For some 4.5 billion years, the earth has been trekking in revolutions around the sun. Humans have only been participating for about 200,000 years. I personally have made the journey just 44 times. What are 44 trips to the earth’s billions?

Now we complete another revolution, marked appropriately by the recent solstice, but out of convention established as December 31 by Julius Caesar in 46 BC. For all our modernity, we are still in the grip of ancient conventions. Who really can say where the starting and stopping of an earth cycle really begin and end? I guess Caesar can, but no one since him has done so. The Mayans thought they had it pegged differently, but they don’t have as much say in human conventions as they used to and now their calendar has run out completely.

There is something compelling in this notion, this marking of time by discrete units. As humans we like the idea of quantum chunks that can be assembled and built, even though the actual flowing of time is unbroken and continuous, infinitely divisible. The notion that we move from one second to another, one hour to another, one year to another is an artificial convention that we use for our own convenience. We use it because we feel time’s passage, but struggle to articulate what it means.

I know that time is passing. I see it in my face, my gray hair. I notice that my car, which was new in 2002 now isn’t. I see it in growth of other people’s children. As a child, I was both pleased and annoyed when my aunts and uncles would exclaim, “my, how you’ve grown!” I didn’t realize they were commenting on their own bewilderment at time’s acceleration more than my impressive growth spurts.

But it is true. A year here, a decade there, and pretty soon we realize that much of our life is spent in these revolutions that take us in a complete circle back to where we started. Daily, I make a revolution from my house to my work and back to my house. In my mind I experience the daily revolution of sleeping, waking and sleeping again. We travel in little orbits and return to where we started. And so with life too, returning to the soil and water and air the natural elements we carry for our years on the planet.

In this past yearly cycle, Elsa and I have tried to alter our orbits slightly by changing careers. Elsa successfully completed her MBA and began working as the Development Director at the Atkinson Graduate School of Management at Willamette University. Her new work finds her meeting with some of Oregon’s best-known civic leaders and philanthropists as she rebuilds the development efforts at the school and raises money for a new building to educate and train a new generation of leaders.

I also changed jobs this year, leaving the stability of the Gray Family Foundation to instead take the helm of the World Forestry Center. My work is challenging and intense and on more than one occasion has led me to question my own sanity. But for the most part, I am relishing the intricate puzzle that comprises revitalizing an organization that has been coasting for the better part of a decade.

I’m also learning a lot about trees, forests, and the complexity of managing forests with a 70-year planting cycle. I am driven by the knowledge that healthy forests are part of the solution to a changing climate and building a future where people want to take care of forests is one of the most important jobs I can hold. I am gratified and humbled by the work.

Elsa managed to sneak in a 2 week trip to Ireland over the summer and together we were able to fit in a 4 day trip to Lake Chelan in between jobs.

We had a nice visit to the Wooden Boat Festival in Port Townsend thanks to John and Kathy.

We checked out the Ape Caves in May for my birthday. Fun!

Beyond that, we have been consumed with work. Both of us have long commutes that make us wish for cars that are self-driving. Our little dog, Siena, has become my work buddy, making the commute and hanging out at the office during long days. We have enjoyed her growing affection as she ages.

But overall, 2014 has been good. Aside from the usual assortment of minor maladies, our health has been strong, our home secure, our families flourishing. Elsa lost her uncle Stacy just a few weeks ago, reminding us that our time is limited, but we can still have a great impact on the lives of others while we are here. Stacy made the most of his 72 years, connecting with friends, living a life of adventure and love.

None of us knows how many revolutions around the sun we have left, so lets stop living like life is an endless loop that must be survived and instead start living like it’s the adventure vacation that will all too quickly end. Time to get on it and have some fun.

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