Marlow's Musings 8/16/26

Audio narration by David Marlow

Reflections from a trip through Indiana, Illinois, and Wisconsin.

The flashing hazard lights on the car immediately in front of me were almost all I could see. Torrential rain and wind do not mix well when navigating 6 lanes of traffic in Chicago.

I’ve made this trip a hundred times, and rain is almost always part of the journey to my old hometown, Terre Haute. This level of intensity is not typical, however.

The Waze navigation app sounded an alert and ‘told’ us (I know, I’m anthropomorphizing an app) to take a detour for an unspecified issue. Moments later on an unfamiliar road, we found ourselves traveling through the remnants of a tornado that had passed through only moments before.

Trees strewn across the road. A roof from a house on the right side of the street resting on the left. Not a single tree seemed unscathed. Most were ripped from the ground, taking sidewalks, yards, and streets with them.

Waze was now no help because every street it told us to turn on was blocked by water or a downed tree. I ‘Marine Corps’d’ my way around, finally locating a way out. For another 50 miles or more, as we drove, there was no power. Traffic lights were out, or in one case twisted beyond recognition.

Given the path of destruction and timing, I’m convinced had we taken our normal route, we would have been caught up in that tornado.

Storms aside, the rest of our time was spent visiting with family. It was a unique opportunity for me to mostly observe as my mother-in-law’s youngest sister came for a visit. They are both in their 90s, and both know every meeting could be the last time they see one another.

Sisters and cousins swapping stories, asking questions, and inevitably the topic of age and birthdays came up. At one point, someone posited to my MIL, Jane, if she were going to live to be 100.

“At this point, I’m definitely going to make the next one; we will have to see after that,” she answered, laughing. Noting it would be her 94th and her older sister, Laura, passed away at 94 on her actual birthday. She didn’t want to do that, so definitely going to make it at least a bit beyond.

At lunch, the discussion drifted to nail polish. Alicia had chipped a nail and was talking about how she and our granddaughter C love to paint their nails. C loves bright colors and often paints her grandmother’s nails for her since it is difficult for Alicia with MS.

Jane shared, “When I was in first grade, another girl came to school with a bottle of red nail polish and at recess painted all the girls’ nails. I loved the way they looked, and when I got home, I showed my nails to my older sister, Laura. Laura said that nice girls don’t paint their nails red and helped me scrape the polish off.”

She went on to say that though there isn’t anything wrong with wearing red nail polish, she never felt comfortable using it on her own, preferring a light natural pink mostly for the shine.

Funny how things stick with us and how those impressions of meaning when we are young guide our thinking for the rest of our lives.

I’m reminded too of an observation made early in the 21st century. There was an uptick in deaths among the elderly in the months following the mark of the new millennium. Some researchers checked, and the same measure before the new year was well below average. They surmised that many older people were hanging on to see the year 2000 arrive.

My grandson and I were playing tennis last week, and he announced he was lucky. As is often the case, that led to a discussion. I shared that people who believe they are lucky have been shown to have more ‘lucky’ events in their lives. “Oh, yes, they taught us that in school. People who believe they are lucky are on the lookout for opportunities or remain optimistic even in bad situations and end up finding a solution.” Not bad for an 11-year-old.

Whether we believe we are lucky or that red nail polish is wrong, or even that we will live to see a specific event or time, our mindset and belief impact our reality.

/NIK-sən/

1: To do nothing; to idle or loaf

2: The deliberate practice of doing nothing (or almost nothing) without purpose, as a way to rest the mind and ease stress

From the Dutch niks (“nothing”), literally “to nothing.” In Dutch it can be mildly scolding (“Zit je weer te niksen?”—Are you doing nothing again?) or deliciously approving (“lekker niksen”—lovely doing-nothing).

Outside the Netherlands, it has morphed into a counter-spell (I’ve been reading a lot of Harry Potter lately) to constant productivity and efficiency. It isn’t mindfulness or meditation; nor a hobby or a goal. Rather, it is the freedom to let the mind wander while you stare out the window or sit with a cup of espresso (or beverage of choice) and no agenda.

This week’s Ikigai Thought for Today: A Toad Dropped By

Taking out the trash might seem like the least likely thing to connect to mindfulness. Such an occasion provided me a marvelous moment of ‘mazement.

This week’s Coffee Contemplation: Deeply Inhaling Life

My granddaughter C’s fresh eyes on our walk through the Dark Forest prompted an exploration of being aware and not settling for less than real life.

This special Coffee Contemplation was available to all subscribers. From the messages I’ve received since, many of you enjoyed it. Ikiquest+ subscribers can always listen to it in audio narration or read the transcription.

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This thought is from Bruce on the concurrent feelings of happiness and sadness explored in last week’s Musing…

“Lovely post, thank you a lot! We've spent our first summer with our first grandchild, and now I am back on the other side of the world tending to another dream. Sadness and happiness certainly intertwined.”

Bruce Atle Karlsen , a devoted reader of Ikiquest, has a marvelous newsletter where he shares many intriguing ideas, among them explorations of how to include Ikigai in business.

This thought is from William Shakespeare1…

“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”

Hamlet

Like my grandson, I believe I am lucky. Aside from what I would label divine intervention with the tornado, I’ve been lucky in many ways in my life.

I’ve survived a plane crash, witnessed a murder, narrowly escaping being murdered myself, rode out a Cat 3 hurricane in a mobile home, and many more. Some might say experiencing all of those things was unlucky; I prefer to see it as the opposite.

When I say lucky, I don’t mean some random roll of the dice at a universal scale. I really mean blessed. Because blessed is framed in gratitude, and gratitude is a mindset that alters reality as well.

We call it “bluck” in our family — a blend of blessings and luck. Jane has been like a second mother to me… in many ways, a first. I hope I’m blucky enough to have her around a long time, and I hope at some point between now and when she leaves this world, she wears some red nail polish just because.

Quest well!