Beauty on the Cliff Walk, worry in my heart
My day started beautifully. My neighbor Henry, my dog Fritzli, and I walked Newport's rocky cliffs. The sky was blue, the ocean glistened. On our way home, I noticed the perfectly green leaves and blossoms on the trees.
Thank goodness I have this morning walking routine. Without it, life would be stale air.
Starting a blog post is near-impossible when you worry about family. I have one loved one in the hospital and another who is struggling, which makes happy Mother’s Day greetings feel bittersweet.
Speaking of moms - mine usually forwards Sean of the South's daily columns to me. Sean Dietrich (known as Sean of the South) is this wonderful storyteller who shares heartfelt, funny stories about everyday life in small-town America. My mom loves his writing so much, she shares his columns with everyone she knows. For the past week, they've stopped arriving in my inbox because she's in the hospital. This absence of Sean's columns in my daily life is a sign mom is unwell and it makes me sad. Maybe it's practice for when they will stop coming for real - a trial run for her eventual departure. I'm just hoping she'll be back at her computer soon.
Sean has been walking the El Camino but has come down with horrible shin splints and his "calves look like water balloons." He's leaving his wife to finish the trip without him. "Her loving response? 'Go to hell.'"
Yesterday, Sean wrote: "I bought this hat in my dad's hometown, many years ago. It has always been my favorite hat. For years, it's been my constant reminder of his beautiful and tragic life. Today, after walking 336 miles on the Camino de Santiago, I left it at the foot of a very big cross. I don't feel much like writing today."
I know that feeling.
From his stories, I see that the journey is hard—like life. There are moments of beauty and friendship, but also swollen calves and cranky family members. Who said pilgrimages were all spiritual bliss?
By the way, as Henry and I admired the view on our cliff walk this morning, I told him about Sean's journey on the El Camino. Henry looked around at our cliffside path and with perfect deadpan timing said, "This is like the Camino but shorter." I laughed. He's right - our little morning pilgrimage might not earn us any spiritual medals, but it does wonders for the soul.
So back to life. Have you read about tech guys picking up martial arts and fighting each other, like nerd gladiators. Nothing says "I'm totally secure in my masculinity" like a bunch of billionaires trying to prove they can throw a punch while their bodyguards nervously watch from the sidelines.
Our karate dojo is different - quiet and respectful—not full of the “ostentatious trash talk” a recent New York Times article describes. Winners in Shotokan karate don’t dance around or thrust their pelvises towards the crowd either. That would be too vulgar and unwarrior-like. If anyone wants to try martial arts, I suggest finding one with a good code of ethics.
What are these crypto guys doing? Making up for feeling not good enough? Perhaps this is Mark Zuckerberg's attempt at getting kids away from screens; perhaps he's trying to help them fill their emptiness with sport instead of shallow pleasures like shopping and notifications. As Arthur C. Brooks, a professor at Harvard, found in the Global Flourishing Study, "young people feel lonely, an emptiness that can't be filled with anything." The answer is "physical contact, going back to basics, real friendships, deep talks." I would add that we need more respect.
When I read Sean's stories of the Camino, I see that respect, service, and humility bring real rewards - not showing off.
And we are letting these self-centered, ego-driven crypto people run our world?
I also read about a book called “The Family Dynamic” by Susan Dominus. It looks at families with “more than one high-achieving child” like the super-achievers and writers Anne Brontë, Emily Brontë and Charlotte Brontë. The book says parents should avoid too much “effusive praise” because it is demotivating.
On the flip side, sometimes we feel our efforts are never good enough. There's always competition. I liked that successful families support each other, even without lots of praise.
My karate teacher doesn't praise much either, and I think that's what keeps me trying hard. Maybe that's the lesson in all of this - from parenting to walks with friends to hospital visits to pilgrimages. We keep going, not for praise or recognition, but because the journey itself, with all its beauty and pain, is what matters.