Author: Kristina Kalapos

Kristina has thrived as an entrepreneur, writer, adjunct instructor, and ski instructor. Born in Zurich, Switzerland with strong ties to her Hungarian roots. Her first manuscript, a memoir, Sailing Naked is scheduled to launch in January 2026. She has shared her instinctive passion in business, the classroom and on the slopes. These endeavors were cultivated by the perseverance and resilience exhibited by her father and grandparents who traded their Hungarian heritage for freedom. After a year in Zurich, her American mother and Hungarian Freedom Fighting father relocated to the US. Stints on the east and west coasts, the birth of her brother, and move to the Midwest all preceded Kindergarten. Despite two school years as a third grader, a concerted effort enabled her to avoid the self-perceived stigma of college as a fifth-year senior, the motivating equivalent of two laps as a third grader. She graduated college with a BA in Communication Arts, in four years, with her friends. No more wallowing in the weeds. Facing failure and pulling up her bootstraps with an I-dare-you attitude, became her mantra. The lessons set in motion the day the Hungarians succumbed to the Soviet forces paved her future’s path. Their sacrifices preceded her arrival on the planet but contributed the grit and fortitude necessary to persevere through the tumult of life. After 27 years in Chicago, Kristina and her partner live in Michigan. Her spare time is consumed by family and friends who share the love of the water, sailing, skiing, and her 2 dogs Sailor and Oliver.

Repetition, Repetition, Repetition – Is There Power in the Pattern?

If habits were easy to break, then we wouldn’t need to resolve anything with each new year! Eating better, getting exercise, taking more time for ourselves, or reading a new blog or book are things we excuse ourselves from until it’s time to flip the calendar and begin anew.

It’s the repeated pattern of behavior that hones our direction toward perfection. Since it’s NCAA March Madness time, let’s talk about Caitlin Clark of Iowa. Her daily off season training schedule consists of sprints and 300 shots at the hoop, 100 3 pointers, 100 mid-range and 100 free throws with a goal of 77%.

Truly astonishing, that is one high ass bar! (Btw, if you haven’t seen her play it is a must and it’s not too late. Even if you aren’t a b-ball fan check out her game.)

Practice makes perfect!

Since most of us are not elite athletes, what is realistic for our average selves?

Repetition, Repetition, Repetition!

If we can create nearly unbreakable patterns of poor behavior, then surely, we can create nearly unbreakable patterns of positive behavior!

When I was in college, I could not get out of school fast enough. Clearly, evident in the picture below, me pictured on the left in bare feet poised to get the hell out of there fast! (Thanks Wendy L. for pulling it from the archives.)

photo by: Pat di Gregorio

I busted my average-student ass and took 40 credit hours in 2 semesters to graduate with my class and be done with it. What is the one thing that sticks out most from those days, you ask?

Our commencement speaker, W. Clement Stone. Don’t let the picture fool you! I was listening!!

A self-made entrepreneur, and philanthropist with a notable mustache, he spoke of PMA – Positive Mental Attitudes as a fundamental component of success and pounded his fist on the podium each time he emphasized “Repetition, Repetition, Repetition,” in reference to creating or changing a pattern of behavior.

“Every person has the potential ability to achieve it, they just won’t pay the price to achieve it.”

So, what is the price?

Discipline, fortitude, commitment? He believes wholeheartedly that the subconscious and conscious mind have the power to achieve great things with focus, determination and Repetition, Repetition, Repetition.

So why is it so hard to break bad patterns in favor of good?

Is it simply a function of thought process and changing the pattern of behavior? I can only answer these questions for me, but hands down, my fear of failure single handedly motivated my choices through life dating back to my lack luster path as a struggling student.

I wasn’t worried about failing per se, rather quitting or giving up. When I left college on the heels of my senior year success, I had the proof in my hand. Not the hard-fought diploma but the hard-fought discipline, fortitude and determination that brought me to the finish line.

close up photography of a white line
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Since then, I have carried that win forward in all of my future endeavors. Not the win itself, but the pattern of behavior that lead me there. It was a pattern I repeated at every avenue of challenge, opportunity, struggle, or mystery.

