028 | A Broken Odometer and 5 Tips for Balance

05/19/14 • -1 min

The Brave Monkeys Speak | Adventure and the Science of Stoked

“The essence of socialization is to make people dependent on social controls, to have them respond predictably to rewards and punishment. And the most effective form of socialization is achieved when people identify so thoroughly with social order that they no longer can imagine themselves breaking any of its rules.”
-Mihaly Csikszentmihalyl in is national bestseller, Flow: the psychology of optimal experience.
I know we’re all in a minority, but I think I speak for all of us who love to get out there on adventures when I say that I refuse to believe that we have to live life at the manic, breakneck pack the world around us seems to be pushing us towards.
I’m sorry I’m not sorry that I like to cook my own food, that I think my coffee tastes better when ground by hand immediately before brewing, and that I enjoy reading an honest-to-God physical book every once in a while - one with no screens or electricity involved.
I like my days to feel like they went by too quickly, but the memories to appear to be long and slow. Drawn out, as if somehow in that space, that moment, time has elongated itself and slowed down, each scene lingering in my mind before meandering on to the next, marinating and bringing out each vivid detail and aroma of the place. The kind of thing you just don’t get in an office, when the days seem excruciatingly slow, but the number of moments you remember at the end of the week are virtually non-existent.
I have been traveling a lot lately. When I’m not traveling, I just sit there in the city wanting to get away. I don’t dream at night, I just look out over the city skyline, listening to horns and looking at the headlights all bunched together like pearls on a string. And then I go: I find myself watching as the mountains pass by, and the semi’s roll on like stainless steel stallions to the horizon. I find myself wondering... what makes me always want to go, to get away from it all?
What makes me sing along to Zac Brown, “this road’s been putting miles on my heart, sweetheart,” and wonder why my heart’s odometer seems to roll in reverse, making me feel younger and less wise so long as the miles are ticking by. Why when I finally reach those places I’ve been going do I act less mature, jumping out of the car and dancing with my stuffed animals - I mean spirit animals - and running around trying to climb on everything in sight? And if the odometer doesn’t work right, does that necessarily mean the car is broken?
The answer, of course, to what always makes me want to go is that breakneck pace our society promotes. It seems that to be ‘successful’ - a socialized definition - you have to be breakneck. There’s a reason for it, too: our forefathers had one task - to make a positive change in the world by improving human welfare through economic gain. The faster they could move, they reasoned, the more economic growth could occur, which should lead to higher levels of human welfare and happiness. But that’s where it seems to me that their reasoning failed.
In rushing around at a breakneck pace, they didn’t enjoy life as much. There was always just one more business transaction to make or email to send before relaxing with the people you love, or finally achieving something you always dreamed of doing. The extra money, then, doesn’t continue to boost happiness levels forever. Just consult any happiness to wealth study out there - the curve for happiness levels off after our basic needs have been met.
This socially unacceptable condition, this disease of getting younger and having too much fun in the great outdoors, whether you call it dirtbagging or just plain ‘ole adventuring, seems to be a revolt against society’s breakneck pace. And my question is, are adventurers like us doing good for society? Can any good come of this revolt?
I think the answer is yes. I think why not? I think slowing down our lives, asking what really makes us tick, and getting outside our comfort zones can empower us. It can help us to live environmentally connected, to live connected to ourselves and the roots of our own power. I think we should be teaching our kids to slow down, to kick off their shoes and walk barefoot. To analyze risks and make a decision on when to take positive ones and when to not take them. To dance with stuffed representations of spirit animals often. I guess that last one is optional.
The challenge for me is living connected to myself and what drives me, and also trying to do the same thing our forefathers did - create a positive change in the world - while still making a living and avoiding sacrificing happiness OR contributing to the loss of our environmental resources.
In choosing a graduate school to attend, I faced a conundrum. I want to make a big impact on the world by studying things that will truly influence the future of society, yet, I also don’t want to feed into the pervasive culture of work until you drop. I think - no I ...

