Art has the responsibility to mirror and push society forward. It can be our greatest social critic, our inspirational thinking, and the best mirror of how and what we're doing. It shows us what's important to society and where that might be found lacking. It often tests the limits of what's acceptable, palatable, and beautiful. Sometimes it reminds us of our higher selves, other times our worst shortcomings.

It can heal and destroy, elevate and devastate. Art isn't something you can evaluate with your head, it's a feeling. It elicits an emotional response. And, to me, if it doesn't evoke some kind of emotion, it's not art (by the way, repulsion and curiosity are as much emotions as peace, joy, or happiness).

Inevitably, it brings into focus the patterns and world that we want to surround ourselves with. Those things we want to push for or push against.

As someone who considers myself an artist, it's my grounding, my connection to Spirit and Mother Earth. It's my greatest meditation and, at times, my greatest source of frustration. But it always brings me into a deeper connection with both spirit and body.

I love to hike in nature. Sometimes I head to the shoreline preserve near my house, other times to the dish at Stanford. But my favorite place is an open space a couple miles from here.

It's got trails through both meadows and woods, all kinds wildlife, and some pretty cool vistas.

You see all kinds of people there. With one very notable exception.

Rarely do I see American families with kids.

I encounter a lot of Indian, Asian, and European families with their kids, but only very rarely do I see an American family. And usually when I do, it's because mom or dad is jogging and the kids are trying to keep up on bicycles.

Oh, I see a lot of Americans out there. Mostly with iPods plugged into each ear, running. Or walking and talking constantly. They are so focused on either their conversation or their mileage that they miss the quail scurrying for cover and the rabbits rolling in the dirt.

The few Americans I encounter hiking alone on the trails, without any musical accompaniment, are women. Men just don't seem to want to connect with nature in a slower, more involved way.

All this makes me wonder, how are American men and children getting exposed to nature? And what effect is this having on our decisions about the cars we drive, the amount we consume, and the need to preserve our open spaces?

Are we creating generations of young people who are more comfortable in malls and offices than in the wilderness? Forget the wilderness, how about just being outside? Are there kids who don't know what a deer or coyote looks like? Whose only encounter with a tree are those planted in parks, along streets, or somebody's yard?

I really try to drag my kids out there at least once a season, but it gets harder as they get older. It's hard just getting any time with them. But I want them to remember the peacefulness of nature, the relationship of trees to birds and animals, and the delicate balance of all things.

What I really want is for more young people to see the true beauty of Mother Earth, and to understand why we all need to be stewards of this amazing place.

Today I edited two of the more, how do I phrase this, painful chapters in my novel. They're painful because they describe two of the most inconsiderate and mean things anybody has ever said and done to me when I opened my heart to them.

These are not situations where you could honestly look at them and say, "Oh Mark, you're just taking this all wrong." They are both cases of somebody saying just about the meanest thing possible at that moment in time.

This was my second round of editing of these chapters (after writing). When I wrote each one, it was like reopening a wound. It hurt all over again. I was upset and felt physically ill all day (which really surprised me). When I went back to edit them a month later, I caught myself getting upset, so to protect myself, I turned surgical and mechanical. I got through the chapters, made them grammatically correct, but I was left feeling cold.

And that just isn't good enough for me.

So this time I actually looked for -- and found -- the humor in both situations.

I infused both situations with comic relief. I found myself inserting somewhat inappropriate quips — things I was thinking and wish I'd said — and laughing. So I kept them.

Now I'm smiling. I'm actually quite pleased with myself, and this is above and beyond the good feelings I've derived from getting positive feedback.

Today I'm happy because I do believe I've turned a corner. And in doing so, run into the Good Humor man.

Yesterday I was talking to my daughter, when she casually informed me that she was being scouted by a college lacrosse coach. When I asked what college, she replied Vassar. VASSAR! My daughter might go to VASSAR!?!? I know I'm getting ahead of myself, but oh my!

Beaming doesn't begin to describe the look on my face.

Then I drove my son and his mom to the airport. He's off to freshman orientation at Oregon. It was really great to watch his mom, who has become obsessed with learning all she can about the university, rave about it. For the first time that I can remember, she's incredibly proud of him.

Of course, he was trying to diffuse her enthusiasm.

Then I told him, "Let your mom enjoy this. She's really proud of you and excited for you. Smile and milk it. You'll both have a lot more fun if you do."

He smiled. I think he felt like she was still trying to control him, but that's not what's going on here. She's genuinely impressed by her son. And I haven't seen her this excited in a while.

I'm happy for all of them.

And for me. How blessed can one guy be?

This week has been full of huge swells and deep troughs. Being an eternal optimist, I'm going to focus on the swells.

