Tag Archives: life

Some Thoughts on Self-Awareness

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I give some thought to the meaning of self-awareness after a discussion with a friend.

If you’ve been following this blog, you know that I ended my big Great Loop boat trip three weeks early because of a personality conflict with the other crew member. You can read about the trip on the blog I created for all of my Great Loop endeavors; this post gives you a list in date order of each daily blog post from the trip. If you don’t feel like reading a ton, read the posts for Day 34 and Day 35, which sum up the situation once it came to a head. (I won’t go into a lot of detail about the actual problem here since that’s not the purpose of this post.)

Sharing the Problem

Conversation
A text discussion I had with a good friend back in August, not long after I started my trip. (To my knowledge, he did not kill anyone in Oregon. And yes, I used a decibel meter on my phone to see exactly how loud my roommate’s snoring was.)

In general, I wrote very little in the blog about the problem as it was developing. I didn’t want to sound to readers like a whiner. I wanted the blog to be a useful tool for others contemplating their own trip on the Great Loop. I wanted to provide valuable information about navigation, stops, and facilities along the way. I wanted to share data that might be useful in trip planning — and to remind me what we did right, what we did wrong, and what I might want to do on my own journey.

But I did write quite a bit about the problem in texts to friends as it was happening. And one of those text conversations stuck in my mind because of something my friend said. He used the phrase self-awareness and I realized that I’d never really given that concept much thought. So on Wednesday afternoon, when I realized I wasn’t going to get any more real work done in my garage, I dug through my messages and found the conversation. I’ve shared it here so you can see the discussion in context.

(Do I care if the problem crew member reads this? Not one damn bit. The way I see it, it could help her learn something about herself to make her less of a problem in the future. But I seriously doubt she’s able to take any criticism at all. She’s more likely to throw a tantrum when she reads this than objectively consider anything I’ve written.)

What I find amazing here is how early on the problem with the other crew member manifested itself. I joined the crew on August 10 and by the end of the next day I was already griping a bit about the woman I had to share a very small space with. Nine days later, I had recognized that I had a real problem on my hands and even mentioned the possibility of dropping out. I proceeded to list a few things that were bothering me then — the list got longer as time went on, but I don’t need to discuss that here — and that’s when my friend replied, “Some of us are more self aware than others.”

And that got me thinking about self-awareness.

Self-Awareness, Defined

My first (admittedly paranoid) thought after reading his comment was, is he also talking about me?

I can be quite the gabber. I think that’s because I live alone, work from home, and have few opportunities to converse with others. I also think a lot about all kinds of things. There’s a lot of crap that accumulates in my head and when I get with someone who might be the least bit interested, a lot of it comes out. I had already talked this friend’s ear off about some of the weird stuff that happened during my crazy divorce and although I’d gotten all of that off my chest, I know I still tended to talk a lot when we were together. I was working on it, though, and making some headway.

Yet here I was, ironically complaining about someone who “never shuts the fuck up.” Was he hinting that I lacked self-awareness?

To answer that question, I needed to better understand what self-awareness was. I worked my Google skills and came up with a bunch of results from what I believe are reputable sources.

An article on the Positive Psychology website titled “What Is Self-Awareness and Why Is It Important? [+5 Ways to Increase It]” wins the award for the simplest definition:

Self-awareness is the ability to see yourself clearly and objectively through reflection and introspection.

While it may not be possible to attain total objectivity about oneself (that’s a debate that has continued to rage throughout the history of philosophy), there are certainly degrees of self-awareness. It exists on a spectrum.

This is what my friend was saying. “Some of us are more self aware than others.” It’s a spectrum. We should all have some level of self-awareness, but some have a higher level than others. I believe he was suggesting that she (or I?) ranked low on the spectrum.

The article then goes on to discuss self awareness theory:

Self-awareness theory is based on the idea that you are not your thoughts, but the entity observing your thoughts; you are the thinker, separate and apart from your thoughts (Duval & Wicklund, 1972).

We can go about our day without giving our inner self any extra thought, merely thinking and feeling and acting as we will; however, we also can focus our attention on that inner self, an ability that Duval and Wicklund (1972) termed “self-evaluation.”

When we engage in self-evaluation, we can give some thought to whether we are thinking and feeling and acting as we “should” or following our standards and values. This is referred to as comparing against our standards of correctness. We do this daily, using these standards as a way to judge the rightness of our thoughts and behaviors.

Using these standards is a major component of practicing self-control, as we evaluate and determine whether we are making the right choices to achieve our goals.

The article contains a lot more and I highly recommend it if you’re interested in this area of psychology, whether it’s to understand yourself or others better.

