Two weeks ago, I went to Costco to pick up a number of food items for a running race our family and friends were about to undertake. We needed massive quantities of nutritious and easily consumable items.
 
One product I planned to purchase was beef jerky. The store had four selections to choose from when it came to jerky in general. Two were eliminated quickly.
 
The third worked the best for us in terms of the quantity, but was packaged not only in an outer plastic, but each individual piece of jerky was also encased in plastic. I made an immediate decision and bought the other package.
 
Making a choice about a product based on packaging is not something I typically do. Yes, at times, I’ve weighed that as an option, and it influences me. In general, when I shop, I look to minimize any purchases of items packaged in plastic, and bring reusable canvas bags to put products in (not just at grocery stores, but also when shopping elsewhere).
 
It astounds and depresses me how much plastic is blowing around streets all over the world, congregating in waterways and trees. Given an option to do something to reduce plastic going into our collective wastestream worldwide, I choose not to add to the problem.
 
It also astounds and depresses me that more people don’t factor that consideration into their daily lives. It is not even remotely complicated to bring a reusable bag when you go into a store. You take it out of the back seat of your car, put it into your shopping cart, then use it to put any groceries or other items into it when you check out. You cannot use the excuse of, “It’s inconvenient,” or “It’s expensive.” It’s neither.
 
The only excuse you can use is, “I forgot.” That can happen. Until you make the reusable bag part of your regular routine, you’ll probably forget it multiple times. And, I can relate to being too lazy to go back to the car to get it. But, once you’ve worked it into your mental mindset, it’s unlikely you’ll forget to bring them (plural typically in terms of “bags” vs. “bag”), since you often need more than one reusable bag in the supermarket) into the store.
 
Choosing products in terms of reduced plastic packaging is a different story. You may have no options.
 
I remember reading an article a couple of years ago about a woman who NEVER bought a food item that had any packaging whatsoever. Quite frankly, I’m not sure how she did it. I could see if you solely existed on fresh fruits and vegetables, nuts and granola. You could bring all your own containers to fill up, and reuse them regularly. You have to assume she just didn’t buy yogurt, potato chips or frozen veggies.
 
When you have a choice to reduce or eliminate plastic packaging, exercise your choice. I did that at Costco. The decision was instantaneous. No hesitation. BAM, buy the jerky not encased in individual plastic bags.
 
What I found startling to myself was the rapidity of the decision. It was intuitive, cemented and the right thing to do to reduce plastic waste. And, there was an added bonus -- the lesser packaged jerky was cheaper. 

​Doesn’t it seem like for all the connectivity we have in the world and our communication devices, that somehow we don’t receive responsiveness?  Like your message goes into nothingness because you never receive a response. You’re left wondering if the recipient got the message, whether it was a voice mail, text, email or some other form of electronic communication.
 
It does seem to be the way of the world these days. You try to reach someone in multiple ways, and never hear back. Your communication could be to a friend, colleague, family member or a business. It doesn’t matter. Collectively, there’s a lack of “getting back to you” in a timely fashion.
 
A group of us are going to participate in a Ragnar run race this week. My wife has been communicating with the organizers on multiple fronts for several weeks. For the most part, they’ve gotten her all the information she needs.

Then, suddenly, as the runners are supposed to individually register and she was trying to get this information to our team, she couldn’t access that section of their web site. And she couldn’t raise anyone to help her. No phone number on the web site. While we did eventually get a response, it got quickly frustrating in the near term as she was working to finalize details so our runners could get their information properly registered for the race.
 
Though that is a mild example, there are many more most of us could come up with that inconvenience us as customers, partners, suppliers or any other relationships that bind us. And, many times it can be worse than just an inconvenience.

One of my pet peeves has always been companies that don’t include contact information on their web sites. Isn’t it pretty fundamental that if you run a business, you should make it simple for someone to contact you to ask a question or get a response? Perhaps your product doesn’t work properly. The customer needs to talk to an expert. Access should be easy.
 
Maybe you want to talk with a member of their communications department because you have an idea for a positive story, or you saw something they did in the local community that would make a good television story. Shouldn’t the contact information for that press contact be accessible in a click or a call? It should, but often isn’t.
 
You dig and you dig to come up with nothing. You check Facebook and LinkedIn. Same story. Twitter is worthless. You finally give up.
 
What’s left is frustrated customers and even do-gooders who want to help you out. Sure, companies kept the complainers off their backs by making it difficult to reach anybody with the company. But you know what? The complainers need to reach you, too. How else do you know when you screwed up?
 
The people (and companies) I appreciate the most are ones who acknowledge your communication in a timely fashion. It doesn’t have to be instantaneous. But, it does need to come to you in a reasonable timeframe given the circumstances.

