Roots and wings. That oft-used aphorism professes what most parents hope to grow in their children. And the highest and widest wing-spreading journey, for most, happens when leaving for college. In my case, the boy flew off to Princeton—a mere 1200 miles away, where he will, “play football, play baseball, and study my brains out!” Bye-bye roots, hello wings. Here for 6,000 todays, gone for…forever?

• College gets controversial

These days, college gets kicked around more than a Division 1 soccer ball. The mountains of student debt—a potential macro-econ bubble-crisis. The value debate. The lack of lucrative jobs for grads. The sports/pay debate, the sex (abuse), the (binge) drinking, the elitism, the multi-billion-dollar endowments (for the top spots), the specious school scandals, the online education (r)evolution, yadda yadda yadda. Rah! Rah! Rah!

• The gift of time

All those deserve examination, of course. But I think they are mostly distractors of what college (and by that I mean four years of focused study that results in a credible degree) is all about: The Ultimate BreakAway. Never again will a student of life receive ~1400 days to explore, evolve, and learn—usually with only a foggy (if smug) notion of where he is going, or where he’ll end up.

What can happen? Here are just some of the possibilities…

Leave home.

Leave friends.

Start over.

Listen more.

Speak up.

Learn fast, or…

Be humbled.

Fail shamefully.

Celebrate victoriously.

Juggle 555 expectations.

Fail again.

Try again.

Defy expectations.

Find trouble.

Change directions.

Change your mind.

Change the world?

Gain wisdom.

Gain weight.

Lose interest.

Fall in lust.

Fall in love.

Fall out of love.

Rekindle talents.

Discover a calling.

Change directions again.

Push your luck.

Pull all-nighters.

Study abroad.

Immerse yourself.

Perfect a language.

Take road trips.

Visit friend’s stomping grounds.

Get internships nearby.

Get internships faraway.

Ruminate, deliberate, contemplate.

• Travel, travel, travel…

They are lucky, these new wanderers, and I hope they know it. (The very thought of a self-directed four-year journey makes me green-jello jealous.) You can’t put a price tag on their new experiences. And yet, parents pray they appreciate the cost—which can quickly soar into hundreds of thousands—and make every dollar and moment count.

Back home, this dad pledges to glide along on a parallel breeze while letting go, yet also embracing our successful, if often bumbling, family experiment that went so well. For me, too, the new life starts here.

Still, as I garden daily and watch my friends the loons and wrens wing it through their annual cycle, I notice they stay longer and louder this warm year—chattering, scolding, laughing, raising their babies. Then one day, without warning, they fly away. The yard gets quiet. And they seem to take 18-year’s worth of sandboxes, whiffle balls, and snow angels with them.

I wonder where they are now, and long for their return. I know they may not come home, or any of us could get eaten by the wolves. All the more reason to rejoice in what was, and pray with passion for what will be.

Savor your Ultimate BreakAway, son.

And don’t forget to…text?

Can you change your life by taking 10 minutes a day to “slow down and soak life?”

In June, a group of wired young women posed that challenge to their online communities—and got 200 participants in 185 locations to take the plunge. They report that “97% met their pre-challenge intentions.” Many were rich in “aha moments.”

• The endless roots of SM

Our kindred friends at thebreakchanger.com offer the ever-relevant reminder that even ten minutes a day can change your perspective, mood, and (maybe) life. From “daydreaming on purpose to lying on the ground for 10 minutes to dancing in the kitchen,” turning off the relentless life loop can feel as freeing as flying.

So imagine the magic that happens from three (or 12) months away from the I’m-so-busy routine. The Career Break community and the BreakAway Fan Club preach that potential, yet live at least 97% of our lives as heathens—obsessed by our own to-do lists and called to various screens that look nothing like long-term travel.

The four BreakChanger gurus appear to lead rigorous online lives. Indeed, the 10-for-10 premise and audience roots itself in social media—a great way to find participants while also marketing one’s personal brand and, in these cases, professional services.

• Good for them!

So this idea is basically a win-win-win; it’s good for the Breakers, good for business, and good for the world. I love the simplicity of the challenge: Can YOU take a 10-minute break for 10 days? If so, how does it change you? There’s no word on whether fall holds a new opportunity to chill out for, say, 15 minutes for 15 days.

