The lonely cry of the Peruvian Leafcutter filled the air…

I was dreaming (nightmaring?) I had to get up and go to work. I was tired and hitting the snooze button…

I woke up in the dark with my alarm going off.

5:00am

Time to get up, make instant coffee, break-fast with a Cliff Bar, stretch, and be in the water for the 5:40am sunrise.

Alarm off.

5:00 am in El Salvador has a pleasant climate. A breeze was coming in through my north-facing window, nice and cool and in the high 60´s.

North wind? The wind is offshore this morning.

Coffee.

Get up, find a mug in the community pile – and mix it strong – about one quarter instant coffee, three quarters water. The trick is to drink as much as you can as fast as possible – instant coffee tastes like mierda.

Power down the bar (and glad that it´s chocolate chip to cut the aftertaste of the coffee), chase it down with a juice-in-the-box. Manzanillo today.

More wax on the board? Nah, I´ll finally do it tomorrow… tomorrow… tomorrow…

8:00am

Eyes open, it´s light in the room. I must have drifted off thinking about what I was going to do when I got up.

Wind still blowing through north-facing window – still offshore.

Walk downstairs and buy a fresh cup of coffee from Alba.

Surf looks clean – 15 people on the point. Offshores are holding up the lip, making the usually slow sections raceable.

Power down the bar (chocolate chip). Stretch. Get a second cup of coffee – tell Alba “Cafe es mi sangre“.

8:30am. Ten people on the point. Wind still offshore. Motivation found.

Talk to an older former-gang-member-looking guy getting out of the water. (because generally, if they´re still active in the gang, they´re not active in the surf – especially in the early morning (okay, mid-morning)).

Francisco wants to check out my surfboard (a 7´10″ Takayama egg). Francisco is leaving tomorrow – he spends half of his time working in Cocoa Beach, FL. He complains that he, “never has time to surf anymore, and it´s getting harder to paddle his shortboard, and” – he pats his gut (about the size of a five-pound sack of flour). I say, “Yo tambien“, and tell him about all the time I spend in the “praying mantis” pose in front of a computer at work – and the egg is easy to paddle and can be ridden in almost any conditions (although I imagine that it might have a harder time in really hollow waves).

We´re talking boards, surf, balancing work and surf… Francisco stops. He says, “You´re a nice guy. If you ever need anything, just let me know.” (always nice to be thought of as a nice guy from a guy with serious gang-related neck tattoos)

His two friends get out of the water – he calls them over, “Luis! Mario! I want you to meet this guy, he´s a nice guy.”

He tells me, “If you need anything, Luis and Mario can help you out. We usually surf sunrise to about now. Mario lives in Tunco.”

As I´m paddling out, my mind wanders through all the things I could possibly obtain from a local former gang member.

I like El Salvador. My normal day-to-day babbling seems to mesh well with the locals.

The wind is still offshore, the tide low and just starting to push in, and the sets head-high plus. Every ten minutes or so, three to five head-and-a-half waves roll through, cleaning up the inside. This creates two distinct take-off zones.

Three long-boarders sit on the outside zone waiting for sets. One of them is Tom – a real prick who got forced out of the water by locals when I was here last year. The outside sets alternate between really racy walls and some slower sections all the way to the beach.

The inside waves stand up and race for 100 or so meters. A half-dozen shortboarders sit here – an even mix of locals and gringos with no apparant alliances formed.

Luckily, there are plenty of waves to go around. I catch a half-dozen waves (with a slightly stiff shoulder) before paddling outside to wait for a big one. On the next set, cabeza de pene Tom paddles for and misses the first wave – leaving me on the prime spot for the next. After surfing this beautifully-groomed wall of water all the way to the beach, I get out – no way to top that one.

10:30am

The wind is still offshore. All of the beachbreak looks perfect on the incoming tide. I take my camera down to La Bocana and snap a few pictures of the great surf (today´s photos). Everywhere looks great – it´s offshore, peaky head-high plus waves everywhere! Surfers getting tubed, surfers busting phat staley-fish-pop-whatevers. I get lunch where I can continue to watch the show. The wind stays offshore until noon.

I´m suprised by how unaffected I am by the heat. My advice – spend your first day and night sweating with a fever and no air conditioning. When the fever goes away, you´ll feel great! Possibly, there is more wind this year – more offshores in the morning and onshores in the afternoon. This would make sense, last year an El Niño year and this one a La Niña. Either way, I don´t miss the air conditioning.

Just another day in the Bungalow)

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It´s not the heat – it´s the humidity.

For some reason, neither feels bad right now.

Maybe that additional year in far northern coastal California has given me new perspective. Lying in a hammock, all pores open, sweating, feverish…

All the open pores feel like they are exhaling (not panting) – outgassing all of the pollution, sickness, and stress associated with the last several months of work.