I knew if I could manage ‘that’ then surely, I can manage ‘this.’

To this day, if conversation is moving in that direction, I will say it with the same vigor whilst pounding my fist on the counter, “Repetition, Repetition, Repetition.”

Thank you, W. Clement Stone, for leaving an indelible mark on my young impressionable self. Your words continue to serve me well.

It’s Time to Say the Hard Things

After sitting on my unpublished website for almost 2 years with a folder of random writing, I saw its purpose exclusively to promote my forthcoming memoir, Sailing Naked. When I finally launched it and hit ‘publish’ on my first blog post, What the ‘F’ is Wrong with People? I hoped it would bring traffic and exposure to my book. My entrepreneurial spirit in sales and marketing put to good use, I thought.

My ambition and direction with this blog found its way more by accident than intention.

concrete road
Photo by Maizal Najmi on Pexels.com

I write from and through my own personal experiences as well as things I bump into along the way. My perspective is not derived from a formal education rather the school of trials, tribulations, adversity and the angst, anxiety and depression that ensued in their wake.

I cringe each time I hit ‘publish’ knowing I am exposing more of me to all of you but publish I do.

I see the option to sink or swim in life as a choice while fully knowing others don’t have the ability to or chose not to. If my life lessons are akin to the burn of a Hot Stove then wallowing in my scars is a choice I avert with intention.

In my youth, I scaled mountains of adversity long before most of my friends knew what adversity meant. It affirmed the resilience and perseverance exhibited by my grandparents and showed me how to grow from the challenges.

While I had my share of depressive times, my darkest days appeared in the years (teens, 20’s and into my 30’s) long struggle with my sexuality (gulp, yep, I just said that, Publicly).

I suppressed much of it in an effort to be normal but felt mortified, ashamed and embarrassed to not be like everyone else. I had boyfriends, fell in love and hoped to marry to mask and repress who I knew myself to be.

By the time I was 30, I had stood up in 10 of my friends’ weddings and found a depression I didn’t know could exist in me. I was single, petrified of coming out, of crossing the line, of accepting who I was.

After suppressing it for so many years, I couldn’t carry the weight anymore, and the darkness consumed me. It took me three more years to find the courage.

One friend, a constant through my 20’s and beyond, we’ll call her AB, was there.

Always there.

She asked the hard questions and said the hard things. She didn’t judge me, rather encouraged me to find me, and supported my future’s path which eventually, years later, enabled me to embrace who I was.

While the depression waned, outside of the obscurity that living in Chicago provided, the shame and embarrassment lived through my 30’s and 40’s.

Fortunately, today I don’t give a fuck so owning my space gives me pride. I’ve found patience and gratitude. Being frank and direct is my way. Objectivity, positivity, and optimism flow like rhythms of my favorite song, and wallowing in things I can’t control along with regret are things of the past.

Why does all of that matter?

Because what I didn’t see coming through all of this was the support, feedback, resonance, validation, and acceptance that has resulted. Hearing from others about their personal experiences, enables me to persist and step out of my comfort zone with my writing by exposing things I’ve previously hidden.

It may have even saved a life.

With permission, here is a condensed excerpt of what someone wrote to me,

“This past year has truly been the toughest… the deepest depression, anxiety, no sleep. I finally called my doctor and asked for help and told my spouse…. In January, I pulled up your latest blog about suicide, which hit me so very hard. Since I have read your blog, there has been something poking and tugging at me… I didn’t want to be another person you wrote about… You both have made an amazing impact on me. THANK YOU. If I am struggling, I will say something.”

A timely New York Times article hit my in box with some surprising stats, Suicide Science, written by Ellen Barry, published 2/21/24.  Excerpts below:

“Research has demonstrated that suicide is most often an impulsive act, with a period of acute risk that passes in hours, or even minutes. Contrary to what many assume, people who survive suicide attempts often go on to do well: Nine out of 10 of them do not die by suicide.

When an attempt fails, ‘these folks generally survive and go on to get past these thoughts, go on to live happy, full lives,’ said Dr. Paul Nestadt, a suicide researcher at Johns Hopkins.”

