Past Mosaics

Oriental rugs for sale 

We went on a 911 call last night to a lady that had fallen.  I let my EMT partner run the call as it was well-within his scope of practice, and I was content to drive the ambulance to the hospital.  Sitting next to me during the 10-minute drive was the patient's brother, an older African American man who struck me as being both very pleasant and very supportive of his sister.

A conversation ensued and I discovered that the gentleman had spent over 15-years working for the U.S. Postal Service, however prior to that he had retired from the U.S. Army after twenty years of military service; that was our common link and became the subject of a short conversation.

What struck me was that my new friend didn't wear his military service nor his time spent in Vietnam on his sleeve.  He confessed that it was his goal when he retired to leave that part of his life behind and to look forward to other new adventures and opportunities.  My friend did not want to be one of those retirees that spent the remainder of his life in the VFW reliving his past; identifying and labeling himself as a veteran for all to see.  He believed that if he did so his entire identity as a person would be contingent on something that he had done many, many years ago and not on who he was today. 

I listened to the wisdom of this man seated next to me in the shadows of the ambulance, and it was as if he were speaking for me as well.  Like him, it was my fervent wish when I left the military; no U.S. Army Retiree baseball caps, no veterans license plates.  It was my life then and now it's not.  It's that simple.

This is not to say that people should not be justifiably proud of their accomplishments in life, but don't let them become your sole identity.  We're all so much more than what we did in the past.  A better measure may be what we are doing right now.

Change

I've changed the template and the layout of the blog, it's the first time that I've done so since it's inception three years ago. I have no eye for graphic design so thankfully there are templates to choose from.

I was never a huge fan of change, but over the years I've come to almost ignore it. Everything changes; not for the good or the bad, it just does. It's not the change that's good or bad, but rather the qualitative value that people want to hang around it's neck. If we could stop evaluating, categorizing, naming, or judging things I think we all would certainly find greater happiness.

Karma At Barnes & Noble

As I was walking into Barnes & Noble yesterday afternoon a young African American woman approached the door at the same time from the opposite direction. She was nicely dressed in jeans, a colorful shirt, and knee-high boots. Just as she approached the entrance a voice cried out in a leering tone, "You're awesome! I'm married, but you're just awesome. Come over here for a second and talk to me". A middle-aged African American man was leaning up against the wall, obviously waiting for someone, but the girl just continued on her way and eventually entered the store.

I felt sorry for her and the the fact that she had to endure that sort of treatment from a complete stranger on the street. Why did the man feel it was appropriate or acceptable to speak to anyone that way? I wonder what he would say if someone approached his wife or daughter like that. "Wow", I thought, "your karma sucks." Then I realized that it wasn't just his. He affects how that woman, and probably countless others, view men, of which I'm included. So his karma is now linked to mine. When I realized that, I opened the door for the woman and apologized that she had to endure that sort of treatment. Can we delink our karma from others? I don't think so. What one person does, affects us all. Please smile at the next person you see, because that guy at Barnes & Noble is going to need all of the help he can get.

Random Thoughts From A Himalayan Cave

Door knocker on the door of a Chicago Chinese restaurant

I've spent the last several days pretty much by myself, which is generally a good thing for me. I'm not a very social person, and would do very well in a Himalayan cave meditating for eight years. To that end, here are some random thoughts.

- I don't like zoos. While I understand the purposes; money, research, and display. I think we as humans can do better.

- BRicks (Bike-Run, ick!) workouts are the bane of most triathletes, and I dislike them as much as anybody, but they're a necessary evil for me this year as my bike-to-run transitions suck.

- I need to go to the zendo tomorrow morning and sit… a lot.

- Matt Damon's Green Zone is a good movie, and I enjoyed it very much. I like Matt as an actor.

- Paramedics need to think clinically and have a good medical reason to "collar and board" a patient. Mechanism alone is not enough.

- Chain sushi restaurants tend to be not very authentic and not very good.

- I like Barnes & Noble's electronic book reader, the Nook very much. I'm an Amazon Kindle owner, but am considering trading up.

- I don't understand why funeral processions have the right of way and are allowed to inconvenience hundreds of people along the route. Certainly this wasn't the deceased's last wish? I want to pass the deceased in my car, not drive over him.

- I need to go fly fishing but the Chattahoochee River is too swollen with all of the recent rains. I'm not a good enough fly fisherman to lure a trout out of a fast-flowing, murky river.

- I need to call my parents.

Just Live A Good Life

I had a conversation with a life-long city EMS medic a while back and we were speaking about traveling. He told me that during his fifteen years of EMS that his one great regret was that he had never really ventured very far away from his native city, certainly not overseas. We exchanged stories over coffee and he confided in me that he was actually envious of my life; that I spend it traveling from one distant land to another, having the chance to see so many places and their people.

