I'm less berserker now, more sniper." When I'm training physically, I listen to my body more. Yes, it's still important to push, but also to rest and SUPER IMPORTANT not to injure yourself while training. I can push through the pain, but if I get injured then I'm done working/training for a bit. NH, super athlete and probably 10 years younger, is only working out two days in a row before taking a rest day and is still seeing great growth and no injury. As you have matured and gained more experience, do you feel that things have slowed down for you compared to a younger CR or when compared to younger operators? I have less nervous energy now. I can focus for longer periods of time and see bigger projects through to completion. That energy feels a bit slower, and not as excited or agitated, but it lets me get a lot more done. I'm really focused on systems now and trying to do things the same way. Always checking my weapons right before I get in the vehicle and making absolutely positive there's a round in the chamber, sights are on, lights are working, secondary is immediately available and not under a shirt, etc. I sat up front in a helo the other night and watched the pilots working the cockpit. Copilot had this really interesting way of pointing his hand at each gauge that he was evaluating. It was almost as if his hand would help him hold his attention on that gauge until he was sure that he had looked and evaluated what the gauge was telling him, then he would move his hand, and point at the next gauge and evaluate that information. Slow and methodical, but not missing anything, and not just quickly looking for a gauge in the red. I feel that going on patrol, whether in a cop car or in Baghdad, is similar and that going through your gear and making sure everything is just how you want it, before the fight starts, is HUGELY helpful. Paying attention to those little details and knowing that everything is right in your world really helps when it turns to shit. Knowing that your radio is on the right freq. Having ZERO doubt that your weapon is loaded. Knowing that you have med gear with you. Knowing that you've trained and that you have a plan. I really think most of these battles are won far in advance, and it's the hard training that gives you the self confidence. Do you believe hard MetCon workouts have a positive stress-inoculant effect? Yes. I argue with SRJ about this. He thinks there is no correlation. But if you train your mind to think through problems and to make good tactical decisions (even having to remember what set you're on, what the fastest way is to finish the workout) that's a habit your mind will follow when pushed. I think it's especially helpful when doing MetCon type workouts to think about being in a gunfight or fighting for your life, so that you're used to it when it arrives. If so, what types are the most effective? I think anything works, just do it fast enough that you're pushed. I also think it's pretty cool to work some stuff in where you have to go fast and are breathing hard, then slow down to do something accurately. 10 box jumps, and one shot with your air pistol. You miss, you owe another 10 jumps, type of stuff. As we addressed yesterday, reps are critical, how soon before stuff starts to erode out of our CNS? It feels to me like it starts to go after a week or two. But just as importantly, or maybe more, how long before your self confidence starts to flag? There is a huge part to this about feeling like you deserve to win. Like you've been working harder than anyone else and that you totally trust your skills, your strength, your calmness under pressure. Not to say that will automatically let you win, but it will make your decision making easier and will free up your brain to focus on other things, not just drawing a weapon, or getting a light on someone, or reloading, or talking on a radio. SRJ draws his pistol ten times every time he puts his uniform on. He's been doing that for years, and he has the fastest consistent pistol draw that I've yet seen. Most of the guys that I think are really on their game, dry fire every day or two. Ten minutes a day of working through basic weapon manipulation stuff makes a gigantic difference. That daily handling of your tools makes you extremely comfortable. Watch Act of Valor and slow the scenes down to see the weapon handling. It's obvious that they carry rifles ALL THE TIME. How often does one have to train to maintain that sharp edge?  Once every two weeks? What do you call training? Drawing your pistol ten times before you go out on the street would seem to count. Doing a CF workout when you are thinking about chasing a dude down would seem to count. Running scenarios with a partner while on patrol would count. White boarding a room entry, or using a sand table to talk through perimeters would count. Harder training gives you self confidence about solving problems. You ultimately want your training to be harder than what you'll encounter in real life. Look through the incidents that your organization is dealing with and draw from those. The better groups are working almost every day and they get very very proficient at what they're doing. If you're not working like that, then you need to be training. Do something every few days, even if it's only for 30 min. Have one guy give a 30 min presentation on self aid in the field. How do you stop bleeding from a bullet wound, on yourself. Practice an officer shot on entry, and work through the scenario of what you're going to do. It only takes 30 min but it's time so well spent. This is part of what a leader does, to be the inspiration for the team. Guys will whine and moan, but they will be FAR better for the work. Do you play video games?  If so, what and why? I don't play video games. LOTS of the boys do, but they tell me that the games are not designed to reward good tactics, and they don't really practice good tactics when playing. I think they might help you recognize a threat earlier, or have you think about throwing smoke, or a grenade, but that's it. There is also no pain associated with making mistakes and I think that's a missed learning opportunity. Do you have any good book suggestions? One Bullet Away, N Fick. Excellent. Generation Kill The Mission, The Men, and Me  Pete Blaber Leadership and Training for the Fight - Howe (excellent training book, highly recommended). Ten Minute Toughness (Sports psychology we've been using for work). Movie suggestions? Some okay stuff in Act of Valor. Movie was hard to follow, but good weapons handling and movement. Heard that Zero Dark Thirty is good, but haven't seen it. Jiro Dreams of Sushi will explain everything that you need to know about being good in whatever field you choose. Webpage suggestions? Check out Michael Yon, and Freecabinporn.com Give me feedback when you can. CR