In my situation, I don’t think the crew member I had problems with did any sort of self-evaluation. I’m not even sure whether she was aware of her own standards and values. I honestly don’t think she gave much of that any consideration at all. I believe that she used the same methods of communication with us that she used with everyone else and flat-out failed to see how she was often being rude or a nuisance. She came across as selfish and immature. I don’t think either of those traits are compatible with self-awareness.

As for myself, I am aware that I run off at the mouth a lot and that I can annoy some people. I have theories on why I annoy some people and those theories vary with the person. (I think what tends to annoy a lot of women is that I’m not a typical woman, I have very little in common with women (I have no kids or grandkids and did not have a traditional married life), I know a lot things that are beyond their realm of experience, and I share a lot of interests with men. I honestly believe some women feel threatened by that.) I think that bothering to develop theories at all is a part of being self-aware or performing self-evaluation.

But the one thing I try hard to do — really! — is change my behavior when I’m dealing with someone who obviously doesn’t like me. I try to be aware of how my interactions with others are seen by others. Whether I succeed or fail miserably is the big question.

One thing I don’t do: let other people dominate me. (I think that bothers women, too, since so many of them are so accustomed to playing second fiddle to someone else. And yes, I’m putting that kindly.)

Do I actively engage in self-evaluation on a regular basis? I don’t think so. But I think I should.

After all, how can we understand other people if we don’t understand ourselves?

Other Resources

Of course, I found and read more than just one article on the topic. Here are two more that you might find interesting.

An article in the Harvard Business Review titled “What Self-Awareness Really Is (and How to Cultivate It)” approaches the topic, as you might imagine, from the business and productivity point of view. The summary states:

Although most people believe that they are self-aware, true self-awareness is a rare quality. In this piece, the author describes a recent large-scale investigation that shed light on some of the biggest roadblocks, myths, and truths about what self-awareness really is — and what it takes to cultivate it. Specifically, the study found that there are actually two distinct types of self-awareness, that experience and power can hinder self-awareness, and that introspection doesn’t always make you more self-aware. Understanding these key points can help leaders learn to see themselves more clearly.

The article goes into a lot of detail about the study and its results. Along the way, it presents a 2 x 2 grid identifying “Four Self-Awareness Archetypes” and how each affects things like leadership, success, and relationships. I won’t reproduce it here. Go check out the article for yourself.

Another article, on the NBC News site, is titled “What is self-awareness? And how can you cultivate it?.” It talks about recognizing and managing emotions. It quotes psychologist John Duffy:

In effect, self-awareness is the recognition of one’s own emotional state at any given point in time. The argument suggests that we are, far too often, wholly unaware of the emotional state we are currently in, and the degree to which that state influences our behavior and thought process. To the degree that we can manage our emotional states, we are better able to manage these other elements of our lives as well.

This is yet another way to look at this topic. I think it hearkens back to the concept of self-evaluation discussed above. How can you be aware of your emotional state if you’re not constantly evaluating yourself? Maybe we all need to just count to ten and think periodically thoughout the day, especially when we might feel as if our emotions are controlling our words and actions.

Me?

I came to the conclusion that my friend was not commenting on me and maybe not even the bothersome crew member. I believe he was making a general statement that applies to all of us.

But it got me thinking — and realizing how important the trait of self-awareness and the act of self-evaluation are in becoming a well-rounded person.

My Vlog

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I brush the dust off my personal YouTube channel for use as a vlog.

I began posting videos to YouTube on my personal YouTube channel way back in 2007. Back then — as today — the videos were mostly short clips I used to share things going on in my life. I guess I used it a lot like folks use TikTok today. (And no, I don’t have a TikTok channel or any desire to get one.)

The cool thing about putting content on YouTube for so many years is that I can look back at my life and what was going on. Some of those posts are better than blog entries because they show more than they tell. (If you’re a writer, you should understand the value of that.) I find special value in the posts that highlight things in progress, like the building of my new home or the development of my cats from kittens to full grown barn cats. Just the other day I watched a video from 2015 where I noticed the tree I’d found growing in one of my planters; not long afterward, I’d replanted that tree in my yard and it’s now more than 30 feet tall. (No kidding!)

Although I put a lot of time, energy, and money into the FlyingMAir YouTube Channel, I pretty much neglect the Maria Langer YouTube channel. There are only so many hours in a day and these days I have little desire to spend my time in front of a computer. I’ll be frank: the FlyingMAir channel earns me money through ad revenue and memberships; the Maria Langer channel does not. The FlyingMAir channel has nearly 70K subscribers; the Maria Langer channel does not. In my shoes, where would you put your time?