• Is the 10-minute meditation next?

While some folks worldwide meditate as a way of life, others dabble in it, rather like workouts and diets. And this dabble-practitioner (of all the aforementioned, I suppose) has learned one overarching fact about meditating: It’s hard work.

Achieving the discipline for the daily “sit” can become unattainable, annoying. Taking months-long classes can seem to drag on for years. The group quiet time can make one’s brain howl while the body craves a recliner. Outdoor walking meditation includes risks like boredom, insensitive panhandlers, and disdain for one’s climate. As for the full-day retreats: Those can compare to interminable experiences in hospitals (yourself or a loved one) and yet, at times, the blissy euphoria more often obtained from catching a nice buzz. Both may happen, over and over, during the same day-long retreat.

Yet those days are unforgettable, and certainly mind-opening. Even though nothing happened. Perhaps that’s the point.

So if our BreakChanger friends can approximate those lessons and find refreshment in 600 seconds a day, more power to them. I may be older, from Mars (not Venus), and less committed to online living. But having mostly fallen off my meditation wagon (as I do every summer, when I seem to “need” it less), that 10 for 10 program sounds pretty good right about now.

I bet it will work. In fact, I guarantee it.

Well, hi there!

Last time we gathered, the topic du jour (which became flavor of the month) was the notion of over-booking summer activities for kids. I defended it, and now that summer is two-thirds over, I still would. With any luck, summer has a riddim of its own that settles into a feel-good groove regardless of commitments. Or even crises.

• While you’re busy making other plans…

I also know that in summer—or anytime—the fates can throw curveballs that hit you in the face with seams that imprint SURVIVAL MODE NOW. This happened last Friday, when my son had a sudden medical emergency that resulted in major surgery 12 hours after the onslaught. (He’s recovering well now.)

One leaves such a crisis feeling dizzied, humbled, and grateful. After all, he was off the grid in the Boundary Waters just last month; had this happened then and there, he’d have never made it home. And in a strange way, the many emergencies I’ve endured thus far in my life (horrible and life-changing) have schooled me in how the system works and trained me for this one.

Summer and the future look different, downright hazy, since his surgery. But we’re home, and the focus simplifies to nourishment, resting, and healing. His cliff–jumping, wake-boarding, and hardcore workouts prepping for the Princeton football team will have to wait. Thus the patient learns patience—and that we’re never really in charge.

And the dad learns that parenting doesn’t end at 18 or the final days before college. Sometimes the job only gets harder.

• Healing happens…

“Healing” is a billion-dollar word these days, with enough experts and gurus and research to make a Ph.D. in the topic implausible. So, instead, we each go through our own perpetual education. The older you get and the more scars you earn, the more healing becomes a state of mind. A challenge. A process that feels more like Zen than physical therapy.

• When unplugging takes on its own power

Unplugging—also a state of mind—comes naturally to me (FBOW). This summer, that has meant keeping work in check. Resisting blog writing. Finding the garden, kayak, and hanging with friends more fun than Facebook. And sometimes twitching in alarm when I’m practicing R&R and the cell phone rings or dings with texts.

Anyway, that cell phone doesn’t work like it used to. I mean, so many people are too overwhelmed to answer or reply—so your query sits like a mystery until…whenever. Too, the dang things often run out of power or just won’t function. That was true during the medical emergency when my wife was at a family gathering way up Lake Superior and I needed to inform her. Neither AT&T nor Verizon nor the magical Northern Lights could create a connection.

And we think these little things are the best and coolest thing since drive-in movies? I’ll take the drive-in, with popcorn and Jr. Mints, please. I’ll keep my land line too; one would have been priceless in this situation.

I wish more people chose to unplug, though I know it’s become difficult to ignore the attraction (addiction?) of a bestie sending you an emoji or an “LOL.” Unplugging is a discipline worth the…effort. And I swear it can lead to a more balanced, peaceful place.

• Balance and peace

Funny. These things may be within reach even when possibly life-threatening emergencies bring breathless fear, cancel my best-week-of-the-year vacation, and leave a guy feeling about as in-control as the loon parents and their baby who float and fish on my lake every day.

