Month: May 2025

I had the opportunity to write a short vignette piece for SLUG.

Here is the original piece:

It’s not a quiet place. After all, Wu-Tang Clan is cranking over the speakers. It isn’t a place to sit down, either. There is one picnic table to sit on, or you are left relegated to the concrete slab that fortunately is basking in the sun this morning. Central 9^th Market is a place to fill your tank. The food is something your mom made—at least something you wish she could make. The old joke that “this was made with the special ingredient of ‘love.” But this isn’t love. It is something more precise. Not so formulaic that you can’t taste what is going on. But more precise than your favorite burger joint…it fits. The kitchen is out in the open. You see two people working as chef/cashier/butcher/fry cook—guardians of local eats. The focaccia bread is stacked at the end of the tall counter. The loaves, if that is what you call them, are at least 24+ inches across by 12 inches wide. You can try a sample covered in olive oil in the front, but there is no need. You know this is good.

I wait in line and watch as other customers quietly come and go. I walk up to the counter, and order the usual comfort meal—The Breakfast Sando with a fried egg and bacon slapped with a slice of cheddar cheese (the best to melt and complete any sandwich), and sando sauce smooshed between two slices of focaccia—with a cherry limeade by Taproot—local soda to wash it down. It’s only 10 o’clock in the morning, and I don’t care about the sugar intake. I’m not hungover, but I am not exactly sober, somewhere in between. 

A few minutes later, I hear “Order for Josh.” Already, my mouth is salivating like Pavlov’s dog, hearing my name called. I rush over to the counter, throw a couple of napkins in, and grab my brown bag with my sandwich neatly wrapped inside. No show and tell here. “If you know, you know.” I walk outside, and indeed, the picnic table is open. I sit down, open up my sandwich, and take a bite. The bread is warm and crisp. The egg yolk is now spreading across the sandwich. I can hear the crunch with every bite—never getting soggy. The sando sauce is perfect. And so is life. Not because everything is perfect. Not because I am perfect. Not because this sandwich is perfect. It’s because, at this moment, everything feels perfect. For a moment, I forget my restlessness. I am just there. In the right order, in its proper place. The sun is out, and now my belly is full. I try to stay longer, but I can’t. Everything was decided before I got here, and now that I am here, I am too rigid to change plans. 

I go back in, throw away the bag, and compliment the two working in the back, thanking them for a perfect way to start the day. Now that everything is finished, I too must leave. Life is indeed impermanent. Quietly, I step out. I turn the corner and walk 24 and half steps, and on the corner of my eye, I read a sign with a grim reaper on it that says, “Fuck around, find out.” It’s Saturday. Only Saturday. 

This is the key to empathy. When we know how someone was raised, what they were taught, and what they have been through, we can understand their struggle. Of course, we are left only to imagine. But it is possible when we learn, are curious, watch, and listen—we can imagine better. If we do not take the time to learn, perhaps the next best thing we can do is assume the best. Give the benefit of the doubt. And exercise patience.

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… until you climb inside his skin and walk around in it.” — Harper Lee, To Kill A Mockingbird

If it’s true, then it must be false. And if it is false, then it must be true. In my humble opinion, the key to the meaning of life is found in this simple sentence. Life is paradoxical by nature. There is no definitive ground to stand on. There is no single answer to finding the meaning of life, which means we are left to create our own interpretation of life’s complexities.

In the end, we are trapped in this loop of reason. The unique thing that helps humans stand apart is our ability to step out of the loop and look at it from afar. We can solve problems, cooperate, work in unison, and create meaning—something no other entity (as far as we know) can do. Which makes me think we are asking the wrong question. Perhaps the better question to explore is how one experiences life rather than why.

How do people navigate life’s decisions when everything is relative? We want to have something to anchor ourselves to. Perhaps it is clarity, certainty, or safety. But going in a direction is all about a point of view. Because there is no direction in space, which makes it difficult to navigate anywhere. Picking a course without a reference point is taking a guess. We have to pick something somewhere to know where it is we want to go. That choice is yours.

The art of gift giving is to give without any attachment. No reciprocity, no status, no thank you in return, no warm feeling of doing something worthwhile–nothing. Why? While it is difficult to truly give a gift and have no attachment, it is even more difficult for the receiver not to feel the social pressure to pass it along. The community will then grow closer together as gifts are passed along freely. The irony is that for thousands of years, tribes were structured around this concept and thrived. Which teaches us that this pursuit of more should cause us to pause. More isn’t the answer. Since appetites tend to grow, not shrink. The answer isn’t the opposite of less. The answer is to give. Give your time, talents, resources, attention, emotional labor…as a result bring the community together.

Some of my favorite tools:

For clothing and accessories, you cannot go wrong with Stance Socks; lots of miles of walking, they are my go-to for comfort and style. Since I switched to SAXX Underwear, I quit chaving in the heat. If you are not using Superfeet Insoles, you’ll be paying the price down the road. Thursday Leather Belts to keep your pants up. It’s a timeless look.