But I’ve recently decided I want to do more vlogging — video blogging. While lots of folks seem to consider the content on the FlyingMAir channel to be “vlogs,” I don’t. To me, a vlog is more personal and less edited. It might take me hours to video, store, back up, edit, render, and upload a 30-minute flying video. I think a vlog entry should be looser and more spontaneous. It should be something I can create quickly with my phone as the camera. Something that shares what’s on my mind or what’s right in front of me at a specific moment. Something I can upload quickly, perhaps minutes after I record it. Or maybe even while it’s going on, as a livestream.


I posted this on Twitter yesterday, but I sure wish I’d slowed down and shared it live.

What kind of content would I livestream? Well, yesterday morning, I woke to find a blanket of snow covering my entire area. It was absolutely gorgeous. But what was even more amazing was the way the sunlight hit those snowcapped peaks as the sun came up. That’s the kind of thing that’s great to share live and save for future viewing.

And how about when the bighorn sheep return to the neighborhood, as they’re likely to do within the next month or so? I’d love to create a livestream where I answer questions about them while videoing them grazing in my yard. (There actually is a livestream of this on the FlyingMAir YouTube channel; the only way to livestream it was to put it on a channel where it really didn’t belong.)

And right now, because the temperature is around freezing, the wind machines in the area are running. I’d love to share a live view of them in action, answering viewer questions as I record the sound.

That’s the kind of content that interests me. The stuff that’s going on now, the stuff I can share live with others who might have questions or comments about it. Interactive video content that doesn’t rely on editing to be interesting. Something short and sweet.

The trouble is, with fewer than 1000 subscribers on my personal channel, I can’t enable the mobile device live-streaming feature. I can only livestream from a laptop or desktop — and who the hell wants to see my talking head, especially with a view that’s likely to look up my nose?

So that brings me to a request. Can those of you reading this who have Google/Gmail/YouTube accounts go to my channel and subscribe? As I type this, I’m only 85 subscribers short of being able to turn on mobile device live-streaming. You can be one of those 85 subscribers! Three easy steps:

  1. Go here: https://www.youtube.com/c/MariaLanger/
  2. Click the Subscribe button.
  3. To be notified when there’s new content, click the bell icon to run on notifications.

And even if you don’t want to subscribe, I urge you to take a moment to check out the channel and some of the videos you’ll find there. They cover a wide range of topics and I’m pretty sure that if you like this blog, you’ll find at least a few short videos that you’l also enjoy.

Oh, and if you’re a Twitter user, follow me on Twitter. I might not tweet a lot of stuff, but most of it is personal and blog-like. After all, Twitter began as a microblogging platform and that’s still how I use it.

Letting Go

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There’s no use denying that it’s time.

Yesterday, I listed my motorcycle for sale on Craig’s list.

Yamaha Seca II
Here’s my bike, with the bags removed, parked in front of Bob’s house.

It’s a 1993 Yamaha Seca II that I bought brand new in 1992. I vividly recall the day I bought it in Paramus, NJ. I was still riding my first bike, a 1981 (I think) Honda CB 400 Hawk. I’d gone to Americade in Lake George, NY, with my future wasband and the sport touring motorcycle club we rode with and had test ridden the Seca II. It had more power and was sportier than the Hawk. I decided to upgrade and went to the Yamaha dealer in Paramus. I did the paperwork for the bike and then went next door to the BMW car dealer with my future wasband, who was a big BMW fan. They had a new 1991 (I think) K65 (I think) parked in the lobby area. He bought it. We showed up a week or two later at a club event, each riding brand new bikes.

Thanks for the Memories

Other Motorcycling Posts
I started this blog in 2003, which is after my primary motorcycling days. But I do have a few posts (with photos) here about motorcycling, if you’d like to read more:

I have a lot of really good memories tied up in that bike. I bought and rode it at a time in my life when I was in a good relationship with a man who still knew how to laugh and have fun. A man who knew how to say yes instead of making excuses to say no.

We took our bikes on a motorcycle camping trip down Skyline Drive and the Blue Ridge Parkway, all the way down to Georgia, then rode up the Outer Banks, right after a hurricane. It was an incredible trip — one of the best in my life.

We also took our bikes up to Lake George for Americade trips with the club and other long rides in New Jersey and New York. It was on a trip up to the Finger Lakes that I found the top end of the bike — 110 mph, if you’re curious — on a country road and began thinking about more power. I bought my 1996 Ducati 900 SSCR not long afterward.

But I kept this bike. It had the hard luggage and the comfortable seat. It would be my “touring” bike. Or so I thought.

