Flow State

Today has been wonderful in a very basic kind of way.

I went for a run this morning before it got too hot. Then I spent some time reading before meeting a friend for lunch. We had delicious Italian beef, dipped with hot peppers. A true Chicago classic.

After lunch, I headed down to the Chicago River for an hour of kayaking. I only saw one other person on the water, probably because it was over 90 degrees. Fine by me. I had the river mostly to myself as I paddled along, looking at the birds, trees, turtles, and ducks.

It’s one of the only times I exercise without listening to music. I genuinely enjoy hearing the wind, the water against the kayak, the birds, and the background hum of the city. It’s peaceful in a way that’s hard to describe.

When I got home, I took a nice cool shower, drank an ice-cold Vitamin Water, and now I’m stretched out on the couch in the air conditioning getting ready to read some more.

Nothing crazy. Nothing life-changing. Just a really good day.

And that’s the point.

All of these little things deserve to be appreciated. I’m able to exercise and move my body. I can read interesting books. I got to have lunch and a good conversation with a friend. Tasty food. A kayak. Open spaces. Nature. A cold shower. Clean drinking water. Air conditioning during a heat wave.

When you start listing them out, it turns out an ordinary day is actually full of gifts. Today reminded me that life is mostly made up of small pleasures stacked one on top of another.

• A run before the sun gets too high.
• An Italian beef with hot peppers.
• An hour alone on the river.
• A cold drink.
• A good book.
• A comfortable couch.

That’s a pretty wonderful way to spend a day.

It’s great to be alive.

As usual, I was wrong again.

I was wrong when my wife wanted to redecorate our older son’s room. To be fair, some of my objections were sustained, so I’d like partial credit for helping make it a great remodel.

I was wrong about spending the money to redo our backyard.

I was wrong about finishing the basement.

However, I was NOT wrong about the Little Free Puzzle Library she wanted installed in our front yard.

You’ve seen Little Free Libraries. Take a book, leave a book. I love them. If I buy a physical copy of a book, as soon as I’m done reading it, I walk down the block and put it in one.

But a puzzle library?

Same concept, except with jigsaw puzzles.

Nevertheless, she wanted one for Christmas, so I bought it. We had it installed about a month ago.

Now, I am going to maintain my position that I am not wrong, but I may be the only person in the neighborhood who thinks that.

The thing has been a huge hit.

My wife loves looking out the window and watching adults and kids stop to browse through the puzzles. It took a week or two for word to spread, but now there are always a few puzzles in there and they rotate regularly.

The final blow came while we were setting up for our block party.

A woman stopped her car in the middle of the street, which irritated me because we were trying to clear the street for the event. But she jumped out and opened her trunk.

It was full of puzzles.

She was genuinely excited that there was a puzzle library in the neighborhood and wanted to contribute.

So yes, technically, I still maintain that a Little Free Puzzle Library is a ridiculous idea.

Unfortunately, everyone else appears to love it.

Including me. (it’s a nice neighborly thing)

That was a nice Father’s Day.

For whatever reason, the last few Father’s Days I’ve been traveling to Utah. I think it’s just been timing. School gets out, a week or two passes, and I’m on the road. Usually, I leave on Saturday and wind up missing Father’s Day entirely. This year was different. Because of a family trip later in the summer, I’m heading west at a different time. Going forward, I think I might stick around more often.

First off, I slept in. Not late. I’m old.

Still, it was nice to sleep in and not have to worry about training. No alarm. No long run. No bike ride hanging over my head.

After coffee and the crossword, my wife and I went to a yoga class at our gym. I possess neither strength nor flexibility, which is exactly why I’ve decided I need to add yoga and/or strength training to my routine. For me, though, it was also another hour I got to spend with my wife. I know. I’m a simp.

We did a chore or two on the way home and then had a nice family brunch with everyone. After that, my wife, the boys and I played Scattergories. I don’t know if there is any scientific evidence that Scattergories improves family relationships, but there should be.

Later, my wife and I went to a cooking class. The topic was smashburgers, but it was really about a lot more than that: grinding meat, making buns, pickles, aioli, and a wedge salad. It was a very nice afternoon and, once again, a few more hours spent with my wife.

When we got home, we watched a harmless rom-com before bed.

Honestly, hanging out with my wife and kids was all I wanted anyway. That’s usually the answer if you ask me what I want.

That said, I also got some great gifts.

A gift card to a new deli in town. Bags and bags of Jujy Fruits and Jelly Beans. My family knows me well.

But the standout was something my daughter made. She created a large framed collage of my life. Apparently, she raided “the box” in the basement, that mysterious storage container where important things go to be forgotten for twenty years.

The collage included my high school suspension letter, my college ID, military dog tags and awards, paperwork from my appointment as a prosecutor, letters from former students, and photographs spanning decades all the way to the present day.

It was spectacular.

Not that I didn’t also appreciate the future pastrami on rye.

What struck me most was seeing all those pieces of my life together in one place. Most of us don’t spend much time looking backward. We just move on to the next thing. The next job. The next project. The next worry. My daughter took all those scattered pieces and turned them into a story.

Maybe that’s one of the gifts children give their parents as they get older. They remind us that our lives look different from the outside than they do from the inside.

From the inside, I mostly remember mistakes, wrong turns, and things I should have done better. From the outside, she saw a life worth celebrating.

All in all, it was a great day.