I feel as if I´m slowly deflating.

There will be no surf for me today – maybe a trip into town. My shoulder is stiff from yesterday, but I do have full range of motion. Tomorrow is another day. Today is for healing (shoulder and cold).

Mangle´ no longer has a refrigerator – that changes the food/eating situation. The refrigerator isn´t the only thing that has changed…

There are a lot more people here. Not entirely negative – there are more unattched women here – but the majority seem to fall into the “backpack party crowd” versus the “surf” crowd.

Last night was a “beach party” night. At the end of the road is a restaurant with space extending into the sand (Restaurante La Bocana – named after the surf break). I did not attend, I woke up around midnight to hear the band covering “Could You Be Loved” at a faster pace – a merengue-inspired “Could You Be Loved” if you will. They played the same song at last year´s beach party. Everyone loves the song, everyone knows the words, and this is the song the local beach boys (the “crows”) use to try and “seal the deal” with the tourist women. The music (both trips), was a mix of Marley covers, Sublime covers, and Salvadoreño party music.

I thought about walking down to check it out – but I was too sick and out of it. Instead, I ate a Cliff Bar, drank another liter of water, and lay under the ceiling fan while drifting in and out of sleep. The band ended the party with “Could You Be Loved” (a crowd favorite), almost suggestively, and I imagined everyone doing there best – sweaty bikini-clad double-time reggae skanking, asking, “Could You Be Loved“?

Instead of surfing, I went into town – La Libertad. The swell was still solid overhead, and Punta Roca looked great (all the way through to the inside at La Paz). On Sundays, there is a party-like atmosphere in town. The park in front of the pier turns into a “farmer´s market” of sorts. Coconuts, mangos, plantains, pupusa stands, and just about anything and everything you would expect at a flea market. They cover about one-third of the pier with tarps – like a covered bridge – and set up a bustling fish-market. Guaranteed fresh, direct from the pangas which launch from the end of the pier. I tried some fresh ceviche, after a great sales pitch from a beautiful local woman (even though I had an irrational fear of Salvadoreño ceviche from an outbreak of something that happened back in 2000). Out of town families were everywhere – walking the pier, buying street-food, staring at the fresh, whole fish (most of the time the fish won those staring contests), and generally having a great time.

I practiced mi español with whomever wanted to talk, figured out how to ask for hydrogen peroxide at the store (agua oxygena), and decided to have dinner in town.

I am a little paranoid in La Libertad, given its reputation for gangs, drugs, theft, murder and general unpleasantness. Walking around after dark is not recommended. After dinner, I approached the first cab-driver on the town square. Ramon looked to be in his late fifties, and wore coke-bottle-thick glasses (with the 50´s style thick black frames). I asked Ramon how he was and he replied, “mas o menos”, anxiously (”more or less” – an ambivalent reply). Ramon´s truck was a thing of beauty: a pearlescent reddish paint job, fancy chrome rims, lowered, a roll bar, dark tinted windows, and an “air wing” on the back of the bed to keep the back end glued to the road going through those high-speed turns. After we start driving, Ramon asks if I like music, and cranks up the 80´s power ballads (Love Hurts, followed by Heartache). My chest is reverberating with about 400 watts of woofers – but not a tweeter to be heard. I compliment Ramon on how fuerte his stereo sounds – and he turns the volume down. I try to joke about how dark his window tint is – and he grabs a towels and starts smearing condensation over the inside of the scratched-and-tinted windshield.

The humor was not translating.

Ramon was really anxious. I was slowly beginning to understand why.

Ramon could not see.

I could barely see the road – and I have nearly perfect vision.

All I could see were the headlights of oncoming cars, the lane lines extending maybe 50-60 feet in the distance, and the street signs from 100 feet away.

It was dark. The windshield was tinted near black. The tint was heavily scratched, and the inside of the windshield was dirty.

Pedestrians and bicyclists on the side of the road? They would suddenly materialize out of the dark whem we were about 30 feet away.

When we were 10-15 feet away (from pedestrians) – Ramon would see them and sharply swerve towards the center of the road – as if he were suprised.

We drove 30 mph all the way back – with other cars honking and flashing lights and passing us at 50-60mph.

Ramon seemed truly relieved when we arrived at el Mangle´ – as was I.

Meeting the man behind the man behind the man)

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Happiness is a learned condition.

When I travel by myself, friends and family often wonder if I´ve gone mad. They´re getting used to the idea, but many do not understand it.

It all depends on what you are looking to get out of your travel.