We moved to Arizona and did a lot less riding. I bought horses and rode out in the desert. I bought a Jeep (which I still have) and drove that out in the desert. I learned to fly and bought a helicopter. There just didn’t seem to be time — or a point, I guess — to ride to the same old places, over and over. The magic was gone.

When I packed up my Arizona life to move to Washington, the Ducati was the first thing to go. I rarely rode — I certainly didn’t need two bikes. Besides, the Yamaha was already up in Washington, where I’d had it shipped a year or two before. I was tired of driving a truck all summer during cherry season so I’d had the bike shipped someplace where I would want to ride it. And I did — I rode more in Washington than I did in Arizona.

Time went on. I did a trip to Friday Harbor with my friend Bob — me on that Yamaha and him on his big old Moto Guzzi. He rode like a Harley guy, slow and ponderously — not at all like the sport touring club members who had helped me find my bike’s top end all those years ago. I think I frightened him. Occasionally, I’d take it out on a ride to Leavenworth or Lake Wenatchee or Silver Falls up the Entiat River. But then I just stopped riding it.

I was busy with other things.

Too Much Stuff

As anyone who has glimpsed the interior of my 2880 square foot garage can tell you, I have a lot of stuff. Too much, probably.

Owning motor vehicles comes with a cost: maintenance. Even if you don’t use them, maintenance is required. In fact, I’d venture to say that more maintenance is required per hour of use if you seldom use them than if you use them often.

My motorcycle became a perfect example of this. Because I didn’t use it, the crap they put in gasoline these days would foul the carburetors and cause all kinds of problem. Tires and hoses get dry rot and crack. Dust accumulates. Lubed chains get clogged with dirt. Batteries die.

After not riding for a few years, I took the bike to the local Yamaha dealer to get it running again. I rode it a few times and parked it for another year. One day I charged up the battery and started it up, only to have fuel spew all over the ground. I covered it back up and left it for another two years. I stopped registering and insuring it. There seemed to be no point.

I had my hands full using and maintaining my other vehicles. The Yamaha was neglected and ignored.

Downsizing Means Letting Things Go

I had a kind of epiphany this winter when I was traveling. I think I have to thank my friend Bill for that. He lives a simple, mobile life and seems very happy. While I’m happy in my home and have no desire to give it up, he helped me realize that I’m probably at the point where I have too much crap in my life. I’d be happier if I could make things simpler.

And, for me, that means getting rid of the stuff I don’t need or want.

Let’s face it: I’m not getting any younger. I’m 59 now and starting to think seriously about retirement. I’m already semi-retired, with real work (my flying business) only a few months out of the year and busy work (my jewelry business) off and on for the rest of the year. I have big plans for my retirement years and they definitely do not include a bunch of stuff I have. Why not get rid of it now?

With that in mind, I decided that the motorcycle would be the first thing to go.

My friend Bob — the Moto Guzzi guy — came by and helped me load the bike onto a trailer so I could bring it to a repair shop in town. They put about $700 of work into the carburetor (again) and a new battery. That got it running pretty good.

Yesterday, I picked it up and rode it to Bob’s house. He’d very graciously offered to sell it for me at his house, which is a lot easier to get to than mine. He has a garage to store it in and won’t take crap from potential buyers.

That 5-mile ride — my first time on a motorcycle in at least 4 years — brought back a flood of memories. Accelerating away from traffic, gliding around curves. Feeling the power of the bike beneath me, feeing it respond to the throttle twist and pressure on the brakes. I seemed to flash back to Sunday rides in Harriman State Park or out to the Delaware Water Gap. To trips where I could feel the wind against me, sense the subtle changes in temperature, smell the aromas of things I passed.

God, how I loved riding!

But I need to be honest with myself: if I keep it I will not ride it regularly. As I age, my reflexes will deteriorate. If I don’t ride regularly, my skills will decline — as I’m sure they already have. Poorer reflexes and skills are likely to get me killed on one of the rare instances I do decide to ride it. And then there’s the maintenance of keeping it when I don’t ride it: battery tending and carburetor repairs. Ugh.

So it’s best to just let it go.

Let go of the object so many good memories are tied to. Let go of a piece of my past that I really wish I could cling to forever.

It’s hard not to cry while typing this.

In Bob’s Hands

Anyway, I brought it and its hard luggage and the big plastic box labeled “Motorcycle Stuff” to Bob’s house. I discovered that I had not one but three motorcycle covers — two of which Bob will keep for his bikes — and not one but two tank bags. I also had two helmets (and will keep one of them in case Bob ever wants to take me riding). It’ll all go in a package.

