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Dear Family and Friends,

Sometimes life is challenging. And sometimes life provides the opportunity to sit on a beach for a week while reading classic travel literature and eating locally grown mangoes. This past week involved more of the latter than the former.

All that sunshine has drained the crankiness right out of me. Actually the reintroduction of coffee and fried foods into my diet might have also been important factors in a return to a normative state of general contentedness.

It was a blissful start to the week on Monday when I skipped off the raw vegan farm, only to sashay directly back to the world of omnivore-ism and cooked culinary diversity. But after hearing precautionary tales of post-detox digestive mutiny from concerned friends, I proceeded with caution as I re-introduced tastiness. I broke my raw vegan fast with eggs, toast, hashbrowns and coffee, and then continued with a sweet slice of pineapple cake, ripe avocado and gooey cheese on a fresh baguette, a big bowl of chocolate and cappuccino gelato, and finished the day with a succulent grilled chicken Casado dinner.

Call me a born-again foodie. Just don’t call me late for anything cooked.

But it wasn’t just a week of filling my face with every edible morsel in sight. I also partook in a long-lost activity called “reading books.” The art of reading books was very prevalent before the mid-nineties when the Internet became popularized. Books, or “novels” as they are sometimes referred, became even less recognizable when a popular video website called YouTube was launched in 2005. Since the turn of the century, many citizens continue to hear about books, and some people even own them, but this is generally for decorative purposes. As I travel, I have become somewhat enchanted by these paper structures and the wisdom that could be possibly extracted from their pages.

I’m currently deep within the delicious literary worlds of two classic travel memoirs. The first, Walden by Henry David Thoreau, is an account of one man’s two-year journey to build a home and live off the land in nineteenth century New England. It’s an ode to minimalism, challenging notions (that, incidentally are still extremely present today) of our tendencies to prioritize materialistic possessions over life’s simplicities, such as growing one’s own vegetables and other self-sufficient endeavors. Every couple of pages I stumble across sentences that resonate with little truths that are obvious on one hand, yet refreshingly encouraging to see articulated. In my head, I constantly say, “Yes!” as I read Thoreau.

The second, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (ZAMM) by Robert M. Pirsig, is a greater challenge to describe. The novel is a mixture of a personal narrative that accounts a motorcycle journey with the writer’s son and a philosophic exploration of individual and cultural values and behaviors that doesn’t shy away from highlighting the confusions of existence.  (And incidentally, I just read a passage in ZAMM where Pirsig makes reference to Thoreau’s Walden. This synchronistic integration of my literary endeavors elicited a zesty internal squeal of delight.)

One of the many passages that spoke loudly over the past week came from Pirsig.

“You are never dedicated to something you have complete confidence in. No one is fanatically shouting that the sun is going to rise tomorrow. They know it’s going to rise tomorrow. When people are fanatically dedicated to political or religious faiths or any other kinds of dogmas or goals, it’s always because these dogmas or goals are in doubt.” (p. 151, Twenty-Fifth Anniversary Edition)

I have previously written about my perceptions and personal challenges with the concept of devoting oneself dogmatically to an idea or identity (The Contemplative Conversationalist). And after having passed three long weeks on a raw vegan farm, the passage from Pirsig resonated with me because of the robust sense of “holier-than-thou” that I continually was fed with my morning’s green smoothie. For instance, should I have a dollar for each time I heard, “If you’re not raw, you’re cooked!” I would have acquired a small enough fortune to avoid the certain debt that I will incur during this year’s travel project. My response to the self-righteous statements was to smile politely, and if I couldn’t manage a smile, I would excuse myself to do the dishes.

In witnessing firsthand this type of dogmatic conduct, I am inspired to be as pragmatic as possible. That is, I wish to encourage behaviors that are dictated by more practical applications, rather than dogma. I aspire to see people as individuals who need to make choices that will be best for themselves, rather than applying blanket policies to the world and expecting folks to fit within my personal paradigms.

I believe something powerful happens when we do this, when we give people the sovereignty to author their own life stories. When we are able to liberate our friends, families, neighbors and fellow humans from “should be” or “should do,” it suddenly gives them permission to be whom and what they are. And, after the initial shock of freedom dissipates, I have a hunch that there might be a deeper respect and trust within our relationships. In our western cultures, where we are quick to pridefully attest to our liberty, how much freedom are we actually granting to those around us?

And if I know something to be true for myself, such as the sun rising tomorrow, I’m going to use that information as a point of stability in a chaotic world – if everything else falls apart, I’ve still got that sunrise tomorrow! Yet, what shall I do if I am unsure of whether something is true or not? I suppose good old “research” can help. I could ask questions. I could reflect on the various options for living. Or, here’s a retro idea, I could learn about the world through “books”!

And finally, if I may be so audacious share a slice of advice, it’s much easer to learn about the world, to remain open to the world, when our bellies are filled with good fuel. So whether that is a raw vegan smoothie or a hot greasy breakfast, just make the choice that is best for you. And enjoy it knowing that the sun will be certainly rising tomorrow.

To smoothies! To hashbrowns! To books!

xoxo

Daniel

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