This isn’t about me or my blog, this is about the importance of vulnerability, bravery, connection, communication, compassion, and empathy through shared struggles and challenges where hope and the desire for positive outcomes CAN prevail. 

It is a long overdue time to say the hard things. Speak your truth! Bear the benefits and the consequences because somebody needs you now!

This may not be for everyone and that’s okay, otherwise if it is, shine your bright light where the darkness lives.

The Optimist Meets the Pessimist and Shines on Their Parade

There is nothing quite so troublesome as the negativity that surrounds the pessimist. Like the Peanuts character, ‘Pig-Pen’ who leaves a dark cloud of dust on every bright and shiny surface it confronts.

It must take enormous effort to spot the smallest random cloud on the perfectly beautiful sunny day or the rogue wave on the perfectly beautiful calm sea or throw a dart so high it bursts your bubble mid-flight or…

You get the idea.

100% perfection is 100% impossible so why scrutinize the most minute, irrelevant detail as if your perfect latte was not the proper temperature?

man standing with arms raised and holding boxes with problems
Photo by Ron Lach on Pexels.com

It must be such a burden to constantly carry the weight of the pessimist, lurking and waiting to trounce on the best meal, perfect date, or the most idyllic creation or experience.

There is nothing more unnerving than being shadowed by the ‘it was great, but,’ person. Any ‘but’ that follows a positive statement should be banned from the English language! No Buts about it!!

What the ‘F’ people?

Where is the light at the end of the tunnel, the glass that’s half full, the silver lining glistening brightly, the glimmer of hope we find in despair, or the tomorrow is a new day attitude?

Winston Churchill said, “The optimist sees opportunity in every difficulty and the pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity.”

a person in a tunnel
Photo by Alejandro De Roa on Pexels.com

If we face difficulty with abrupt rejection and pessimism, how does one take their next step in life? Most of life’s greatest accomplishments share a foundation rooted in difficulty, despair, challenge, and often face insurmountable odds.

Sign me up! Perseverance and resilience solely exist by virtue of all the above.

Conceiving, writing and finding a publisher for my manuscript Sailing Naked, has been one of the greatest time tested challenges of my life because of the duration from start to finish it has taken, and I’m not even there yet!

Ten years!

Imagine how many times in 10 years I could have thrown in the towel, conceded defeat, or fell on my sword.

don t quit message
Photo by Leeloo The First on Pexels.com

Pessimism is nearly exclusively detrimental to the pessimist because of the vise like grip it holds over their future potential and individual growth, an unknown we will never see or realize in them.

No doubt, those around the pessimist suffer too being pulled into the quagmire of doubt and negativity, but like the ‘paper’ smothering the ‘rock,’ optimism prevails.

Our mindsets singlehandedly determine our perspectives, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day and year by year. So much of our own mental health is conceived through the lens with which we approach the world.

Imagine if the pessimist saw the light at the end of the tunnel or the glass half full. Not only would their world shine brightly, but the dust cloud they leave in their wake would disperse. How do you see the world?

Partly sunny or mostly cloudy? Be the optimist that meets the pessimist and shines on their parade.

Procrastination – Why Not Do Today That Which Can Wait Until Tomorrow?

Maybe I’ll think about that and get back to you later.

We drive instead of walk because it’s faster. We eat fast food instead of cook because it’s easier. We laze around instead of being productive because well, we can get to that tomorrow. Procrastination is our annoying friend slumped over on the couch with the remote in her hand.

“Can you please change the channel, this show sucks?”

back view of a woman sitting on a sofa and watching television
Photo by freestocks.org on Pexels.com

Procrastination is a high hurdle to jump. Why now when we can do something later?

If that strategy magically willed away what we needed to do, then the time spent avoiding the inescapable is a viable investment of our energy. Sadly, spending time in its wake does not make one feel good about themselves.

Why waste any additional amount of time than the task takes in a big black cloud of dread that makes us feel shitty? Because well, we can get to that tomorrow.

Procrastination is conscious and deliberate.

It isn’t something we forgot to do or overlook, rather methodically and strategically avoid much to our own detriments. Often, it seems, the cumulative time spent in avoidance surpasses the amount of time the task might take.

