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In this depressing and disturbing time in which we live, a happiness injection is required. Our mom had a great phrase she employed about “always having something to look forward to.” She used that to stay active and engaged.
 
Looking forward to an event or activity is about finding a form of pure joy. Something that motivates you, gets your mind firing down neural pathways that excite and energize you – a happiness injection, if you will.
 
Something we have heavily lost these past three pandemic months is personal connections. Many of us are still working. Others have lost their jobs or gone remote. Regardless of your work situation, those friendships and family relationships where you laugh, tell stories, joke around, listen to the people you care most deeply about has fallen away. We aren’t -- for the most part anyway -- seeing friends face-to-face to catch up on the good times.

We can talk on the phone, text, email, Snapchat or Tik Tok away, but it’s not the same. Full human interaction requires seeing body language, a give and take, visual cues, listening to tone of voice and active listening. All those are best done in-person.
 
This need came up recently as an issue when our younger daughter got off a Zoom call with a group of friends. She came in afterwards and said, “I can’t believe how much I miss my close friends.” I get it.
 
She’s working locally and living with us while she waits for her first full-time job to start, so she has left college, is isolated from those she’s grown closest to, and doesn’t have the same outlets for fun she had a little over a month ago. When she got on that Zoom call, the pure pleasure of talking with those you know well and have great friendship relationships with where you can be totally YOU became overwhelming apparent to her. “I miss them so much,” she said.
 
We all miss those people in our lives. More so right now. Probably because we need them in our lives now more than ever.
 
I’ve been fortunate to have two happiness injections the past two weekends, one when our son came home for Father’s Day and we were able to play some golf, hang out and just catch up on life. Another was a wonderful friend for almost 40 years, Carl.  He will hate me for writing this because he is a private person, but it must be said.
 
He’s a happiness injection in my life. He is a voice of sanity in a world gone nuts. He makes me laugh. He is one of the best storytellers on the planet. He grabs your full attention, easily laughs at himself and some of the goofy things he’s done over the years. How can you not be happy when you know you’re going to be able to see each other and catch up on your respective lives.
 
Our meetings never disappoint. They aren’t what I project beforehand either since expectations that our imagination envisions never connect with reality. The world is always different than what we fantasize.

But I do receive an injection of friendship happiness. Repeatedly over the years. And I can’t thank him enough for all those times, the total blast to explore our so-very-different worlds yet still connect, share, console and look FORWARD to the future because there’s still wilderness to explore.

Here’s to you, Carl. Keep injecting the happiness.

​There are multiple pressing causes facing the world. We can’t escape the current reality Covid-19 imposes on us individually and collectively throughout the world. At some point we will adjust. Life will change. Dangers will exist. We’ll find new things to worry about.
 
Leaving aside the virus for the moment, three months ago there were other issues gathering our attention, causing angst, looking for solutions. Maybe it’s time to step back and examine a few. Consider where else we should be placing our attention and resources. Perhaps that will help us put the virus in better perspective. Perhaps not. We all have to make those decisions for ourselves in terms of how we perceive things.
 
Take the Opioid crisis. Has it gone away the last three months? Certainly not. It could be worse for all I know. Because of the virus, more people, from what I’ve read, are turning to alcohol, food and drugs to take their minds off our current environment. So, the Opioid crisis could be even worse. We should continue to focus on these types of mental health issues.
 
Race relations are back on the front burner. We all need to rise up, open ourselves to each other, ask, listen, challenge, support and learn.
 
How about plastic pollution? Has it been evaporating the past three months? Hardly. Plastic in smaller and smaller particles continues to insinuate itself all over the planet into every possible environment. We’re finding these microparticles everywhere. Progress occurs with newer technologies and where communities are overwhelmed with plastic trash, like seaside towns. But it’s not enough, and organizations like 4ocean and others are critical in coming up with long-term and viable solutions that reduce the source and cleanup the plastic soup before we’re all buried by a big mound of soft drink bottles and supermarket bags.
 
Then there’s the affordability of medicine. We all face these astronomical costs, particularly in the U.S. How do we make medical coverage more affordable, transparent and simple to understand? If you have some ideas, send them along. We’re all looking for these answers. Caps on malpractice awards certainly would help, but I like this amusing step a friend of mine suggests:
 
“I’d do a Three Stooges routine on the insurance industry, hospitals and medical professionals and knock their heads together with the coconut bonking sound until they figured out a way for everyone to make a reasonable profit and not gouge the patient.” Hmmmmm…..
 
We could raise other issues, from the costs of college education to  global climate change (the biggest issue in the long term facing all of us) to education and income disparities that threaten civil discourse and a common shared future that we all can stand behind.
 
Humans are designed to problem-solve. We’re endowed with multiple abilities to see something, analyze a situation and figure out how to improve on it. We need to apply those talents intensely on multiple fronts.
 
We’re doing that now. Progress is moving astoundingly quickly on many fronts with the virus. It’s easier to get mired down in the negative statistics than it is to see human behavioral change that has occurred, along with the intense drive for a vaccine or techniques for prevention of transmission.
 
As the cliché goes, it often takes a crisis to get us moving. The virus pushes us. The death of George Floyd pushes us. We must continue pushing ourselves.

