Re-Gain

At my fiftieth high school reunion last weekend, I reunited with the son of Senator Frank Church. In 1971, I had the honor of interviewing Senator Church—the statesman who dared to expose the CIA’s abuses of power. A decade later, I testified before Congress myself.   Over the years, I have spoken at every level of government because I believe in the process of lawmaking—and in the sacred duty of citizens to speak truth to power.   Today, that duty is under siege. Peaceful protesters are being met with indictments, intimidation, and even the deployment of the National Guard in our cities. The irony is bitter: James Comey’s actions helped Donald Trump ascend to the presidency, yet Trump now cries “insurrection” in Democratic strongholds—while failing to defend the Capitol itself, where police officers were killed and injured.   We are drifting into a Brave New World of doublespeak, where dissent is branded as danger and patriotism is twisted into...

I am a Baby Boomer.  I just attended my fiftieth Walt Whitman high school reunion. I’m a third-generation Washingtonian—my father worked for Congress for forty years, and my grandfather was an economist at the USDA. I’ll soon be leaving the Edgemoor Club in Bethesda, where I’ve been a member for over sixty years—and once served as the pro. I was fortunate growing up, surrounded by adult mentors who modeled generosity and reciprocity. We still have a house in the neighborhood. I stand on the shoulders of the Greatest Generation—those who endured war, built infrastructure, and laid the foundation for prosperity. Yet I find myself deeply unsettled by what my own generation is leaving behind. With an estimated $84 trillion in accumulated wealth, Boomers hold unprecedented financial power. But what are we doing with it? Too little, I fear—for the future, for the environment, for the generations to come. I have no children of my own—just one nephew and one niece. And I often ...

I grew up as a Unitarian, so I suppose you could say I’m somewhat spiritually promiscuous. Over the past three decades, I’ve studied Buddhist philosophy with intensity and devotion.   I believe everyone can benefit from exploring Buddhist psychology. Still, I doubt the religion itself will ever become extremely popular—because most people don’t want to look directly at the sources of their suffering.   For me, becoming a Buddha—rather than simply identifying as a Buddhist—has eased my anxiety. Meditation and my reverence for being outdoors have been essential to my mental wellness. Accepting the suffering of others as also my own freed me from self‑pity.   For years, I struggled to relax and savor the moment. Part of that came from self‑medicating. Since my teenage years, I have smoked marijuana. Later, as it became more potent, I began drinking. I didn’t drown my troubles—I merely irrigated them. My anxiety only grew the more I obsessed over my...

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Self-Care Today, the world seems to get crazier and crazier. Taking care of oneself myself feel like a conundrum—yet self-care is essential. Creating an inner feedback loop that reshapes old patterns and stimulates new attitudes is paramount to moving beyond my past criticism and cultivating self-compassion.   Fostering non-judgmental behaviors motivates me to lessen my pain and encourages greater well-being. Developing and wiring this internal feedback loop can be thought of as flipping on my inner light switch.   One example of how coaching can help develop this is through the body–mind connection. You might be asking, “Why would coaching help me with fibromyalgia?” The answer lies in the feedback loop between body and mind. Pain creates physical stress, which releases stress hormones. These hormones, in turn, affect mood and contribute to depression, trauma, and anxiety. A cycle is formed: pain feeds stress, and stress feeds pain.   For many ...

 https://www.waste360.com/composting/george-washington-the-composter-of-our-country

Once upon a time, the U.S. dollar reigned supreme in global finance. Today? Our once-glorious dreamboat is listing hard—on course for a spectacular shipwreck. The so-called “big, beautiful bill deal”—a phrase that sounds like it was brainstormed in a boardroom full of kindergartners—has backfired with flair. Tariffs, tantrums, and a dash of autocracy have turned the dollar into a global punching bag. Americans are now paying the price—not just in inflation and economic whiplash, but in awkward international encounters. We’ve ghosted allies, scared off tourists, and made immigrants wonder if they accidentally wandered onto the set of The Apprentice and got fired. Isolationism may be mind candy for MAGA, but it’s brain cancer for the economy. By 2026, $6.4 trillion in U.S. debt will come due. Foreign investors, once eager to hold our debt, are jumping ship. Treasury ownership has plunged from 34% in 2014 to just over 21% today. The leaking bucket has been handed off to U.S. banks, Wall S...