I've been down this road before and cautioned my friend that everything has it's downside. He looked at me quizzically as I pointed out that he has the luxury of coming home every night to his family, his wife and kids, never missing a single birthday, a ball game, or a school play. In many ways it was I who was envious of his life, doing what he loved and sleeping in his own bed every night.

As the morning coffee ended I think that each of us realized that we were both doing exactly what we wanted to do, however no life is perfect. Everything has it's upsides and its downs, and not everyone's DNA is programed to explore the world and conversely not to remain static. Each has it's own goals and aspirations, neither bad nor good, just to live a good life.

Chicago

Chicago-style houses. What a great city!

I spent a few days in Chicago this past week, a city that I don't have a lot of exposure to. I made it a point to walk around a little bit and explore with my camera. I wanted to shoot in RAW, which is an uncompressed image file direct from the subject right to the data card on my camera. The RAW files are large, but have a lot of detail, and I wanted to see the difference between RAW and JPEG. I also played around with some other settings on the camera, as well as the new version of Apple Aperture to edit. The result was 120 shutter snaps and six shots that I edited and liked, well below my average. Maybe I'm becoming more selective.

I enjoyed Chicago immensely, it reminded me of a much bigger Boston, as city that you really want to walk around and explore. I was impressed with the number of athletes there, the running and biking trails were full of early-morning athletes braving the frigid downpour. I need to come back again.

My Path

I got an email from a wonderful friend of mine the other day asking about Buddhism. I typed my response to his questions, and later thought that it may, in some way, assist others that had similar questions. I'm by no means an expert, so your mileage may vary.

Zen, or more generally, Buddhism is many things to many people. For some it's a religion, for others its a personal philosophy. The great thing about Buddhism is that it doesn't care one way or the other. No one will ever tell you what to believe; this is right and this is wrong, this is good and this is evil; Buddhism lets you make those decisions for yourself.

As far as books, there are a plethora; most of which are very ethereal and difficult to understand for the brand new lay practitioner. Having said that, my favorite book in this whole world is Lama Surya Das', Awakening the Buddha Within. I read this book every year, and while Surya Das is a very practiced Buddhist he only uses Buddhism as a framework to find greater spirituality in one's life. So it's really applicable to everyone that is seeking. Surya Das' book serves as a great primer for Buddhism and how it can fit into and augment your daily life. That's my number one recommendation.

As stupid as you may think it is, Buddhism for Dummies or Idiots is a good book to sort of help you make sense of the larger things that you may see or feel. In other words, what is the difference between Soto Zen, Rinzai Zen and say Tibetan Buddhism? It helps you understand the major muscle movers.

I'm just back from Haiti, now working on the ambulances for a few days before I jet off to Mexico for a few months. Good luck in your search.... I hope that you find nothing (Zen koan).

-eric

Los Chilenos

The jury is still out as to what exactly this is. I saw it buried in the woods as I was driving down an Atlanta country road during a "snow storm". It was like seeing Bigfoot.

Just as I was loading my final dirty clothes from Haiti into the washing machine , Chile happened, and I considered the possibilities of immediately deploying to the new earthquake zone. After five weeks in Haiti the prospect was not that appealing, besides I was on Daddy duty all week while wife attended an out-of -town conference.

I lived in Chile for over a year and have traveled what seems like every mile of that country, from it's Antarctic base in the south (I concede that it's not sovereign territory) to the salt flats of the north near the Peruvian boarder. Chile is not Haiti. The Chileans are no strangers to natural disasters and are well-prepared to respond to them as evidenced by rapid mobilization of it's military and world-class police force. In Haiti, I didn't see any public security on the streets for three weeks, in Chile they are in every media shot coming out of the disaster.

Granted the Chilean quake was of a different nature than Haiti's, but even so the damage was minimized with strong construction techniques, disaster preparedness plans, and superior medical capabilities. I would venture to say that aside from the west coast of the United States, and the country of Japan, Chile is one of the most well-prepared countries in the world to deal with earthquakes. Bien hecho los Chilenos.

In The Blink Of An Eye

 

Cameraman captures explosion near Baghdad's Green Zone

A shopping plaza sits just off the highway in southern Atlanta's neighborhood of Camp Creek, an area that is almost all upper-middle income African American families.  It's on my way home from picking up my son from school, so we stop into Barnes & Noble to do his homework and maybe a quick breeze through the pet store to look at the reptiles; he's six.

On the way into the pet store a man crosses the parking lot and heads towards the store entrance as well.  My spider-sense starts to tingle, this guy doesn't belong.  He's white and disheveled looking, two things that make him stand out among the normal cliental.  He's not a laborer on his way home from work, and his gait is way too strong and purposeful. 