I’ll admit that I priced it high. The bike only has 22,000 miles on it and is in very good condition with all those extras. But the way I see it, if I can’t get a decent amount of money for it, why sell it? I’m not desperate for money. Besides, it’s spring in Washington, and riding weather is upon us. It would make a great bike for commuting to work or taking a trip. Even the fix-it place said there’s a high demand for used bikes right now.

It’s in Bob’s hands. I know he’ll do a great job finding a buyer for it.

Meanwhile, it’s both sad and nice to have the space the motorcycle and its box of accessories occupied available in my garage.

Letting Go

I realize now that letting go of the things you cling to for emotional reasons is part of getting older and winding down. I think I’ve been in denial for a long time about my stage in life, but letting go of my motorcycle has helped me come to terms with it.

For my whole life, I’ve been building up skills and knowledge and wealth and possessions. It’s part of a cycle that I suspect was ingrained in me from my childhood. But the cycle has another part that I wasn’t prepared for: the winding down. That’s what I’m facing now.

Back in 2013, my godfather, Jackie, died. He was single, in his 80s (I think), and, in his later years, had become a bit of a hoarder. My mother and her first cousin were his next of kin and were tasked with getting his affairs closed up. It was a mess and a lot of work for them.

I also recall when my wasband’s dad passed away suddenly and his family — wife and three adult offspring — were tasked with clearing out the stuff he’d stored in the basement. They used a dumpster.

The way I see it, we should all be tidying up our own affairs as we age to make things a bit easier for ourselves while we’re alive and our next of kin when we die. The older we get, the less stuff we should have.

Downsizing is, in a way, admission that we’re getting old. And while I’m not “old” yet, I’m undeniably getting there. It’s time for the downsizing to begin.

And that’s why I’m preparing to let things go.

My Life During the Coronavirus Age

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Life isn’t that different for some of us.

As COVID-19 continues to rage throughout most of the world — with the notable exception of New Zealand these days — I’ve been doing what I can to avoid getting the virus and, if I have a mild, undiagnosed case, prevent spreading it.

Precautions

The primary way I “stay safe” is to stay home as much as possible. This isn’t difficult because I don’t have anywhere else I need to go other than the supermarket or other shops to get necessities.

For grocery shopping, I occasionally use the pickup service at Fred Meyer, which enables me to place a grocery order and pick it up in a predetermined time slot. If I do go to the store in person, I go in the morning, right after it opens, and I wear a mask.

Wear a mask.

For the folks who can’t be bothered to wear a mask indoors in public places, I say fuck you.

People who wear masks do so to protect others, including you. The very least you can do is wear a mask to protect them.

No excuses. Wear a fucking mask.

Until recently, more than half the customers were wearing masks when I shopped, but things have slacked off here. What bothers me more is that although the store employees are required to wear masks, about half of them do not cover their noses. This includes the checkout staff, who touch everyone’s food and money. On a recent trip, I brought my own bags, which they refuse to pack, specifically so they wouldn’t touch my food more than they had to. When the girl who does the packing — who had a loose-fitting mask that didn’t cover her nose — started handing me my groceries, I told her pointedly not to touch my stuff. I don’t care if she was offended; if she can’t wear her mask properly, she shouldn’t be touching anything.

I’ve been working on various yard projects that need building materials. Every time I needed something, I’d place an order at Home Depot or Lowes and go pick it up. I quickly learned that Home Depot didn’t get it; they required me to go into the store and wait on line to pick up my lumber order; clearly this could have been handled curbside. When they refused to let me exit through the closest door, thus forcing me to walk through the crowded checkout area where no one was wearing masks, I decided that I didn’t need to shop at Home Depot anymore. Lowes had better pickup systems in place and that’s where I now shop for lumber and garden supplies.

Pressure Reducer
I finally put a good pressure reducer on my garden hydrant, which has unregulated pressure over 100 psi.

I had to visit an irrigation supply store to pick up a pressure reducer for my irrigation system and was pleased to see that they were limiting the number of people inside the shop to the number of sales folks they had. The waiting spots outside were marked with tape 6 feet apart. Because the line was outdoors and spaced properly, I wasn’t wearing my mask. Some jackass parked, got out of his SUV, and stood right next to me. He wasn’t wearing a mask. “It’s all a hoax,” he said to me. I looked at him, said “Sure,” and moved six feet away. I was glad when it was my turn to go in.

I have had to meet with clients to pick up checks or maps. One of them handed me a mask when I came into his office; I’d left mine in the truck because it was supposed to be a quick stop. The next time I visited, I wore mine and I know he appreciated it.

