sidewalkghostsblog

Day 341: Cast Off Mateys! We Have an Ocean to Save!

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“So many talk about making big change, but really, it is the small changes that each one of us can do. Whether it’s turning off the lights that we’re not using, picking up the trash on the sidewalk, carpooling, or biking to work. We can actually make a difference.”

I’m on a short vacation in Long Beach, home of the Queen Mary, and harbor to many a commissioned cruise line. But it’s a much shorter excursion that I find myself and my family embarked upon today. For being the land-legged buccaneers that we are, we have decided to hit the high seas… well at least the channel between the coast and Catalina, for a three-hour tour (less a Gilligan’s Island storm). And no, the weather never started getting rough. And if it did, we are covered (thought ahead and took our sea-sickness meds). Pacific Ocean… bring it on!

But storm we do travel through—not rain, not the charging of a Moby Dick sized mammal or the attack of bow breaking waves. A storm that chimes as a narrative voice of loudspeaker charm and enthusiasm, as it informs all on board of the ocean’s wonders.

Her name is Jennifer, and not only is she a wealth of knowledge about the magnificent Blue whales we have spent hours alongside of, but she is a charming advocate for the sea she adores. You can see it in her eyes as she speaks of her love for the ocean and her concern for the way humanity is treating it.

“Everyone needs to realize that every single person in this world has an impact on their environment, more specifically the ocean environment. For those of us who live on the coast, we see it, and we really don’t understand it. For the people who never really see the ocean, they may have a tendency to say, ‘How do I impact the ocean? What do I do here in the middle of the country? How can I touch the ocean? And how does the ocean really impact me…?’”

Jennifer explains, “The truth is, the ocean impacts everyone… every single day.” She throws a couple of facts, “The ocean creates about seventy percent of the oxygen we breathe; the toothpaste we use comes from kelp. It provides us all the sorts of things that we use in everyday life, and what happens to it severely impacts us in every way.

“It does not matter where you live, the impact is the same, even if you drop a piece of trash into the grass, it is going to find its way into the habitat of an animal. That is really important to realize. The lights we leave on, the trash, and pesticides we use.

“So many talk about making big change, but really, it is the small changes that each one of us can do. Whether it’s turning off the lights that we’re not using, picking up the trash on the sidewalk, carpooling, or biking to work. We can actually make a difference. What if we all went around picking up one piece of trash and throwing it away, we would probably reduce the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, or all the garbage patches, that are in the ocean right now.

“My words of wisdom? Realize that you can make a difference, even one person; it just takes a little effort. Right now we are sort of standing at a fork, and we can go one of two ways. If we continue to act as we are… to fish irresponsibly… to trash what we want… and to fail to reuse and recycle… basically, to keep taking and dumping more and more, we are going to find ourselves in a really scary position in about twenty-five to fifty years. We see oceans that are a lot emptier. A lot of people look at the ocean and say, ‘That will be there forever.’ We can’t guarantee, if we continue to overfish, that it won’t be gone… and once it is, we can’t bring it back. We are on the brink of losing species like Tuna. Who could imagine a world without Tuna sandwiches?

“If we are not more responsible, we are going to see a very different ecosystem. We’ll lose or grazers, we’ll lose our kelp forests, we are going to lose a lot. But if we can stand at this fork and go the other way… to a place where we each do something, and in working to inform our generation and our generations to come.

“We have to take responsibility to be stewards to the ocean; and if we do, we can potentially look forward to a really beautiful future. We have to accept that we are coming very close to the point of no return… and it’s going to get scary.”

Working at the Aquarium of the Pacific, Jennifer meets many people, a job that brings giggles of joy to her. Working there has given her first-hand communication to hundreds of kids and teens, all of whom she has the greatest admiration.

“There are a lot of really smart kids out there,” Jennifer notes, “and they are teaching us. I know our middle schoolers and our high schoolers are going to do something amazing for the future. We need to listen to them… and we might have some cleaning-up of our own to do.”

And with Jennifer’s calling of us old folk to accountability, she throws rays of hope of what the upcoming generation will do. “There are new ideas to come up with to fix things that we have done. Things that at this point are looking fairly irreversible. So maybe, in the next one hundred years, we will be able to still have this beautiful world… it really deserves our love and care. If you can’t see that when you are out on this ocean… I don’t know what else will tell you how wonderful this planet is.”

It really has been an amazing cruise, and Jennifer’s willingness to spend a bit of on-ship and on-land time with us has been very enlightening. And with the radiant optimism that she emits, Jennifer gives us departing instructions, “A lot of us are disheartened, but everyone will find themselves at a point where they are at the right point to see that they can make a difference. Many will say, ‘There is so much.’ But they have to remember; it is baby steps… we can’t expect to take these giant strides. We need to understand that to make our goal of a cleaner, healthier planet, it just takes baby steps forward.

“We’ll find that each thing that we add to our repertoire of helping out the planet is going to expand, so that fifty years from now, when our kids are old and grey, they’ll be able to look at how much they have learned… how much they will be doing… the lights will be turning off and the trash will be ending up in the right place.

“It just has to start from one point. Its baby steps… not large strides.”

Cast off, Matey! We have an ocean to save!

Day 170: Anarchy Scares Me

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“It is kind of scary seeing what is happening, but in this is the age of information, we can create a domino effect in getting the word out, to open people’s eyes. We have the ability to stir up the pot.”

Let us keep moving forward in our effort to unite as a people. Day 170 has hit us and 365 is moving so fast. I can’t believe that in less than two weeks we will be at the halfway point. Not sure how we are going to celebrate this mid-point mark. If anyone has a suggestion, please pass it on. And whatever we decide to do, let’s think of a way to get the message out further.

