Become a Hunter-Gatherer 21C (something I wrote an eternity ago) A complete two score and ten.

  1. Tell stories that fire the imagination.
  2. Cook meals that taste good, are nutritious and use local ingredients.
  3. Notice the weather and predict what is coming next: rain, shine, or snow.
  4. Sleep easily; arise early.
  5. “Warning: before beginning a program of physical inactivity, consult your doctor. Sedentary living is abnormal and dangerous to your health,” Frank Forencich.
  6. Throw high, throw long, throw accurately.
  7. Develop language and brachiate more.
  8. Use eyes for distances beyond the screen: look long, look up.
  9. Experience cold, rain, and wind and re-appreciate warmth.
  10. Pace the seasons.
  11. Remember what is important.
  12. Re-discover fresh herbs.
  13. Notice, observe and sense more.
  14. Stare at the night sky unpolluted by light.
  15. Move: walk, jump, climb, run, squat.
  16. Observe: animals, birds, insects.
  17. Establish rituals: writing, building & crafting, reflecting.
  18. Swim: dive, float, swim a little underwater. Try open water.
  19. Spend time with the tribe: love, frustrations, hugs, laughs and sheer craziness. Plan for winter. Stack logs, of course. Oh, stew the autumn fruit too.
  20. Practise walking along a three-by-four beam. One inch above the ground. One foot above the ground. One yard above the ground. Do not fall off.
  21. No elevators. No escalators. No PPT. No Facebook after the sun sets.
  22. Play ball.
  23. Sleep outside sometimes. Especially with 1, above.
  24. Develop skills with hands: flint spearheads, sure. Bake bread. Make your notebooks.
  25. Keep the cave tidy at all times.
  26. Be self-reliant: learn how it works, from pensions to mowers.
  27. Believe in magic.
  28. Respect Planet Earth and allow it to breathe.
  29. Explore new lands and walk their shores.
  30. Eat fruit, nuts, and seeds.
  31. Spend more days without concrete, plastic, and Wi-Fi.
  32. Draw on your very own cave walls.
  33. Allow a little dirt.
  34. Less gym desperation, more move with life.
  35. Walk barefoot, in the cave and then on increasingly demanding terrains.
  36. Read and share the great sagas. Start with Homer. “The difficulty is not so great to die for a friend but to find a friend worth dying for.”
  37. Live light. Travel lighter. Meditate lightest.
  38. Get thirsty. Drink deep and long.
  39. Use peripheral vision.
  40. “…to construct a narrative one must already live in the world, one must already dwell in the world and, in the dwelling, enter into relationships with its constituent parts, both human and non-human,” Tim Ingold.
  41. Get strong.
  42. Sweat while pacing through the woods and alongside the lakes.
  43. Walk tall; sit tall; listen deep.
  44. Scan the horizon.
  45. Evolve, change, and learn from the masters.
  46. Value wisdom over stuff, stillness over babble, investment over the quick-fix.
  47. “Today, our minds are almost entirely free to choose whatever sensory experience we can imagine; we can and do innovate to heart’s content. But the price we pay is excruciating. Living apart from our habitat will never be a path to health, performance, or spiritual happiness. We need our habitat to make us whole,” Frank Forencich.
  48. Develop mastery.
  49. Build and leave a legacy.
  50. Never let the fire go out.

Cut the Social Grease

There IS a time and place for pleasantries at work, but when we need to focus, let’s focus. Of course, rapport matters; we are social creatures, but it’s easy to overdo the gossip at the expense of both time and clarity.

Be direct and concise: Email: “Quick question: Can we move Thursday’s meeting to 3pm?” Meeting: “Thanks for coming. Let’s review the agenda. Here is what we need to decide today.” Conversation: “I have fifteen minutes. What’s the core issue?”

People value directness paired with courtesy. This is not rude; it shows respect for everyone’s time; you can remain warm and direct.

Pierre Lambert and The Cold Case Center

Chapter 2

Marseille nodded to the café owner, stepped behind the bar, and ran lightly up the staircase. There, he took a fresh burner from the stack in the fruit bowl. He rang the memorised number; kids could not do that anymore, but he had over 150 in his head. And only in his head.

‘Yeah. Confirming the meeting?’ He listened. The voice was whiny. ‘Why? I am a professional. I triple-check things. No, this call cannot be traced.’ The voice became less defensive. Marseille continued. ‘Okay, that’s all I need to know.’ Marseille closed the call and said quietly, ‘total idiot.’

He placed the burner on the floor, stepped on it with his full 1.9m and 92kg, and put the crushed result in a SuperU carrier bag which he took with him out onto the rooftop via the window. From there, he took the fire exit into a rear alley. These were the routes he had known since his childhood; little had changed in this part of the city. He knew the city well, better-in fact-than the back of his hand; he whistled ‘there are places I remember’ by The Beatles.

He dropped the bag into a bin.

Paranoid? Not at all. In a world of AI that could find connections hitherto thought impossible, and forensic testing now able to pull conclusions from a couple of stale atoms, he was cautious. The police, thankfully, continued to be stupid, lazy, and negligent. And of course, often corrupt. AI robots were not, never stopped working and were getting more effective all the time. He was back with Jacques and Philipe in twenty-two minutes, just as the café’s runner delivered trois cafés normals et trois croissants perched in a cardboard tray.

Marseille gave the adolescent-Rapha-a twenty euro note. ‘Perfect timing. Keep the change.’ He paused. ‘And most importantly, keep that attitude. Here is my card if you are looking for work.’ Rapha took the card.

Neither smiled, but they did bump fists. Rapha placed the card in the internal pocket in his Che Givara beret. French but not establishment was his statement Marseille guessed. He smiled: oh the joy of youth.