They dodge countless boats nonstop; the line between life and death for them is more thin and invisible than fishing monofilament. They’ll soon fly far away into only more perils and threats, including their dangerously BP-polluted winter home in the gulf of Mexico.

They will survive, I hope. We’ll all survive, I hope. But there are no guarantees. And I just watched my son spontaneously come closer to blowing out the candles than he ever has.

So we’ll enjoy this unexpected gift of time together. We’ll watch and listen to the Twins, sip beverages on the patio, and catch up on our cribbage.

And I’ll go back to unplugging, reflecting, and soaking in this gorgeous summer—while I can, wherever I may be. In spite of—or maybe thanks to—omnipresent uncertainty, I know that all we have is today.

And so far, today is just about perfect.

In a recent NYT column / book review about kids and summer, Julie Lythcott-Haims waxes poetic about lazy, old-school summers, while criticizing current trends to push America’s “luckiest” teenagers toward internships, college-prep classes, sports and music camps, or “maybe all of the above.” She disapproves, and asserts that summer is the perfect time for teens to “kick around doing nothing.”

I couldn’t agree more. If only modern life were so simple. But it’s not.

• Schools stop educating

Here in MN, where the education is pretty good, school happens at most 180 days a year. That leaves more than 50% of your days “free.” Summer brings three-plus months of…closed doors. The schools do what they can but usually fall short in music, arts, exercise, nature, and many more categories critical to maximize one’s potential.

Meanwhile, my last count found that 18 school days include standardized testing. That’s 10% of your school year—not including the dozens of days spent prepping.

Nationwide, education quality varies dramatically—from rigorous East Coast prep schools to intensely diverse city schools where priorities become safety, feeding under-nourished students, and providing classes (and translators) in myriad languages. Most of us have kids somewhere in the middle.

Engaged (“the luckiest”?) parents see the obvious voids and fill them with extracurricular activities. It’s a problem that you spin into an opportunity.

So summer becomes a time to upsize the education that public schools provide. Parents hope to find some camps and experiences—at our own (and often substantial) cost—to fill in what our schools simply don’t do.

Heck yeah, we’d all (parents too!) rather spend three months, “daydreaming in the hammock, (and) lying in the grass staring up at the clouds.” (We do still find time for that, by the way.) But frankly, we also have other things to do.

• East Coast Elitism?

Ms. Lythcott-Haims writes from an East Coast (and possibly elite) point of view. Yep, it sounds pretty sucky—turning teenagers into over-stressed competitors fighting for future suit-and-tie jobs on Wall Street or at Merck. It’s no wonder we Midwesterners can feel inferior and play some catch-up.

But for about 90% of the American population, summer-as-success school is not reality. The St. Paul school district now sends out a food truck (three rounds a day) just to feed students in the summer—while many of their schools go year-round just to provide food and shelter (and continued attempts to close the achievement gap).

Nationwide, millions of kids can’t play little league, join a soccer team, or escape to language camp because their parents lack the funds, the transportation, or the wherewithal to make it happen. Many can’t even get to a library.

• Kids, when left to their own devices…

Ms. Lythcott-Haims hopes for summers when her children live free-range and,
“come home breathless and wide-eyed with adventure.” Sweet! That’s what we all long for—adults too! But FBOW, unless you take away their many screen toys, teens’ visions these days may be more wide-eyed about digital devices—the spitfire, terse communication of texts, the countless, come-hither SM “communities,” and an endless and relentless stream of content that draws them in like no distant pond can.

If it weren’t for camps, teams, and—yes—schedules, most teens (and tweens) I know would spend more time this summer online than on a swing, field, or beach. Shit yes, I’ll fight against that addictive beast.

• You can do it all, just not all at once

This website preaches the gospel of balance—the goal of working hard and PLAYING hard. (Okay, playing lazy and easy too!) So in my community, we rejoice when August finally arrives, most camps and sports have stopped, and we run into neighbors on the lake or at the park with wide smiles on all faces and shouts of, “Where have you been?”

We gather old gear and pack up the car and head “Up North,” where family reunions, fishing, bonfires, and smores take on powerful—almost mystical—relevance. With any luck, our tweens and teens get to those places and feel the sweet relief of “getting away.” They bond with faraway cousins. Play Cribbage with grandparents. Go hiking, biking, fishing, and chase frogs and balls and each other.