When traveling with friends/family/significant others, the focus of the good times is sharing experiences with those travel partners – a worthy cause. This reminds me of something an ex-girlfriend once said (who had a caustic sense of humor). We were looking at a friends´ travel photos – and the photos were awful. Every single one of the photos featured either one or both of them – and they took up the majority of each photo. It was so bad that we could hardly see the landscape/architecture/things that they were trying to photograph. After a while, the ex-girlfriend could no longer contain herself. As she received the next picture, she blurted out, “Oh look! Another picture of you with different lighting!”.

In some ways – that defines my thoughts on travel with friends/girlfriends/family. The relationship can easily become the center of attention – turning the travel experience into a series of places with different lighting. Of course, relationship-centered travel can be great. And sometimes people can travel with others and have minimal influence on each other. However, I know what I am getting into when I travel solo (and most do not have the flexibility and/or inclination to go on the type of trips that I like).

While traveling solo, I am taking a minimum of outside influences into my new location. All I really bring with me (besides a surfboard and a change of surf trunks) is my attitude. My attitude acts as a mirror – what I bring to a new location is reflected back to me by whoever I interact with (and likewise, I can reflect the attitude of those I talk with).

Happiness is a learned condition – like any attitude/outlook. Once you learn an attitude such as happiness (or any other attitude, including bad ones), it has momentum and can take effort to change.

Are Americans happy? Generaly not, from what I have seen at home and abroad. Americans have more of everything per capita than anywhere else the world – except happiness and health.

Traveling by myself is an opportunity to leave all of that behind for a moment – and attempt to learn how others live. Once I slough off my bad attitude from home and work – I get to “start over” with the attitude, and seek out interaction with happy people. Traveling is an opportunity to learn other cultural ways to live happily.

One of my first interactions here in El Salvador ended with a look that said “asshole tourist”. I was (and still am) sick with a cold from earlier in the week, I had been awake all night, and I had to wait four hours until I could check into my room (and I was wearing jeans from the day before). I had asked for a cup of coffee – but somehow it came across in the wrong way. After six months of dealing with an unpleasant work situation (with over a month of outright hostility) – my outward expression had turned negative. I had learned unhappiness, and the momentum had carried over to my vacation.

The sooner I unlearn my “under fire” attitude and re-learn happiness, the better off I will be. Luckily, I have planned a strict regimen of surfing, hammock time, and practicing my Spanish.

Luckily, I have usually been a good student.

Begin the Journey)

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When in Doubt – Write About Relationships

Work, overtime, business travel, this, that – I’m glad I have set up a system to keep myself on track for this project. I find myself backsliding a bit when I get ridiculously busy and/or the stress levels ratchet up.

This is one of those times. I am looking forward to the end of the month – so I can see how well I have done. In the meantime, in a state of complete busy-ness, my impulse spending is speeding up; it’s a burrito here, an apple fritter there, unnecessary greasy-salty snack there…

As I write this webpage – now almost two months in – I receive a variety of responses from friends and family. One of the more common responses follows the line of thinking that I need to settle down and have kids. If I would only settle down and have kids – I would be content. This webpage and “search for greater purpose” would be satisfied by raising kids.

They are exactly 100% correct – in a way. If I had kids, I most likely would not be following this current thought-path and writing on this page. Not because I would feel sated by the experience of raising kids – and seek no more from the buffet-table of life. I think the reason is that I would be too tired to do anything else. Satisfaction would likely be there though – I feel enormous job satisfaction when I teach, and raising a child is probably the ultimate teaching project.

So why am I not looking to buy and outfit a house for raising a family? Shouldn’t I be putting my money and energy into “nesting” to attract a mate?

So far, my experience dating here in far northern coastal California has not been very satisfying. There are just not that many women my age here – it’s mostly baby-boomers and college kids. Most of the generation X-ers moved away from here in search of something to do (at least the ones that don’t surf). This area is a great place to raise a family – but maybe not so good for new experiences.

Of the women here who are my age and single…

I hate to make generalizations, but they just seem so focused on starting a family. They are just looking for someone suitable to have kids with. I, however, do not want to play supporting actor to someone else’s star role in their own personal reality show – I’m looking for at least a co-starring role. I know that grounded, intelligent, sincere women are out there – but if after dating for three months I need to have a talk about future and house-buying and babies and their plan – how could I not feel like my contribution is only supposed to be my seed and my earning potential?

When I watched this YouTube clip a friend shared with me recently – I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I know that this is a play on stereotypes – and it was written by a male (I’m waiting to see the counter-point to this – all you creative movie-makers out there…). However, I get the feeling that the expectations of society put an enormous amount of pressure on living out this exact type of reality. Why do so many insist that I get married, have kids and stop rocking the boat? Is this the only reasonable solution for life? I know that marriage and family can be a fulfilling, rewarding choice – but why force the issue?

