I love Langley. I love Clinton too. And of course, Washington is one of my favorite places in the world. There are great things to learn by listening to the people on the street here.

 

Search engines and the NSA must be confused about now because, while all of those nouns could key to a spy thriller from a couple of presidents ago, it really just describes where I live.

 

Thirty years ago I moved to Seattle, not Seattle exactly, but its suburbs. I graduated from college with a degree in Aerospace and Ocean Engineering and wanted to work on commercial jets, maybe even commercial space shuttles, but didn't want to live in Southern California. That left very few options. Luckily, I liked the one I found.

 

One of my first friends invited me to acclimate by visiting his place on Whidbey Island: a very large island in the middle of Puget Sound that was close enough to be a bedroom community for the metropolis and remote enough to remain a rural community. Visiting was fine, but the commute didn't work for me, so for 25 years I bumped around Seattle's burbs. Five years ago I finally moved to the island. The first two years were in Langley, not the home of the CIA. The last three years I've lived in Clinton, which was not named after the president, but would probably swing that way on a vote. Langley is an up-scale tourist destination for those who stay overnight, and a quick getaway for weekenders escaping Seattle. Clinton is houses, many of which are for commuters or are second, third or fourth homes for people who rarely visit. Clinton is quieter than Langley. Langley is more fun.

 

Quiet is good, but not as lively as a tourist town, so I make regular trips to Langley, only ten miles away, just to run errands, bump into friends, and people watch. Relative to the land of Microsoft and Amazon, life here is slow, but steady. There's always something to do, but no hurry to get onto the next thing.

 

It is not, however, disconnected. Yesterday's walk around both, count them both, of Langley's business streets swept through conversations about new technology, sustainable community, alternative economies, market trends, and discretionary spending. The walk also brought up passionate talks about photography, writing, sculpture, activism, dance, and of course gossip. It is a small town. There is always gossip.

 

Topics don't confine themselves to narrow boxes. A promising photographer asked me which stock to buy. I wouldn't tell him, because I didn't know. I know what works for me, but I can't know what stock, if any, will work for anyone else. That kicked off another conversation about philosophy which was only interrupted by customers. As we closed our discussion though I pointed out that, while I don't mind talking about balancing life and money, I was more interested in hearing about his photography. Stocks are fun, for me, but how's the shooting going? Eventually, I'll get to see his photo web site. (Hey, where's that link you promised?)

 

 

The photography conversations were both passion and opportunity. The passion is obvious. The opportunity was easy to overlook. All of the photographers I know are experimenting as technology changes. Even the film photographers are more likely to play with scanning and printing options that were unimaginable a decade ago. Somewhere in there is a viral app, like the one that led to the mural, that enables the pursuit of a passion and an opportunity to invest.

 

The investment aspect is secondary. Life is primary. Talking about investments is useful in today's society, but the subject can spiral down into a trap. Life is not a trap. Life is story, emotion, struggle, joy, and is expansive. One aspect leads to another unexpected avenue. There's the true source of inspiration whether it is for pursuing dreams or finding ways to fund them. What stock to buy? What are you interested in? The best stock screen starts with what makes you smile.

 

Another sidewalk talk pointed out that I might be a bit uncommon. (Ha.) A friend pointed out that I enjoy listening, then finding that thread that leads to another way to run an organization, or a different approach to a problem, or a twist on an artistic expression, or a potential investment that might fund a passion. To me, it's easy and natural. These secrets are hidden everywhere and are easily uncovered by listening and connecting. I've found insights in suburbia, within corporate walls, and at the shopping mall. Many of them are fascinating. Some are profitable. They're there for anyone to find.

 

I'm lucky enough that I get to spy them out with friends in a town as nice as Langley, where the only real secret is where to find the best chocolate.