“We are all in this thing together,” I never get tired of saying it, and I sincerely hope it is becoming a mantra to us all. One-by-one may we pass it forward as a tribute to the individual influence we are to the world around us. We are a powerful bunch and with our united voice, the combined acts we carry forward are nothing to ignore.

It’s crazy to me to see how my photographer’s blog has evolved to carry a social message. And weirder yet, I’m starting to become an activist of some kind. That is something that has occurred beyond my control. I must express my appreciation to all who have helped to form the basis of my blog content, over 200 photographs, and over 150,000 words to date. All with meaning that is not of me, but of my strangers turned friends. Perspectives that are further fueled by the dedicated following of you, my readers. Please keep the comments coming. And by all means, keep passing it on.

I run into another friend today who edifies our effort in seeing beyond the veil of cultural difference, “Don’t let religious differences or politics get in the way of us existing globally. What is important is the health of the planet and learning to coexist peacefully.” Opening advice from producer, father, and writer, Rusty.

I meet Rusty at the garage sale of another new friend of mine. Garage sale is a huge understatement. It is more of a high-end gem and antique store, hidden in the veins of a suburban lifestyle.

I’d like to spend this whole entry talking about my buddy’s sale, but needless to say, the story here has to be dedicated to Rusty.

 

“In the 50s we worried about Russia and the cold war. My children won’t have to deal with things like that. Now the war is with ourselves…”

Rusty expresses concern regarding a block to the world he wishes for. A world where more will have greater respect for the environment and humanity. “Corporate greed will not let that happen,” he warns.

Yet he does expose a glimmer of hope in charging us to duty. “It is kind of scary seeing what is happening, but in this is the age of information, we can create a domino effect in getting the word out, to open people’s eyes. We have the ability to stir up the pot.”

“I have kids. I’m worried about this country and about what the future will bring for them, and us all.

“In the 50s we worried about Russia and the cold war. My children won’t have to deal with things like that. Now the war is with ourselves, and I wonder what is going on behind the closed doors of corporations and politics. But it is good that more and more people are starting to open their eyes.”

“How do we repair the damage?” Rusty proposes. He answers his own query, “We have to become proactive. I don’t want to see collective anarchy or people overreacting. Anarchy scares me, but if we do fall to it, I hope that once the dust settles, we will be in a better place.”

Even though Rusty and I speak of the worries of anarchy there is a real peace in our conversation. A peace that I will admit is core to my spiritual outlook on life. A peace that has been strengthened by the many who have graciously accepted my invitations to contribute to 365. And yes, even those who have mocked me over the last few months have collectively contributed to the song that we are beginning to sing.

There are a lot of great people on this planet; I know this first hand in meeting many of them. For this, I am grateful for Rusty’s words.

May we all be united in building a better planet. The time is right and the seeds are planted. It is up to us to nurture the garden of growing respect for one another. One kind word or act is more influential than we think. As Rusty advises, “We have to become proactive.”

Day 18: How Was Your Day?

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How Was Your Day?

Quite a day today. I won’t go into details, but one note to share. I’ve been telling everyone about 365. A few ask me, “Why are you doing this?”

There are two general answers:

First, “Loving meeting people and am learning a tremendous amount about others and myself,” and secondly, “Because I’m just a little bit crazy.” Either way. The more people I tell about 365, the more committed I am to seeing it to the end. And I’ve already handed out a hundred cards or so.

That said, Let’s move on and meet today’s new friend.

There is a place not far from my house, an old-school diner with an old-school menu—nostalgic to the core, and home to the grace of Nicke. It was one of those off-camber evenings. You know, the kind ending in a grumbling stomach and a bad attitude. So in falling to the grip of hangry, I called my dearest. Reached into my Y-chromosome tool kit to call in the driest of voice, “What’s for dinner?…”

OK, I get it, a total loss of self-control, and as you might assume a completely insane opener. In retrospect, it would have been better to have asked; “How was your day?” Yep, it’s true, I’m from Mars. Now please don’t jump to the wrong conclusion. I have a wonderful companion: very talented, loving, patient, and kind­. But on that particular evening, via my negative karma, and blended with the mix of stresses she was facing, I stepped to the plate with a truly dangerous question. Oh yeah! A clay pigeon I was, and directly in front of me, both barrels of the shotgun. Like a seasoned shooter, she pulled the trigger. Turned out, I was on my own for dinner.

After a wound licking phone-invite to my daughter, we found ourselves sitting at Nicke’s table, combing the menu for comfort food, and on a quest to find the right little something to take home as a peace offering. Buried in myself I was as she walked up. Kindness and a smile were written all over her face. Like a well-known friend,, she carried herself, and as I felt of her spirit, I was exampled a lesson in better ways to counter the blinding pull of dreaded hangry. Calmed as I observed her endless smiles, her listening words, and the way she warmly spoke to customers by first name. And as I watched her, I was again schooled in just how far an outstretched heart could reach.

We finished our meal, picked up the takeout, and as I pulled into our driveway, I readied myself to ask a most important question to a most important person, “How was your day?”⁠
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Day 91: The Power of One

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“My goal is to inspire those who have chosen mediocrity out of fear to reach beyond themselves…way past their comfort zone into a life of adventure and meaning.”

The social network has made the world a much smaller planet. Hold that thought for later, but for now, I’m going to give you a little confession. Yes, I’ll admit it, even though I remember the days of the fax machine, and admit to having received one or two documents via messenger, I have embraced the Cloud… at least mostly.

Mostly.

Sure, blogs are cool, websites are a must, Twitter is an interesting hello, and Facebook a nice way to reach out; but as a meeting place, sort of creepy to me. Maybe I’ve been jaded by the personal newspaper ads of the ’80s, “Hi my name is Creepy; call me for friendship or whatever.” Yeah, right. I’m picking the phone up right away.

