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Category: Archives

The full collection of explorations.

When You’re A “2” Out Of “10”

A student of mine returned to martial arts class yesterday after having suffered from a rough few days of food poisoning.

Having been there, I know that coming back from this is no joke.

After the class concluded, he pulled me to the side and made a comment that I thought was worth sharing.

He said, “When I came to the school, I was at a 2 [out of 10]. I was texting my wife telling her how rough I felt and how I didn’t think I’d make it to class. After an hour or two I felt more like a 3. By the time class came around, I felt like a 4. Once I was in class I was a 5. And when it was over, I was a solid 6 or 7.”

I’ve written about this before and this is no small insight.

The byproduct of doing hard things is feeling better—a bump up on the feeling scale closer to “10.” Avoiding the hard things (or succumbing to excuses like, “I’ll do it when I’m a 10”), leaves you feeling worse or, best case, keeps you sulking at the number you started at.

Don’t get it twisted: we don’t do hard things when we’re at a 10—we do hard things to get to a 10 (or at least closer to it).

Big Plans Today

I have big plans for the future.

As do you, I’m sure.

And in the moments when I can feel myself wanting them to become a reality now—I remember that having them all come true now isn’t the point.

The point is in the figuring it out; it’s in the earning that comes from the journey; it’s in the having something big to aspire to.

Big plans are like the magnetic north of our lives.

…Arrive in a snap and we lose all sense of direction. Focus on following the pulled arrow of our compass and we get to take a series of deliberate steps forward today.

When you think about it like that—having a compass to follow or having no compass at all—suddenly, using our big plans for tomorrow as the vehicle that creates our big plans for today becomes the ideal path.

…Directionless is not a great place to be.

Onward.


P.s. My guide is all about how direction is more important than speed in life. If you need help figuring out your direction (and calibrating your life’s compass), check it out.

Becoming Interested In Nothing

It’s worse to take an interest in irrelevant things than to do nothing at all.

What might be some examples of irrelevant things?

  • Most news
  • Most social media
  • Celebrity dating life
  • Your ex’s daily life
  • Angry strangers

At least when we do nothing at all we get to sort through and settle what’s already on our mind, allow our imagination and creative sides to flex, and do some of the inner work that leads to greater feelings of contentment and fulfillment.

What I see, however, is most people living as if doing nothing is some kind of bad thing. As if it’s some sort of signal that we have nothing better to do. But, don’t get it twisted, doing things that are irrelevant to our path forward (what’s going to help us grow and improve) isn’t better—it’s the opposite.

Investing attention into irrelevant things is investing into distractions. Distractions which take our attention away from what is relevant to our path forward—ourselves. Which, surprisingly enough, is easiest to explore when we do more of the very thing we may have been subconsciously trying to avoid this whole time: nothing at all.


P.s. Does the thought of doing nothing freak you out? My guide can help with that.

Knife Paths

I decided today was the day I’d break my bike in for the summer.

I maneuvered it out from the back of my garage, dusted it off, filled the tires with air, cleaned off the ol’ helmet, packed my lock, and off I went.

…I didn’t make it but 10 houses down the street when my rear tire went flat.

Now, what this moment represents is one of those ever-so-present fork-in-the-road moments where you’re given a choice.

A) Swear, kick, fuss, scream, and temper tantrum until a dark cloud forms over your head.

B) Use it as an opportunity to finally learn how to change the inner tube on your road bike.

We’re given choices like these, dare I say, by the hundreds every week.

What many of us don’t realize is that by changing our choice to something like “B” more often, not only might we eliminate the dark cloud from forming, but we build a skill or new level of resilience that mitigates the same type of situation from happening again in the future.

I, for example, plan on keeping a back-up tube with me as I ride from now on. And the prospect of having to set aside hours of time and chunks of money to get my flat tire fixed by a professional, is a path that is quickly fading from any future forks in my road.

I’ll soon be able to do it myself.

…Which means less forks and more knife paths for me.

I like knife paths.

Normal and Nonspecific Moments

This weekend, I had the great pleasure of looking through my grandmother’s personal photo albums which included never before seen pictures of my dad, grandmother, grandfather, aunts, uncles, and various other associated parties.

In fact, it was just this weekend that I saw baby pictures of my dad—something I had never seen prior.

It struck me how grateful I was that those pictures were taken, collected, and saved.

And what I found most interesting was how much was coming back to my dad and uncle that they, just then, thought to share—things that I suspect would’ve never resurfaced otherwise. Memories that needed that trigger of a picture—taken during what would’ve been, I imagine, seemingly normal and nonspecific moments in time—to be revived in their minds.

…Moments that I, in my life, constantly question for validity and worth.

Like, why capture this moment? Why now? Why not in the next moment? Why not stay present and as aware of the moment as I can—minus the thought of how to best capture it? How to know what’ll serve the most long term value—capturing or thoroughly soaking in?

What I don’t know is how to answer those above questions.

What I do know is that, like my dad and uncle, there are countless memories laying buried in dark corners of my mind that need but a picture to be excavated and revived…

And no picture was taken.

Tomorrow’s Enemies

I heard a great piece of advice today: watch carefully how the people around you treat their enemies—because you may very well become one of them down the road.

While this might sound dark or pessimistic—in a world that’s filled with gossip, drama, lust, envy, greed, impatience, deception, miscommunication, frustration, pain, suffering, etc… I’d say it’s an all-too-common (and unfortunate) reality.

…Friends who were once inseparable, plotting for the other’s downfall. Family members who share ancestry, refusing to share a room or word. Lovers who make sacred vows, who later end up tangled in the nastiest of divorces.

The people who are able to stay calm towards their “enemies,” though? The people who learn to disassociate, detach, and move on? The people who can act with grace and kindness even towards the ones who they disagree with or who hurt them?

…Those are the people you want to keep around and form alliances with. And you’ll know—just from that one key observation at the outset… that petty battles can be avoided for grander wars. Wars that affect us all—not just them. Ones that pave paths forward, not continuously pulls both parties back to battles in ruins.

Keep it sharp in your mind: tomorrows “enemies” may very well be today’s allies. Watch carefully how your allies treat their enemies today. And (re)form your alliances accordingly.

The Ripples of Life

Today, I attended a wake for the father of a childhood friend.

I never met him, so I’m unable to comment on his life myself. But, how others summarize the life of another—someone dear to them—in the brief time allotted at a remembrance gathering will forever intrigue me.

Some of the themes that were shared of this gentlemen:

  • He was an honest man. Told you how he saw it. Sometimes to a fault.
  • Helped a tremendous number of people via Alcoholics Anonymous, St. Mary’s School for the Deaf, and his big & open heart.
  • Was brought to life by music and nature. If you looked at his face at a live show of a band he liked, he’d look like a child who just witnessed a miracle. And if there is a heaven, he’d be listening to live music near a cool stream of water.

At the end of a life, what we’re left with is legacy—the ripples of influence that flow forever outward as a result of our life actions. And if we’re lucky, some of those ripples carry on in the lives of others and continue to create fresh ripples long after we’re gone.

Today, I hope in hearing about this stranger’s legacy, you’re moved to be more deliberate in how you create ripples. Life is short. Don’t take ripple opportunities for granted.