“Say something in Latin”.

“Semper Fi“.

“Too militaristic (or ‘fanatical’, as Aaron Sorkin would say), say something else”.

“Mens et Manus“.

“Too obscure and too geeky, try again”.

“Carpe diem“.

“Better, but…”

…so damned cliché. And too imperative. Maybe I don’t want to seize anything right now. Maybe I want to let go of something right now instead, or get away from something, or maybe even just do nothing right now. That’s my prerogative (as long as I’m not hurting too many people, I guess). So I get that “carpe diem” means “look around you”, “don’t miss out”, “don’t blow it”, “don’t let the big one get away”…nice idea, but life can’t be about seizing all the time. What’s the kinder, gentler version of looking around and not missing out? What’s the version that allows for us to seize when seizing is in order, and let go when letting go is in order…the version that factors a free, floating bliss into the equation? Maybe it has to do with an awareness of where we’re at, and how we’re doing, and what we need—or don’t need—in our lives right now.

“Semel in vita“, once in a lifetime. Not a command, or a directive, but rather just a simple statement. And it doesn’t have to do necessarily with big adventures, like a trip around the world, but rather with all things that happen: big or little things, everyday things, and things every day. And what should we do with those things? I don’t know. I guess, maybe just recognize that each thing comes by once—at least in its particular, current incarnation—, and we can figure out what we think about it, and can decide what we want to do about it. Whether to love it or leave it, or whatever else.

Which brings us to this blog. Ostensibly, it is to chronicle our big trip (me and Mom), and in particular, to tell of the famous and iconic places we will visit, and to capture something of the daily adventures and happenings relative to the larger journey, as we travel around the world. But maybe it is also to put the trip itself in perspective relative to the larger flow of everything in the world (in a Mandelbrotian kind of way). So we’ll try and document the sites, and the activities, and the things we see (and eat and smell and touch, etc.). But hopefully (or am I supposed to say, “it is to be hoped”?), we will also be able to say something about how we feel about them. And presumably (“it is to be presumed”), there will be things that we seize, and things that we do not. I would like for us to treat each moment as unique, to give each moment its due regard, and to add it (or let it be added) to the registry of the journey (in any/every denotative sense of the word).

So, as this blowhard introduction makes clear, a blog is a dangerous thing in some people’s hands. I tend to overthink everything (except for the things I underthink—there is probably no in-between). I have resisted starting blogs in the past, mostly because I fiercely guard my privacy as a matter of principle and being, but also because I know I will never stop thinking and rethinking about every entry. I will never stop editing. Alfred Slote says in this video (sent to me by Bruce), that he always wrote his books on a typewriter because “a typewriter is a writing machine, [but] a computer is an editing machine”. So, maybe I should be doing this blog (and perhaps everything else in life) on a typewriter, and not a computer. Somehow, it would be truer. Anyway, for the sake of being able to keep all of you (family and friends) updated on our journey, I will try and conquer my thinking and editing demons, and post entries that actually convey some information you might be interested in (unlike this one). I’ll also try and get Mom to write some posts of her own. I wonder which will be the tougher challenge.