Today my virtual world has been rocked when I run into one of the most fascinating, brave, and powerful humanitarians in my circle of friends. Maybe I’ve been a hypocrite in some way. Yes, I do use social networking to share my global projects, and in building a following for 365. For that purpose, I spend 30 minutes a day throwing invites. But that has been my limit, “invites only.”

So for me to actually cold message someone is a little scary. Almost 700 friends on my Facebook, and when I looked at it yesterday, top of the list was Lucy, Director of Anti-Human Trafficking Campaign.

Director of Anti-Human Trafficking Campaign: The title digs deep into me. I must get involved. I’ve traveled too much, seen too many things, and instantly know that in a vicarious way, I have silently met a hero for the world. I must invite her to 365.

With trepidation, I craft my 365 invite with this close, “I promise I’m not scary, a married man with a 9-year-old daughter. Really, I rarely message on Facebook. Your humanitarian work just caught my eye.”

Man, I’m a nerd; she’s going to blast back, “Sure buddy, see you in China.”

But the 365 jitters told me,  “Richard, you have to take the chance.” I press the send button and jump back into my daily business. An ugly task awaits me, a call to the bank to replace my lost credit card. I’m sure you’ve been there.

I make the call and as I begin my journey into voice prompt hell, Lucy responds with an empowering acceptance of 365. I’m humbled. I dump my bank nightmare, immediately call her, and we have a very brief conversation. One thing I instantly know, Lucy is amazing, powerful, and strongly committed to her mission.

She kindly informs me, “I’ve just returned from a month in Tunisia covering the elections so a bit in-over-my-head with all the catching up I need to do, and tomorrow I’m giving a presentation at the Skirball Cultural Center’s, Half the Sky exhibit.”

Realizing I’ve met a new friend of greatness, I offer to interview her at the Skirball. She graciously accepts, and not wanting to pollute the spontaneity of a first meeting, we leave it at that.

To the Skirball, I go, joyfully greeting the heavy traffic of an Interstate 405 under heavy construction (another story in itself).

I arrive fifteen minutes before Lucy’s presentation. Today’s audience—a group of high school students, the literal future of the world. My take, “If change is going to happen, we have to start with the youth, they are the leaders of what’s to come, for better or worse, the planet is in their hands.”

Lucy is not alone; beside her is Daisy, her lovely daughter. I’m instantly smitten to see a mother-daughter together in preparing to share a difficult topic and challenge to young minds.

The Topic: The Darkness of Human Trafficking and its Relation to the Horrors of Prostitution.

The Call To Action: “Get involved in speaking out.”

“Use the social network, tell the world what is going on, and share messages for human rights. You are powerful and your word can be heard. With many voices comes awareness and change.”

The presentation is brief, but her delivery is spot on and at a perfect level for the audience. Lucy talks about the scale of illegal Human Trafficking, a multi-billion-dollar industry that destroys the lives of the women it exploits. She credits its growth to the greed and inhumanity of the money-hungry corrupters of human rights and poses a solution: stronger laws that will prosecute all who commit the atrocities of stealing the rights, esteem, bodies, and futures of so many.

It is shattering to know that most of the world’s brothels are filled with innocent young teens working against their will, most of whom are victims of dysfunctional families, or, worse yet, literally sold into slavery by abusive parents at ages as young as pre-teen.

Lucy is direct in her dialogue and no punches are pulled. The facts are laid out and the room intently listens. There is no texting, no cross-talking, and no interruptions. At the end of it all, Lucy eloquently answers a set of well-constructed questions from the students.

With the presentation over and the room clearing, I get the opportunity to sit with Lucy and Daisy.

I offer my camera to Daisy and as Lucy and I talk, Daisy is busy snapping away. She is obviously proud of her mom.

Lucy asks me, “Do you think they got it? I saw a lot of black stares.” Both Daisy and I chime in, “They got it. Look at the questions they asked.”

What I witness is nothing short of spectacular. A woman passionate to make a difference, and humble enough to question, “Did I say the right thing? In my view, Lucy is a soldier of justice.

Her orders are universal, “Stop the cruelty, save the lives.”

There is so much she has enlightened us with, and not all of it is dark or negative. She tells of an organization she works with. One that trains women rescued from the brothels. Teaching them skills that their captors denied them. Things like basic secretarial and phone skills that allow them to work within their organization. They can understand and empathize when taking incoming calls from victims of human trafficking and prostitution. What a great way to help these women heal: Helping others in the same situation they themselves escaped.

It’s a great start to fixing a major problem and demonstrates that the corrupt systems can be altered in giving self-respect and dignity back to those who have been condemned by the trade that they were forced into. This is a seed to the beginnings of change.

Lucy shares a statistic, “Ten years ago when I started this journey, not many were even aware of human trafficking, now it is globally exposed and some laws are slowly changing.”

She challenges us all, “Use the social network, tell the world what is going on, and share messages for human rights. You are powerful and your word can be heard. With many voices comes awareness and change.”

Lucy talks of the power of one and challenges us all to reach deep into ourselves, to escape our own minds, and to have the fortitude to do our part in helping the oppressed. I am inspired and am completely engaged in her mission.

True, for some, like Lucy, it’s time to roll up the sleeves and do the physical work. But there is also much softer work to be done. Lucy is talking about universal awareness. She talks of her philosophy of the strength of words, and the words of many, even one individual, being a powerful thing.

With this, Lucy is not asking all of us to travel to Tunisia, to invest countless dollars or time, she is not even asking us to step out of our home. What she is asking is simply this (in my words), “Speak out against the injustice of the oppression being burdened upon the women of whom such atrocities are happening. Have compassion for them, they are victims and deserve a chance at life. Do your part in telling the world. Awareness brings change. The corrupt inhumane money mongers must be removed, and the laws that protect them need to be we-written to prosecute them.” 

Here is one startling fact. The charge for a pimp (the guy beating a 13-year-old into submission)—Pandering. A basic misdemeanor. That sickens me.

