There's this guy on my street named Ernest1. He's about 70 years old. I see him walking by my place a few times a day. Sometimes with his dog. Sometimes by himself. He sets the rhythm of my day.
Ernest wears tasteful horn-rimmed glasses, an unironic pony tail and vintage t-shirts that passersby probably try to buy off his back.
It's been a rough couple of years for him—cancer, broken leg, COVID twice—and it shows. Ernest’s gait has grown a bit unsteady, he's lost a good 30 pounds and some of the glimmer has gone out of his eyes.
But dagnabbit he's out there every day pounding the pavement. He's not hitting 10,000+ steps anymore, but a good 5,000 he tells me. More than most.
I had a good chat with Ernest the other day. The kind of engrossing chat we've been flirting with for the past couple of years, but not able to consummate because of a screaming toddler, ill weather or somewhere we had to be.
We got around to talking about his life. He'd been a paramedic, but retired early at 51, realizing that he couldn't do this physically demanding work forever and that he had other interests that he wanted to pursue. So he reinvented himself as an artist. He taught himself how to bend colourful tubes of fluorescent light into elaborate shapes. [Don't ask me how.] He's made a name for himself over the years.
Ernest hasn't had as much energy for his craft these past couple of years, but he won’t be deterred from walking. He takes inspiration from a long-deceased neighbor who, even into her late 90's, brought her own garbage cans to the curb every garbage day. But not just her own cans—the cans of all of her neighbours, including Ernest, too. He said he'd have to race to get to the garbage cans before her on many garbage days. She did this up to the very day she died.
Ernest said he wants to do the same—except for walking, not garbage cans. He plans to keep going until he can't go anymore.
Our conversation meandered to other topics—Gen Z, political division, common-law marriages, raising sons—before we eventually parted ways.
I've been thinking about my sidewalk chat with Ernest over the past few days. In the span of 10 minutes, he generously offered up a handful of Buddh-ish life lessons that really resonate with me and maybe with you too:
Lessons from Ernest, the firefighting artist:
Just keep walking.
Life’s never going to stop trying to trip us up. Suffering or dukkha is a feature not a bug. Denying this reality only sets us up to suffer more. Ernest, who’s had more than his share of suffering in recent years, faces this reality head on each time he steps out the door to go for a walk. I think we’re presented with a similar opportunity every time we make a trade. Pressing “buy” is an acceptance that the stock market is full of uncertainty and potential suffering, but we still want a part of that. Financial blogger/author Nick Maggiulli nicely captures this very idea with his “just keep buying” mantra.You can't be a paramedic forever.
Things change. We get old, sick and die. These truths are at the heart of the Buddha’s teachings. He called them “impermanence” and the “5 remembrances.” Ernest came to terms with these truths earlier than a lot of people and has flourished because of this. In our investing lives, we ride the waves of impermanence/volatility of the stock market and are forced to adjust our portfolios in response to life events. We can flourish if we, like Ernest, face these realities head on.Don't forget garbage day.
Quotidian chores like taking out the trash can feel soul-crushing at times. The daily grind challenges our delusions that life is an exciting and glamorous fairy tale. But routine tasks, like doing laundry or dollar-cost averaging, also present opportunities at practicing mindfulness and, in turn, living as fully in the present moment (the only moment we actually have). Ernest understands this. His late 97-year-old neighbor got it too. Zen master Thích Nhất Hạnh has suggested that we turn rote tasks like washing the dishes into meditations:
As I write the last few words of this post, I see Ernest making his way down the street. He’s wearing a great Thin Lizzy concert t-shirt. Looks like he’s turning something over in his head. I wonder what pearls he’s working on. I’ll let you know.
- The Buddh-i$h Investor
Takehome points:
Embrace change, old age and infirmity because they’re not optional.
Boring, soul-sucking chores (e.g., washing dishes, taking out trash, dollar-cost averaging) are opportunities to practice mindfulness.
If you’re looking for more:
Thin Lizzy’s righteous cover of Whiskey in the Jar:
A dishwashing meditation from Plum Village:
Nick Maggiulli on “Just Keep Buying”
I’ve changed his name and a few details to protect his anonymity.