Procrastination is a monumental waste of time in a life where time, (tick, tick, tick), is our most coveted commodity. It is a distraction, an energy suck, a mental destination where we wallow and make excuses for our lazy ass selves. The negative energy it produces can more broadly impact how we feel about ourselves even outside of the task(s) exacerbating anxiety and depression.

Imagine what 1-2 or 5 more hours a week of free time derived from accomplishment, productivity, accountability and proactivity might do to our collective spirits. Imagine the positive energy that thrives in that result.

Seize the moment, time to scale some mountains!

a person climbing up a mountain with a backpack
Photo by Maël BALLAND on Pexels.com

Are we innately procrastinators or is it a learned pattern of behavior?

I don’t know, I’ll think about that and get back to you later.

My professional life single handedly thwarted my early life of procrastination. The consequences of succumbing to its grips were so severe it melted away like ice in the desert heat never to return. The risk of losing my house or business left no room for giving in to its life sucking grip.

Now that I have more time on my hands, procrastination rears its ugly ass head on occasion. Mostly things I loathe but must do. Even my life-lesson-loving self knows better but gets stuck in the mire of the weeds and drudges through the black cloud of dread every now and then.

So why not do today that which can wait until tomorrow? Spare yourself the agony of stepping in the swamp and running from alligators. Surely there is a 7 step program geared for the chronic procrastinator.

1. Get the shit done.

2. Get the shit done.

3. Get the shit done.

    4. Embrace the win.

    5. Pat yourself on the back.

    6. Relish the positive vibes.

    7. Rinse and repeat.

    POV  – Not Everyday in the Life of a Ski Instructor

    Hands down, being a ski instructor is the most gratifying work I have done in the 45ish working years of my life. My professional life paid my bills and supported the lives of my small staff but seemed more of a means to an end.

    I enjoyed and was even fulfilled in both of my careers as an insurance broker and small biz owner. Sales is my niche, and getting people to buy from me was my strategy. It built 2 successful businesses.

    When I left Chicago and returned to Michigan, I knew if I didn’t do something regularly that got me outside in the winter, the walls surrounding me would crumble. I skied most of my life and was on the ski team in high school, so well, here I am.

    Despite freezing my ass off at times or sweating through layers of clothes on others, I FRICKIN LOVE IT! The rare frostbite on my nose (2 times), being drenched from the rain or pounded by a blizzard (too many times to count), is all in a day’s work.

    I have encountered -25 degrees Fahrenheit, cowered in 30 mph winds strong enough to blow you back up the hill and basked in the beauty of the rare winter sun.

    Northern Michigan winter weather runs the gamut.

    There are times when I am so cold, I can’t take my ski boots off, or think, or formulate words, and yet we who love what we do, endure and persevere because WE FRICKIN LOVE IT!

    I have wiped tears and green boogers and gotten adults out of their heads and onto their skis. On the busiest days, I teach 7 hours of private lessons with a short 20ish minute break for a few bites of food, a warm-up and the bathroom.

    I try not to drink too many fluids because the bathroom is an elusive warm place one can only dream about, and yet we who love what we do, endure and persevere because WE FRICKIN LOVE IT!

    Why succumb to such absurdity, you ask?

    Because the experience changed my life. I suppose if you share a similar passion for your endeavors a familiar result will occur, but I haven’t found it. Writing is close, but the gratification is delayed and sporadic.

    Mostly, I teach children, 75-80% of the time and the remaining lessons are adults fine tuning skills or embracing a new sport for the first time.

    The kids are so moldable and eager to have fun, they thrive quickly. The magic hula hoop, snow fairy’s cave, snow fairy’s dust, beads, glades, and Petoskey stones have all served me well. Powder penguins, box bunnies, turning turtles, and edging eagles find their way into the teaching fundamentals.

    I ski with my favorite littles multiple times a season for consecutive seasons. It’s so gratifying to watch them grow and improve.

    The adults range in skill and age. I am always impressed by their collective fortitude and willingness to overcome fears – heights, chairlifts, crazies straight lining down the hill, or just stepping out of their comfort zone.

