Blog Posts

on the train

I have not been training as hard this summer as last summer… and it took a while, but I’m fine with it. This summer I worked on my car, painted a couple rooms in my house, and took on various construction projects at home… not to mention a new job and a few gigs… songwriting… some family things… and yes, even some training.

Completing a good number of things things I’ve done have brought about a sense of accomplishment, but that sense of accomplishment is fleeting. I recently heard an interview with Light Watkins wherein he states that the level of happiness you are feeling right now is the same level you will feel after completing a task – and it resonated with me very clearly because I know exactly what that means. To tackle a problem is great – but another problem will soon obstruct you, and the only way you can truly increase your happiness is to pursue your purpose.

So yes, it was a great summer, but I am back on the training train – and if I’m completely honest, part of why I am okay with not training so hard through the summer is because I am back to it now, to the degree that brings me the most joy.

That’s not to say that training is my purpose, but training does bring about an alignment of values – of heart, soul, and mind – and conditions me to be at my best physical shape when I am realizing my purpose. My actual purpose is one of service in the arts, but if I am polluted and out of shape, I will inevitably short-change the recipients of that service, be it at my day job or in my songwriting and performance career.

All in all, It feels so good to have reclaimed my routine of endurance, even if it has cost me part of my evening routine by way of an early bedtime… sorta. (it will once the lack of sleep catches up with me).

I have a full life, with great hobbies and great people in my life – but if I am not at my best, then I cannot give my best, and nobody wants the fractional version of me.

establishment

“Over 100 years ago, someone astutely said “Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.” That quote has been attributed to a great number of people throughout modern history and although some of them likely said it, they likely heard it elsewhere first.”

Over 100 years ago, someone astutely said “Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.” That quote has been attributed to a great number of people throughout modern history and although some of them likely said it, they likely heard it elsewhere first. It’s also been said that “Opportunity is often delivered in a fog of uncertainty” and while nobody seems to know where that came from either, both are true more often than not.

These days, as members of my inner circle try to build back trust through willpower and integrity, it’s not lost on me that if it’s trust they’re after, then it’s trust that must be issued.

When I was young & stupid, I attempted to hide a report card or two in an effort to delay the wrath of my parents. The result was poor, and I was ultimately told that I could no longer be trusted to do something as menial as take the trash out, let alone babysit a sibling or go to a movie – because who’s to say whether or not I was actually doing those things? I had broken a parent’s trust and when I inquired as to how I might repair the damage, I was told: “that’s up to you.”

I resented it then and I think it’s utter bullshit now.

I now find myself on the other side of that conversation with someone, I am compelled to furnish them with the opportunity to do better. We’ll start small, or course, but I’m past the point of feeling the need to punish this person and well into the territory of “loosening the leash” as it were. Without the opportunity to prove trust, how can more trust be gained?

As far as I can see, it can’t.

I fully understand that if I were to break the trust of my employer, I would be dismissed and replaced. That’s the real world, hard lessons that adults have to learn sometimes – except I am not this person’s employer. I want to see this person succeed and be a gracious human, and if I cannot be one, I can not expect anyone else to be one either.

Once that’s acknowledged, then a standard must be set, and it must be set by me, and I must be the example. Without the opportunity for redemption, there’s no purpose in carrying on… that’s why we check in on our people…

… even the ones who hurt us.

the gears

I’m at a point where someone who had my trust lost it, and wants it back. It’s a truly strange time of life, because typically when these things happen there are a lot of feelings involved, and a reluctance to want to put yourself in the line of fire a second time – but at this time in my life, and in my unique relationship with this person, I want to enthusiastically give that trust back.

There are a few reasons that this is different, but the primary reason I want to give the trust back is: service.

I’m in a position of leadership, and contrary to what most people think when they think of leadership, leading is a service and I want this person to know that holding back trust serves no one. I want to give them that and I want them to give it in the future, because when someone wrongs you or breaks your trust and is truly remorseful over it, that remorse is a greater teacher than I can ever be. There’s no need to “give ’em the gears” when they’ve given themselves the gears, it is not help for them, and it certainly does me no good to put someone through the rigors of gaining my satisfaction in their pain.

Forgiveness and sorrow are not what I thought they were. When I am sorry, it is because I have sorrow – and when I forgive, it’s not because I am satisfied with the level of atonement someone else has reached – I forgive so that the person asking forgiveness can let themselves off the hook for what they’ve done. I am telling them they can stop punishing themselves.