We do this all year, actually—not just in August. Such things can happen on weekends, holiday breaks, and many of those 185 days a year when the school is closed. But yes, the balancing act gets harder every year. Because: we also want a competitive, well-rounded education. And good test scores. And ultimately, meaningful careers that pay the bills and allow freedom from financial worry plus enough slush fund for a BreakAway now and again.

• It’s about us, not “Admission Deans”

Here in the heartland, most of us aren’t sure what an Admission Dean is. But we do strive for smarts and success and fruitful futures. Summer extracurriculars are a necessary part of that. So is R&R.

There are better parents out there, and I may be a demanding SOB. (Just ask my kids.) But as my Grandma used to say,

“I’m not much good at doing nothing.”

So sometimes that, too—and preferably unplugged and outside—becomes a skill we have to teach, as Ms. Lythcott-Haims asserts. Forgive us if we want it all (even if not all at once).

Maybe there’s a Big Idea here—an opportunity to merge the two extremes at a rigorous, easy-going residential camp with sunrise salutations, healthful food, fresh air, singing and drumming, laughing and shouting, silence and sitting, and teachings from wise masters about all this complicated stuff.

Zen Boot Camp, anyone? When that opportunity arises, I know my kids will be there.

Whether they like it or not.

Memorial Day, 2015. The holiday has changed since my youth—when everyone went somewhere, usually to simple cabins and camping to catch real fish before overfishing happened. Nowadays, stores stay open and the city keeps humming. But many still head for the woods, and there’s a decidedly relaxed pace in the streets.

Vacations continue to lose the time battle to work pressures, kids’ activities, and screen living. Those who take time to vacation often go for shorter, closer, more water-parky variations. Most adults remain plugged in and communicate with colleagues (and beyond) throughout the day. The kids are more likely to snapchat their swimsuit selfie than catch and clean a walleye.

Still, thank God for the six holidays that most people still agree on. Sure, they may have associations with religions and military—and not everyone agrees with those. But the country suddenly, and gladly, slows way down and gathers as families and friends. The sigh of R&R (rest & relief) is as palpapable as the BBQ smoke in the air. We really ought to do this more often.

Meantime, we have New Year’s Day, Memorial Day, the fourth of July, Labor Day, Thanksgiving, and Christmas to be thankful for. Nobody’s messing with those. And we’re all the better for it. So go get on the water. Go root, root, root for the home team. Sing the national anthem. And be grateful not only for our great country, but for a few days off. *God Bless America!

As the CFO of my household of four, I was forced into action recently when a pile of credit card statements finally got my attention, and were packed with pages of purchases for … who knows?

Dozens of Amazons (a company that doesn’t bother to specify the items). Various online purveyors of whatnots. Sports sites and cosmetic clubs and, worst of all, a few scams—that can take hours (months?) to unwind.

Shopping has become easier than ever: Click! And The Thing is on its way. No boring browsing, no pawing or fondling. Heck, trying something on and inspecting it for quality have become passé; just peruse a few reviews, and return The Thing (with free shipping!) if it fails to fit.

Is it any wonder that 40% of Americans state they have too much stuff? Is anyone surprised that the stuff storage industry is booming (with 76% of the stuff stuck away because it’s seasonal, sentimental or simply never used). Should we rejoice that our economy is enjoying a new burst (bubble?) of consumerism thanks to internet commerce? Fine. But the buck stops here.

• This calls for executive orders

Though I rarely succumb to such extremes—because I know they may not work in the long run—I immediately wrote up and sent out a new procedure for making purchases. Now, there’s a form to fill out: Date, what, amount, from where, why. No pushing “buy” until a parent has initialed approval. And the discussion may include who’s paying. (Extravagant offspring can turn frugal fast when that $55 widget means gutting the piggy bank.)

The goals include stopping the Amazon flood, increasing our family’s mindfulness of greed, clutter, and the environment (Amazon’s packaging—ugh!), and making do with the backpack we have rather than assume the fancier new one will hold more happiness. Above all, we’ll all have one page of purchases to ponder: Transparency!

These life lessons start at home, and are more timely than ever with things like braces and college costs right around the corner. The cost of living keeps rising; does quality of life keep up?