Do my part? Now I know why I stopped today on my Facebook browse. There is a reason Lucy is found at the top of my cue. If you believe that things happen for a reason, then possibly, the stars have aligned today in my not-so-chance meeting with Lucy.

But whatever it is. This entry is happening, and I pray that it gets the traffic it deserves. Please pass it on. As Lucy says, “Even the voice of one is powerful.”

In her words, “My goal is to inspire those who have chosen mediocrity out of fear to reach beyond themselves…way past their comfort zone into a life of adventure and meaning. If one person can change the lives of millions causing tons of destruction (think about dictators), so too can one individual change the world for the better. Or we can sit by and watch from the sidelines, allowing complacency (fear) to rule. It’s our choice.”

Lucy, I’m going to break one of my editorial rules for you today, that rule: to be politically, socially, and religiously neutral.

Lucy. God bless you. My prayers are with you, and even more so with the women you are fighting so hard to protect.

Day 135: Teach a Man to Fish

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“My life is dedicated to giving people a second chance at a responsible life. From ex-convicts to recovering addicts to whatever, it does not matter; I want to help them.”

 There is no other way to start today’s entry other than just getting to the point. But for the sake of theatrics, I’ll give you a brief set up of the stage, let’s just call it:  Scene One: The Afternoon Walk With My Daughter. Destination: 7-Eleven for Slurpee madness. “It’s only 4-ish, we have plenty of time to run down the sugar.”

In the door and toward frozen beverage heaven we head, where it’s time for me to be enrolled in Frozen Beverage 101– mastering the flavor blend, taught by none other than daughter Radstone. It never ceases to amaze me of the art involved in a child preparing a Slurpee. Must have the right cup size, a full seal on the cap, and a full range of elbow movement for correct flow control of the lever pull.

Her preparation is masterful, and with the precision of a seasoned chemist, she mixes her secret blend. It’s a blur to me as I try to take notes, Cherry, Cola, Mango (???). I get what I can, but in the end, I ultimately give in, “Kiddo, next time I order a Slurpee, will you mix it for me?”

As always, my camera-rig is with me, so when we exchange a set of hellos with a parking lot stranger, the obvious progressing of rapport is to extend a 365 invite. Little do I know I am setting the ball rolling for a ninety-minute experience, an experience that teaches me the power of friendship, and the blessings that come from true acts of selflessness.

Say, “Hello” to new father, Manu, who right off the bat tells me, “When someone says, ‘Hi,’ say ‘Hi,’ back to them.’”

Manu talks of his childhood: “I traveled a lot as a kid, most of the states, camping with my mother. People are different out of Los Angeles; in general, they are more open and friendly. I learned from that and we need to be the same.”

From this, and pulling from his life experience, Manu gives us three calls to action:

1) Be nice to other people.

2) Respond kindly to the world around you.

3) Love each other.

Manu asks, “Can I take a photo with my son?”

“Absolutely,” I respond.

To the Jeep, Manu goes, and a minute later is standing in front of me with the most beautiful newborn. Takes me back to the days of my daughter’s infancy, reminding me to love every moment of every day.

We take a few photos and being respectful to Manu’s family, who have been patiently waiting throughout our chat, I keep it brief and end our interview with, “If you know anyone who would be willing to interview for 365, have them call me.”

Final handshakes are exchanged and off to our lives we go.

That’s it? Where is this ninety-minute experience of powerful friendship and the true acts of selflessness?

Scene Two: The plot thickens with “The Ballad of Mr. Cleve.”

I’m at home, playing with my daughter as she downs her last sips of Slurpee nirvana. The phone rings, “Hi friend, is it too late to be photographed?”

The voice is energetic, unknown to me, and catches me totally off-guard.

“I’m sorry, tell me your name?” I inquire.

“Are you still taking pictures for 365? You just interviewed my friend Manu.”

In the blink of an eye, it all makes sense. When I left Manu, I said, “Pass it on, and if you know anyone that has a story to tell, give them my number?” 

At first, my mind tells me to schedule a different day to photograph this new friend, but my instinct overrules, “Meet him now. He’ll finish today’s story.”

We agree on a meeting place and fifteen minutes later I am speaking with yet another friend, Cleve; a great dude with a giant story. I am thankful I listened to my inner voice.

At first, we are a little rushed in our conversation, prompting me to quickly throw my first question.

“What words of council do you have for the world?”

“Great question,” Cleve replies, “You caught me at the right time to ask it. It has to do with something I’m working on at the moment.”

Manu is with us and in a shared nod, Cleve continues, “Give a man a fish; you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish; he will feed himself for a lifetime. I think it’s scripture or something.”

I talked earlier of the powerful friendship and the true acts of selflessness. Here we go!

It would be unethical for me to reveal a few confidences that I promise to Manu and Cleve, and I ask you not to try to figure out any mysteries as to their histories, but this I can tell you. Manu and Cleve have paid their dues and have overcome things that ruin many a man. Yet in their trials they have found a greater wisdom. Wisdom gleaned from years of experience—experiences that have refined them into true advocates for the betterment of people outside of their sphere.

I could tell you what they do for a living, but again, it is not relevant. Rather, I would like to focus on what they are doing for each other and the world around them.

Cleve talks of his place in society: “My goal now is to help as many people help themselves as possible.”

Cleve puts his talk where his money, health, and actions are.

Out of Manu’s mouth, “Cleve has helped me so much. We used to be in business together. But even though we did not continue to work together, we remain friends. I credit him with helping me to overcome my obstacles.”

From what I understand, both Cleve and Manu share a somewhat rough history, a history that is most obviously behind them now.

Cleve talks of the process of rehabilitation and responsibility, linking it to his earlier fishing clause.