Now, I did not conclude this overnight.

These things do take time, and I’ll never say they don’t – but I will say that they shouldn’t take longer than necessary. We can too easily use guilt as leverage for control over one another, which becomes nefarious overtime. The last thing I want to be in anyone’s life is the villain, so I strive to be a positive entity – One who serves the situation and the person.

So when they are truly ready, I must also be ready.

diagnostics

I’m familiar with the concept of digging deep. Chances are pretty solid that if you read this blog semi-regularly that you are, too. We’re all just trying to do a little better, aren’t we?

That’s why whether I’m sourcing a peculiar noise coming from my ’62 fairlane or I’m trying to assess why I can’t run as far today as I could last week, I know that a certain amount of deconstruction is required – in some cases, the literal taking-apart of a machine in order to assess the internal issue, and often repair some damage before careful reassembly is done so that you can find out if your hunch was right or not, totally risking the fact that you might have to do it again in the event you were wrong (because after all, being wrong is part of learning).

I have 100% been there and I will 100% return there at some point, but I am also certain that I will be a better person for it. If I can’t come away from the situation without some nugget of knowledge to share, or compassion to extend to someone else who’s also struggling, then opportunity was lost in the process.

We’re not talking about cars anymore, are we?

Sure we are – but that logic extends beyond 60-year old steel. Beyond skin & bones & calories & deficits, and into our connection to each other as human beings. Sure, I’ll gravitate towards like-minded people with similar hobbies to myself but I’m not always sure I have any real influence on them. I’ll wonder if I am honestly enriching the lives of the people close to me, or do I have a better effect on people who don’t know me, and aren’t aware of my laundry list of flaws?

Sometimes this is referred to as ‘hometown prophet syndrome’ and I experience it as a musician constantly. I’ll always love playing shows on tour more than in my hometown, because my hometown has seen me at my busiest, most distracted, worst, drunkest, and most debaucherously defunct, whereas a few hours down the road, they know me as someone who’s always been good, always been present, and has never had a conflicting engagement keeping me away. I imagine that it’s for the same reason that my own kid will never really think I’m cool… that’s not my role.

I have no resolve for that, it’s more a steam of consciousness flowing out of my fingers as I sit here. I didn’t really even intend for this post to go in that direction – but I will continue to peel back the layers, and try to do better, and be better.

I suppose it doesn’t matter who I can help, as long as I can help.

the return spring

I recently replaced; among other things, the clutch in my 1962 Ford. It’s a very cool vehicle that’s endured a lot of misuse and abuse at the hands of it’s masters over the years – so this car & I have a lot in common. I love this car – I’m emotionally invested in it and after 13 years, I oughta be. vehicles of this vintage were intended to be worked on and I intend to work on this one, and although there’s really only one way to do most things on cars like this, there’s still a pretty generous margin for error and I’ve certainly spent some time there.

Replacing the clutch (…again) can be a big job. If you’re looking at your clutch, there’s a strong likelihood that you did a lot of work to get to a point where you could see it. I’ve seen mine a few times and it always involves multiple cuss words to access it.

The reason I was looking at it this time is because I killed my throw-out bearing. If you don’t know what that is, it’s what disengages the transmission from the engine temporarily so you can shift gears, and it does that every time you step on the clutch pedal. If there’s too much tension on it, it will keep pressing; albeit lightly, and cause undue wear & tear on the clutch components – those components we just did a lot of work to access. That said, if there’s not enough tension on ‘the return spring‘ that is responsible for re-engaging the transmission to the motor, then the throw-out bearing will; again, continue to press up against things it ought not be pressing up against – causing that very same kind of undue wear & tear.

Needless to say, my clutch had been out of adjustment for a long time, and the components burnt out. This is interesting to me as I do a lot of self analysis when I’m working on my car – my time in the garage is a reflective and contemplative time for me, and when I realized that things were set up to fail NOT because there was too much tension on a mechanism, but because there was not enough, I had a eureka moment in more than one way.

Yes, I solved the problem – or part of it, anyway. The rest was done through some routine adjustments that are akin to completing the job. A eureka moment, to be sure.