If you think you're not average, you're either an idiot or you're right. You're probably (and I say this with all scientific sincerity) an idiot. I spent most of my life thinking I was above average. Hell, I was. I was a Navy SEAL by the time I was 20. I sailed 5,000 miles of open ocean in a 22 ft boat by the time I was 24. I had traveled to 30 odd countries by 25, including one that was a no-travel zone for Americans. By 27 I had lived and worked in a war zone, at 28 I owned 3 properties in 3 states including a drop dead beautiful piece of land in Northern New Mexico, at 29 I owned a t-shirt company with shirts in 12 Nordstrom stores and was on a rapid rise to the top and by 31 I was bankrupt. It was a hell of a ride. Then came this fucking slump when I realized that despite my good (not my best, because I wasn't making them) efforts, unless I stopped living in the past and got back down into the thick of it where the blood and sweat and bile and hellacious effort was, I was going to be average for the rest of my life. An average athlete. An average husband. An average thinker. An average man. Does this sound familiar? It must, I see you everywhere, including in the mirror. I mean, there you are in the coffee shop, or the ice cream store, or the Whole Foods, or hell, the Vons. I can see you're average in the way you walk, the way you shop, the way you spend, the way you and your girlfriend dress. I'm not trying to be mean, it's just…well, it's just the law of damn averages. You probably have some kick ass backstory too, but now here we sit, lounging back on slowly sagging laurels, seeing just how easy it is to achieve a comfortable lifestyle and seemingly inexorably getting sucked into the mundane fucking existence we spent the first 30 years of life making fun of. Ironic, eh? The hell of it is, the path to beyond average isn't complicated, it's just hard, and more often than not these days I'm just not up for hard. I'll get all fired up about rowing the Channel Islands or trail running high peaks or climbing hard or surfing harder, but then morning comes and I go for an easy run, or work through a sweaty but not strenuous kettle bell workout. I'll meet guys in the street I used to know and they remember me as someone I no longer am, and while my ego is temporarily soothed by their remembrances, I know that deep down I'm not that same fire breathing motherfucker. Sure, occasionally I'll hang out with better men than me, and it's not like I've turned into a fat pussy. I can still charge hard, jump off cliffs, leap chasms, lift heavy, and shoot straight. It's just that those things no longer turn me on like they used to and I'm not sure what will. And that's the hell of it, because here I am, knowing just how much potential I have and for lack of action and clear direction it's being pissed away in Facebook and walks around the block with my dog. I know what turns my brain on, and that's discovering or creating new ideas and then implementing them, but even then it's only a half-way high, nothing like the old workouts where I'd come busting up from the deeps with lungs burning, the world closing in on me and the clock ticking away, launching out of the water in front of the pack. Maybe I need to find a tribe again. I've been lost and solo too long, a man without a group, without a source to check my actions by. Really, without a clear purpose or goal. Is that then what is missing from our lives, we lost souls? A simple purpose, a clean goal? Knowing the effort that goes into that and the joy in the effort I know it must be right. There is almost too much wisdom in the idea that the journey is the destination. The only question left is, do I still have what it takes to load up for that journey, and to move above average?

Tell them it's me.  Phone 71B, location 2 Crew (B).  November 2011.  Somewhere off the coast of Oman I sit in a same-ness institutional room, opening my mind to the full circle encompassing darkness and light.  I have sat here all over the world.  The tan walls, the don't-give-a-shit mattress, the white sheets and thin soft blanket on a bed not mine but for now.  Training in Arkansas, waiting in Nicaragua, a tussle in Alaska, a Noosa Head spaceship ride direct from the beach.  Here I am again, wondering what I should do with my life, forgetting until I push back Burton's black dog night that I'm doing it.