“My life is dedicated to giving people a second chance at a responsible life. From ex-convicts to recovering addicts to whatever, it does not matter; I want to help them.”

“How?” You may ask.

For one thing, Cleve has set up programs within his business to accept those who are willing to do the work in being responsible. He understands the system and the characters of those using it for their betterment vs. those who are simply using it.

“I’m here to help those who want to help themselves,” Cleve expresses.

And you know what? I completely believe him.

I ask both Cleve and Manu about their ambitions for the future.

Cleve:

First, “We all survive 2012.” We all smile at this one.

But more importantly, “I want to be able to spend time with my godson.” He is speaking of Manu’s boy.

One other note about Cleve’s character. He tells me, “I had a friend who was in need of a liver transplant. I was screened to donate him part of my liver, but by the time I was approved, he no longer could accept from a live donor. My friend is doing well now, so I plan to go through with donating it to someone else.”

It is evident as to the friendship and desire to do good that radiates from both Manu and Cleve.

In the words of Manu as he expresses his personal wishes for the days ahead, “I just want to do my best to lead by example.”

Gentlemen, thanks for your example.

Day 189: The Future of Genius

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“I’d like to see a future where education is more accessible and affordable, and a people who have a greater appreciation for each other, art and nostalgia.”

“We have to learn to shake off society. There are always going to be battles, the world is just that way. But it will always give some as you lose some. Education is the core of what future we are all left with. ”

“People have a lot of shame for following what they want, and most of our baggage is carried from our childhoods.

“I’d like to see a world where people actually learn things rather than be crammed into classrooms and having standards forced on them.”

Sound cliché or radical? Or inspired? Or forward thinking?

I’ll leave that answer up to you in considering the above words of today’s stranger, young artisan of great wisdom, Heather.

And to give us more grounds for contemplation, I give you a few links to the works of Sir Ken Robinson, a very contemporary authority on today’s flawed educational systems. In my opinion, he and Heather are on the right path. You must view this very entertaining and enlightening presentation by Ken Robinson, Changing Education Paradigms.  (Editor’s note: Sadly, Sir Ken Robinson passed away on August 21, 2020. Learn more about his work here and here).

Heather and I run into each other at a cool little burb in Venice, California.

Excuse me, run into her is an understatement… I am drawn to her.

Here I am on the street of Abbott Kenney. A gathering place for both local and nomadic travelers from around the globe. To the right of me, I hear the chatter of German tourists, behind me is a group of resident Rasta bikers; and ahead are persons of unimaginable diversity. Yet, as I pass by a quaint little corner coffeehouse, I spy Heather, paper and supplies in hand, as she approaches its doors.

At first glance, I am captivated by her apparent ease of self. And being further intrigued to meet another artist I introduce myself.

Immediately Heather’s charm and free spirit capture me, and after a short twenty minutes of curbside conversation, I am proud to call her Friend.

Heather is a people magnet, drawing hellos and brief conversations from many who pass by us as we sit on the sidewalk chatting away.

“You have a lot of friends,” I comment.

With an infectious smile, she brings me up to speed, “That’s the way it is here, we are a community, and when you live here you get to know a lot of people.”

“I’d like to see a world where people actually learn things rather than be crammed into classrooms and having standards forced on them.”

Even though Heather is infectiously optimistic, she does take a bit of time to express a few of her observations towards the pros and cons of capitalism. Focusing on the problems of flawed healthcare and the quality of our food system, she states, “Even the USDA is not organic, and our healthcare system suppresses things and does not treat illness. It’s the time/money thing. Too much is driven by greed and not a concern for the public.”

Heather goes on to brighter topics, things like the importance of personal integrity, education, and the need for, in Heather’s words, “More communication, less television screens.”

“I’d like to see a future where education is more accessible and affordable, and a people who have a greater appreciation for each other, art and nostalgia.”

Being an artist, and businessman myself, and with the support of Sir Robinson’s instruct, might I suggest that art is not just the works of imagination, but also the works of intellect.

Sir Robinson likens it to thought processes that can be applied to any discipline, regardless of the trade or position. With the aid of his findings may I propose this: Whether CEO or street artist, those who are in touch with their imaginative selves are more likely to be receptive to fresh ideas, more likely to collaborate well with others, and have the self-esteem to listen to their own inspirations in moving forward.

But sadly, as stated by Heather, “People have a lot of shame for following what they want.”

I call it the opinion filter. Defined: The laws of humility state that we should acknowledge the thoughts of others, and do all that we cannot to harm another. But we need to listen to our own mind in finalizing any objective and grow the tenacity to constantly practice the skill of dismissing any destructive input. That through applied education (not controlled, like learning for the test scores), trial, error, and successes; true and complete fulfillment of our inspired-self can occur. It’s not an easy thing to do and requires great practice and discipline. And if achieved while supporting others in the same quest, we give ourselves license to own our perspectives to the fullest. In doing so we can inspire ourselves to achieve that which brings balance and happiness to our lives, and hopefully the community. From there we may obtain greater peace of character in wholly owning who we are, good and bad.

And with the aid of Heather and Sir Robinson, we are given advice and studied methods of doing so.

Heather is very hopeful when speaking of what is ahead for us, “There will be an awakening of our higher conscientiousness.”

Sure it’s cliché, but how many times have we heard our 365 friends tell us to follow our dreams.

Cliché or not, what is important is that we allow ourselves to progress as we are inspired to do so.

Sir Robinson speaks of a 98% genius score in a study of 1500 kindergarten students, and of the staggering decrease of that percentage over a ten-year period.

Startling evidence as to the actual manifestation of the dream, and a propelling argument to rethink our perspectives on learning, personal ability, and in managing the bombardment of external influences that strike us all each and every day.

Day 128: Random Act of Kindness

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Be courageous. Look at your life, but do not reflect on it. Lean on your experiences, education, spirituality, and conscience to make your decisions, and once made, constantly listen to your self-voice and be strong and humble enough to follow your own inspiration.”