(I should note here that since beginning this blog post in mid-June, Washington is now under a mandatory mask order. As you might expect, the brainwashed, flag-waving Fox News viewers around here are already screaming bloody murder about that. I don’t care. I’ll wear mine in public, walk out of stores where people aren’t wearing them, and spend the vast majority of my time at home.)

Social Isolation

The “social isolation” that so many folks are having trouble dealing with isn’t a bother at all to me. I’ve been living alone nearly full-time since May 2012 and, before that, was alone for one quarter to half the time for the previous 14 years because of either my wasband’s extensive travel schedule or mine. I’m not only used to being alone, but I enjoy it. I make my own flexible schedule and get a lot done. I’m free to do what I like when I want to do it, whether it’s mealtime, spontaneous trips, or just going to bed early once in a while.

And are we really socially isolated? Most folks are stuck at home with their families — and I pity them; at this point in my life I’d go nuts if I were stuck at home with anyone. Those of us who live alone can still communicate with friends and family members via telephone, text, and Skype/Zoom calls. I’ve always been active on Twitter, which I’ve considered my “office water cooler” for years; I’ve actually become closer to Twitter friends. I’ve participated in more than a few Zoom gatherings in the past few months where I’m able to socialize with people from all over the world. (Well, mostly the US, Canada, and UK.)

For personal contact, I still meet up with folks who are following the same precautions I am — mostly neighbors and a few smart friends. Before cherry season started, we met up once in a while for an afternoon glass of wine. Alcohol is out of the question for me until August, so our meetups have been less structured, but that’s okay. Because of the limited number of folks in my neighborhood and the simple fact that we all have the same sort of work-at-home lifestyle, I don’t feel worried when I’m visiting any of them. We’re not dumb and we’re all doing our best to avoid infection.

Finances

Sunset Out Front
My pups go out for a walk on the front lawn before bed. We’ve been having some awesome sunsets lately.

Virus lockdowns haven’t affected me nearly as much as many other people. Although it has pretty much dried up two of my revenue streams — AirBnB management and jewelry sales — my primary source of income — drying cherry trees with my helicopter after it rains — has not been affected at all. So while I’ll take a revenue hit this year, it won’t be much of a burden.

I realize that I’m extremely fortunate to be in this situation, but I also know that it’s not just “luck” that put me here. After 30+ years being self-employed, I learned the importance of multiple revenue streams. I don’t think a year has gone by when all my income came from just one source. The benefit is that if one or two revenue streams dry up, I still have money coming in from other places and work I do. This year, I added a website client for the first time in at least 10 years; it isn’t much money overall, but it’s a nice replacement for my AirBnB revenue stream.

I’m also well insulated against financial hardship because I carry very little debt. My home is paid for; the loan on my truck will be paid off within the next year. (I’m actually tripling payments on it now with the goal of having it paid up by December.) I have a small loan on the land I live on and am doubling payments on that to get that paid off quickly, too. That’s it. I have no credit card debt or any other debt.

One thing I learned early in life — which was reinforced during my relationship with a man who just didn’t “get it” — is that when you have a lot of debt, you become a slave to it. How can you take the risk of starting a new job or career or business when you need the income from the job you have to keep your head above water? When you need every paycheck to pay bills or maintain a certain (possibly extravagant) lifestyle, how can you break free if you want to? The answer is, you can’t. And if that job evaporates, you’re pretty much sunk, possibly stuck with taking a less desirable job with a smaller paycheck that does little to relieve the stress of all those bills. I saw it happen over and over in the last years of my marriage.

I think a lot of folks are going through that now and I feel bad for them. Some honestly can’t help it because of personal or family circumstances that they really can’t control. But I’m equally sure that others could have softened the blow by staying out of the deep debt trap. The key is living a life that’s well within your means and saving what you don’t need to spend. Saving for a rainy day make sense when the rain comes.

Sorry to lecture but this is something that I’ve always felt strongly about. My wasband’s inability to live within his means trapped him in a series of jobs he didn’t really like, making him a bitter old man who blamed me for his unhappiness later in life. I have to wonder how many relationships in this country are similarly torn apart by a simple lack of financial wisdom on the part of one or both partners.

Killing Time

Drying Cherries
I’ve been out drying cherries a few times since my season started in late May. You can watch the video for this flight here.

Overall, my life in the Coronavirus Age isn’t very different from what it was before that. After all, every summer is pretty much the same: organize cherry drying contracts, get together a team of pilots, and hang around at or near my home, on call during daylight hours for about two and a half months, waiting for calls after it rains. I’ve got a total of four guys working with me this year, all with R44s. It’s a good team of professional pilots and, so far, my clients have been very happy with our service.

Veggies
Here’s some of June’s harvest. I got an early start on my garden and have been eating food I’ve grown since the beginning of the month.