​No, this column is not about taking a break by the coffee cooler. It’s not about killing time talking to your buddies or getting a caffeine jolt to pump up your day. It’s about the return of some semblance of life the way it was 11 weeks ago, and the changes that have occurred and how we adjusted. And perhaps will continue to adjust in the weeks and months ahead. The new normal, as the cliché goes.
 
Our church, which follows directions for the Southeast Diocese of Wisconsin, had been deferring to the larger body in terms of their weekly broadcast available during the pandemic in lieu of meeting face-to-face. This past week, our specific parish rejoined the movement forward by broadcasting live via Facebook. Later, we Zoomed coffee hour.

So, we joined the ranks of the online meeting community for connecting, staying in touch, worshiping, chatting, catching up with others, seeing faces we hadn’t seen in a while. All of which is good. Except it is different from being “with” each other, and your reactions are not the same.
 
I was eager to watch and hear the service. And also eager to see who would join the coffee hour.
 
The service went off decently. The volume wasn’t quite high enough even with your speakers turned to the max. And there were a few connectivity glitches where the image stalled, waiting for the electronic highway to deliver the data to return images and motion to those of us watching.
 
Both of those were somewhat distracting and a reality we face in the oncoming months as more companies and individuals choose to use any of the array of visual online tools available to hold meetings. An advantage is you can spread your message deeper and wider to others. A disadvantage is that distractions can turn off the attendees.
 
The Zoom coffee hour came afterwards and proved to be satisfying in a different way than our normal post-service conviviality. Typically, you grab your food and drinks, find a table and sit with a few other individuals to catch up on the week. You chat a bit. Ask a few questions, hear about what’s going good or bad from someone, share some thoughts or insights.
 
The difference online was that you saw everyone, and anyone could weigh in at any time to the full group. That made the morning more engaging and focused to me. You had the person directly in front of you on the screen to focus right there on what they had to say. You do have to wait for the delay if you want to speak or add something to the conversation, but that’s small drawback and forces others to listen fully to what you’re saying, so that’s ultimately an advantage. Everyone was polite. Everyone had something to say at some point or other.
 
It’s just one small piece of what we face the with “new normal.” Of all the predictions hovering around, that is one you can bank on: Things will be different.

We will adjust. We’re an adaptable species. We’ll learn new things (like operating technology), while old habits may fade away. There will be good, bad and indifferent consequences, depending on your perspective. I hope and pray that our human connections stay intact and thrive.

​I admire trees. Years ago, I thought of creating an Instagram account that captured photos of awesome trees, giving their location so others could come and marvel at their majestic-ness. That never happened.

But it hasn’t stopped my love affair of trees from growing. Looking back, I must have developed this passion as a kid, climbing trees in my childhood, looking down at the world from higher up, seeing things in a new light. What a wonderful feeling. Experiencing views that make you look at things differently. It was like climbing on the roof of a house, only better because you had to shimmy up, get bark all over your dungarees and clamber out on a sturdy limb to secure yourself for a safe vista. Your stomach clenched as your spirit soared.
 
That Instagram account never happened. I envisioned it similar to that one, “Humans of New York,” with random people photos, including interviews with them. In my fantasy, I’d let the trees speak for themselves because they should have a voice.
 
Trees are sturdy, powerful, mesmerizing, artistic, and resilient. It astounds me how they muddle through storms. Think of the years and years of high winds and rains pounding their limbs, seeking to rip their roots from the ground or topple their trunks, snapping branches and sending wood splintering.
 
Yes, that happens. But most trees survive even the bad storms. Sure, tornadoes rip up everything. Super heavy snow or thick ice storms fell some of the oldest and wisest trees, but most continue to survive. Come each spring, they choose to sprout again, thriving, reaching their leaves out to the world. It’s incredible.
 
Think how they choose to propagate their species. Throw buds to the wind. Drop seeds to the ground. Hope squirrels don’t eat your young. Wait for rain. Assume some of your progeny will sprout under your wings.
 
Some make it. Slowly a baby oak buds under its parents’ awning, hoping not to be eaten by a deer, mowed down by a human, or destroyed by insects or a blight.
 
My wife has been planting multiple new trees in our yard the past four years. I salute her repeatedly on this. She’s diversifying the world sapling by sapling, watering each faithfully, ensuring they have space, light and water. Thirty years from now, this space of earth we currently inhabit will have fresh growth, fresh forest, diversity and health.
 
I wish that for the world. I wish more trees of different species were planted regularly by people all over this planet, adding oxygen, preventing pest infestations and enhancing the health of each type of tree, along with our planet overall.

That fantasy Instagram account envisioned the beauty of trees. The colossal fir tree smelling like Christmas, a carpet of needles sending delicious scents your way. The single birch tree, its bark peeling, thin enough for you to write a letter on it. Cottonwoods reaching singularly for the sky, sending their puffy white balls across the plains.
 
Tree huggers can be mocked. But the world would be a lesser place without diverse forests. They provide raw beauty, support for each other, oxygen for us humans, cover for animals, food for many, and the list goes on. Put your arms around one tomorrow and feel their power and awesomeness.