Last Sunday my spouse and I were walking together on a trail in Wisconsin when she tripped and fell. Being experienced hikers and walkers who enjoy exploring even into remote areas including backpack trails, mountain hiking and the like, of course we know that we should carry a First-Aid kit. Or at least a Band-Aid.

We had Kleenex, one of those little pocket tissue packs. When she fell she caught herself with her hands on bare rock, came down on her knees, stood up and dusted herself off and saw blood beginning to ooze. Her left hand had a nasty bit of a gash just at the base of the thumb. She sat down and collected herself, got out a tissue to cover the cut, put some pressure on it to slow the bleeding, and elevated her hand so it was higher than her heart. She didn’t really have the wind knocked out of her, but the reality of our situation started sinking in: we had a couple miles to go even to get back to our lunch stop (enjoyable burger and salad place) and no way to get off of the trail except by walking on. She asked me if I had anything with me. Like a Band-Aid? Or some Neosporin? A first-aid kit with gauze bandages and adhesive tape? Some of those little butterfly things that close a cut? ANYTHING? I had a mini-size pocket knife multitool. And a plastic cup of cold water. Oh, and she had a plastic restaurant take-out filled with leftover salad and half of a cheeseburger.

This trail– the one we like best & walk as often as we can– goes around a lake. It’s known as “the shore path,” because you are almost always in sight of the water. People like it because it is scenic and lovely and not too difficult. You hardly ever worry about a crash landing. That day we had seen a few other hikers out, but strangely it seemed Moms With Nursing Infants in Chest Carrier Day. So we were on our own. I began looking around on the ground for anything that might help us, like a piece of tape. Or string. A clean water bottle. Anything to boost the spirits would come in handy.

I saw a plastic Ziplock back on the trail maybe 8 feet from where she was seated, picked it up, and inside was a brand-new clean roll of sticky material and a sheet of instructions. It was somebody’s kit for sail repair, conveniently dropped right where we needed it. For no apparent reason but that she had a cut that needed bandaging.

We used the sticky sail stuff to create a makeshift bandage out of the Kleenex. I even cut it with the multitool knife! Sipped some water, gathered our belongings and she stood up holding her left hand in her right and keeping the hand elevated. She was able to walk the next mile & then we stopped at a summer camp place that had an open building with chairs and a bathroom accessible, so she could sit and wait. There was even a lady at the desk who offered help and real first-aid equipment. My spouse declined, because the sail repair stuff had been doing a great job of holding her thumb from falling off. So I went on, got the car, drove back and picked her up.

Then we went home and made some tea. She washed off her hand and really looked at it. We went to the Emergency Room. She got stitches. And purple elastic stuff wrapped around to keep the pressure on. It worked almost as well as sail-repair.

Here is the question: how does life DO that? Figure out what you need to move ahead and then drop it into your lap at the exact moment, and then act like nothing happened?

The photo above is a pro cycling road race nearing the finish line, everybody digging hard in the final sprint. I’m rooting for the guy in orange over on the right.

Stage 2 of Joe Martin Stage Race, Fayetteville, Arkansas, USA April 1, 2017. Winning time 4:23:29 over a distance of 115 miles.

ONE LIFE

In the movie Breakfast at Tiffany’s there is a nice scene where Holly (Audrey Hepburn) and Paul (George Peppard) visit the New York Public Library. She’s never been, whereas he is a writer and you can tell he knows his way around. They pull a wooden drawer, take it to the front desk, and wait patiently for a book to appear: Nine Lives by Paul Varjac. His book.

It impresses Holly that his book really is there, and Paul starts to inscribe the title page, then gets reprimanded by the stereotypical librarian (Elvia Allman), so they leave to continue their exploration of NYC and taking turns “doing things they’ve never done before.” Of course, they’re falling in love, though she’s refusing to admit it. He can’t think of anything else.

LIVE BIGGER

In the Truman Capote short story (well, short-ish) that scene does not appear. In fact, Paul does not really appear– he’s a nameless narrator remembering his earliest days in NYC and the most unforgettable person from those days, the gorgeous but elusive country-girl-making-it-in-the-big-city– Holly, who could have stayed in Hollywood but instead just kept the name while she morphed her life into something based on the fact that men were willing to spend money in order to spend time with her. Draw your own conclusions.

Doing things we’ve never done before: it’s a nice metaphor for Really Living. Don’t get caught in the rut, repeating the same day over and over (different movie– thank yous to Harold Ramis & Bill Murray), but make each day count for something! Live your life!

But don’t turn into Holly. Find your adventures. Say “Yes” to taking that chance. Be the best version of You. But if you come home to an apartment devoid of furniture, your only companion a cat you’ve refused to name, maybe you’re overdoing it. Even if you do look like Audrey Hepburn.

THIS BLOG

This blog is about getting the most out of life. Be more, do more, learn more, live more.

In a boat there is an edge you can feel underneath you. A power boat, a sailboat, a canoe or kayak. The forces around it are playing on it– the wind pushes, the current flows, the tide subtly buoys you along in some direction you can barely feel. And you have a wheel or a tiller or a paddle– it’s in your hand but it’s subtle too, and you keep the boat riding that edge that means you are sort of heading mostly where you want to go and sort of responding to the totality of unseen forces.

This blog is about keeping your life on that edge.

I’m a total amateur when it comes to photos and films, but I like the craft of photography and I have a list of movies that I like to talk people into watching. It doesn’t usually work, but I keep trying. You see, they’re in Black & White.

I like films in Black & White, and I like films in Color, but you don’t usually have to try to convince people to watch a movie shot in Color. Black & White is different. Some people don’t like it. I guess that makes it a challenge. I have a couple of theories about looking at images in Black & White– theories based on how the retina (that’s the inside of the eyeball where the light lands) actually sees, and on how people (prehistorically speaking) became people,  sitting around a campfire. They’re personal theories not based on anything academic or professional, but on a subjective examination of how we react to images. Color images are wonderful, and I love them. I am not against the use of color in film and photography– but I also like Black & White, and I think it is still a wonderful medium for film.

I have a list of my personal favorite films shot in Black & White, and it includes a couple of the movies that won Oscars for Best Cinematography. Examples are The Hustler (1961) in which Paul Newman plays a pool player, and The Third Man (1949) in which Joseph Cotten investigates post-war Vienna.