Many seem to want that ideal family-scenario so badly – that they are willing to settle on their partner to make it happen. Is this even a good idea – in any conceivable scenario? (I always hear a lispy high-volume voice say “Inconceivable!” whenever I write that word – guess the movie for 10 points) Settling seems like such a recipe for disaster… How many unhappy couples are out there that only stay together for the kids – and are the kids really better off?

In this country, image is more important than reality for far too many people. And chasing that image can make people only go through the motions of life – because they don’t want to rock the boat.

I recently heard a story of an acquaintance of an acquaintance, and how they keep their child well-behaved. They told their 13-year-old son that there were surveillance cameras installed entirely throughout their newly-built tract-home (they actually do have a couple of hidden security cameras, which they can use to “prove” this idea). They even joke about it to each other in front of their son. I’m sure this keeps the boy from getting into a lot of trouble – but what does this do to the poor kid when he feels like “rubbing one out”? What do you think the chances are of this having absolutely no effect on his future intimate relationships with women? (slim, meet none…) Do you think this was a good high-tech solution to incorporate their hairy-palmed fear-mongering?

Are they doing the best they can to raise their child? Or are they trying to make child-raising as easy as possible – so it minimizes the impact on themselves. Are they engaged in the process of child-rearing or just going through the motions and creating the image of a well-behaved child?

Perhaps I am being too harsh here. I have heard before that my viewpoint is immature and that I need to accept compromises. Does maturity mean that you accept the defeat of your ideals and instead live according to someone else’s – or society’s – standards?

Don’t get me wrong here – I still think women and relationships are pretty cool. I’m still an optimist, and still a romantic (I think anyone who wants to travel around the world on a budget is both an optimist and a romantic). I haven’t given up on marriage and kids – read my Bucket List. It just seems that a significant number of individuals (both men and women) in this country are so consumed with pursuing an image of how life is “supposed to be” – that they forgot how to live along the way.

How many people refer to their relationship and/or significant other as a “ball and chain”? Probably more than you care to admit. However, these chains are not the Chains of Babylon I’m trying to escape. These were just the most project-like thoughts that were kicking through my head this week (it’s spring-time here, and the Monkey Brain notices).

In the here and now – I am growing to hate dating. Most of the time it is a pointless exercise in flying your image-kite. Like Rollins – I’m finding it difficult to find a genuine, intelligent conversation…

By the way, this is not some sort of desperate cry for dating help. Do not try to set me up with one of your friends.

If you are still thinking about setting me up with one of your friends, ask yourself – what is the probability that she: is intelligent, has a sense of humor, a good heart, active, likes surfing, nerds, travel and dogs, likes dust and missing showers on occasion, thinks post-surf nasal-flow can be funny, thinks unidentifiable street-vendor food is interesting, is okay with spending the night in bungalows with “character”, thinks the best time to visit machu pichu is when the surf goes flat, etc, etc, etc… (slim, meet none…)

(continue on to Week Eight)

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Simplify. Downsize. Get Rid of Stuff.

This weekend I had to prepare to move from an expensive house to a much cheaper room. I needed to downsize and sell off some of my stuff. Over the last couple weeks, I had made progress and sold off much of my furniture. However, with the end of the month occurring this Friday, I need to be nearly finished this weekend! I emptied almost all the remaining contents of the house into my living room to take inventory.

It was a practical idea. Two years ago when I drove here from Minnesota – I was able to downsize enough to fit all my possessions into a 6′x12′ covered U-Haul trailer (which almost killed me several times on downhill sections – but that is a different story). I eventually rented a 2-bedroom house here in California – and at the same time, my supervisor at work moved away and they sold me lots of stuff to fill up the house (because they didn’t want to have to drive a moving van across the country a second time within a year).

Anyways, I no longer have the V6 SUV to tow the 6′x12′ – I downsized to the 4-cylinder pickup – so I need to be able to fit my life into a 5′x8′ trailer. I have had people comment on my soon-to-be monk-like existence – but do monks have 5′x8′ storage units?

Placing all of your possessions into a single pile can be a humbling experience. Only then will you comprehend the obscene amount of stuff that you really own. I remember an article in National Geographic, where they would photograph families from different cultures – next to a pile of all of their possessions. As you can imagine, the more “western” and “first-world” the culture, the larger the pile of stuff.

I was very busy posting ads on craigslist. The good stuff sells relatively fast, and the okay stuff can be sold with selective price lowering – but I ended up with a pile of random things that weren’t worth posting their own ads for. The types of things that would sell for $0.25 to $2 at a garage sale.

Problem was, I didn’t want people in and out all day browsing for things to buy for only a quarter (and taking up all my time). Quite a bit of it was nice stuff – but some of it was just junk. I took a picture of the nicest glassware and posted an ad to take it all for $10.