Since I’m stuck at home, I spend a lot of time on home projects. This year, my garden is bigger and better than ever, finally set up with eleven neatly placed plastic cherry bins as raised planter beds. I replaced the border around the gravel part of my gravel parking apron. I planted more trees and put them on irrigation. I moved my bee yard closer to my house, caught three bee swarms, and put two more bee packages into new homes. I’m finally getting around to finishing the stairwell in my entry area. I replaced my Wink home automation hub with a SmartThings hub. I sold a bunch of beekeeping equipment I didn’t need anymore. I’ve done my duty as a weed spray person for the association and used my DR mower to help a neighbor get rid of weeds along her 1/3 mile long driveway.

Bighorn Sheep
Being home all the time makes it tough to miss when the local bighorn sheep come down off the cliffs and graze in my yard. I took this photo yesterday from my deck.

I’m also making videos for the FlyingMAir YouTube channel. Cherry drying videos, tour videos, 360° videos, cross country flight videos. Videos of me moving the helicopter from the airport to my landing zone or from my landing zone to an orchard. YouTube has become a small revenue stream for me, but it’s unforgiving: disappoint your audience and you’ll lose them. It’s a lot of work.

Cherry season will end in the middle of August. Unless things get dire, I’ll take my usual week-long trip to celebrate the end of the season. This year, I think I’ll camp with my pups in my truck camper with my little boat at Banks Lake. I might ask a friend of mine to join me with his dog.

I do have some dates scheduled to sell my jewelry at Leavenworth’s Village Art in the Park, which has started up with a lot of restrictions. I think I have four weekends scheduled between the middle of August until the middle of October. We’ll see if they actually happen.

I’ve also booked a trip to Alaska in September, but as the virus situation worsens, I’m having second thoughts. I might cancel or at least put it off until next year.

I am having serious concerns about my winter travels. I normally go south to Arizona, where I camp with friends and travel around a bit, soaking up sun when there’s very little at home. But Arizona — with its flag-waving Fox News viewers — is apparently in denial about the virus and has become a hot spot. I only have one art show scheduled there so far — and I haven’t paid for my booth yet — so it’s easy enough for me to skip it this year. But where would I go? With the helicopter going in for overhaul this winter, I’m on a bit of a budget. Camping out in the desert would be cheap and safe, but I honestly don’t think I could do it for three months straight. I’ll take a wait-and-see approach.

Another Awesome Sunset
Did I mention the awesome sunsets we’ve been having lately? Look closely and you’ll see four of the helicopters on this year’s team of pilots.

Life Goes On

Like most of Americans — hell, most of people all over the world — I’m looking forward to a day when an effective vaccine and treatment is widely available. I wish my fellow Americans would stop whining and complaining and start taking the virus seriously. Wear a mask. Stay out of large gatherings. Wash your hands and your clothes after being exposed to others. Eventually, we’ll lick this thing and life will go back to normal. We all have to do our part.

And that’s basically it. My life hasn’t changed substantially since I normally work at/from home and have a solitary lifestyle. I’m not taking a serious financial hit. I’m one of the “lucky” ones, I guess.

But we all know that we make our own luck.

The Dancing Cow

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A fable as told by Mary Poppins.

Mary Poppins is back in theaters. The current movie is a sequel — not a remake — after all, how could they even think of remaking a perfect classic? — but it did get me thinking about the original. I was three when it came out in 1964 so if I saw it then, I don’t remember. I did see it sometime when I was a kid. And I saw it again recently, when I spied it on some streaming service and decided to settle down for a little fantasy from my childhood.

There was a movie a year or two ago with Tom Hanks playing Walt Disney and wooing Mary Poppins author P.L. Travers to get the rights to make a movie. I didn’t see that movie, but it did get me wondering about the book the movie was based on. So yesterday, when I was browsing the audiobook selections at my public library and saw the original Mary Poppins book available, I borrowed it and downloaded its files to my phone, along with a half dozen other audiobook titles. Although I started to listen to Neil deGrasse Tyson’s Astrophysics for People in a Hurry, I quickly realized, as my mind kept wandering, that I cared very little about quarks and bosons. I needed something light that would pull me in with a story line. Mary Poppins was just the ticket.

So yes, as I drove southeast through Washington and Oregon in an 8,700-pound truck with a 4,400 pound camper with gear on top of it, I listened to a female British voice actor read Mary Poppins to me.