For technology, I use Claude by Anthropric for almost an hour daily to help solve problems and improve my writing. (And yes, I think for most people it is much better than ChatGPT.) GoodReads to keep track of books I want to read. Speaking of books, Libby is a library app that allows users to check out audiobooks. After years of listening to Spotify, I finally got on the train for Apple Music and Podcasts. Once you go Lossless, you can’t go back. I also enjoy having separate apps for music and podcasts. Apple Health is a game changer. I love how I can keep track of my steps, and every time I visit the doctor, it updates my results, creating trends. Stava, of course, “if it isn’t on Strava, it didn’t happen.” The FarOut app is an interesting idea (potentially game-changing) for trail users; it provides up-to-date information on trail sources, such as how fast the water is flowing for a resupply. The NPS and Recreation.gov app are essential for scheduling the next family vacation. For Wasatch locals, the Wasatch Backcountry Skiing app (even if you are hiking) is necessary. The new UAC app is usable now.

A reminder that when money is tight, it doesn’t necessarily mean no spending: eBay, Facebook Marketplace, and KSL are all great resources. One man’s trash is another’s treasure.

Finally, psyllium husk gets an uptake of fiber to stay regular and has some positive benefits on diabetes and cholesterol. Make sure to drink 10 oz of water with it.

The other side of any coin of choices is consequences. The two go hand in hand. Even when the option is to do nothing, there’s still an outcome.

We focus so much on imagining all the scenarios, dwelling on the worst, that we forget to flip the coin for action. Knowing when it is time to stop analyzing and when it’s time to act is a skill. Like any skill, we get better and better with experience.

Imagine someone flipping a coin over and over again. Choice. Consequences. Choice. Choice again. Consequences. More consequences. We have more choices than we realize. But there are always consequences. Consequences, however, shouldn’t change how we approach a coin flip.

Sometimes, the difference between right and wrong is in the eye of the beholder. It’s exercising the benefit of the doubt. When someone who is going hungry steals bread from the market, it is now justified behavior. (To some, Aladin became a hero; to others, he was a street rat.)

This complicates ethics—the balance between the rule of law, justice, peace, and quality of life. The fine print isn’t helpful when no one reads it. Second, third, and fourth chances don’t matter when someone lacks the knowledge or resources. Our justice is not the same as someone else’s. A person in a position of power, of advantage—can do a better job of understanding. Not be annoyed when someone is doing something we couldn’t imagine themselves doing.

Remember: you might have been taught to wait on the marshmallow, knowing a second one is coming. Someone without resources may find it very reasonable to take what’s before them.

While it may be tempting to be the bystander, police, judge, or jury—we are seduced to believe we can wear all hats at the same time—it is far more effective to wear just one. And if we have to choose one role, perhaps the best role we can be is the kind of citizen who spreads empathy. It is not near the glamor since there isn’t a title, but it is far more potent of a position to take.

Or “liability,” “risk,” “exclusion,” or even “mental health.” These words have often become buzzwords to halt discussion or discord. If perfect safety were the goal, we would never leave the house, drive a car, keep ourselves in bubble wrap, never raise our hand, and just stay low. And it gets worse: with or without bubble wrap, no one makes it out of here alive. (COVID pointed out that this isn’t how we can sustainably live.)

The question shouldn’t be, does this purpose risk, uncertainty, or danger? Because the answer by default is always Yes. We have now created a place to hide when this tension arises. A better question, or at least a more productive one, is to ask: What kind of risks are we willing to take? We have swung the pendulum so far that, like much of our culture, we have turned the decision-making over to someone else. We don’t want to be risk assessors or takers, so we can stay, no, play it safe, and we won’t get in trouble, we won’t get sued, if we exclude everyone, there can’t be a problem for someone to complain. By avoiding problems, we inherit new ones. The answer can’t always be, “What’s safer?” Instead, we can adopt this posture (and perhaps have the bravery) to ask, “What’s better?”

Recently, I talked to a 3rd grader who was disappointed they couldn’t even put a book club together in their school. The principal said there were problems in the past; someone could be excluded, so it wasn’t an option. Of course, you don’t need a school to start a book club, but we wonder why the culture feels off when we are too afraid that someone might be offended. Multiply this a million times across the culture, and we are faced with a mental health crisis in our hands. In the short run, staying home and putting kids in front of a screen feels safer, but that doesn’t mean it is actually safer in the long run. In the words of Hunter S. Thompson, “All the hallmarks of a dangerously innocent culture.”

Ultimately, no parks would ever be built if everyone had to agree beforehand what they should look like or how much they should cost. But we don’t want to live in a world without parks either.

Diet or zero-sugar sodas seem like an outstanding market response: our customers are getting fat or developing diabetes, so let’s create a soft drink that limits the harm.

Instagram is now unrolling Teen Accounts. “Sorry for causing so much harm, but here are some guardrails.”

As consumers, we have to start taking control back into our hands. The response shouldn’t be “Well, this isn’t good for my mental health, but here this other thing that is a little less harmful.” A warning sign around an electric fence should be enough of a cue to follow but often it isn’t enough. It’s still harmful. Until we stop clicking or paying attention, the market will find a way to make a dollar. And if we can’t make companies accountable (no easy feat), we must make ourselves accountable (also no easy feat either).

Let’s at least start calling it what it is: Diet soda is still soda. Instagram Teens is still social media. An e-cigarette is still a cigarette. “Eco-friendly” doesn’t mean it is good for the environment.

It is worth pointing out that there is this false sense of comfort in harm reduction.