I had a set of candle holders, about 8″ tall, that were shaped like 1950’s era competitive swimmers. A woman and a man – prepared to dive, in the starting position – arms swept up behind them – hands holding the plates that the candles sit on. The woman figurine – in her modest one-piece 1950’s era red swimsuit and matching bathing cap – had a very distinguishing feature. If she happened to be a full-sized woman, she would have the equivalent of protruding thumbs for nipples.

A few years ago, I had a Christmas party at my house. There was a white elephant gift exchange (you know the type – where if you don’t like you present you unwrap, you can trade for someone else’s). I didn’t end up with the candle holders – someone else did at the party. She hid the candle holders in it’s gift bag and set it next to a pile of empty gift bags. They were just so unique I didn’t know how to get rid of them. After I downsized and moved to California (and just exactly how did these treasures make the cut to get on that trailer??), they ended up holding candles in my bathroom – poised and frozen, waiting forever to start the race and dive into the toilet bowl.

So every one who comes to visit – when they use the bathroom – gets to view these lovely pieces of art. Most women would look at these things and complain about the protruding nipple shapes (because, once you see 8-inch figurines poised to dive into a toilet – you have to get closer look to see if it’s not a hallucination. Then WHAM! You almost poke your eye out on them). Most men just noticed the protruding nipples and would comment that they noticed.

So a young woman stopped by to pick up the nice glassware, and I had added all the “extras” to the pile. She had left me an email stating that she was moving into her own apartment and didn’t have anything (Perfect! She has plenty of space for my leftover stuff!). I found other useful items to add to the pile to sweeten the pot (besides the swimmers). There was a really nice casserole dish (I had three), a 3-gallon pot for boiling crab, uhhh… a decorative icing bag, a dumpling press, an 18-inch cooking fork…

When she looked at the pile, I explained to her that I had found some additional things for her. She instantly looked at and picked up the female-swimmer candle holder. I picked up the ceramic oval casserole dish and explained how it was oven, microwave and dishwasher safe. She looked at the nipples, raised her eyebrows and crinkled her forehead, and looked at me. I explained how she could boil the wort for brewing beer in the large pot – not just cook crabs. She suggested that she really didn’t like the candle holders. I started joking about how it was a package deal and she had to take all of it if she wanted to buy the glassware.

The Jedi mind trick worked. I helped her pack it into her trunk before she could change her mind…

So far, I’ve kept my tools, any sporting good item that would allow me to get food (SCUBA and fishing), anything that allows for the creation of art, surfing gear and other exercise equipment, and irreplaceable things like photos and art from my travels.

I have a unique piece of Mexican folk art that I am torn about keeping. It is a wood carving, from Oaxaca, of a mermaid – la sirena. The old man who owned the store where it was purchased explained it’s story to me (in Spanish – which I speak like a 6-year-old – but I got most of the translation). La Sirena is rather severe looking – and the point of this is to serve as a cautionary tale. “Don’t chase the mermaid – because if you catch her you’ll find out she wasn’t quite what you thought you were getting.”

My ex-wife did not like it (we were married at the time). She didn’t say much about it at the store, other than she thought it was ugly. She also thought “Los Barrachos” and the “Perros Bailando de Colima” were ugly – so I did not worry too much at the time. I liked the story because I appreciated the human lesson that went with it. It was a morality tale for the Oaxacan fisherman not to chase women other than their wives – because even if they caught that mermaid – they would find that the mermaid was imperfect (like their wives – like themselves – like all people have flaws, and the grass isn’t always greener…).

After the divorce I understood. When her and I were in Mexico and I had bought the mermaid – she was already planning the separation. My ex-wife thought that I bought the ugly mermaid because it represented her – and the arguements pushed the end into motion. I think it’s a great piece of folk art. I have no bad feelings attached to it – yet I am cognizant of the fact that I was married and then got divorced shortly after buying it. In some ways it does represent positive things – but the negative part of the story is always there. There is a great variety of reactions to this piece (although the most common is about hideousness, and that it is rather imposing with it’s 30-inch tailspan).

This is the hardest part of getting rid of stuff. Everything I own seems to tell me a story. From the nippled candle-holders to the two-tailed mermaid, the “older dude” poncho, the plates, the old clothes, every piece of electronic equipment, every tool, every lamp, book and kitchen appliance. All of my stuff is a reminder of where I came from and who I am. Having all of those reminders constantly talking to me – does that make it more difficult for me to imagine who I could be in the future?

It is only stuff.

(continue on to Week Four)

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WWMBD?

It’s a Human Brain’s World

Out of the three brains: the Lizard Brain, the Monkey Brain and the Human Brain – the Human Brain has the power to overcome the Lizard and the Monkey. For better or worse – our society is geared towards a Human Brain existence.