​We all have missions in life. I’m a man on a mission to kill all the invasive buckthorn in our yard. That mission evolved the past few years, and now encompasses a corollary mission to diversify our woods as the changing climate attacks some of our trees in southeast Wisconsin.
 
It wasn’t until the past few weeks where I really added up all the bug, rot, mold, insect infestations and other issues affecting our trees, and tie it together into a grander picture. I have a close friend who lives in Marquette, MI, and he mentioned the band of earth where we live as a hot spot for where trees and other greenery, along with creatures as being affected more intimately by the ups and downs of heat and cold, flooding and drought.

You may think of those issues or not – the peaks and valleys of weather and how that changes the landscape in your area. Maybe you notice a few bushes dying in front of your house and are unsure why that’s happening.
 
We have some clear indicators of distress (mold killing many of the area’s oak trees and an infestation taking out river birches we’ve planted in the past five years). Slowly over the past few years, my wife and I (she took an early and big lead in terms of getting us moving in a direction to sustain our part of the earth and refurbish it in a way that puts in place plants, trees and shrubs that should thrive in this area as our 21st century unfolds) attacked some of the bad guys (buckthorn) and planted some good guys (maple and fir trees of different varieties).
 
Our plan and progress make me feel righteous. We plan ahead, considering things in a thoughtful way based on the knowledge of experts, and making decisions that will positively impact the fauna for decades to come.
 
We’re creating cover to improve our watershed. We’re adding diversity to the forest. We’re eliminating the invasive buckthorn, which chokes out so many other trees seeking water and sun.
 
I find myself motivated every morning to get outside and attack the buckthorn step by step. It’s nasty. It comes back when you least expect it. You have to stay on top of it, spraying its leaves and offshoots as it springs up. At first, the task was debilitating. But, then, when considering it as a daily meditative experience, my motivation rose exponentially.
 
I’d consider where to attack the next day. I’d contemplate the withering shoots, happy to see them collapsing, content in knowing progress (though slight) was taking place.
 
That became my motto for the year: “Work towards mild, incremental progress.” I’ve applied it elsewhere in my life and it helps keep things in perspective. It’s far too easy feeling you can do nothing. Take on something where you feel a sense of accomplishment and move forward from there.
 
My mission continues. I have less than two months left to demolish the buckthorn, and fully recognize that will not happen this year. I pick off a section here and a section there, content to crush the invader and free up space to diversify our land. The work in progress continues.

​Throughout life we must make transitions. Adapt to changing circumstances.

Sometimes it’s fun. Sometimes it’s depressing.

It might be about something you can no longer physically do. Or something you KNOW you shouldn’t do anymore, like lifting super heavy things or trying to sprint from a standing start after the age of 50.

If you live long enough, you have many examples of stuff you no longer do. Or, if you continue to take on a certain activity, you’re smart about it, and approach it in a slower fashion.
 
Recently, over a period of several months, while working on my desktop computer, I couldn’t understand why I was squinting and turning my head to read words. The screen seemed somehow blurry. Not bad, just a little off.
 
It didn’t occur to me quickly that perhaps my eyes were going through a new adjustment of older age. When I first needed reading glasses in my mid-40’s, I remember the nirvana moment when I figured it out.

At the time, Nuprin (with tennis great Jimmy Connors endorsing it with the phrase, “Nupe it with Nuprin”) was the ibuprofen drug of choice. We had a tiny bottle in our bedside table. Rarely using it, I remember pulling it out one night to look at how much to dose yourself.

I couldn’t read it. I moved the small cannister closer and found the print got blurrier. I squinted. That helped a bit. I shifted the container around. Finally, I moved it farther away from my face, holding it at arms’ length and was able to read it. WHOA.

Time for those reading glasses. I suddenly understood why my dad had those readers for the morning newspaper.
 
I started with 125’s and moved onto 150’s after 10 years or so. Fully understanding at some point there would likely be further deterioration and the need for greater magnification. But, the thought of having to get stronger lenses hadn’t occurred to me recently. You get used to your routine and everything’s okay.
 
I continued squinting at the desktop screen, moving my chair farther away. Then, it became apparent that reading the screen on my smart phone was getting more and more difficult. It dawned on my thick head that it was time for another change and to accommodate eyes that weren’t quite what they used to be.
 
Heading to Costco to pick up a 3-pack of 175-glasses, I felt slightly saddened at this new development. “Dammit, I have to put on glasses just to read the computer screen?”  I guess so.
 
Certainly, I could have continued down my merry path of squinting and shifting my chair, getting irritated, perhaps developing headaches. The smarter move was acknowledgement and moving on to the next step of life.

Sometimes we make small changes smoothly. Sometimes we fight them for years. Sometimes we stick to our old ways and make our lives more complicated and harder.
 
Print is clearer now. Work proceeds more quickly and easily. Reading anything online or on the phone is effortless with the glasses. Sometimes you wonder why you don’t change more quickly.