Wish us luck on our new procurement policy; good thing I know better than to expect little more than a temporary rethink/reduce movement. Still, it’s helping. The orders seem to have slowed. We now have more conversations about stuff—and sometimes find a way to say no, make do, or seek a more creative (and less costly) solution.

• A student essay on simplicity inspires                    

On the same day I was issuing restrictive dictums, I was poring over past student work to find a sample for the writing course I’m currently teaching. The best one—that serendipitously fit that day’s theme—was titled, “The Art of Being Creatively Simplistic: A Minimalistic Manifesto.” She wrote a touching, compelling piece that offers a heartfelt alternative to knee-jerk materialism.

In case you, too, could use some fresh guidance for your SMI (Stuff Management Issues), here are her…

• 11 ideas for enlightened material restraint

1. Don’t get in debt
2. Work to get paid and meet your needs, not advance a career
3. Live in a small space
4. Get rid of excess material objects
5. Reduce expenses
6. Avoid the materialism of modern technology
7. Exercise, stay physically capable
8. Eat basic, wholesome foods
9. Improve practical skills
10. Serve your community
11. Learn the value of true pleasures — nature, friends, art

Pretty simple stuff, right?

The sabbatical inbox fills up so swiftly I sometimes long for the days of snail mail. Yet clearly people keep finding their way to the take-your-time movement. Fast Company has been particularly prolific with reports. Yet the drum beat also comes from the local paper, a new friend in Switzerland, and beyond.

• Is that a “thing?” Then the thrill is gone…

In this case, “thing” is just that—an object (purchase), not a trend, though the two often intersect. Recent research from Cornell confirms that experiences trump stuff over time, every time. “New things are exciting to us for a while, but then we adapt to them,” reports Professor Thomas Gilovich. Conversely, “Our experiences are a higher part of ourselves than our material goods.” Advice: Sell the big car; take a big break.

• New moms getting re-entry programs

Women are increasingly winning over the working world, the college world, and the ambition surveys. Yet they are also more likely to need career breaks—usually to have children and tend to family matters. Kudos to companies offering “Act 2,” “OnRamp,” and “Returnship” programs with clever names and win-win motives. A handful of books and thought leaders are also leading the charge—and not always just for family care. As Brigid Shulte, author of Overwhelmed, reflects, “The bottom line is that more and more people don’t want to work all the time.”

• MN study shows big support for sick and family leave

A recent MN Department of Health study is providing a push for legislation mandating employee PTO for family matters. It’s no fun to go to work while ill due to fear of losing your job. But the state Health Commissioner is quick to point out the public-health risks—and has data to prove that illnesses spread quickly when sick staffers infect the workplace. Letting people stay home may ultimately improve attendance rates!

• Take 6 months off?  Yes you can.

And finally, high 5s to Tomer Lanis, who hit my email box with a nice note and news of his new book, You Can Take Six Months Off. In an eerily similar scenario to my own family’s, he escaped his mortgage, schools, and pets and took wife and two kids sailing through the Caribbean. That picture of the Grenadines? I was right there, and took the exact same shot. And then we loaded onto a small “taxi” (fishing boat) for one of the strangest travel days ever that eventually landed us on our next island, even though various customs officers weren’t so sure about the idea.

Tomer’s family took six months; we took four; he wins. (We both win!) Tom HQs in Switzerland, and warns us on his website, “Caution: Living your dreams is addictive and contagious.” Now THAT is the kind of contagion (and family leave!) we can live with! My copy of the book is on its way, so I’ll report more soon.

Best of luck to Tomer Lanis and his book—and to all of us when we need sick leave, family leave, or (better yet), six months off.

Oh my.  A month has gone by. I last wrote about taking vacations—including from devices—and must have been truly inspired by my own ideas! But thus the blogging sabbatical ends. And speaking of inspiration…

• Local lottery winners say, “meh”

A married couple not far from here just won nearly $12 million, and seem appropriately pleased but surprisingly unfazed by their luck. The Star Tribune reports these heart-warming quotes…

“I have a fabulous job, and I like to work. I actually have to work tonight,” says Wife, of her waiting-tables job at the charming Lake Elmo Inn.

“I don’t think it’s going to change our lives that much,” ponders Husband.