“Be present and mindful. Not an easy thing to do, to not think about the past, or the future, but to live life in the moment. And kindness can come from there. To do it you have to follow your heart and be aware enough to know we are all swayed by the media, politics, and society. Enforce your self-authority over all these outside influences in doing what is right for self and others. It’s all about ethics and morals.”

Not my words, but the words of fellow blogger Dez, the owner of allspunout365* a very cool 365-day blog with one mission, to highlight random acts of kindness, one a day for one year. Now on day 321, Dez is an example to me of commitment.

I met her in a random way, from a kind comment she places on my blog, and after reading it I am strongly prompted to reach out, enquiring if she would be open to becoming one of my 365 friends.

Until we met today, at a little cafe in Sherman Oaks, I knew nothing about Dez, other than her blog. At first meeting I am immediately smitten by her spirit. Dez is angelic and emits the most amazing positive attitude. Her energy is infectious and after having the opportunity to spend almost two hours chatting with her, I am edified in my knowledge of this fact, “There are so many good, kind and caring people in the world,” and Dez is one of the best.

Dez, purely stated, is one of those people that radiate kindness, and because of this, it makes absolute sense as to her motivation for starting her blog. Love for others is obviously in her DNA, it literally emits from her in every word she shares and the way she listens with me this day.

“I moved to Los Angeles to follow an acting career.”

As we talk, I find out that Dez is highly talented and no quitter. She is exquisitely beautiful, articulate, and educated— the kind of person that makes it in Hollywood. So why the change of heart? 

“After a while, I realized that my heart was not into it. I wanted to look beyond myself in helping others.”

At that moment of self-realization, she decided to return to academics and has followed a greater path toward helping others. Now, four months from completing her Masters in Clinical Psychology, Dez is on her true course to contribute to the world in helping others.

We talk for the bulk of our conversation about society and self-worth.

“When I started school, I wanted to work with children and trauma. But as I spend time in my internship, working in a community mental health center, I’ve been exposed to many different cases and am learning a lot. I think I’ll stay here for now and hope to work with more families.”

“I moved to Los Angeles to follow an acting career. After a while, I realized that my heart was not into it. I wanted to look beyond myself in helping others.”

Dez is a fighter. “I work at least sixty hours a week—class, my unpaid internship, and my money-making job (administrative assistant).” That does not include the time she puts into her blog and study time.

“Why did you commit to a 365-day project with all you have to do?” I must know, after all, I am a 365-day blogger and it’s rare to commune with another.

“First, I was a little bored and was looking for a challenge”

I think to myself,  A little bored? Sixty-plus hours a week and a little bored?  Dez is a powerhouse of ability and I’m uplifted by her commitment.

She goes on, “But the more I got into it, the better it felt. It is great to be a part of something positive and I’ve grown from the experience.”

“Would you encourage others to do a 365 blog?” I question.

“Absolutely! All they need to do is find anything they are interested in, to listen to their heart, and go for it. They will learn a lot about themselves and I’m sure grow from doing it.”

That leads me to a more personal question, “You’re almost done with your year, would you do it again!”

Her reply (as I though): “It’s been difficult and challenging and I’ve grown as a person. Creating it has changed my life, and it’s been motivating. I’m already thinking about the next project and am letting it evolve in my mind.”

Dez’s answer strikes hard with me. I’m on day 128 and I too am hooked! We’ll see what happens at the end of mine.

In meeting Dez, seeing other 365 blogs (there are a few out there), I too encourage you to explore the thought of starting one. I promise, even though a daunting commitment, you will be enlightened.

Man! There is so much to say about Dez, and it is impossible to articulate it in a short blog.

Our conversation is deep and her quotes at the beginning of this entry do articulate the basics of her council. I guess the biggest takeaway I can offer, “Be courageous. Look at your life, but do not reflect on it. Lean on your experiences, education, spirituality, and conscience to make you decisions, and once made, constantly listen to your self-voice and be strong and humble enough to follow your own inspiration.”

In speaking of the future, and the world, Dez starts with this (after a big pause of thought), “I can’t comment on the world, that is too big. For me, it’s not really possible to see what it will be.”

For me, it’s not really possible to see what it will be— I know she means it in a very optimistic way. And after hearing so many doom and gloom predictions, Dez’s reply is a breath of fresh air.

Picking it back up, Dez continues, “But I can comment on society and myself. For me… peacefulness in self, for society. Really think about acceptance of self and others, and learn to work hand-in-hand with each other. We all know what it’s like to be human, ‘the human experience,’ and we all know what pain and happiness is.”

Our interview is growing to a close and I’ve forgotten to tell you one thing—my daughter has been patiently sitting with us. Why do I constantly drag her with me on these 365 quests?

A two-part answer: 1) She asks to come, and 2) I’m watching her learn compassion and am proud of her for her sensitivity.”

Dez and my girl hit it off wonderfully, furthering my gratitude for Dez’s outlook on life.

So what about Dez’s act of kindness today, other than the sweetness she has shared with my daughter?

It’s called a “Yarnbomb.” Every once and awhile, Dez painstakingly knits a gift. Her gift? A handcrafted cotton flower carrying a message. A message that she randomly places on a tree, or a street post, or even in a yard. A special little offering of affirmation and hope to whoever the unknown recipient is. Bottom line, a selfless act of random kindness.

Lucky for us, today is a Yarnbomb day, and we are placing the grand marshal of all Yarnbombs, a pass it on challenge.

It works like this: we are placing it on a light pole, it reads this.

This bit of knitting, or “yarnbomb,” was made with love and care with the intention of strengthening community and kindness.

This little yarnbomb has begun its journey in Los Angeles, CA. and hopes to make it all the way to New York, NY.