Energy has been hitting me seven ways to Sunday all week long. The biggest surge was Wednesday around 2 PM. I suddenly felt that I needed to rest. I grabbed my iPod, and flopped into bed. I hit play and some meditation music played. As I was meditating, I could feel the energy surging through me. My hands got so hot that I had to move them away from my body.

Normally I can hold a deep meditation for 45 minutes to an hour. However, this was anything but a normal meditation.

More than two hours later, I started coming back around. It took another half hour for me to stop shaking enough to get up. Since then, all of my meditations have included huge surges of energy -- it's like getting hit with 220 volts (which, for the record, is not something you quickly forget).

Since then, the work has started pouring in. On Monday morning I'm meeting with one new client who wants some ongoing help for a couple months, then another new client that afternoon who also wants ongoing consulting in addition to individual projects. And today, my biggest client told me that her ad budget for one product got slashed, but she has money for some more fun ads that we need to start on in next week.

My kids are doing great, my business is picking up, and my novel is almost ready to share with some people who can help me get it published.

I guess the Angels are working with me

Access to information. When I was in war-torn Northern Uganda, one of the priests said that had they had access to the Internet before the civil war, the war probably would have never begun.

Free and easy access to information and communication technologies contributes to making societies more democratic. In addition to providing people from every walk of life with access to more information, ICTs enable two-way participation for people living in poor and underserved  communities, who are normally left out.

The more people know, the less likely they are to be swayed by the voices of hate and aggression.

Amanda apologized for tagging me because I made her laugh. So I felt compelled to do this. I actually had fun doing it (and it made me smile).

Here are the rules,

1. Link to the person that tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
4. Tag some random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
5. Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.
TIP - Please don't tag people who've already been tagged. Play mindfully.

1. When I was 6, we moved to a new home in Scottsdale that was just two blocks from the reservation. My favorite cartoon was Mark Trail, and during the three years we spent there, I learned to work with nature and became fascinated with Native American philosophy.

2. From 7 to 15, I wanted to attend the Air Force Academy to learn to fly jets. Barry Goldwater, Jr. was even going to write my letter of recommendation (he and my dad were friends). When I was 15, we discovered that I had issues with authority (not good for attending a military academy) when I spent more time in the principal’s office than in German class.

3. When I was 16, my parents took us on safari to Kenya and Tanzania. That’s when I discovered my true love -- photography. At 16, I shifted from wanting to fly jets to wanting to be a magazine photographer (with National Geographic being the ultimate). This spring, my 32-year dream came true, as two of  my photographs were published in Aware Magazine.

4. I was adopted. I’ve known it since I was young. And I used it against my parents often. As I now say to my mom at least once a month, I’m glad we all survived my adolescence.

5. Every night I list five accomplishments for the day. Making somebody laugh always makes the list ahead of work-related accomplishments. It seems to me to be much more important (and I love that Amanda tagged me because I made her laugh).

6. Even though I’m a writer and artist at heart, I love doing research. Often I’ll spend ten times as much time doing research as I will writing or taking photographs.

I'm tagging anybody who feels compelled to do this, as well as my Reiki Master classmates (Energy Healer and Luna). I thought it was fun, hopefully you will too. If you do, let me know.

The rest of the first line of this song continues, "where I am no fun anymore, I am sorry."

But that's not true here. I'm having a blast. And I'm definitely not sorry. I'm so done with sorry.

It's getting to the point where I'm finally more comfortable taking care of myself than others. This is big for me. I'm now comfortable saying, "I love you" to myself in the mirror. I can honestly say that what you think of me is none of my business.

And the best part? I still don't take myself seriously. After all, where's the fun in that?

Something inside is telling me that I've got your secret.
Are you still listening?
Fear is the lock and laughter the key to your heart,
And I love you.
I am yours, you are mine, you are what you are.

I hope your day finds laughter everywhere.
Remember the joy of little ones when the pizza guy arrives.
Or when they get dessert first.
And smile.

Most of all, sing!

Do-do-do-do-do, doo doo do-do-do
Do-do-do-do-do, doo doo do-do-do

I've coached a lot of kids over the years. I've seen some grow up and go on to play in college (well, beginning this fall). And I've always been more proud of the way they've played than the score.

I just heard about this today, but it happened a couple months ago. And to be honest, had I been one of the coaches of these two girls, I would be more proud of this than any championships they might win. Because these girls get it, on a scale I find simply amazing.


Now these girls are what I would call true sports heroes. I hope more kids grow up wanting to be like them.

This morning, while waiting for the train, I watched the second episode of the TV show, Titus. And I started laughing outloud. At the train station. With my headphones on.

I know this scared away all the attractive women who would have otherwise clamoured for a seat next to me. (Gawd I crack me up sometimes.)

But think of this... I'm still smiling.

What a gift!

So here's my advice for turning any day around. Download a very funny TV show or movie onto your iPod. And when you need a little boost, play it. And laugh.

I'm going to have a great day. Hope you do too.