Our righ ts are inseparable from our responsibilities—the ability to respond to what is right and what is wrong. Yet today, I find myself asking: what part of the Constitution do we no longer understand? Everyone has an opinion, but due process seems to have devolved into a “do-do” process. The principles that once anchored our democracy now feel muddied by confusion, privilege, and selective enforcement. Over time, I’ve watched elected officials—often people of means—speak passionately about freedom. Yet if you don’t have six figures in the bank, your ability to exercise certain rights is severely limited. Even understanding the Constitution and the Bill of Rights has become a polarizing debate. There’s irony in how individual rights, especially those protected under the First Amendment, play out in real life. They often hinge not on principle, but on access to competent legal representation. If you’re poor in this country, your odds of going to jail are far higher than if...

Years ago, a wise teacher named Greg Kramer introduced an exercise in cultivating virtue—an invitation to reflect on our kind and generous acts. That simple practice opened a doorway to something profound. To feel more unified, to experience a sense of oneness, I turn toward virtue. Selfless acts awaken a higher power within me and align my being with something greater than myself. The human brain, with its hundred billion cells, is divided into two hemispheres that constantly communicate. The left hemisphere concerns itself with the past and future. It thinks in lines, organizes details, and processes language through an inner voice that reminds us of tasks and responsibilities. It is the seat of calculating intelligence—the voice that insists, “I am separate.” But when I access the right hemisphere, I experience myself as a conscious presence—interconnected, inwardly attuned. I feel a deeper freedom when I connect with the greater whole. Yet too often, the left dominates,...

The most difficult teaching in Buddhism, for me, has always been the concept of no self. You can call it the higher power, the Great Spirit, or being one with God. But this state—being fully present in the unified field—I’ve touched it many times, especially when I’m alone in the woods. No self is a meditation on impermanence. No fixed identity—nothing we can definitively point to and say, “This is me.” Doesn’t the self, paradoxically, deny its own existence? It challenges me to locate it in any one thing. So how do I navigate my world? By exercising my highest power. He’s always been a challenge—I call it my inner game. At times, a part of me lives in the ordinary, and a part of me dwells in this extraordinary field of awareness. I have a tremendous love affair with the wilderness. Being outside, surrounded by trees and silence, feels like coming home. But I grew up in an ego-driven society, where everyone’s chasing their own reflection. I got caught in the trap of overthi...

Best Practices for Managing Harmful Household Chemicals https://share.google/Q91yhrb8RKGRipdyW

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After four decades of advocating for better resource management, I find the future increasingly bleak. Ignorance, indifference, and greed have become a dark art—transforming our dreamboat planet into a shipwreck. Once, the word economic evoked restraint: saving, conserving, not consuming. My grandfather—a Princeton and Dartmouth economics professor and USDA trade advisor—shaped my understanding of the tangled roots beneath our financial system. From him, I learned that economics isn’t just about money. It’s about choices, consequences, and stewardship. It was meant to be the sustainable management of resources for the future. Throughout my environmental career, I helped shape pollution prevention and sustainable commerce initiatives—including Clean States, a bold project that, though never launched, sparked urgent dialogue on civic engagement and corporate accountability. Pollution prevention isn’t just sound policy—it’s smart business. It streamlines operations, reduces co...