Arrives this wild and pure kernel of spirit fire in me, slips it out in heavy weather, in big wind, in the hiss of heavy wooden poker chips sliding off the table, when my corporeal being falters, when my true spirit rises.

I have begged for it to show, I have forgotten I had it in me.  On a cold mountain in the Tetons when all I wanted was to be safe and comfortable, with no quarter given from the merciless earth it was unremembered in sick fear. 

Sometimes too late, after a confrontation with one in a long line of alpha males who won't admit wrongness, sometimes as unnecessary as a warm ejaculation waking me from sleep. What is this spirit that seems at times to be of ultimate importance, exquisite joy, and at other times like torn plastic floating on the ocean, a useless and unwelcome reincarnation of its former self?

I return to the moment, relieved of conversation with utlanning, strangers of my own culture.  The waking sea falls away at every horizon, the ship's white deck high off the water, dark clouds heavy overhead, warm drops of rain flecking my shirt.  The wind rises, the sun sinks away blood orange.  Tricked by genetic response to rain-dark-anger, my spirit awakens yet I am already safe.  Rage, sublime joy, a tempest of emotion, an uncontrollable belief in self all sear through my veins.  Another decision made, another poor action conquered, my weakest self beaten again, raw fluke, genesis inevitability.

Looking for proof of existence I forget I live in a vapor of faith, that I breathe it in every time my chest expands.  I step once, twice, into space.  My self pulses, an explosive oval thud, the terrible heat only burns brighter my fire.  I fly.  I am gone, here forever.

Letter to a friend: ***, There's nothing I have experienced that's anything like being on a stormy ocean on a small boat, out of reach of all mankind, reliant totally upon self and the fickleness of the sea gods. Not all the nations in the world with all their resources can do anything to affect the course of one boat out in the ocean when Nature, that uncaring and sublimely beautiful bitch, decides to wake and scream. 2 miles, 10 miles, 200 miles are all the same when you're in it, when wave and wind work together to manifest all that is creative and awesome in the truest sense of the word, showcasing ancient forces unknown and unknowable to those not willing to risk their most precious asset. There is no sound, no taste, no feel, no color to match the uncaring fury of Homer's ancient wine-dark sea.  Nothing.  Having that memory as mine I cherish it, nurture it, look in on it cradled in the cloak of my mind like my own yellow white candle of intense experience when I wonder, "Have I lived?" "To be truly challenging, a voyage, like life, must rest on a firm foundation of financial unrest." Any kind of unrest, the uncertainty, the unknowing of the outcome has proven to me to be the key to a meaningful voyage.  Storming up a pass in Patagonia, sailing through heavy weather, even out on those long runs when the Muses decide to smile with their terrible brilliance, to ask with flashing eyes and sharp teeth of steel for more than you think you have to give, when you just don't know if you have it, when there's no guarantee for greatness, when you have to reach and fail and reach again to leave this plane of experience for the next. That moment of flight, that moment when the breaks turn your way, when the energy starts to run through you, when the follicles swell and the hair stands erect, skin crawling, lungs stretching and expanding, legs strong and unstoppable, feeling the strength flow through you from the sky, that's the moment of physical reassurance that you're still alive. Reaching that, that moment, never seems to come from a state of knowing, a state of confidence that all will be well.  Remembering that uncertainty is necessary for inner victory we each pursue it in our own way; combat, physical action, mental peregrinations, all are built on the base of unknowing so important to the human condition of fleeting satisfaction followed by unfulfillment. We live incomplete in order to enjoy all the more those ephemeral moments of satori gained by our own efforts, knowing that it can't, it won't, it shouldn't last.  It's why we do what we do, and it's awesome in its simplicity and impermanence. "[The wise man] does not have to walk nervously or cautiously, for he has such self confidence that he does not hesitate to make a stand against fortune and will never give ground to her.  He has no reason to fear her, since he regards as held on sufferance not only his goods and possessions and status, but even his body, his eyes and hand, all that makes life more dear, and his very self; and he lives as though he were lent to himself and bound to return the loan on demand without complaint.  Nor is he thereby cheap in his own eyes because he knows he is not his own, but he will in act in all things as carefully and meticulously as a devout and holy man guards anything entrusted to him.  And whenever he is ordered to repay his debt he will not complain to fortune, but he will say, "I thank you for what I have possessed and held.  I have looked after your property to my great benefit, but at your command I give and yield it with gratitude and good will.  If you want me still to have anything of yours I shall keep it safe; if you wish otherwise I give back and restore to you my silver, both coined and plate, my house, and my household.  Should Nature demand back what she previously entrusted to us we shall say to her too: Take back my spirit in better shape than when you gave it.  I do not quibble or hang back: I am willing for you to have straight away what you gave me before I was conscious--take it."  What is the harm in returning to the point from whence you came?" -Seneca, On the Shortness of Life. Love especially the "Take my spirit in better shape then when you gave it."  Such a great way to live, and look at life. Charge! NFH