    One experience left an indelible impression that I will never forget. I was so humbled; tears found their way down my cheeks.

    In February of 2021 I spent a week with 2 amazing people that exhibited such humility. Grace, we will call her, and her husband skied at Boyne Highlands (now The Highlands at Harbor Springs) for 25 years until she developed progressive dementia.

    Taught to ski by a Highlands legend, BJ who passed away suddenly 5 yrs prior, she took lessons each season and developed a lasting and enduring friendship with he and his wife, Annie.

    According to Grace’s husband, on one of her more lucid days she proclaimed the desire to ski again. They made the 10 hour drive from their home to spend a week skiing and I was the lucky chosen one.

    Grace was 73 years old and skied proficiently for the better part of her life. We spent 2 hours a day for 5 days together. Our lessons were from 11-1 (not a standard booking window) to accommodate the time her husband needed to get her ready; awake, fed and dressed for skiing took 2 hours each morning. He sacrificed his time on the slopes to ensure she could have this moment.

    We went back to square one.

    For 5 days, each time we stepped on the snow it was as if it was her first time. To load the moving carpet (conveyor belt designed for uphill transport), I took off my skis, locked my arm in hers to maintain her balance, and walked beside her while she rode, not standard protocol.

    As we made our way, she needed reassurance about how we would get to the top, how to exit, and which direction we should turn. From one ride to the next she didn’t remember.

    Her unwavering determination and commitment to persevere as well as her husband’s selfless devotion left me virtually inconsolable the first day.

    Her muscle memory, understanding of the moving carpet, ability to make a wedge, turn, or even keep her balance were all things she relearned every single time we went up and down the hill.

    It is truly the most humbling experience of my life. Her husband warned me from one day to the next, she may not return, but she did each day with the full desire to do it again.

    I am grateful to have shared that time with her and to witness the patient selflessness of her husband. It was truly remarkable. I haven’t seen them sense then, but hope Grace is ripping down the hill in her dreams.

    Humility is a powerful gift.

    Honoring Grace, next time you feel the urge to complain, inhale deeply and find gratitude. It is quite humbling.

    This is why I succumb to such absurdity. I endure the cold and persevere for everyone that crosses my path, especially people like Grace because I FRICKIN LOVE IT.

    Ski ya later allegator.

    #SkiLikeAGirl

    Suicide – It may be Closer than You Think

    This post will be as difficult to read as it has been to write but we must prevail in the name of support for those struggling with their own mental health.

    Please don’t shy away.

    I recently compiled a list so troubling that I am having difficulty sleeping.

    The recent loss of an acquaintance to suicide led me down this path. A path that ends with abrupt devastation.

    On the outside, this person seemingly had everything. She was smart, savvy, humble and worthy. She was a spouse, mother, grandmother, friend, mentor, employer, and community advocate.

    We breathed the same air. We walked in common space. We shared cheerful words. We bonded over barbells and burpees. We exchanged smiles and contact information. We looked down the same road but saw its end at a different intersection.

    Sadly, what appeared on the outside is not what lived on the inside.

    Where are the signs? How do we find them? What can we do?

    I always say, “Perception is reality.” Is it in the realm of suicide?

    When we lose someone famous, we gasp in despair while scratching our heads wondering why someone who couldn’t possibly want for anything, die at their own hand.

    Clearly, perception is not reality when the turmoil on the inside can be disguised by accolades, fame, the perfect family, the perfect career, beautiful smiles, and warm hellos. The projection of normalcy keeps us at a distance that we can’t see or perceive.

    How can we navigate the quagmire to extend a lifeline, offer support or help?

    My beautiful friend was so close and yet so far.

    She joins 6 other friends or family that I know personally who seemed to ‘have it all’ but could no longer face their internal torment. Imagine the vast magnitude of darkness, anguish and despair so broad and unmanageable that it extinguishes such brilliant lightness in all of them.

    Devastating.

    Why can’t we see such dark despair on the outside when it pervades so powerfully on the inside?