In an instant I switch over, my senses heighten, and I'm totally aware of EVERYTHING.  We enter the store and head to the back, moments later the man appears again, brushing past me as I move between him and my son.  As he walks up the isle away from me he does an odd little twitch with his right elbow that is a common tell-tale sign of someone that is carrying a gun that is not used to doing so. Time to go.  I grab my son by the hand, located the man in the store surveillance mirrors, and find the best way out to the car and away.  

In the car I tried to explain to my son why we left so quickly, but it was beyond him.  I took stock in how quickly I switched over, all of a sudden I was in Haiti, Baghdad, Colombia .  It all came on like a flash of light; skills, senses, angles, egress, contingencies, it was game-on in the blink of an eye.

The Un-Buddhist

When people find out that I'm a practicing Buddhist they're a little surprised, I suppose because I don't fit their image or notion of what a Buddhist should be like or even act like.  That alone is an issue, but not for me to wrestle with here.  I normally respond to their quizzical looks with, "What?!!  I have the haircut." 

People's preconceived ideas of what Buddhism is or isn't is actually a source of great humor for me.  Practicing Buddhists are seen, at least in many minds, as peaceful, stoic, and deeply thoughtful, but I'm here to tell you, 'that ain't me'.  My wife often chides me about being the most un-Buddhist Buddhist that she has ever known; of course I think I'm the ONLY Buddhist she has ever known for what it's worth.

Being a Buddhist, in my very uninformed opinion, does not make you emotionless, its exactly the opposite.  Emotions are very intense and well-felt.  When I'm happy, I'm happy; when I feel saddened by something, I'm sad.  It's that simple.  I think the difference is that I don't carry those emotions around with me for days on end, letting them dictate my thoughts and actions.  Emotions are like a house-guest, when they're present they get all of your attention, and when they leave… they're gone.

As far as being 'deeply thoughtful' is concerned… not so much :)

No Straight Lines Before June

 

It's time to get back on the bike again, as I haven't been in the saddle since I dismounted my Cervelo back in August during Ironman.  At that time I handed my bike off to a race volunteer and quietly bid it good riddance after spending so many long months it it. 

My yearly bike training always starts with the same routine; working through Troy Jacobson's Spinerval training DVDs.  I've found that there is nothing better to get you to come out crazy-strong in the Springtime than the Competition Spinerval series coupled with some work in the weight room. Of course the issue is that once I finally do get on the road my bike handling skills are rubbish.  I'm able to maintain some very high wattage but can't ride in a straight line until June.  Let the adventure begin.

Editing For The Future

 

A little girl in the hospital in Cange, Haiti.   An average shot that I spent some time editing, and  now think is fairly presentable. 

I've been photo-editing for the past 24 hours or so, playing with an Apples Aperture upgrade from 1.5 to 3.0.  It's a nifty piece of software that lets me do things within my editing capabilities, and while I have Adobe's Photoshop, it's just bigger and more robust that I really need. It's been exciting to walk through so many photographs, to venture backwards in time and remember people and places through some of the shots that I'm revisiting. 

Photography is doing exactly what I hoped it would do, documenting the things that I've seen and people that I've met along my path of travel.  In my past life I never took a single photograph or came home with any memorabilia; twenty years of traveling the globe and I had little to show for it other than memories and some good bar stories.  Now that I'm shooting my children and grandchildren will be able to look at some of my shots and see the same things that I did, stand where I stood, and feel the same emotions of the moment. This makes me happy.

Finding My Feet

I saw this shot and of a girl on the streets of Port-au-Prince and it absolutely floored me

Today was the first time that I've ever come directly home from a deployment to a third-world country, as the normal practice is to spend a day or so someplace decompressing before you introduce yourself back home to your family.  I landed in Miami airport today, directly from Port-au-Prince, and the first thing that I noticed is that it smelled of perfume, a foreign smell to most parts of Haiti these days. 

Even after arriving in Atlanta I had an overwhelming sense of un-balance, a feeling of being overwhelmed and even foreign.  I know that after I get a full-night's sleep that I'll be better in the morning, but in the meantime I'm continuing to try to get my feet firmly underneath me.

Happy Birthday to my 6-year old son today!!!

Aftershocks

 

The cathedral in Port-au-Prince; the destruction is immense.  Worshipers are camped out around the building throughout the day and night, although I'm uncertain what they pray for.

We've been having a lot of aftershocks lately. I'm not a seismologist, so I can't say for certain that's what they are, but they seem to come at night and violently rip you from your sleep.  Night after night they've been getting stronger and stronger making me consider things before I go to sleep at night, like do I have a clear path to the door?  How many steps is it to the exit, and what if anything should I bring with me?  What are the alternate ways to outside and how do I get to them? I've seen too many flattened buildings, to include hotels, not to have these weigh heavily on my mind.

I leave on Thursday morning.