“We really hope it doesn’t change the people around us,” suggests Wife.

There you have it: Real winners! Just folks that are suddenly rich, yet obviously have been living rich, content lives all along. That’s what can happen when you do something approximating our 11 Commandments of Fiscal Fitness—which are as much about living well and sanely as they are about money management.

• Is winning the lottery really “winning?”

Follow-up stories on lottery winners are rarely pretty. Too many “winners” quit their work, spend like crazy, and eventually end up jobless, possibly penniless, and even friendless.

Not long ago, for ex, media reported on a Minnesota young woman who had won millions and, some years later, mostly drove around her small town solo in her Hummer—while locals rolled their eyes and rumored that she’d spent it all, lost her career, and alienated her community.

Sometimes, all we need is right in front of us. As for all we want? Sometimes that stuff is just stuff, and we may be better off without it.

Best wishes to this model couple a few miles north of here. If I ever recognize them in a nearby pub, I’d like to buy them a drink and make a toast to their smarts.

A stranger buzz-crafting at the beach bar commented to me today, “There’s much better beer at the lobby bar—if you’re tired of this insipid piss!” “So I’ve heard,” I nodded, “That’s on my bucket list for today!” He laughed and slammed his beery hand. “That’s great; I though bucket lists were a lifetime thing!” “Nah,” I advised,

There is only today when on vacation; that ‘lifetime’ stuff can wait.” 

Thus we convened the committee of two and, from that spontaneous summit, this list came to life.

Bucket list for today: 11 pretty okay ideas (because ten is never enough) 

• No whining—not even about insipid beer.
• Chat up and tip kindly some wonderful staff members here at Akumal Bay Beach and Wellness Resort.
• Stop and listen to every live musician.

• Check e-mail just once a day; reply rarely and keep it to one sentence.
• Text only when necessary for kid control or group logistics.
• Avoid digitalia; read books; write in journal.
• Get exercise: Swim, snorkel, paddleboard, kayak, splash, chase kids.

• Meditate, or approximate by hugging a tree or staring at the sea.

• Eat too much, and ignore the scale in the room even if you can convert kilos to pounds.

• Early to bed (exhaustion) and early to rise (the construction that is ubiquitous in paradise).
• Don’t worry about a thing—especially to-do lists left at home and the Bucket List for Today.

They may be the most mind-blowing invention ever. But are smartphones as amazing as we think they are?

They have never: Cooked a delicious meal; hoisted the sails; shoveled snow.

What’s more, they can be troublemakers, as an ever-growing body of research and press suggests…

• Smartphones can ruin vacations.

Our regal friends at Princess Cruises did some research and found that 67% of Americans would feel completely relaxed if they were entirely “off the grid.” 52% said that having a smartphone “makes it harder to relax.” Yet a cruise without wifi would be like a cruise without booze.

• Smartphones screw up your love life.

NYT and a boatload of researchers report that devices (not the bedroom kind) are making partners feel ignored, insecure, disconnected, abandoned, and just plain bummed. What happens when the shunned partner finally says, “You don’t turn me on anymore?”

• Smartphones cause “tech neck.”

Fact: Bodies age. Fact: Smartphones speed up that pain in the neck. Way back in 2011, 83% of cell phone users reported some neck and hand pain from texting. More recently, a local chiropractor says 80% of her cases are likely be related to phones. Not familiar with tech neck? Take a selfie next time you’re staring at your smartphone.

• Smartphones make kids slow and fat.

I’ve been sitting on this research for a while, but that keeps me in the theme. In short, the WHO believes that 80% of kids worldwide are not getting enough exercise. It takes youth (9-17), on average, 90 seconds longer to run a mile than it took their parents. There’s plenty of blame (and munchies?) to go around. But techno devices increasingly keep butts stuck in seats.

• Smartphones kill conversations. 

What’s better than sitting around chewing the fat with friends and fam? Checking your smartphone, apparently. Thus deteriorates thousands of years of progress in communicating via body language, expressions, and eye contact (remember that?). Run your own test: Ask some gathering, “Which ________ song said ______” See how many phones flip out. See how many memories die.

Not to worry. I got me an iPhone 6 now. The whole wide world is at my fingertips, right?

LOL.