"The generation behind us is even worse. They don't even want the gear, they just want to do the activity on a video game. Don't bother to learn to play a real guitar, just pretend with guitar hero. Don't actually go out and dance, just pretend with a dancing video game. It's so fucking pathetic." You have no idea how right you are, and it only makes me wonder what the previous generation thinks of us.  Was teaching boats & motors the other day and guys will just sit there and say, "I don't know how to fix this" without getting in there and getting their fucking hands on it.  It's maddening, but it's also what drives me to get in there and fix stuff and run my own show.  I think, "I can do this and NOBODY can tell me I can't."  Because I can. So I show them by jumping in the boat and monkey-fucking it for a while and throwing all my 147 lbs into the motor to get it off tilt and then have one of them stand there and point and say, "I think there's a lever on this side you have to flip."  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?  GET IN THERE AND FLIP IT, MOTHERFUCKER! It's showing that I DON'T know everything on a boat by heart but I DO know I can figure it all out and I don't mind pinching my fingers or getting dirty or wet or cold or anything other than warm and fuzzy.  That's the attitude that's so precious and awesome and that we want to cultivate:  Unstoppable. "It seems like we've all gotten so far away from actually doing things, and just wanting the gear that allows us to do things." Yeah, I feel like a faker every so often, but then I think, "Fuck it, I AM out there doing stuff."  Maybe not all the time, and not as hard as the real dirt bags, but I get out there and get cold and hurt and sweaty and fucking uncomfortable all for a sunrise on a windy piece of rock or the silver flash of a fish 30' down.  For nothing.  For everything. "So how does one decide if they are "winning" at life? Is it how much you laugh? Or is it how much you learn? Or how much you love? How much you experience, or how deeply you experience? Or is it simply you feeling content with how you've used your time? " I don't think it's "winning", in fact, I don't think either of us think that way but it's an easy word to understand.  All of those are important (to us as individuals), but ultimately there's no scorecard. Really, ultimately, no one gives a fuck.  It doesn't matter if you've grown a garden or been in combat or you like fucking dudes in the ass; all that stuff only really matters to you.  That seems to be one of the open secrets of growing up and living a good life.  You realize no one else gives a shit but you and it doesn't matter to anyone but you what your life is.  If you want to smoke pot, do it.  If you want to put in 1,000,000 feet of vert, good for you.  If you land a contract for the same amount, $1,000,000, who gives a fuck?  You, that's all, and that's all that matters.  Maybe it's inspirational for someone else for a minute or a night or a week, but what drives us is us.  Our thoughts, our minds, our muscles, our will.  That's what makes you and me and anyone special, that we drive our own train.  That is it, and that is all. Reminds me of (yet another) Epictetus quote: "Everybody should play the game of life--the best play it with skill, speed, form, and grace."  Those qualities are all we can strive for, and thank god they're ephemeral, enjoyed only in the moment. Those same qualities are what sell lots of product because they've been captured in video or pictures or whatever and then you don't realize until you buy the jeans or bite into the cookie that it's not hard work you're wearing or eating, it's just CHNOPS.  It'll keep you alive and sheltered and fed but unless you put anything into it your heart is still empty. Indian talk.  I better go do something else for a while. Ok for now, NFH