Fist-Bumps and Missing Teeth

A long day today, I spent most of it in a hospital west of the city looking at a variety of post-earthquake patients who had lost limbs.  One little boy in particular captured my attention.  He had recently lost his right leg above the knee and was learning to use his new crutches.  From what I could gather he had lost all of his family; he was 9-years old and alone in the world. I saw him and we immediately bonded, he awkwardly shuffled his crutches around so he could return my fist-bump.  He got it done; his name was Sebastian. 

As we stood there side-by-side in the sticky Haitian heat; he looked up at me and smiled, he was missing his two front teeth. I took comfort in the fact that they fell out naturally and finally there was something that was not a result of the earthquake.  I remember thinking, if there were any kid that I would adopt and take away from this place it would be my resilient little hero balancing on a set of crutches next to me.  My thoughts went back to the starfish parable; I can save this one.

In the end, we exchanged fist-bumps and toothless smiles.  I silently said a little blessing wishing Sabastian well and walked away.  I want to go home.

Not Soon To Forget

I spent the morning in a 77,000-man tent city that was occupying what used to be a country club golf course.  The irony of the once manicured lawns now housing Haiti's most desperate was not lost on me.

To describe what a tent city is like is next to impossible, at least for me and my limited literary skills.  The heat was unbearable as we struggled up hill after hill making our way down tiny alleys between the makeshift dwellings constructed of plastic tarps, dirty sheets, and sticks. Children played in the filth and dust as parents sold packs of gum or candy in front of their "tents".  Inside, behind the plastic, were the family's entire possessions; a mud-covered mattress, a handful of dented pots, and some soiled blankets. 

The smell of rotting garbage, urine, and human and animal feces all combined in the baking Haitian sun to form an oder like nothing I've ever experienced in my lifetime.  Flies picked at my face and body until I couldn't take it anymore, and I certainly didn't want to think about were the flies had just come from. The children smiled but the adults mumbled the same pleas for help over and over, reaching out to you with dirty, emaciated fingers trying to touch your arm to get your attention.  This is a degree of misery that I've never seen before, and have vowed to not soon forget.  No words that I can craft are capable of describing the human suffering witnessed today. 

Photogs Up Close

 One of the really good things that has come out of my experience in Haiti is that I've had the opportunity to mingle with and observe dozens of professional photojournalists.  These guys and gals go out every day and document the thousands of stories, and then come back to the hotel and sit around the bar selecting, editing, and sending their work around the world.  It's been an unbelievable opportunity and privilege to watch this process up close.

As I sit here there are several photogs looking over their day's shots on small MacBooks, and editing in Photoshop.  They're serious and pensive within the process, and once the work is fed they grab a beer and relax for the remainder of the evening.  The ever-present question is how long they should stay, when does the story run out?

Here is what I've noticed from the photog community:

• Most use Cannon cameras, normally two, one slung on each shoulder
• Photo vests are for PSDs.  Security ruined the vests for photogs.  Now its backpacks.
• They all seem to edit in Photoshop
• There is not a lot of sharing or viewing other's shots, but they will show you if asked
• Way too much smoking going on during the editing process
• NGOs pay better than magazines
• There's a difference between shooting art and news
• During the moment, hold the hammers down, try to stay in composition and focus
• All have agents they send their photos through
• Macs are the laptops of choice
• Skype gets them back home at bedtime
• The average salary is extremely hard-earned.  This life comes at a price.

Reality Break

 Incongruent scenes in Haiti

There is a film crew set up at the pool that has been filming a local television commercial all day. The scene depicts a sort of goofy man in pool attire with iPod, sun glasses and drink sitting on a toweled lounge chair next to the pool. Given the degree of suffering in Haiti I find the image almost obscene, completely incongruent with reality.  It then struck me that this is how most of us live our everyday lives, divorced from the reality that surrounds us.   We are so wrapped up in our dreams or desires of pool-side scenes, or memories of our last vacation that we miss what is going on right here and now. What a great commercial it turned out to be!!

A Little Bit Of Planning Goes A Long Way

 

A man waits in the Haitian sun to be seen General Hospital 

Yesterday was a lot of waiting around, the bane of the security world.  Most of the my productive day was spent at the airport with a client waiting for their Gulfstream G300 to come in from Florida to take them back to Miami.  When it finally landed it was full of nine medical people and about a thousand pounds of supplies.  What people fail to realize is that Port-au-Prince is a barely functioning airport; there are no ground or baggage services. As a result the nine newly arrived medical guys and their pile-o-stuff just sat on the tarmac waiting to get blown away by the next jet that came by.  I had to laugh as it was evident that the group had failed to plan for even this most basic of contingency. I would have helped by my job was to get my client on that aircraft so they could leave... and that I did. When I left the crew was trying to man-handle a luggage cart across the active ramp to load up their 1,000 lbs of bags, boxes, and water as a Canadian C-17 was baring down on them.