Redacted. Or no comment. I hope you’re uncertain, no matter who you are.
Uncertain
Truth
Consistency
“You show up for work every single day regardless of whether you’re motivated or not. You do that because you’re a responsible adult, but when it comes to your training or nutrition, you allow your consistency to rely on your motivation. You have to get to the point where you realize your health and confidence are just as much your responsibility as something like your finances would be as well. When you finally make that mental switch, your actions will no longer be dictated by your emotions, and you’ll start making real progress.” – Chaz Spackman
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I’m 38 days into my pushup challenge. (And NINE months into my year-long eating commitment!) When I started, my right shoulder was hurting like a rejected suitor on prom night. Because I’m not too fond of the idea of ritual workouts (and gyms), I opted for pushups, even though my job robs me of most of my physicality. I do them in increments, no matter where I am and no matter who might be watching. (It’s more natural than standing there with a cellphone.) Some days, I stop counting. My friend Joe says none of them count until it hurts, anyway. I promised myself I’d do at least six weeks of this craziness. My shoulder feels much better, and I know something positive is coming from doing this, even if it’s to lose more self-consciousness. Whenever you make significant changes, you’re always going to draw scrutiny.
It’s transformational to make a goal, any goal, and just do it. I wish I’d had my epiphany twenty years ago; that time is gone. No matter who you are, surely there is some change you’d like to see in your life.
I’ve been accused by a couple of people of being suddenly vain. That’s not it at all. I’m a 54-year-old man who has acquired a renewed sense of confidence thanks to luck and a commitment to consistency. I want everyone to experience what it feels like not to recognize themselves and realize that so much of what stops us is between our ears.
Pick a goal. Walk. Run. Bike. Learn Spanish. Be kinder. Eat better. Write your story. Read more. Stop voting like an idiot (no matter which camp you vote for).
Acquire consistency in whatever it is you aspire to.
Almost all consistency is a decision.
PS No matter how successful you are or you become, remember that life is going to hit you with a hammer anyway. You can’t avoid the hammer but you can avoid wasting all the opportunities you have in front of you.
You Wow Me
As a person never short of words, I love shorthand such as “Karl,” or “Sorry about the rash.” It adds punch and mystery to language, gives rise to surprising laughter, and softens our hard edges to others.
“Wow” is a verb, without question.
Even in situations that aren’t romantic, we fall short when we can’t express admiration, encouragement, or even a bit of recognition for another person. So often, we’re afraid that it makes us vulnerable. So what? We’re already exposed and vulnerable.
In a typical day, there aren’t always moments that give rise to “You wow me.” But take a moment and imagine that someone took the time to get your attention and say these words to you.
If that isn’t a gift, not much is.
I hope that you were wowed by someone today. Or that you wowed another. As for tomorrow, look closer. You’ll see someone that might want to hear these words. Clear your throat, take a breath, and let these fluid words flow: “You wow me.”
Love, X.
With All Du(d)e Respect
With all dude respect… (I invented a better version of this phrase…)
Five Dollar Finger
This morning, I put the assorted nonsense I use during the day in my pocket. For some reason, I had a $5 bill and put that in my right pocket too. I never do that, especially since I would usually drag it out accidentally and lose it.
After eating lunch/supper, I drove back toward the house. I waited at the light on Emma and Butterfield Coach. It’s challenging to get good visibility on the left, an issue exacerbated by people pretending they’re racing in the Indy 500 as they come around the long curve. An SUV crossed the intersection doing at least 70. I waited, craning my neck to check again. Before you say anything, waiting until the light turns green IS an option. Still, it is just as likely to get you killed – and for two reasons: people have no patience waiting on someone to legally and safely turn, and a red light is often just encouragement to speed through an intersection illegally. I forgot to mention that East Springdale’s residents are less likely to have both a driver’s license and insurance at any given moment. It’s one of the many reasons I advocate that the city uses the actual roads for the annual Demolition Derby.
As it turned out, my light turned green, and I pulled out quickly. (That’s what she said. My apologies. That was a reflex TWSS there.) A couple of seconds later, I looked in my rearview mirror. A cobalt blue Hyundai was coming up behind me exceedingly fast, probably going 75 mph. As they passed, I noted that the car had five younger people in it, two of whom shoved their arms out the window, using their middle fingers to wave hello.
I concluded that I had interfered with their driving progress for zero seconds while they sped and failed to stop at a red light. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information.
The blue car, of course, caught up with a throng of traffic. A throng, whatever that is. So I followed them up Butterfield to Friendship. I turned left as they did. At this point, their guilty conscience probably convinced them I was angry about getting flipped off. I wasn’t. I was amused. They passed my normal turn into the neighborhood I live. A block further on, they turned into one of the dirt driveways on the side. The other side of the road isn’t part of Springdale city limits – and it shows. The high class you’d normally associate with Springdale diminishes considerably on that side of the road. (I apologize for the snark there, Rodeo fans.)