    Suicide prevention must be congruent with mental wellness and human connection. As our society continues to isolate itself in the name of absolutes, we exacerbate the turmoil and disconnect from those who feel different or troubled or wounded or lacking in some perceived way by the global masses.

    988 The Suicide and Crisis Lifeline (formerly The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline), receives over 2 million calls a year. It’s difficult for me to quantify that number. Imagine how many struggling souls don’t make that call.

    Everyone should be entitled to be free of the encumberments of judgement and angst and the perceived isolation that it generates. If we didn’t stigmatize depression or other mental crisis’s just maybe the 7 people in my life would be living and breathing today.

    It troubles me greatly when I hear others lament about suicide as thoughtless and selfish or short sighted and feeble, that they didn’t try hard enough to be happy or hopeful.

    We all need to be accountable to those around us by embracing their individuality and engaging in supportive wellness, not only for the others in our lives but for ourselves.  

    Until you walk in someone else’s shoes. Leave the judgment behind because those shoes just might end up on your door step.

    Loss survivors of suicide live in their own torment. In the cross hairs of shame, guilt, grief, sorrow, helplessness, and an insurmountable anguish. The list of questions we carry will never be answered and the abrupt loss remains with us indefinitely.

    It changed me forever. Now I see things others don’t and say things they shy from.

    I don’t have the answers, I live in the wake of the ship as it sinks to the bottom grasping for reasons why it sank in the first place. If only there was a telling sign or symbol that could indicate crisis and distress alerting those close enough to make a difference.

    I imagine compassion, courtesy, kindness, empathy, understanding, inclusion, acceptance, expression, forgiveness, vulnerability, and trust, just might be the olive branch, the extension of peace, the bridge that narrows the gap, the love and connection that heals and ultimately suffocates the demons.

    They are all cherished souls whose lives we need. Suicide may be closer than you think, we must band together to suffocate the demons.

    BeThe1To.com outlines 5 steps we can all take if we encounter someone who may be suicidal.

    You just might save a life.

    #BeThe1To Ask, Be There, Keep Them Safe, Help Them Connect, Follow Up.

    Why Shouldn’t We Persist in the Monotony of the Mundane?

    I left my first job out of college because it lacked inspiration and stimulation. Even though it provided tools enabling my future success, finding creative ways to push in my chair at the end of the day left me dizzy and bored.

    I spent my entire life proceeding that moment preparing for exactly what I had yet felt lackadaisical and full of dread. Mediocrity feeds monotony, but moving past it requires trepid steps, risk and a possibility of failure.

    Is it safer to be bored by the dull and tedious?

    Is the pie in the sky there for the taking or merely a distraction leaving us constantly grasping for something just out of reach?

    Do we persist in the mundane because we must or because we don’t see a choice?  

    Photo by Marcelo Moreira on Pexels.com

    I walked both ends of that tight rope. I thrive in routine and structure as long as it is stimulating, but wheels spinning in the same direction lack vision and creativity and leave me feeling ho hum and weary.

    Why do we continue to spin on the hamster wheel when our path’s destiny is fully within reach and at our discretion? Is it easier to stop short of the finish line and settle in ho hum-dom?

    I can only answer those questions for me, and the fear of stagnation is my motivation. Slime accumulates on still water because it’s not flowing.  If we flow, we move down stream eventually making our way to bigger waters.

    Fortunately, passing time delivers light to many things. It is the reflecting pool where hindsight and foresight come together in harmonious balance.

    If the tools from our past mold and shape our futures, then monotony is a viable contributor by shedding light on what we don’t want. I left my job and found my career solely because I knew what I didn’t want. It defined what I wanted in a clear and tangible manner and that place in time was not it.

    Unless you are a farmer, you may prefer to smell the roses rather than the cow pies in the pasture, but you only know that because you have smelled both.

    Photo by Rifqi Ramadhan on Pexels.com

    As I often say, ‘We are where we are because of where we have been. We can’t push water back up stream to make it come down differently.’ The past, present and future shape our in-trepid best selves to guide and direct our futures.

    Monotony and stimulation coexist together and can’t stand independently because you only know one feeling by virtue of its opposition. I know how to thrive exclusively because I have floundered.