Our brains can be thought of as three functional areas – the Lizard Brain, the Monkey Brain, and the Human Brain.

Out of these three, the Lizard Brain is the oldest and most primitive. The Lizard Brain is the cerebellum and the brain stem. Lizards only have this structure – while for us it is just a small portion at the base of our skulls – “the brain is like an iPod built around an eight-track cassette player”. The Lizard Brain controls reflexes – and reflexive actions. All of our instincts are housed in the Lizard Brain. Lizards – having only Lizard Brains – do not think, they only act instinctually.

Your Monkey Brain is the majority of the tissue in your brain. This part of the brain controls much more complex tasks than the Lizard Brain – but more importantly – it controls your emotions. Most mammals operate by leading with their Monkey Brains. Mammals’ day to day actions are largely ruled by their desire and fear responses. Do you chase the pleasure or the pain? Your monkey Brain guides you (actually, the mixture of pleasure/pain you seek – combined with the spectrum of other emotions – determines what type of “spirit animal” you have. Your spirit animal is revealed to you when the Human Brain is asleep and the Monkey Brain is driving – by whatever means you choose to do that – but that is another story altogether).

The Human Brain is the outer layer of the brain – that surrounds the Monkey Brain. In humans (and dolphins), the Human Brain has grown so large that it folds over itself – causing the human brain to look – for the lack of a better term – brainy. The Human Brain allows for logical, emotionless thought – otherwise known as delayed gratification.

Depending on which article you read (and I’ll be the first to admit that I’m no brain surgeon), some locate the emotional learning center (a.k.a. Monkey Brain) in with the brain stem, while others postulate that emotional learning is how our Lizard Brains and Monkey Brains communicate. The basic idea of the three brain functions is there – no matter how you slice it. (Although Freud speculated on the Id, Ego and Superego instead of the Lizard, Monkey and Human Brains. However, Freud’s explanation of the Monkey Brain was rather twisted – much like Freud himself – and it probably reflected Freud a little more than it reflected the majority of people.)

Out of the three brains, two of mine are at odds (and that’s only because my Lizard Brain doesn’t know any better to be at odds in the first place). The Human Brain rationalizes our ever-increasing work-weeks as necessary for our survival, while the poor Monkey Brain atrophies due to lack of exercise. How do we maintain a harmonious balance between our Human and Monkey Brains? How do we balance our needs for a “career” along with all of the really enjoyable parts of being human?

Buddhists strive to silence the Monkey Brain through meditation, and release the Human Brain from desire as a way to seek peace. While this type of control over one’s brain is useful (“I can think, I can wait, I can fast”) – isn’t it only addressing the symptoms of the problem rather than the problem itself? Are not antidepressants achieving the same thing (although with many really unfortunate side effects) – “My Monkey Brain is satisfied… I feel sated”.

Of course, letting the Monkey Brain run free is probably not a good idea… unless you are a successful artist of some sort (where you get paid for your Monkey Brain outbursts)… AND you have trustworthy people keeping you out of trouble. Letting the Monkey Brain drive the ship is probably the equivalent of drinking until you black out. The human brain is no longer there to give warning that your next action may be a bad idea – and may have some negative consequences…

And this is at the heart of the question… Should we control our greedy thought-monkeys into submission, or should we find a way to coexist with our wild ape-like brains? Buddhists appear to maintain happiness by cultivating the wild Monkey-Brain thoughts into an orderly and aesthetically pleasing garden. But is there room in the Buddhist thought-garden for enjoying all-out primal fucking? ( – to use the parlance of our times…) Can peacefulness be found when just letting that garden grow some wild and weedy vines every now and then?

So the next time you’re at work, feeling like a cog in the machine – wondering how in the world are you supposed to do this for twenty more years… Ask yourself a question. WWMBD? (What Would Monkey Brain Do?)

…to be continued…

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(surfing is frugal)

Over the the month of January, I’ve had time to think about and refine my original idea. The premise is still the same – I can not continue along my present path.

Something needs to change.

I am currently finishing the task of paying off credit card debt, and working paycheck to paycheck with very little savings. My job takes most of my time and energy. I am renting too much house for just myself and my dog.

I am only one unfortunate event away from poverty.

Actually, most of us are only one unfortunate event away from complete poverty. We are not as safe as we try to make ourselves feel. This statement is not meant to make us live in fear. Quite the opposite – we should not let fear keep us from living the lives we want to lead.

In the face of all this uncertainty, I find it very difficult to work 40+ hours a week just to attempt to stay afloat. I can not buy into the system that says I should trade the next 20-25 years of my life working like a dog (and putting off the things I feel are important) – just so I have a chance of having a pension when I’m too old to do the things I find enjoyable anymore.

