Sounds of Silence

April 12, 2015

I write in the early morning hours for the same reason birds sing then – it’s quiet. Birds can hear their voices, and I can hear my thoughts.

It is during the uncontested moments of the day that I can try out ideas – test them on paper. Yes, on paper! My most creative and productive process still employs a legal pad, a pencil and an eraser. The physical process of writing the words, looking at them, and often erasing what doesn’t make sense to my mind or sound right to my ear as I read it aloud.

The task of written communication has become more difficult during the four decades I’ve been engaged in this enterprise. While the work has become more complex and requires more nuanced discussion, the space available for careful comment has been reduced. Pretending cleverness or profundity, texts and tweets often do more harm than good to promote creative and productive discourse.

I am rarely provided the luxury of long-form journalism in this modern age. Even a “feature” article in a prestigious national professional journal is expected to be less than 1,500 words.

Modern scribes must boil down complicated matters to brief blogs like this one, hoping in a few short paragraphs to share an insight worth reading and to suggest a response worth doing.

The insight here? Silence is golden.

The suggested response? Seek a solitary space to describe and defend what it is that you hear in that silence.

Plan B Planning

July 23, 2015

The odds of a boy having a career as a professional athlete are very small; and for a girl, the odds are infinitesimal. But that doesn’t make the pursuit of such a goal ridiculous.
First, there are good, healthy destinations shy of that goal that result in meaningful, satisfying sports-related careers ... coaching, athletic administration, sports broadcasting, sports medicine, officiating, for examples.
Second, dedication to such a goal can develop disciplines and habits that lead to a more productive life, regardless of the ultimate career path.
How ridiculous would it be in 1969 for a Canadian boy of nine to set the goal of becoming an astronaut? Canada didn’t even have a space program!
But that’s what Chris Hadfield did, and he discovered the goal provided direction to his life that was lacking before. He had a new lens for viewing life and his place in it.
In An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth (Little, Brown and Company, 2013), Colonel Hadfield writes: “Throughout all this I never felt that I’d be a failure in life if I didn’t get to space. Since the odds of becoming an astronaut were nonexistent, I knew it would be pretty silly to hang my sense of self-worth on it. My attitude was more, ‘It’s probably not going to happen, but I would do things that keep me moving in the right direction, just in case – and I should be sure those things interest me, so that whatever happens, I’m happy.’ ”
There is a commercial airing on television for an international real estate company that tells us to “dream with our eyes open.” That is good advice for youngsters who dream of playing sports at any higher level. Even if the dream is not realized – and it most likely will not be – the dream might help to produce life skills for a rewarding “Plan B.”