    As with much of my way of thinking, time has provided clarity and the ability to reconcile my behaviors with their outcomes, narrowing the gap between what works and what doesn’t. I am humbled and grateful to grant it worthy space and attention.

    My brother likes to say, “If it were easy, everyone would be doing it.” Flounder in the monotony of the mundane so you can thrive in the exhilaration of stimulation. Do it because not everyone is!

    Happy New Year!

    Scaling Mountains… Can You do Anything You Set Your Mind to?

    In my early life, believing I could do anything I set my mind to, was akin to understanding a foreign language. No hablo ingles! Not only was I incapable of conceptualizing that, I was disconnected from the idea that my life and its future was within reach or within my control.

    As a young High Schooler, I had a strong overwhelming sense of my imminent and immediate demise. My death anxiety did not hover over me like a cloud, rather, it loomed and lingered around my excitement.

    In anticipation of life’s great accomplishments, getting my driver’s license, graduating from high school or going to college I faced a real and legitimate fear of death. I couldn’t visualize my death or the potential action which may cause it, I just knew I would die before I could relish in the pride of my accomplishment.

    Those thoughts did not have a voice but thrived in silence.

    Truly believing I could do anything I set my mind to took years to develop. It required a fervent conviction that surfaced only after seemingly endless tribulations I believed were out of my control and left me at the starting gate long after the race had begun.

    Photo by Andrey Grushnikov on Pexels.com

    There are several notable steps that reframed my perspective and changed my attitude. Unfortunately, I couldn’t see them coming when they arrived, but I undoubtedly found them after they left thanks to my lifelong friend Hindsight.

    Surprisingly negligible and simple, I slowly started accomplishing things I feared I couldn’t and began collecting small successes. This pattern of accomplishment enabled room for confidence and pride while illuminating what I did to get there.

    The small successes showed me what confidence felt and looked like in a time in my life when I didn’t even know what it was.

    It’s impossible to teach someone how to be confident and proud, they are both innately inherent components of the process of success and accomplishment. Feelings, outcomes and results. We do because we are.

    That’s why we feel shitty when we fail. It sucks! Even if failing eventually enables success, the feeling in the moment is deflating and defeating.

    Fortunately, despite my self-imposed angst, I eventually started to believe in myself. The shift in mindset highlighted the connection between positive efforts and actions with positive results and outcomes and laid the foundation for future accomplishments.

    It single handedly extinguished my premature and unwarranted fear of dying.

    Again and again and again in my life, this pattern of thought has delivered everything I set my mind to. I knew if I didn’t quit or give up, I would get there. Forward, backward, up, down, straight or winding, it didn’t matter.

    With persistence the result was delivered as ordered.

    The power of believing I can do anything I set my mind to created the limitless belief exemplified by the resilience and perseverance my Hungarian grandparents so humbly illustrated. They had so much more on the line than I ever have or will ever dream to have. I won’t let them down.

    Every day I strive to reach higher than I did the day before even if what I want is beyond my grasp. If I don’t, how can I do better tomorrow than I did today? Believing I can do anything I set my mind to supports endless possibilities and endless outcomes.

    There is no other way to live.

    0 to 60 in 1,893,415,558 Seconds

    If that was the measured duration of time it takes for a car to reach a top speed, your vehicle would be an obsolete pile of rusted dust sitting in a junk yard.

    Fortunately, with all the ‘Cares,’ carelessly, carefreely and carefully covered, I’ve managed to avoid rusting in a junk yard.

    In 60 years, there are nearly 2 billion seconds, 31,556,926 minutes, 525,960 hours, and 21,915 days for which to have cared.

    That’s a lot of frickin time.

    Generally, birthdays have never really been a big thing for me. I don’t like being the center of attention.

    Ironic, isn’t it?

    As I lap the sun for the 60th time it seems surreal to reflect on the years of passed time. I have often said to my friends with kids, their children are the barometer of their own age since they can see and feel their age through their kids’ age.

    Kid-less, my life feels like, Holy shit, how did I get here so fast?

    Let’s see, shall we?