Please carefully and kindly place this yarnbomb on the next tree or pole, in the next city or state from where you find it, going in the direction of New York.

As a random act of kindness.

Then pull out your smartphone, take a picture of it, and email it to the address below (making sure to indicate who you are, in what city and on what object you kindly left this yarnbomb, and any other info you wish to share).

Then, visit the blog below to update yourself on this yarnbomb’s travels, which (with your help) will be updated daily.

Respect the process.

In closing, we talk of life’s path, and conclude on one unanimous finding, “We will always be evolving and there is much to learn.”

“If I could do it all again, I would study neuroscience. There is so much going on in that field, and it would be exciting to be part of it. What is fascinating is how the study of the brain is linking to the treatment of trauma.”

Dez, I know you will do all that you dream to do.

*The All Spun Out blog is no longer posting and has been removed from the internet.

Day 46: Ten Minutes of Photography. Two-hours of Humanity

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 “Everything is so fast-paced now, you must have patience with yourself and those around you.”

You’re in the passenger seat with me. We’re cruising through suburbia and into the corner shopping center. Radio is on and we’re chilling to the tunes. Suddenly the music becomes silent. How can this be, we still hear volume, yet nothing is going into our minds? What’s up with this? Two seconds ago it was a musical feast!

As if on autopilot, we find ourselves being tugged by intuition towards two figures talking in front of the corner laundromat. The closer we get the smaller our musical background becomes.

We pull into a parking spot, just feet in front of them, and disengage the motor. As the silence grows, two incredibly interesting-looking people take hold of our focus. With no pause, our sub-conscience tugs us out of the car and drives us toward them. Well rehearsed now, we do the 365 pitch and get quickly rejected.

Yet even with the rejection, the conversation continues. We are smitten with the moment, and the depth of character of our new acquaintances will not let go of our interest. At this point, who cares if we take photos or not, these people are amazing!

To begin, let me introduce you to Antoinette, a very humble lady with 30 years of working in education, and the magnet that first catches my eye.

I sight her as she leans against the front window of the laundry establishment, grandchild at her side. At first, it is uncertain to me how well she knows the man she is conversing with, Lieutenant Colonel Kevin Boal. But as I settle into becoming part of the conversation, it rapidly becomes apparent that I have unintentionally wandered into a chance exchange between two individuals with dramatically different life experiences. What is captivating is the connection of humanity between them. I am taken in; there is no way I can change the path.

Antoinette, with great compassion, is mostly listening, later telling me of her empathy towards the Lieutenant Colonel, a Vietnam veteran and man of raw wisdom (you’ll need to visit back tomorrow when I’ll have much more time to fully introduce you to him).

Have you ever been with people who, just by being in their presence, make you feel good about yourself? If so, you already have an idea of what spending time with Antoinette is like.

We speak of faith and patience in our fellowman; something she has learned through her 30 years of working in elementary education as a teacher’s assistant. Antoinette exudes a motherly spirit and one can feel her real concern for the people around her. I see this in the way she treats our Veteran friend Kevin, even comforting him at moments when even I am overwhelmed by his stories.

I can tell this lady is special, a healer of sorts with great faith. An admitted Christian, she explains that is the source of her patience, inspiration, and compassion for the world around her. “I’m a believer in Christ. I’m not perfect, but doing my best to be a good person.” She is the kind of person that sets a life-tone worthy of mirroring. I’ll take heed to her example.

I ask her to share her council. Her simple reply: “Everything is so fast-paced now, you must have patience with yourself and those around you.”

This is a night of patience for me. A workshop of sorts in unconditional acceptance and listening, led by two masters of life, Antoinette and Kevin.

All in all, I spend over two hours communing with my laundromat friends. We talk of many things– much of the time being monopolized by Kevin. No regrets from either Antoinette or myself. He is fascinating and filled with hard-earned wisdom; so much so, that it is necessary to save telling you about him for tomorrow’s entry. Though this is a slight diversion from one stranger every night, it is the only way to give him fair representation and in keeping my blog entry to an acceptable word count.

It only took me 5 minutes to find my place this evening. It has been captivating, uplifting, and at times a little scary­­­– some back-alley stuff I’ll talk about tomorrow.

All in all, I experience one more tutorial in reaching out.

My findings: We all have stories, some dark, others not. But in the end: It’s all good!

My take away from a spur of the moment visit to a local cleaning establishment: Ten minutes of photography. Two-hours of humanity.

Day 292: What If We Pay More Attention?

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“My agenda is me first… which is probably quite similar to the rest of the human race.”

I’ll not lie. From the beginning of 365 I promised you that I would do my best to describe my feelings in one way or the other. And I have to confess that I am feeling some extreme fatigue as I drive, stuck on traffic-jammed Highway 101 en route to a production meeting later this afternoon.

Even though 365 has grown my outlook towards the people around me, as well as the love I have for those I don’t know in appreciating our differences, I have to say that today with three-hundred days of writing, interviewing, photo-imaging, less the six days I have dedicated to challenges, I am feeling a lot of stress. Stress brought on from the cumulative two to seven-hours I’ve spent daily since the inception of 365 way back in September.

But even with this stress, it is impossible for me to not acknowledge the personal growth that I have gained, as well as the closeness I feel, in a bizarre, vicarious way, to you my readers. Feelings that I am overwhelmingly experiencing as I commute. And thanks to that fun little dictation app on my iPad, feelings I can record as I navigate the traffic I’m captured in.

I have not yet met my Stranger-turned-Friend for the day yet, and I have no idea what is in store for me. It’s 11:18am and my meeting is at 2:00pm, giving me two-hours to socialize with the world. We’ll see what happens.

