Live from Center City

While on a run a few weeks ago, I saw a massive Christmas tree on a flatbed outside the Art Museum. It was a golden opportunity. I approached the driver, who was out of the truck securing the tree. I asked him where the tree was from, how big it is, and what his name was. The tree was from Yule Tree Farms in the Finger Lakes, was 47 feet tall, and the driver’s name was Tom. The tree would be set up by City Hall.

I had planned on telling this story to my biology students today as an introduction to ecology. But today was also the Philly Christmas Tree Lighting Ceremony, and Channel 6ABC Live Steamed the tree the whole day. So at the beginning of class I asked if anybody lived near Center City. One student was a 15 minute walk from the tree.

I asked if he wanted to logoff Zoom, walk to the tree, and wave to the live streaming camera. I offered extra credit. After some encouragement from his classmates, he obliged.

25 minutes later, I shared my screen to the live action shot of the tree. There was my student, waving to all-virtual his classmates through a different camera. We were all filled with joy. Up close and personal, he said the tree was, “bigger than he thought it would be.” It was a magical moment, one for the ages.

In the throes of this tumultuous year, there is still hope. There is still joy. Just keep being curious and keep asking, “What if?”

How to be Here in 2020: Creating Meaningful Intentions

I don’t make resolutions as much as intentions. A resolution can be kept or broken. An intention is a standard the can be measured up to. When trying times come, the intention remains, standing tall like a stick stands in the mud. My intention for 2020 is to remind myself that, “I Am Here.”

I spent a good portion of the last decade worrying. I worried about past mistakes, about future challenges, and about if I would ever become successful. I can happily report that most of what I worried about was nonsensical, though some of it manifested as I had thought. For instance, I didn’t yet die from running a hard workout, but Flow Training hasn’t taken off as I had hoped, meaning I’m running tight on cash.

But there is good news through it all: I am still here. My feet are planted firmly on the ground and my life, though uncertain, continues on. Joyfully.

You know the smell of burning hair? The one that occurs when your hairs are singed as you carelessly cook on a gas stove? If you’re like me, you almost instantly get upset at yourself, wondering how you could be so foolish. You fail to recognize the bigger picture: maybe your hairs got burned so your skin wouldn’t have to.

2019 was the year of anger over singed hairs. 2020 is the year of gratitude for the burns and no expectations for anything less the next time I cook. 2020 is for being here, now, as the late Ram Das suggested.

I Am Here, and that’s what matters.