But the idea that a system was unsuccessful due to a lack of tension struck me as very interesting in a metaphor for life. We actually see this al the time – we know people who have said; or perhaps we’ve said it ourselves – if we don’t have a deadline, the task won’t get done. Any non-pressing task will inevitably get back-benched for time sensitive ones. We pay our bills on time because if we don’t, there’s a penalty. There are deadlines for homework assignments, grant applications, race trophies, showing up to work… quotas for tasks assigned… donation commitments… speed limits… final exams… meeting times… the list goes on and without some structure around both the ‘catching’ and the ‘releasing’ then nothing really works as intended.

We may not count these things as being particularly stressful because they come with the territory of making commitments – even fun commitments like going to a movie or meeting friends for dinner have some structure around them. It’s not until we’re over-extended, or too-tightly wound that we start failing to be able to keep up with even the most casual commitment, and our personal systems go into failure.

The lesson here is about striking balance, and setting ourselves up for success.

Everything I am doing, I am doing in order to get to my preferred destination, but if we’re not seeking balance in the meantime, we’re bound to break down before we ever arrive, and in includes an amount of tension as well as relief.

escaping reality

“I’m beginning to find some balance between escapism and reality and it’s mostly because I am both wrapped up in a busy life, and emotionally supported. “

Once upon a time I was a kid, and through a strange set of circumstances, I acquired a guitar. It cost me 8 months of flyer delivery and it saved my teenage life. In service of that, I elected to learn absolutely everything I possibly could about the instrument and I got really good at it. Still am.

This became the template. I dove in deep with various girls what would receive my attention, booze, pills, vintage automobiles, rock & roll bands, fitness, and food. Clearly not all of these things are bad things, but they’re not all good things either.

I’m beginning to find some balance between escapism and reality and it’s mostly because I am both wrapped up in a busy life, and emotionally supported. This isn’t the summer I wanted, but it seems to be the summer I needed. Through varying circumstances, I am not playing anywhere near as many shows as I’d hope to – but it seems fortunate that I am available to learn the ropes of a new job, and to navigate some changes at home, as well as contend with an injured drummer. I’ve also found the desired time to tend to my 1962 Ford Fairlane and get it up to snuff in a way it hasn’t been in a long time.

That Ford is also where I tend to escape to.

We all have our ways of coping with things and I know I am a project-based kind of person, so I’ve got no guilt around the balancing of my car and my obligations but I can almost smell my desire to just crawl under that car and stay there for days and just hide. The first indicator of that is my desire to work on it is greater than my desire to drive it, if only slightly. Don’t get me wrong, I want to drive the shit out of it (and I do!) but there is an immense sense of satisfaction that comes with taking something apart and putting it back together and making it work better by doing so.

As a father, I hope my kid gets bitten by this bug, too – if only because it’s been so helpful for me, but I have to understand and acknowledge that just because it worked well for me does not mean it will work well for everyone.

In other words, I want to have common interests with my child, but I fully understand that the work that needs to be done to maintain that is mine, not theirs.

So if this hobby stays mine, then it stays mine… but it still serves me, and helps me set myself straight so that I can serve others.

one hundred

“This is my 100th post. I never really imagined what this blog would become… “

This is my 100th post. I never really imagined what this blog would become… originally I just set out to write a little around training for a triathlon and working to be a better person… but I suppose time passes, too. I’m glad to still be writing, even though I often wonder what I should say that I haven’t said already, or how this will evolve.

I’m happy to have maintained the practice of writing this, and am happy for the other practices I’ve adopted along the way. Originally there was a video component that was a bit ambitious, and thus fizzled out after the triathlon in 2021 but I’m not opposed to reintroducing something a little more off-the-cuff at some point.

I did the things I wanted to do. Lu and I did the triathlon course, and I ran the half marathon last year. I’m moving into other fitness disciplines and working on my car. I’m not sure why I feel compelled to take an inventory of the last 2 years but if you’ve been reading along, you’ll know that I’m also a bit of a fan of the 12 step method of recovery, so here we are.

This blog has been side-line to a triathlon, a half-marathon, most of a pandemic, the writing and recording of an album, an amazing rekindling of relationship between myself and my environment AND between myself and my car, the entire life of my beautiful dog, and a couple of birthdays. Even as I write this my then-12 year old is creeping up on being a 15 year old, and my girlfriend hasn’t aged a day. In fact, her and I are both younger than we were when we started.

Who knows where this adventure will take us?

Thanks for reading along, and to the several of you who’ve weighed in – thank you especially.