Sunrise brushes, every so lightly, the cloister’s view.
The best time to ensure your jog is self-isolating is 5 AM.
Self-isolation works well for me (or it should, if general societal anxiety didn’t creep in unbidden any time of the day). But what about those who create with others? I was reminded of a marvellous moment in Osaka last November. On a canal island, we sat, transported, with an “anyone can drop in” group of over a dozen musicians jamming on a jazz standard for … for seemingly forever. The session was led by a foppish stand-up bassist and a fast-fingered guitarist. Look at their joy! What of them now, holed up in tiny apartments? Will their souls shrivel up?
In his staggering, beautiful, and informative ode to birding, “How to Know the Birds: The Art and Adventure of Birding,” birder and magazine editor Ted Floyd takes a brief look at the genesis of my seventh decade of obsessive focus, the Big Year. Here’s some of what he says (p. 223): “Everyone who’s ever done a Big Year reports that the experience is, more than anything else, an occasion for introspection. Several of the most celebrated birding memoirs ever written are accounts of Big Years. Do a Big Year, and you’re practically guaranteed to discover new things about birds—and about yourself. ” Nearly halfway through my Big Decade, I can confirm that Floyd is spot on.
I wake to a crush of tasks, projects, commitments, and goals, all pounding my mind into dust. Headspace training … ten minutes of meditation … 2019 memories of a Japanese autumn in Kyoto and its calming colors. The hues calm me.
Get flooded! Render the words eloquent, evocative, and truthful.
Nothing thrills like January 1, the fresh start to life, the Big Years beckoning…
I’ve been on this Earth a bit over 64 years. Four years ago, I launched a Big Decade of goal-oriented daily obsession. I’ve run 11 Big Years since. Were they worthwhile?
As discussed a few days ago, my four grandiose writing-related Big Years packed a punch but were not unqualified successes. In contrast, as trumpeted yesterday, the three very different Big Years that targeted my body rather than my mind succeeded brilliantly.
At age 60, I envisaged some nutty cultural blitzes. “Read a book every day, Andres,” I promised, for example. Well, I’ve only tried one such Big Year, listening to a rock music every day over 2017. Although that habit hasn’t maintained much momentum, the Big Year was a hoot and hugely enriching. That said, I can’t see myself trying any other cultural extravaganzas for the next couple of year at least.
Something I did not imagine in 2015 was the idea of doing some interesting study each day, but I’ve tried the concept twice in recent years, with satisfying results. In 2018, my Tractor Big Year saw me committed to researching, each and every day, the vista of self publishing. Two mystery novels in late 2018 and early this year were the heart-warming result. And this year my Wings Big Year, covering the generalities of birds, has given my knowledge a fillip it wouldn’t otherwise have had. I don’t think 2020 will see any such “new knowledge” Big Year, but surely I’ll try something else in future years.
Weirdly, my 2018 Stillness Year, which involved only ten minutes a day of Headspace-app-based meditation, was a spectacular triumph. Who would have thought allocating so little daily time would add so much? Enriching my days with tiny stabs at something new will probably be a feature of the next six years.
Overall, the Big Decade idea rocks! I’ve worked harder, stayed healthier, learnt more, and added variety. Bring on the next six years, I say.
In each of the first three Big Years since I turned 60, I employed something to do with exercise. I then decided this year to drop exercise from my daily obsessions. Now I reckon I should add physical effort onto the 2020 roster. Why?
You can see from the handwritten chart that my 2016 Jogging Big Year saw a massive increase in running kilometers, from around 1,000 kms to 1,700 kms. I’ve never been as fit and trim and physically energised as towards the end of 2016. With the 2017 Fitness Big Year, I added cycling (a move that was probably a good idea, though it hasn’t panned out as anticipated), and notched up 4,000 kms on the bike while winding back jogging to 1,000 kms again. I still felt fit. The 2018 Freshness Big Year was a more holistic concept. Although it did some good, my legs broke down twice and both my jogging and cycling diminished (although they never ceased). I put on some weight.
There is no exercise-related Big Year this year. I’ve succeeded and failed again on the weight front, and I’ve reduced my distance horizons to 5 kms on foot and 10 kms on the bike (that’s puny!). I’ll end up with a more consistent year than last year but no improvement.
What has become clear is how central physical movement and effort are to my overall energy, emotions, and sense of well-being. I’m now thinking of a renewed vigorous push in 2020. I’ll announce on that front in a few days.