I’m in no position to walk away from it all today… and maybe walking away from it all is not the answer I’m looking for. That is what this year – this project – is all about. One year from now, I should be in a position to take a year to travel – or perhaps keep my job (for now) and buy a rustic piece of land and set up a homestead. These may seem like two completely unrelated outcomes, but they are similar in a way. Both options are about gaining more autonomy over the way I live my life.

I currently spend most of my time working for other people – who pay me a fraction of the value I create – so I can pay someone else’s mortgage on the place I live in and try to maintain the debt that I’ve incurred. This cycle started when I paid my way through college and grad school, and escaping this debt cycle is not a simple process.

After much thinking, there seems to be five categories I want to explore over the next year. these are:

Personal Finance

Enthusiastic frugalism. I need to pay off my debt and get my personal finances under control. I also need to put myself into a position where I do not need to be a slave to others. Over the next year I will chronicle my debt payoff and ways to achieve a state of happy frugalism. Is it possible to save enough money in one year to pay off debt and have a down payment or a year of travel? How much does my stuff really cost me?

Travel

What is the financial realty of a year of travel? I have quite a bit of research ahead of me on what it would really take to spend a year driving the coast to Chile and back. This section is the most enjoyable – researching and planning a trip brings me much happiness. What is the cost of the year-long drive? How much cheaper is it to not have a vehicle? Just in case, how much would an around-the-world year of travel cost?

The Economy and Real Estate

The value of money and employment, debt and real estate is largely determined by forces outside of our control. However, if we study and follow the money (or is it “follow the moneyed“), we have a reasonable chance of predicting what will happen next. Does anyone think it would be a good idea to purchase a Humboldt County, California house that is only priced 5% off its bubble price? What about buying a year from now? Is there a reasonable way to invest and/or save right now – or would it make more sense to pay off low-interest student loans first? What will be more valuable over the next five years – cash or assets? How about – dollars or Euros?

Employment

The golden handcuffs. I have a state job with great benefits and a pension – but not the greatest pay (compared to the work I am doing). Is it worth it in the long run? Will the pension even be there in 20 years since a good chunk of their assets are tied up in mortgage-backed SIV’s? Is self-employment a better option? How about overseas work? Are there ways that a year of travel could actually make you more employable?

Health and Fitness

Just the process of the “traditional” job and work-week is unhealthy. I’ve hardly surfed during the last 2 months – because there is not enough light before or after my work day. Besides that, wintertime brings serious surf here. It is not a good idea to paddle out into bigger surf if one is out of shape. Weekend warriors take beatings in the winter surf here. The 40-hour traditional schedule is not very compatible with a serious pursuit of surfing. Is it possible to avoid “old man disease” and continue to surf actively?

It has begun.

I have just submitted my 30-day notice to leave the house I’m renting. For my first step in Personal Finance – I now have one month to downsize.

(continue on to Baseline Budget)

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“Why am I doing this?”

That seems to be a popular question for me… why I would do something like the “Year of Living Frugally”.

I have a job. A job with a pension and health insurance. I can currently afford my bills – outstanding debt included. There are people in this rural community who would kill for the job security I currently have.

So… why?

I spend most of my time working. I do not hate my job, but I also do not love it. I can cover my debt, but I’m not getting ahead. The weeks and months are starting to fly by, and all I’m doing is accruing time for my pension. I’m restless.

It has to do with my “bucket list”.

(Okay, I stole the title from a movie I have not seen, but the concept is a common one.)

Do you have a list of things you want to do before you die (kick the bucket)?

Is it a good idea to have a bucket list?

Bucket lists lead to midlife crisis.

According to the literature, the midlife crisis is about a “desire to achieve a feeling of youthfulness”. A middle-aged male in the throes of a midlife crisis is supposed to buy a sports car, chase after young women, and conspicuously consume.

What a crock. Leave it to western medicine to treat the symptoms and not the source of the angst.

The forty-hour-per-week job usually does very little for people looking to fulfill their goals – unless their goals are to have work become the primary focus of their existence. The bucket list is only a reminder of all the dreams and aspirations that slowly move farther away while you’re putting in overtime trying to meet that next deadline.

Human beings did not evolve to spend 60 hours a week working in front of a computer. It is an unnatural act. We still have very strong instincts driving us – and we spend 50 weeks per year suppressing these instincts so we can make money to buy more useless crap to distract us from what we’re really missing. The only instincts we can regularly satisfy during the workweek are the ones dealing with eating, sleeping and sex. Do you ever wonder why – that in a country where the 2-week-per-year vacation is normal – we have epidemic levels of obesity, depression and porn?

