Category: Making A Difference

Yesterday, on the day of my uncle’s wedding, I got a text from his fiancé—soon to be wife.

She texted me playlist links, music signal cues, order of events, and other details pertaining to the DJing and emceeing of the wedding.

She had so much faith in me to rise to the occasion that she casually sent it to me the day of the wedding itself—details that I hadn’t seen or heard about prior to that text at all.

…And that trust?

…That faith?

…That casual belief that was lended to me in that moment?

Absolutely made me rise to the occasion to make sure they had the best day of their lives.

In that moment… in the few hours leading up to the wedding… there was no room for worry or overthinking.

And even though my mind wanted desperately to go there—I kept it focused on the love and generosity of their trust and belief.

And it was through that energy that we were able to make some wedding magic happen for two people who I admire, respect, and love dearly.

And when somebody lends that kind of trust and belief in you… maybe you, too, can alchemize it into a magical kind of energy…

When I was a kid, I used to play football in the street, basketball in driveways, and wrestle—WWE style—on front lawns. And knew it was time to go home when the streetlights came on.

Nobody had a cell phone. Nobody had a tablet. And we were too busy IRL to really care about video games.

Fences, stairs, and stoops were our playgrounds. Gravity, concrete, and cooperation were our teachers. And it was the whole neighborhood who raised us.

I wouldn’t trade this upbringing for anything. But know that times have changed. With screens galore and billions being poured into keeping us glued to them… there has never been a bigger need for initiatives that lead us into the IRL.

…And somebody needs to lead.

My plea with today’s post is simple: what’s something you can start that’s off screen? Who can you involve that would love to help? How can we give this new generation a taste of what it’s like to really live in this IRL world?

Early last week, I got a call from a student of mine who’s like a little sister.

She asked if I was going to a martial arts tournament that she was competing in that weekend—and I told her I wasn’t planning on it.

She essentially put on her “puppy dog” voice and asked if I would go anyway.

…And so I did.

I booked a flight the next day, got a rental car, figured out my room and stay situation, and told myself I’d figure out the rest as I went.

…And I’m so glad I did.

Had that student not called me, I never would have gone. And I would’ve missed out on so many experiences, memories, and moments worth cherishing.

Sometimes we don’t call people to ask if they’ll go with us because we don’t want to “inconvenience them.” Or because we’re afraid they’ll say no or reject us in some way. Or because we figure if they wanted to go, they would’ve taken the initiative to make the plans themselves.

But here’s the thing: invitations are gifts.

…It’s how I genuinely feel about the invitation I was given by that student.

And by not extending invitations to people you would genuinely want to join you on a trip or to an experience or to be a part of shared moment… you’re withholding gifts to those very people.

Gifts that could very well give them something worth cherishing.

A student of mine was telling me about a tough situation she was facing.

Her brother-in-law was diagnosed with cancer, had just finished some intense rounds of treatment, got early release from the hospital, and came home to a water-damaged house—which involved all kinds of challenges, not the least of which being her brother-in-law was supposed to be recovering in a clean and sterile environment.

So this student went to the house to help in any way she could and saw her sister break down and start crying—and this was the sister that rarely cried. She was the strong one… she was the rock… she was the one who did the supporting.

…And one of the toughest moments was when she couldn’t even hug her crying sister. She had to socially distance to minimize the spreading of germs—and had to essentially stand there and watch her strong sister breakdown.

…And so what did she do instead?

…She thought about how her sister was very much a “card person”—you know, the type who would send hand-written cards at every excuse of a holiday and celebration to those closest to her.

…And thus came the idea to “card flood” her sister.

She personally messaged 40+ people asking them to write a card to her sister offering their support and kind wishes. And asked if they would send the card by the end of the week. This way, her sister was flooded with a version of support and kind wishes that she could receive… and in a form she deeply resonated with… and could keep close to her heart throughout the entirety of her trying time.

The question is not whether or not we’re leaving pieces of us behind… the question is to whom are we leaving behind those pieces?

…And what pieces of ourselves are they getting left with (to utilize; to loathe; to remember us by; to resent us for)?

If I think too much about who’s on my email list, I have a really hard time settling on a topic.

Should I write for the parents?

Should I lean more towards business casual or drinking buddy language?

Should I bear in mind the people I’ve met through martial arts or music or social media or education or travel?

But then I come back to my mission statement: I help busy people do inner work.

…And I can focus again. Because I’m not writing for any one person on my list. In fact, I’m not even writing for the entirety of the people on my list.

…I’m writing for me. Because I’m busy. And I need to keep finding ways to do inner work.

Because I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: daily writing that’s inner work based is one of the best things I’ve ever done for my mental health, healing, and personal growth.

And if I can help some of the other busy people out there via the work I’m doing for myself… or help them build a practice that’ll guide them forward in the same way my practice has guided me… then that’s a pretty incredible bonus.