    Random facts in 6 decades of life:

    I’ve lived in 3 countries, 14 different cities with 20 addresses, 7 were in Chicago. 

    I attended 10 different schools – K through College, 7 preceded high school.

    I spent 2 years as a 3rd grader.

    I took 40 credit hours my senior year of college to avoid being a 5th year senior.

    I’ve had 13 jobs and 2 careers.

    I’ve loved 7 dogs, 2 parakeets and a bowl full of gold fish.

    After driving the infamous ‘Blaze’ in high school, I’ve owned 4 Chevy Blazers.

    A handful of acquired wisdoms:

    Touching a hot stove never felt so good.

    Living with regret is a monumental waste of time.

    Being mean hurts you more than who you are trying to hurt.

    Bullies suck!

    Mistakes are the seeds of life lessons.

    Embracing death as a constant companion gives you life.

    Friends are my backbone.

    Believing I can accomplish anything I set my mind to.

    Being accountable delivers freedom.

    Being vulnerable enables trust and compassion.

    Balancing the ebb and flow delivers sanity.

    A handful of things I didn’t see coming:

    The urge to pee every time I pull in the garage.

    Knowing the location of bathrooms in every place I shop.

    Hearing my mother’s tone and pitch in my voice.

    Getting married.

    Not giving a shit.

    Loving asparagus.

    Wrinkles.

    The dreaded colonoscopy.

    Blood pressure medication.

    Plucking rouge hairs from my chin.

    Plucking rouge hairs from my nose that seem to be growing to my chin.

    Not feeling the need to bathe every day.

    Feeling relaxed and slightly more patient.

    Being publicly vulnerable.

    Doing a cartwheel on the beach on my birthday!

    Writing this blog!

    In the nearly 2 billion seconds that I’ve breathed air on this plant, I am grateful to all who have shared in my 60 laps around the sun. I am where I am because of where I’ve been and with whom I have been there. All in!

    Every second has influenced and guided me to this precise place. Foibles and all, this path was the intended journey.

    Time to lay more bricks. Ready or not, here I come.

    Obituary: RIP Literally. Gone and Hopefully Forgotten

    Literally, passed away peacefully on December 3, 2023 as a welcomed and long overdue gift to its number one critic. An adverb born to the English language from its literal origin, Literally regarded itself as an emphasis to facts in intelligent conversation.

    Photo by Charles Parker on Pexels.com

    Before arriving in great excess in daily conversations as a filler word, Literally struggled for years working its way into the minds of the masses as slang in the English language lurking around every corner of conversation patiently waiting to trounce on a perfect and proper figurative sentence.

    After diligent and focused work, Literally made a name for itself literally everywhere from random conversations with friends and family to life on the big screen in news broadcasts, TV shows and blockbuster movies.

    Best known for standing out in crowd in both figurative and factual statements, Literally shared the stage while stealing the limelight from the likes of Actually and Totally. Literally, left an indelible mark on our language. It was one hell of a life lived.

    Literally expressed gratitude to Actually and Totally, thanking them for assisting in their contribution to the English language and carving out a viable place for Literally to steel the stage.

    Before Literally fell ill, it was seen signing autographs literally everywhere.

    Photo by Willian Justen de Vasconcellos on Pexels.com

    Whispered quietly in the waning moments of life, Literally expressed thanks to literally everyone for bringing such bright and vibrant life into being, and appreciated the mention in every sentence to which it was ever referred.

    Literally is grateful for its legacy, the hashtags, mentions, and chronic misuse.

    Literally apologized for the undue duress it may have caused the literal thinker and hoped we can resume normal conversation and spare the literal thinker the constant reminder of their literalness.

    Literally, was surrounded by those regaling in its peaceful passing, Actually and Totally, among them. They shared equal dread for the contribution Literally made to the demise of proper, common conversation while grateful to welcome the future with hope for a day free from Literally imposing itself everywhere.

    Literally, is survived by its siblings Actually and Totally, cousins Um, and Like, as well as its equally annoying step brother, Right?, formally known as Right.

    At the request of Literally, in lieu of donations or flowers, an indefinite moratorium will be imposed effective in the new year for literally everyone.

    RIP Literally.