CR, I like that first one out by Townsend and this last one.  Obvious differences of quality vs quantity, and we both know the answer to that question.  So with 40 acres and $885k how many folks will you need to make it do-able, and what do you get for your cash? What follows goes against a lot of my thinking over the last few years, but it also makes a lot of sense to me, so I'm putting it out there. $22,125/acre, and I don't think you want to make it so everyone gets their own acre parcel.  Probably better off with 1 or 2 areas sectioned for development (on my little 3k sq ft here in SD we've got enough for a garden and a workable yard/garage etc) and the rest left for single track or wilderness or whatever. I mean fuck, how much space do you really need?  You can build a 2,000 sq ft house on 1,000 sq ft, and anyone who wants more than a 2k sq ft house ain't my kind of people. An acre is 43,500 sq feet.  At 5,000 sq ft/lot (which is small, but you've got the rest of the fucking property plus community facilities like a workshop & gym) then you can get about 8 homes on 1 acre.  High density development is where it's at for efficiencies to start really working (like community level greywater and solar and wind and all the rest of the cool green stuff) and for community itself.  I don't want to live in the middle of nowhere with no one around, I want to live close to nowhere with a good tribe of folks. So, develop 2-5 acres for 16-40 homes and leave the other 35 or so acres open for wilderness stuff.  2 acres and 16 homes sounds way better to me; I don't know 40 kick ass people who I'd be into living in that kind of arrangement with.  That brings it to $55k per for the raw cost, then you've got to factor in building and whatever community bullshit on top of that.  $55k is do-able.  It's plan the fuck ahead money, but it's do-able. Set aside another acre for "town-center" stuff like a gym and a restaurant-grade kitchen and a fully operational wood/metal workshop with plenty of parking space and a range you're starting to get what I'm looking for. Also, figure out how many people will live there full time (not me) and how many people want a place to go to and build a kick ass house and hang out with rad people at different times of the year (most definitely me) and make that info available to buyers-in.  I don't think that many people need to live there full-time for it to be awesome, and it'd be kind of cool to always have fresh blood rotating through with a couple of big ol' potluck motherfucking dinners once or twice a year when everyone shows up. Either way it's the same price to get in.  First right of refusal to the group when selling, and some kind of group fund that gets a little inflow every month to take care of buying back property and maintenance on the community backhoe etc.  Maybe that's only for the first 5 years, I don't know.  Wandering back and forth across that socialist/individualist line, leaning heavily to individualist when I come to my senses and heavily to socialist when I want to maximize efficiency of buying power. How to gather that money together is the next question.  Prob put out a list with a 2 month time requirement and the whole way it'll go, at the end of which you say "I'm in" or "No thanks."  If you've got 16 folks, set up a bank account and give everyone a year (or two, whatever) to contribute their portion.  At the end of which if you've got the money together we pull the trigger on a nice piece of property, and if we don't everyone gets their money back and we drift away. That's my six cents. NFH

Yep.  Plenty of "ethical shortfalls" in the Teams, and I agree with *** regarding the "you ain't cheatin' you ain't trying" problem.  It sure affected me, and I still struggle with myself (not just the students) every day with that attitude.  The story you told me about not stealing toilet paper from Yosemite has stuck with me as well.  It's such a powerful move, and it seems easier to remain in integrity than to regain it, but it also seems to be like a good diet; you're always only the next meal away from living in integrity. Was just reading Greg Crouch's book where he talks about going to West Point.  Integrity was so important there that professors usually left the room after they'd handed out tests.  One time, the professor left the room and a student opened his book and started working on the test using his book.  The rest of the class was amazed and shocked until one guy leaned over and said, "Hey, this isn't an open book test."  The student who'd been using the book went white in the face, immediately closed his book and ran out of the room to go find the professor and confess his mistake. That story struck me particularly, probably because I've heard so much shit-talking about other services and started to believe it without checking.  That changed for me with the Marines when I read One Bullet Away by Fick, and this second story got me thinking about why I viewed other services with, well, fuck, I'll just say it, disdain.  Totally ignorant of me, but something that I wasn't conscious of.  Def. something I'll start adding in to my duties as an instructor; teaching our students that they ain't the be-all end-all of warrior-dom, and that integrity is not exclusive to the elite. Hope your trip to Africa was fun, sure seems like a lot of folks are heading over there.  I guess it's a good time to be a black dude in the Teams, eh?  Have often thought of doing some kind of business there, something to do with sustainability but then I figure why the fuck should I work over there when I've got neighbors who don't get it? Planed that redwood slab down again today; it got moldy last time as I didn't treat it with any MurderDeathKill type sealers.  I think I've fixed that problem now.  Have been reading 3 of VDH's books, all of them are good reads.  Carnage & Culture, The Land Was Everything, and Who Killed Homer? Yeah, I'm not sure how the whole thing will go down on working with you and other guys I dig, and I want to make sure I actually MOVE on it at some point instead of talking about it, but I still think we're in the best kind of patiently waiting stage, and when the time is right it'll all come together.  In the meantime I'm giving the subject pretty consistent low-intensity thought, and it's nice to think about. Ok for now, NFH