I can’t help but feel there’s something in the air these days. A pandemic sweeps the world. Capitalism continues to crumble under its own ineptitude. Republicans are giving out unconditional handouts to the poor. Earthquakes are shaking Tahoe. And, of course, people are hoarding toilet paper like it’s going to grow into an apple tree.
It must be spring!
Truth be told, times are very strange, and sure to get stranger over the weeks and years to come. In between stress-consuming the news and social media, I’ve been working on my winter projects and figuring out this whole what do I want to be when I grow up? thing.
The Ranch
Back in December, Jess and I took a hike down to the ranch for a quick overnight trip. In the winter time, the 12 mile road to the ranch stays unplowed and covered in feet of snow. So the best way down is through some old ski runs that sit next to the highway above. This was officially our first ski tour together (aka backcountry skiing) and got to spend some quality time with big fires, snowmobiles, and cozy cabin time.
Unfortunately, this was also our last ski tour of the year as it didn’t snow again until a few weeks ago, when all the ski resorts closed and emergency personnel started begging people not to go into the backcountry. Oh well.
Timber Framing
In January, we flew out to Maine to take the a timber framing workshop at Shelter Institute. Along with about 20 other people, we cut, laid out, chiseled, and assembled a 24’ x 24’ frame. For those that aren’t familiar with timber framing, it’s the practice of using large timbers (at least 6” x 6”) and using traditional wood joinery to put a structure together. Which means no screws! No nails! Just the right mortises and tenons and some wood pegs to secure the whole thing.
Shelter is kind of a weird company. A real family owned business, sort of a split between a construction company, tool shop, and trade school. They’ve been teaching people how to build houses since the seventies. Building your own house is a form of freedom. Not just in an economical sense, but in a very real empowering sense. Do you know how to fix your bathtub drain if it ruptures? You would if you built your house.
The plan is to take this knowledge and build some stuff for fun out at the ranch this summer. That idea was a lot more promising a few weeks ago, but at this point it doesn’t feel like a great idea to have a big gathering of people any time this year.
Getting Things Done
If you’ve ever worked with me, you probably know me as That Person who goes through the bug tracker and incessantly comments is this still an issue? What can I say, I love lists. Winter provides me all kinds of time to sit in my office, stress about the paperwork piling up, and generally worry about all the things I’m forgetting. So a couple months ago, I re-read Getting Things Done and damn if I didn’t remember how much I love this book.
I know, I know, the word productivity is a big sigh for most people, let alone a phrase like getting things done. But here’s my challenge: Do not think about GTD as a way to increase your productivity, think about it as a tool for reducing anxiety.
If I had to try and summarize Getting Things Done, I might say something to the tune of:
Getting Things Done is book that explains how to transform your worries into lists and get them out of your head so you can enjoy whatever it is you’d rather be doing.
The gist of it is:
- Make an inbox for everything in your life
- Go through that inbox and add it to a list
- Keep reviewing that list and keep it up to date
- Do all this regularly and don’t let your lists become untrustworthy
I know it seems silly, but it’s probably one of the most powerful tools I know of to reduce anxiety. The key here is to build systems you trust. If you have a calendar full of stuff you might do, you don’t have a calendar — that’s a wish list. If you have a todo list that you don’t look at, all you have is more junk.
Anyways, if you think GTD is cheesy or avoided it because it sounds too nerdy — think about giving it a try. It’s one of my favorite books, and one I’ll continue to revisit throughout my life.
It’s been a few weeks.
That’s partially why this newsletter is a little late. It feels more than odd looking back on what I’ve been doing all winter when so much is happening right now. I was due to send this out a couple of days after California issued a statewide shelter-in-place, and at that point it sort of felt like anything could happen.
Which is a silly way of thinking. Anything can and does happen all the time. My own world has been shaped by a lifetime of war, corporate greed, corrupt governments, the militarization of police, secret courts, and the hatred our country feels for its sick and poor. My generation is pretty used to anything happening because it’s been this way our whole lives.
Things will be different. But they will also be the same. For however much people think this virus has changed the world, this is just a warm-up for what’s coming as a result of climate change.
We have to get better at change. The world has been changing for a long time now while America has chosen to shove its head in the sand and dream up fantasies about going back. Going back where? To a dream, maybe. I’ve never been able to figure that out.
We’ve spent decades building up our war machine, working on ways to deny people healthcare, denying people rights, and worshiping The Economy as if it were God. And it has left us vulnerable and weak. None of this has been building toward a greater good or leaving a better world for our children. None of it has made us more resilient.
Maybe this pandemic will serve as a wake up call. A way to yank people out of their dreams, look at the world that actually exists around us, and start to think about moving forward. That’s my hope.
In the meantime I’m thankful to be in a safe place, comfortable, and entertained. I may not be able to go snowboarding or out to my favorite restaurants, but all in all life isn’t terribly different for us. We’re still waiting for the snow to stop. Then for it to melt. And then we’ll be able to get back out to the ranch for summer projects. But in between then and now is a big question mark. So it goes.
Until next time,
Kyle