We come from the Earth, and to it we shall return.  Let us remember this enduring truth: how we live matters. We stand at a critical crossroad.  Does the land belong to us?   Indigenous wisdom says otherwise: we belong to the land. Through neglect, we’ve rendered vast regions uninhabitable for countless beings.  What must we do to ensure the survival of all life?   Our ancestors left us a legacy—wisdom etched in ritual and reverence.  Interdependence is not a choice; it is the foundation of life.  Everything is connected. Let us celebrate this truth through art, music, dance, song, and ritual Expressions of gratitude for the world that sustains us.  Without them, our despair deepens. Let us honor our ancestors by planting seeds of hope.  By walking the four-fold path of renewal, we embody sacred archetypes: - 🌱 The Grateful Warrior: Uses power wisely—to show up with courage.   - 💖 The Compassionate Healer: Ex...

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To sustain myself, I count blessings. This sacred act stirs me from despair. Each gratitude I name becomes an act of recreation—gentle defiance against destruction. Life is brief. That truth, instead of frightening me, guides me toward joy. If I choose to use less, make less, and walk more lightly, then—whenever my end comes—I leave this Earth not as a conqueror, but as a loving guest. Yet here we stand. Humanity risks reliving the extinction event of 55 million years ago. Only this time, the culprit is clear: it’s us. Each of us holds immense power—not just in policy or protest, but in personal transformation. The most radical act might simply be choosing grace. As the planet warms and population balloons, I live with less. Less clutter. Less worry. Less hurry. We sit atop a melting iceberg—both physically and spiritually. Billions survive on mere dollars a day. Over a billion lack clean water. History is drenched in crisis. We must not repeat its recklessness. Technology ...

As a boy growing up in Bethesda, Maryland it felt more than coincidental that two extraordinary athletes—trailblazers in their sport—emerged almost simultaneously. I first met Donald Dell at the Edgemoor Club, where his electric presence lit up every conversation about tennis. At the time, he had just been named captain of the U.S. Davis Cup team—a title that seemed to glow with prestige. But Dell was never just a standout player; he was a visionary. Years later, he co-founded the Association of Tennis Professionals (ATP) and launched ProServ, one of the earliest and most influential sports marketing firms. His legal training at Yale and the University of Virginia paired with his passion for tennis, making him a formidable force both in the courtroom and on the court. Representing legends like Arthur Ashe, Stan Smith, and Michael Jordan, he fundamentally changed how athletes navigated business, fame, and legacy. In the 1970s, another name—Deane Beman—buzzed through Bethesda...

Awakening in a Mindless World If there are more neural connections in our brain than stars in the Milky Way, then why are we so clueless?   Embracing my own mindlessness, I step forward.  This vulnerability shifts my paradigm. So how do we become more mindful in a mindless world?  It begins with remembering: everything has been thought of before.   Now the question is—can we think of it again? I grew up courting triumphant disaster,  witnessing the best of financial times in an emotionally distant society.   Raised in the material swirl of 1960s Washington, D.C.,  I longed for future wisdom.  But shame and guilt, born of our self-indulgent world,  have often eclipsed such progress. The question remains:  How adaptive are we, truly, in our quest to survive?   Do we treasure resources for the future—or are we deluded? I’ve come to embrace the insignificance of temporary things,  while holding space for the who...

The Attitude of Mitakuye Oyasin One of my dearest friends once told me that the single most important word in the English language’ve held onto that truth. For over two-thirds of my life, I’ve wrestled with deep sorrow over how we, as humans, treat the Earth—especially when it comes to trash. But I’ve come to see that when I let despair, depression, or even apathy take root, I only add to the harm. Now, just a few years shy of 70, I find myself entering a season of life where things are beginning to break down—physically, emotionally, materially. And yet, I’m more drawn than ever to plant seeds of possibility, purpose, and potential. My measure of quality in life is no longer about accumulation or achievement, but about contribution. It’s about finding that sacred sweet spot where I can be of service—where what I offer matters. As a visitor here on this sacred Earth, how I leave it—and what I leave behind—matters deeply to me. I live with the intention to treat all things a...

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...

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

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 ...

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...

   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...

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 ...

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...