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027 | The Bicycle Diaries, An Interview with David Kroodsma

David Kroodsma, a Stanford-educated physicist and environmental scientist, decided to embark on a 21,000 mile bike tour in the name of raising awareness for the climate crisis. Can we say wow?
Tune in to Episode 027 to hear from him chat about the trip, climate change, and the highs, lows, joys, and challenges of long-distance bicycle touring.

Ready to get out of the comfort zone and thrive? Join us!

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029 | Resilience

Whether or not you believe in climate change, the world is undoubtedly changing rapidly, and disasters that come in and shake our world up (sometimes literally) seem to be happening more often. Earthquakes aside, though, in 2011 insurance companies were disappointed when after just 6 months, the year proved to be the costliest year on record - a statistic that their research tied unambiguously to climate change. I’ve seen it first hand this year in California, where a record drought has brought along with it fires, mudslides, and other disruptions.
Yet, despite these clear warning signs, we as a culture do not seem to be willing or even capable of changing our rampant, often needless consumer-based way of life. Even myself, someone who constantly asks my peers to examine the amount of waste they produce from purchasing packaged foods, well I still burn gas, buy packaged foods (occasionally), and waste water in the shower (when I have access to one). So does quote “sustainability” stand a chance? Probably not. Am I wasting my time and energy promoting sustainable living? Probably. I’m just being real here - I still think people should live sustainably because it makes us happier, but we’re probably not going to get everyone in the world on board and thus save the world by doing it.
Which brings me now to why I wanted to talk about environmentalism in the context of resilience. There is a parable amongst progressives in the environmental fields which describes two types of thinking with respect to environmental disaster. Here’s the parable.
A whole bunch of people are traveling on a train running along an ocean cliff (let’s say the North Pacific coast). The train was only designed to hold a couple hundred people, but because the company wants to make as much money as possible, there are now multiple thousands of people roaming the boxcars. Even if the train stopped allowing passengers to board, other people want their friends on the train and sneak them on without the engineer’s knowledge. The rails below the wheels are beginning to screech.
“Stop the train!” some of us start to say. “Don’t let anyone else on! Tell the engineer!” Some boxcars listen and put a moratorium on gaining passengers, but the train rolls on collecting more people and fares in other crowded boxcars nonetheless. More people rather than less are inviting friends on the train and trying to get monetary kickbacks as well.
As the situation becomes more dire, the rails are irrevocably damaged and minutes from collapsing. A select group of people who until now have remained fairly quiet about the number of passengers are clearly up to something now. They know changing the course of the train is a lost cause, and they have been rummaging through emergency storage containers, first aid kits, and luggage. They have created makeshift parachutes, insulating devices, and lights. As the rails split and the train careens toward the dark oceans below, they jump. They wasted no time trying to stop the inevitable, they simply adapted to the changing situation and innovated to survive.
The environmental movement, just like a lot of our mom’s telling us to be careful and avoid risks out there - or better yet don’t go out there - has adopted a risk-management system. Eliminate risks, and we have nothing to worry about. But what about when the risks are inevitable or unexpected?
The theory of resilience says that risk mitigation is important - very important - BUT that the ability to adapt and thrive when faced with unforeseen, changed circumstances is just as important. Whether we like it or not, risk is a constant in life. So is change. How we respond to them - now that’s what is variable and fortunately, malleable.
So what is resilience? Andrew Zolli gives a definition in his book on the subject which I quite like because it combines components of both natural and human-created systems: resilience is the capacity of a system, enterprise, or person to maintain its core purpose and integrity in the face of dramatically changed circumstances.
Zolli notes that resilience is not just incredible-hulkifying our systems. We could create a one-inch thick bike tire that no thorn could puncture, but that wouldn’t speak to how fast you could be back on the road after one of the spokes on the wheel broke.
Nor is resilience all about redundancy. It’s cool to carry extra tubes because it allows your ride to persist even in the face of a changed circumstance like a flat tire, but they are also heavy and limited. And, they only account for one problem: how many people also carry a spare chain on rides?
Finally, resilience might not even refer to the return of a system to its initial state. When I broke my rear derailleur in 100 mile trail race, I repositioned my cleverly adjustable dropouts and created a singlespeed rig. After that, I never looked back - I ride a singlespeed mountain bike to this day. “In their p...