Also interesting is the fact that Japan and India show very few instances of midlife crisis. The authors write this off on cultural differences – that the “culture of youth” is not as prevalent in those societies. I would argue that Eastern philosophy teaches one to give up desires – that desire only leads to suffering (so they are less likely to have unfulfilled bucket lists in the first place?).

So, without further ado, here is my “midlife crisis list” (otherwise known as my bucket list).

• Become fluent in spanish
• Learn to play guitar
• Travel around the world
• Live at least one year working in another country
• Surf a legitimate 3-second tube ride (3 seconds is eternity in the tube)
• Build a house (that I live in)
• Have a kidlet or two and teach them to surf
• Surf when I’m 80 (and all the years in between)

I may not get to all of them – each one of those take a dedicated time commitment.

I do need to begin working towards some of those – or my “midlife crisis” will get worse.

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During the summer and fall, I can’t think of a place I’d rather be. I love it here. However, sometimes I really hate the damp dark rainy Pacific Northwest winter climate. Once the darkness sets in, and the rain starts, and the average local buoy reading is 20-foot plus and sideways rain blowing onshore – there’s no clean surf for months. There are the rare days, when the winds die and the ocean calms – like this New Year’s Day (although the surf was too flat) – but that was the exception rather than the rule. The average surf go-out during these times means looking for waves wrapping around the protective headlands and hoping it filters the chop from 12 feet to a more manageable 5.

To survive, many of the long-time locals take this time to vacation in warmer climes. A co-worker told me I should plan next year’s winter vacation now to make sure it happens.

So on a warm sunny day, feeling the happiness, I let myself think of the ideal winter vacation (instead of the usual driving south to couch-surf with friends-and-family for a week over the last week of December).

Why not go around the world?

My ideal trip would be to drive the Pacific coast from California to Chile, then catch a round-the-world flight stopping in Brazil, Spain (with a side trip to Morocco), South Africa, Sri Lanka, Bali, Western Australia, Tasmania, New Zealand, and a Pacific Island stop or two before returning to Los Angeles (broke and jobless).

Specifically, that would be crossing the USA-Mex border shortly after Christmas 2008, catching El Salvador in late April 2009, Spain and the fall surf in October 2009, South Africa in December 2009 (their summer), southern hemisphere late-summer/fall in Sri Lanka and Bali (January 2010 through April or so), then finishing the trip in Los Angeles one year after the flight portion started, October 2010.

It’s nice to dream sometimes…

That return date would have me back home and looking for a job a few months into my 39th year. I suppose the 40’s are the new 30’s, and that would be a good time to figure out what I want to be when I grow up, no?

But… what if it is possible? What would it take to make it a reality? It seems that if one could make some money while traveling (or save up enough before starting), that it might work. I’ve also seen travelers with no money, continuing on sheer determination and the serendipitous encounters with others.

How long would you want to travel? What would you want to accomplish by traveling? How much would it cost? Would you still be employable upon return? Employable while traveling? What about my dog? How dangerous is the world these days? Could I ever give up my golden handcuffs (my job)?

A trip like this has always been an escape fantasy of mine. However, due to all the debt I accumulated in college, I’ve only been able to do a 3-month trip in Central America (back in 2000), plus some other weeks here and there. I was also on the never-ending college-graduate-school conveyor belt, which did not leave me time for extended travel (although many month-long trips were had). I finished attending college in early 2003 (after making it to 26th grade), and have been working ever since. Once you finish with whatever college experience you choose – then what? Is there a goal after that? Is a goal necessary?

Get a job, get married, have kids, work until the body and mind are wore out, retire. I see people at work trying their hardest to make every day (and every year) as similar as possible so the time passes without too much difficulty until they can retire. Are they just doing the best job they can to make themselves comfortable until they die? Are we hard-wired to enjoy our routine?

The ever-present credit-card debt (which began 15 years ago) will finally disappear in a few months. The student loans have about 18 more years, but it’s locked in at a historically low rate and manageable. I will soon be in a position to seriously consider this path for myself (escaping, not the mind-numbing rut).

Over the year, I will share the results of my research to explore how feasible this type of travel can be. If it goes well, this will shift to a travelogue explaining the preparation for such a trip, then the trip itself.

I suppose I can just stay at my job and be happy with my 2 weeks of vacation a year. You know, plunk down the credit card and charge the yearly pre-packaged trip – but most of those trips are 8 countries in 10 days in the bus full of drunk tourists who cashed in on one-to-many drink vouchers. This potential travel will include spending more time in each place to learn about the world, to become fluent in Spanish, to see where I can take my surfing abilities before the long, slow decline of “old man disease” really sets in, to explore employment and living situations in other countries, and most of all – just living in the present and experiencing the world.

The time may be now or never.

(continue on to The Year of Living Frugally)

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