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Green Cross Legacy Fund

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Give your best to this land, and it will return its best to you.   Now, approaching the threshold of social security, I reflect on all those who risked their lives for my freedom. The baby boomer generation holds a staggering $84 trillion in wealth—half of the world's total—according to the UBS Global Wealth Report 2024. Yet wealth alone is not the legacy that matters most. We are all shareholders in securing our children's future. We must maximize the value of our land and minimize its loss—because sustainable action now will save us trillions of dollars in the long run. Current economic systems fail to reward preservation. The American dollar thrives on faith in the Federal Reserve, but without TRUST, the system crumbles. What enduring environmental-economic security measures exist for the long haul? We must now channel that same unity toward safeguarding our collective future. If all Americans unite, financial and insurance institutions can offer a viable Plan B. But...
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The Zany Spirit of Oneness

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Or: How to Stop Wrestling with Yourself and Learn the Happy Dance There’s a great cosmic joke hidden in plain sight—the way reveals the way… when I stop tripping over my own feet. Turns out, life isn’t a labyrinth of riddles but more like a wacky treasure hunt where X marks the spot, but only when I stop squinting so hard at the map.   What I cherish most are those glorious, technicolor moments of unity—the kind that make me feel like the whole world is in on some grand, cosmic flash mob. That *zing* of interconnectedness where I cease being just me and morph into a joyful ripple in the great pond of existence
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Cultivating Joy

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We humans are a curious bunch, navigating existential crises while also wondering if we left the stove on. We ask ourselves grand, sweeping questions like:   • How do I find inner peace?   • What does it mean to truly live?   • Where are my car keys??   For me, the path to peace involves embracing contradictions. I have learned that wisdom hides in foolishness and that missteps can be the very best teachers. I have tripped—both metaphorically and literally—many times. And each time, I uncover new lessons (and occasionally new bruises).   With gratitude may I walk this path fearless, joyful, and occasionally ridiculous. May my heart remain happy, free, and open to possibility.    At any moment, I can choose presence, joy, and curiosity—or succumb to fear, regret, and the familiar grip of my old anxieties. But lately, I prefer the first option, with a splash of humor and a dash of adventure.   So, here’s to ...
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Country Club or Club for Our Country

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Country Club or Club for Our Country *"I would never join a club that would have me as a member."* – Groucho Marx   Growing up, my playgrounds were public parks. The city streets and green spaces of Washington, D.C., were open to all—except those with country club memberships. These clubs, with their manicured lawns and exclusive gates, were foreign to us.   My parents valued education. My father graduated law school, yet most of my siblings never finished college. I left George Washington University despite having a full scholarship, finishing high school a year early. Like Thoreau, I believed formal education truly begins when it ends. That belief deepened when I moved from struggling public schools in D.C. to the best institutions in the suburbs. It was my first real lesson in inequality.   Later, as a tennis professional, I lived in two worlds: one of hard pavement, sweat, and labor, and another of affluence and ease. I became, in essence, a...
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Fervor or Reverence? Choosing Virtue Over Division

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   In the last decade, I’ve witnessed a growing fervor in religious expression—bold, righteous, and unyielding. Yet reverence, true and humble, appears more scarce.   I live in the heart of the Shenandoah Valley, where faith is woven into daily life. The people here are warm, the landscape breathtaking, and the traditions deeply rooted. My grandfather was a minister, though I never had the chance to meet him. His legacy, however, speaks to me—not through grand sermons or rigid doctrines, but through the quiet humility that embodies true reverence.   Some wield their faith like a weapon, driven more by desperation than inspiration. Their fervor alienates rather than uplifts, replacing grace with aggression. Divisiveness has transformed discourse into hostility, turning victories into violent rhetoric. Fear Mongering fuels cycles of anxiety and conflict, eroding the very virtues faith should cultivate.   Yet in the quiet acts of kindness...
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H₂O and I: The Ripple Effect

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Water has profoundly shaped my life. It is the lifeblood of existence, connecting us all in ways most take for granted. From educating children as "Noah U Water" to uncovering unsettling truths during my graduate studies, I've worn many hats in its conservation. Yet, America often overlooks this universal solvent. My environmental journey began in a polluted watershed supplying Washington, D.C., where contaminated water once ignited. That discovery propelled me to adopt streams, testify under the Clean Water Act, and advocate for responsible stewardship. In a 1975 graduate course, I learned how pollution disproportionately affects the economically disadvantaged. Toxic runoff and industrial waste plague underserved communities, exposing the cruel irony that water—a basic human right—is often denied to those who need it most. The inequity remains stark; marginalized communities suffer the brunt of environmental degradation yet lack the power to combat it. Water ...
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Regain a Just American Spirit

Burying My Heart with My Broken Knees: Reflections on Scars, Wisdom, and Reparations   Recently, during a visit to my dermatologist, I remarked lightheartedly about the countless scars dotting my skin—souvenirs of my years as a tennis instructor, spent baking under the relentless sun by my own sundance. These thirty-plus marks, pale in significance next to the deeper, emotional scars I carry as a witness to the long-standing injustices faced by Indigenous peoples in this country.   I've always found solace in nature. As a boy enduring Washington, D.C.’s sweltering summers on passive solar panels known as tennis courts. The shade and cool air provided by trees became my refuge from the horrific heat.  The wisdom of the forest is where I developed a profound respect for wisdom of Indigenous communities.   This connection is woven into my own history. My grandfather, both a genealogist and a government statistician, worked extensively with Native data. My line...
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