In the avoidance of another traffic citation, probably best to shut down this driving dictation right now. I’ll pick it back up in a few hours…

OK, I’ve arrived. Picking it up at the Pacific Design Center (PDC), site of my meeting–now only sixty-minutes away. I sit in the lobby, and as per 365 custom dictates, and despite my earlier mentioned fatigue, I smile and nod at all who pass by.

As expected, most gesture back with a questioning curiosity, “Who is this guy? What does he want with me?”

No harm, no foul taken. After all, I am an absolute stranger and to be skeptical of the darkly dressed dude sitting in the center of a very open space is quite an acceptable human reaction. So no judgment cast, we are all busy and have our own personal set of experiences. It is quite natural to be guarded to those we don’t know, one has to assume.

But one thing strikes me funny… I think of the isolated drive in the packed traffic that got me here and comparing it to the scarcity of those I find myself cohabitating with, in the air-conditioned bliss of the wide public areas of the PDC, I am forced to contemplate. And in this contemplation, I calculate one common denominator: The invisible wall that we all too often place between ourselves and the world around us, while in automobile or on foot it matters not. What is of resonance is the lesson learned in the observation, “At too many times we are a divided people.”

I do an experiment in going to the door to open it for others. Most are grateful for the gesture, and even then, there are a few people who scurry by frightened by my outreach. I can’t fully figure it out.

Makes me question, “What if we all just trust a little more. Not saying that we have to completely drop our walls—there is good reason for them many a time. Still though… I just ask that we be a little more aware of each other.

Here I am at the PDC, clock ticking down to meeting time, most people avoiding me when I meet Levi.

“Make what you love. It is the best thing you can do for yourself,” he councils.

“I think I can only speak for myself,” Levi says, “My agenda is me first… which is probably quite similar to the rest of the human race.”

Don’t judge, until you hear Levi’s reasoning.

Levi speaks of me first, but the more you get to know him, you quickly understand, Levi is not caught up in egotism and self-absorption.

“I just feel like if I curate my life, and the people that I love, in the manner that I desire, my world is going to be a lot better and more enjoyable. But it is really important that in all the things that I do, that they are also good for other people. You know, we can only make a little change by ourselves. But, at least for the immediate influence for those around us, it can make somewhat of a difference.

“It’s like, if people make smart cars. Only one person is going to own that car, so by buying it, they are really helping themselves by owning the car and are not hurting the rest of the people around them.

“I’m a super on-the-fence type of deal. I don’t think there are too many people that actually make an effort to teach things where a lot of other people learn, but it is a lead by example type deal for me. Where if people start paying attention they might learn something.”

Levi, thanks for the neighborly chat my friend, hope to run into you again!

And thanks for your example… “What if people start paying more attention?”

Day 256: Hey, I’m a Teenager… I Don’t Know Everything

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“If life were perfect then everything would suck and there would be nothing to learn. We need to find humanity. There is very little of it in our society. Everyone is all about being the best at any cost. They focus on the me: Asking what makes me happy, and never looking at how they can help others.”

I get into a sidewalk discussion with a couple of unknown neighbors. Denise (not pictured) digs the 365 Project, “You should interview my sixteen-year-old son, he always has something to say.”

Five minutes later, I’m standing at the door meeting her son, the young and brilliantly outspoken Daniel.

I’ve often said, “The future is in good hands,” and Daniel is at the front of the pack in supporting that notion.

With a perfect 4.0 GPA, Daniel is not only intelligent, but he is also wise beyond his years.

Denise invites me into their home for a neighborly visit. I have to tell you, it’s been really cool getting to know, not only the people of my city, and wherever I travel, but also those that live so close to me. This alone forces me to challenge us all to do the same. You often hear me spout from my soapbox, “Say hello to the world.” And with the experience of this entry, I guess we have to ask ourselves, “Do we know our neighbors?”

I’ll admit that until 365, I was a little reclusive in my community. That will never be the same again. The quest to know my neighbors is ramping up, and I encourage you to join me. If you have any stories, please comment. 

Back to Daniel…

“Look to tomorrow,” he proposes in positioning a secondary thought that accelerates our conversation to a deeper level. That thought?… “Today’s problems are going to be gone.”

We talk about his point for a while and agree on a conclusion. What Daniel is saying is too many people are caught up in the wants of the now, or distracted by the influences, both negative and positive, that hit them, and us, every day. We’ve called it, “The Storms Of Life,” in past entries.

At sixteen Daniel seems to have found the secret that many of us much older folks are still trying to master. The way I see it, he is living towards the future, not obsessing about the now, and letting go of what he can’t control in acting on what he can.

“Today’s problems are going to be gone,” Daniel advises.

And in his council, he leaves us a palpable action point: Do what we can now, and ponder how our actions will affect the future.

Daniel talks of letting go and of his view of the world, “If everything was answered for us, or life was perfect, there would be no point in living.

“It’s hard being a teenager. There is peer pressure, insecurity, discovering emotions, feelings you don’t understand, bullying, and starting to notice girls—a big part of being a teenage guy.

“You start to get depressed because it’s too much to absorb. You think there is no way out… but eventually, you start to understand.”

With a smile on his face, Daniel put it into its plainest expression, “If life were perfect then everything would suck and there would be nothing to learn.

“We need to find humanity. There is very little of it in our society. Everyone is all about being the best at any cost. They focus on the me, the individual. Asking what makes me happy, and never looking at how they can help others.”

Balance is what Daniel is discussing, and I am strikingly impressed that in speaking with such a young man, the topic has even arisen.

Daniel is proof to us that the future truly is in good hands; hands that are forward-thinking, compassionate in seeking a better world, and best of all… realistic.

“It’s going to get worse,” Daniel forecasts.

Yet with his prediction, he directs us in what we can do to positively influence his apprehensions of a worsening path: “Live your life in a way that you feel is actually helpful.

 “Don’t worry about what others are doing… just do what is right.

“But hey, I’m just a teenager… I don’t know everything.