The book was different from the movie. In it, Mary is terribly vain and not especially nice. She does have that magic carpet bag, though. Bert is in just one chapter and doesn’t ever seem to meet the children. Jane and Michael have twin baby siblings, John and Barbara, who aren’t even a year old for half the book. Mr Banks is cheap but there’s no bank scene. There’s no chimney sweep scene, either (Bert is a street artist and a match seller). There are other scenes, though, that never made it into the movie and that’s what this post is all about.

You see, in one chapter, Mary Poppins told a story about a cow and I found a moral in it. I’m not sure if that’s what P.L. Travers intended, but I suspect it was. The moral had nothing to do with the rest of the story in the Mary Poppins book — at least not as far as I can tell.

Let me tell you a short version of the story.

The Story

There’s a cow called the Red Cow. She lives in a great pasture with the best grazing. Every year she has a Red Calf and she takes care of it. Her life is routine and blissful and she’s happy.

Then one day she starts dancing and she just can’t stop. She can’t sleep, she has trouble eating, and she can’t even properly take care of her Red Calf. While it isn’t exactly unpleasant, it’s definitely inconvenient and is disrupting her idyllic life. Not knowing what else to do, she decides to go to the king for help.

The king sees her dancing and commands her to stop. She can’t. Then he notices that she has a star caught in one of her horns. The courtiers try to pull it off. When that doesn’t work, the king tells one of the courtiers to look up a solution in an encyclopedia hidden under the throne. There’s no reference to a dancing cow, but there is a reference to a cow jumping over the moon. So the king tells her to jump over the moon. There’s some nonsense about her being a proper cow and cows don’t do that but she really isn’t given a choice. So she jumps over the moon.

On her way down, the star falls off her horn and drifts away. She lands in her own pasture where she’s greeted by the Red Calf and promptly pigs out on all that good grazing. She’s happy again.

But not for long.

She feels as if there’s something missing in her life and she connects it with the star. She enjoyed the dancing, even though it was a bit of an inconvenience. She wishes another star would come down and get stuck on her horn, but that doesn’t happen. So she goes to Mary Poppins’ mother to ask for advice. (That’s how Mary Poppins knows the story.) Mary’s mother says that stars fall down all the time, but seldom in the same spot. She’s not likely to catch one again in her own pasture.

And that’s when the Red Cow realizes that the best way to catch another star is to leave her comfortable pasture.

The Moral

It’s the moral of the story that really hit home for me, especially today. I spent the past week packing for a trip that would last two to three months. The whole time, I’d be living in my truck camper, often parked out in the desert without a power, water, or sewer hookup. Sometimes, I’d be so far off the grid I wouldn’t even get a cell signal. Although I don’t mind it at all — in fact, I rather like the challenge of living like this for a while every year — it’s not nearly as cozy and comfortable as my home.

And that’s what I was thinking about as I packed and did laundry and had a long, hot shower, and used the dishwasher and had super fast internet access and slept in a warm, cozy bed. That’s what I was thinking about throughout the day every day when I looked out the windows at the changing season on display.

Winter View from my Home
Here’s what it looked like from my north-facing windows the other morning. It’s hard to leave a view like this behind.

I was so comfortable at home. Out on the road I faced the real possibility of being cold at night and not having a good shower for quite a while. Laundry meant a laundromat, dishes would be washed by hand, I’d have to go outside and start up a generator — thus breaking the marvelous silence of the world around me — just to use the microwave.

What was I thinking? Why in the world would I want to leave my nice comfortable home for a less comfortable and often inconvenient life on the road?

I knew why: I love to travel, I love to be on the road, I love to visit with friends and see new things and go new places. And I love visiting a few places I’m very fond of. I love the freedom of a life on the road: coming and going as I please, changing plans as I see fit, making it up as I go along.

I love nights like tonight: parked in a mostly deserted state park campground on a river, sitting on my camper’s bed, typing a long overdue blog post into a laptop, glancing up through the skylight every now and then to watch the moon play hide and seek with some clouds. I like sipping a glass of wine and thinking about my day — rather than tuning into a television that distracts me from my own thoughts — and wondering what the next day will be like.

I could be the Red Cow, content in her comfortable home. But I’d rather get out and see if I can catch and hold a star. Even a modest little star that makes life different or special.

On the Cusp

I’m on the cusp of another major life change and it feels good. Exciting, uncertain, terrifying, challenging. I won’t say more now but I will say this: I’m pretty sure it was my brush with death back in February that has pushed me into thinking about another path to find and follow.

Understand this: at about 5 AM on February 24, 2018, I really thought I was going to die. I should have died. But I didn’t. I was the luckiest person on the planet that morning.

The lesson I took away from the experience was one I already knew: life is short. Don’t waste time doing shit you don’t like doing. Or shit you’re bored with.

I’m getting bored and it’s time for another change.