more normal than not

Wildfires all around Ventura now….

I hope that folks out there aren’t getting damaged…and that this cool company survives unscathed.

I visited this place a bunch of years ago….and it looks just interesting now as I remembered it being.

The company I work for isn’t known for having a really innovative corporate culture.

We do our job…but nobody talks about saving the planet.

But…if we didn’t deliver the Patagonia catalogs…how would they get that small part of their message out to the world?

I guess everybody has a job to do.

This looks like a good place to work.

I see bear and deer and hawks out on my route.

Where I work is a good place, too…in spite of what the “corporate culture” is there.

I started running again last week.

Running…walking…moving.

This early in the game…I shuffle.

It’s not something you’d want to see in a race…but, at 4 in the morning…who’s out there to watch me other than the deer and the bears?

I run in an old black t-shirt and my jeans (it’s cool here, now)…and a good pair of Hoka 1’s I bought in a thrift store.

That’s not much of a traditional running “costume”.

That falls in line with the philosophy found in this book by Grant Petersen.

He’s the owner of Rivendell Bicycle Works…and doesn’t believe that you need to “fancy up” to enjoy riding a bicycle.

You don’t need all that spandex and fancy shoes.

He thinks you should be able to get on the bike and go.

He’s kind of a luddite on wheels.

Me, too.

But…if we aren’t convinced that we need a lot of extras to enjoy an activity….how are the companies going to sell us a lot of extras to enjoy an activity?

Awwwww….sometimes that’s the fun of it all….gearing up to (maybe) do something when we’re in full costume and ready for action.

If you can’t “be” fast….maybe you can “dress fast”?

Maybe it’s a good excuse?

“I’ll do the running when I have the right gear”?

I appreciate Grant Petersen’s philosophy.

Just run.

I had a really philosophical post planned…about fireflies…and, then, when I went looking for a picture to throw at the top of all the writing, I found this.

My oldest daughter used to listen to this “band”.

I don’t think that it was a band.

I think she told me it was just this guy singing.

It wasn’t a band…it was a dude.

Anyway, the original idea for the post was about how the seasons are changing and the fireflies that lay on the road were just another indication of all the coming cold weather.

When it gets too cool they can’t fly…it’s time to die.

Still…they do shine on…laying on the warmer asphalt….waiting for the end.

That’s the kind of thing that I notice when I’m out by myself….running…walking…at 4:30 in the morning.

That early time is beautiful….the road, wet after the night’s rain….me…alone…no one else moving on what should be a restful weekend.

I hear things that I can’t see out in the woods…crashing through…moving…calling out.

It is a good way to start the day.

It’s a good thing to be reminded of my place in it all…moving through the beginning of the day.

I work today…but that’s OK.

There isn’t enough time in the world to wait for the “right time” to make things better.

I work today….but I can accelerate towards something good…in spite of “I work today”.

Coffee and exercise and stream of consciousness.

Good times.

I can do more than lay down to die….shining on a dark road…waiting to be noticed.

Even in the changing season….I can always do more.

Even more.

If I had a garage….and, if I made a mistake and drove my car into it, left the engine running and closed the garage door, I wouldn’t last very long.

That’s a disturbing truth.

The air wouldn’t be fit to breathe in short order.

What my car produces in return for carrying me from place to place is not compatible with life.

The fire that moves me down the road makes poison.

I drive every day for my job.

I drive a lot of miles.

I think that I figured out a while back that I could have gone around the world over 10 times with the mileage I’d driven over my postal career.

I could have gone somewhere if I’d been pointed in the right direction and didn’t stop for every mailbox.

I could have landed someplace interesting.

Everyone drives.

There are a million cars on the road.

That’s probably an understatement.

A “million”?!

More than that, probably.

If we all drove into the “big garage”….cruised around under the big blue sky…where would the poison all these cars spit out go?

I couldn’t survive in a garage with the engine of my car running.

This is stupid and simple.

It’s no revelation to say that the exhaust would kill me.

How big do I think that sky above me is?

Is there room in the world to disperse all the poison I produce?

How much room do I need for all my dirty stuff?

Will I survive….me?