Category: Deliberations

we are all Creatures of HAbit ambliNG through lifE with fervor

When change is afoot, I move slowly with intensity cross checking all the angles, anticipating the bumps or sharp curves while trying to solve problems that haven’t occurred.

I connect dots. All the bases are covered.

If I overlook something detrimental, I press on and figure it out as I go. Unfortunately, not all change can be methodically planned or even in our control. It lands at our feet and it’s either get on board or stay behind at the dock.

The ship leaves now!

blue boat on gray wooden dock
Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com

Routine is critical to supporting our best selves because that is how we improve and perfect. Convenience abounds and change is a growing brick wall that gets harder and harder to scale. We decide something can’t be done long before embracing the effort because change is difficult.

I have hit the brick wall at full speed in my life to ultimately embrace the needed change, more often, much to my advantage.

Why do we bump up against change with such obstinance? Will the world crumble right under our feet if we deviate one iota from our conditioned and patterned life?

computer graphics wallpaper
Photo by Scott Webb on Pexels.com

Patterns and habits are the comfiest of blankets even when they don’t keep us warm anymore. As we cling to the very last thread, kicking, screaming and complaining our way to Change declaring it is ‘so outrageous, it could never work.’

David Bowe, Ziggy Marley, Michael Jackson, and Taylor Swift sing about change. We employ change agents, life coaches, and other positive influences. They abound evoking change and yet settling in our comfort zones seems the preferred pattern.

Is it the unknown? The fear of failure? The fear of deviation?

All of the above.

In business, Change = Innovation and change agents work to indoctrinate and implement change to the masses. A quick google search defines the characteristics of a change agent as, a lifelong learner, flexible, trustworthy, organized, excited by new ideas or opportunities, creative, courageous, experienced. They are good collaborators and mediators.

They get shit done and herd us where we need to go.

How do we become our own change agents to streamline and facilitate our best directions? Not everyone has bold ambition, or they might be quite comfortable right where they are, and rightly so.

There is a time in life to coast and a time in life to scale.

When I decided it was time to leave Chicago the only thing I knew for certain was I didn’t want to live in the city anymore. I moved there on a whim with my 2 best friends from college, blinked my eyes a few times and found 27 years had passed.

An odd series of seemingly unrelated events occurred, the sale of my business, a new relationship, and the sudden death of my sister-in-law’s father.

His funeral took me home to Northern Michigan to say good-bye and spend some time with my family. After my week home, I solidified a direction I hadn’t anticipated taking and decided to trade city chaos and over stimulation for a comparably reclusive life filled with peace and quiet.

Five months after my trip home, my house was sold along with most of its contents, and well 10 years later here I sit, happy as a clam burrowed in the sand.

We are all Creatures of HAbit ambliNG through lifE with fervor.

 A few words from the wise.

“Turn and face the strange…” – David Bowe

“We all want our dreams to be real…” – Ziggy Marley

“I’m starting with the man in the mirror…” – Michael Jackson

“These walls that they put up to hold us back fell down…” – Taylor Swift

RIP Sam S. Affendikis – February 6, 1928 – May 27, 2013

Thanks for the nudge.

One Small yet Enormous Problem

May 7, 2024 was a big day for my community with a $15M bond proposal at stake for the local school district, Inland Lakes Schools. In 2022 a similar bond was proposed and failed so the outcome was critical.

In the weeks and days leading up to the vote I read strong opinions on both sides of this proposal; why a leaking roof, inefficient heating or the puddle-pond in the school’s parking lot that attracted the local ducks was a critical issue or not.

Among other concerns, the basis for ‘not’, centered around continued tax payments on an expiring debt as well as standardized test scores that fell below the average for our area.

Picture of Harbor Springs High School by Dianne Johnston

I am a proud 1982 graduate of HSHS – Harbor Springs High School in Harbor Springs, MI. I started in this school system my freshman year. By then, HSHS was the 7th school I attended in my short 14 years of life.

I was an average student but excelled in geography and math. I started kindergarten as a 4 year old and by 3rd grade was held back so I could emotionally and intellectually catch up with my peers.

One of my third grade school pictures

It was pure misery returning to the same school as a 2-time 3rd grader while I watched my classmates move on to 4th grade.

Despite that, I thrived in high school. I spent my young life active and athletic, shooting hoops in the driveway and playing catch in the yard but had never played an organized team sport. My mother encouraged me to try out for everything and I did.

I made the basketball team, ski team and started as a freshman on the varsity softball team playing left field and catcher.

I had a wicked arm.

By my junior year, my coaches and mentors, Nancy Paige, Gary Bob Morse, Bill Shepler Sr., Bill Grant, and Mike Davies voted me the Female All School Athlete. An award I received again my senior year. Their collective impact far exceeds our brief time together.

I was on top of the world and never prouder.

The safe, disciplined and regimented environment rolled into my academic life, and I THRIVED. I loved school and my grades reflected that.

There was one small yet enormous problem. The No. 2 pencil.

The No. 2 pencil meant a standardized test and I was a horrible test taker.

The distractions that put me through 3rd grade twice found their way to the tip of the pencil. When I heard the words ‘be sure to bring a No. 2 pencil to class tomorrow’ I panicked.

The dots melded together on the page, and I always floundered.

When it was time for the ACT college entrance exam, my pathway to higher education, the No.2 pencil single handedly knocked my feet out from under me.

Not only did we need to bring a No. 2 pencil, we needed TWO because they didn’t want us to get up from our seats to sharpen one if the led broke. The smarty pants in my class brought a pencil folder full of them.

UGH!

When the proctor announced there was only 30 minutes left of test time, I still had over a third of my test to finish. In a move of desperation, I began randomly filling in dots. Dot after dot so I could submit a completed test hoping a guessed answer was better than none.

As you might suspect, my score was pitiful and ultimately an encumberment that got in the way of my college selection. The score alone cost me admission to the state universities who denied my applications, even with a letter of recommendation from my coaches.

My Senior Picture

Fortunately, with a creative and supportive guidance counselor, Mr. Charles Dickinson in my corner, my 7th semester grades and my high school GPA got me over the hurdle. We found a small college where I successfully enrolled.

I fully understand the broader purpose of standardized tests, but they overlook people like me. If bond proposals are to be considered for schools, they are detrimental beyond the scope of such tests.

If schools can’t grow and innovate with the times, we risk stifling the potential and the future of our youth by attracting more ducks to the pond in the parking lot. I am where I am today with and through the struggles and successes of all my school years, including 2 as a 3rd grader.

High school was the last time I said, “I can’t.”

It was the place where I learned discipline and commitment.

Despite the No. 2 pencil, it enabled me to begin to believe I could do anything I set my mind to.

If not for those formidable foundational roots and the teachers, coaches and mentors that guided me, my life and its successes would not be what they are today or have been in my past.

My current ‘senior’ picture

Next time you are confronted with a bond proposal for your local schools, don’t let the No. 2 pencil get in your way of supporting it. Think of all the students like me that will benefit and thrive.

The ILS 2024 Bond Proposal passed.

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.

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.

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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.

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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.