I stopped across from their driveway. I got out of my absurdly blue car and walked across. The driver’s eyes widened. Yes, it’s true someone could have shot me. I can think of no better way to die than by pranking someone in East Springdale unless it is to be shot by a jealous husband in bed. I handed the guy in the passenger rear seat a $5 bill and said, “Get yourself a 6-pack. And stop driving like pansies.” I laughed.
Someone inside the Hyundai said, “Dude, what the f—?” in a high-pitched voice.
I drove away, smiling like an idiot.
I like to think that this merry band of miscreants will be flipping off MORE people, expecting others to tip them for the honor.
Begin… Or End
“To get something you never had, you have to do something you’ve never done.”
The message continued: “These are not my words. But they are my mantra. You’re going to be scared. You’re going to be uncomfortable. And even when you did everything safe, you always ran the risk of total, absolute failure, losing everyone and everything you’ve ever had. Even though you already lost everything once, you allowed your mind to buffer you away from those considerations. The risk was real. You just didn’t consider it. You said, ‘Life is for the living.’ And whatever new thing you do today or tomorrow carries that same risk. Get over it. You could do everything right and still fall in a well. Now imagine that you turn back from new actions, new thoughts, and new habits because it’s safer. And you fail, playing it safe. I promise you that you will be filled with regret and self-anger. You told us to tell you when we see that you’ve forgotten this lesson. The point is that there are no guarantees, other than one day sooner than later, you will be dead. People will say whatever they’re going to say, and they’re going to write histories about you that are wildly inaccurate. But if you proceed with confidence, there is a guarantee that you’ve changed your outcome despite your fear. Whether it results in a better life or not, it roots itself in a positive decision. X, I’m counting on you to show me that it’s worth all the effort. If you fail, how can I expect to succeed?”
Well, sh!t.
I suspect that’s about the best calling-out I could imagine.
I wasn’t going to share this.
What’s the worst possible outcome, though?
Someone will read this and find something with which they identify.
Others will read it and feel uncomfortable.
I hope that discomfort focuses them to look for a purposeful life.
Love, X
Money-Making Mugshot Idea
The Washington County Sheriff wasn’t too happy with my emailed plan to save money: offer professional mugshots/headshots at the jail. It’s so stupid that I guarantee people would pay for it. Yes, I’m ‘people.’ Please, take my money for this idea.
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P.S. You know you’re in trouble when you write a joke like the one above and legitimately fear that friends and family are going to get pissed about it. I mean no disrespect. We all have our struggles and I don’t judge. Unless you were arrested for something stupid, like putting your bag of weed in the metal detector bin before getting scanned. . Love, X.
Silence Protects No One
Of my many mistakes, concern with being judged or misunderstood has been one of my worst follies.
He Who Enjoys It, Owns It
“He who enjoys it, owns it.”
Such was the case today. Mr. Taco Loco was closed, so I managed to score my high-volume dose of pico de gallo elsewhere. Given that the day was perfect, I got my food to go, and I visited one of my favorite places. Because I love y’all, I’ll share it with you. It’s hidden in plain sight, along Huntsville and Shiloh in Springdale. While it is on the property belonging to the Methodist Church I infrequently attend, no one will mind if you visit the pair of picnic tables I’ve grown accustomed to visiting. Just leave the place better than you found it, which is practical advice for so much of our lives.
When I sit under the shade tree, there are times that it feels like I’ve been covered in an opaque and silencing membrane. ‘Languid’ might be an excellent word to approximate the sensation. I’ve also sat under the tree with the wind howling and rain dotting my head. Whether the spot initially made me feel peaceful, I can’t recall – it might be that the sensation came to me later, and I’ve trained my mind to find it soothing.
One reason I love this little spot is that it is perfectly shaded for most of the day. Such was the case today. A squirrel and several birds kept me company as I spread my meal across the picnic table. Because I had an entire case of PopChips I’d bought earlier, I used the tortilla chips included with the TexMex meal to offer the animals. The breeze occasionally threatened to take away pieces of my packaging, but not so violently as to make it challenging to eat in peace. Sitting at the picnic table, you can watch the traffic speed by, even if you spend other seconds tossing the animals morsels, alternated with bites for yourself. Usually, I eat quickly. When I visit this little spot, I find myself slowing my pace. I spent forty-five minutes eating. Once the birds and squirrel finished their respective McMeals, I looked carefully at pictures of one of my friend’s lovesakes. (Lovesakes are keepsakes given in moments of unconditional love and appreciation.)
Before leaving, I spent a few minutes experimenting with my Seek app, vainly attempting to get the app to identify a strange insect that had landed on my salsa. I used a chip to remove it and place it on the table before discarding the salsa. I jokingly named the insect the “Salsapillar.”
As I got in my car and drove away, I felt the languid membrane of this little park slip away from me. The volume of the day, my tasks, and my to-dos once again echoed and billowed in my head.
If you’re in the mood to experience a little slice of Springdale a bit differently, pick up food from one of the eateries scattered nearby and bring it to this little bitty park. Enjoy the shade. And if you have a friend, bring them and discover if you both agree that, although it’s just a piece of land, it has a dusting of calming magic about it.
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 