How can a 5 year old sway the whole atmosphere of our home?

I can still remember the birth of our daughter.  It was a long awaited and anxiously, even hyper actively, anticipated day as complications had resulted in the loss of our first child.  But thankfully those complications were better-managed by the doctors and our beautiful little girl arrived, healthy and happy, on July 3rd 2012.  We watched the fireworks on the 4th from our hospital room window, finally, as a complete family.

It quite literally took me by surprise how sudden the over-protective daddy juice kicked in as I immediately felt a bond that can not be defined towards my little girl.  The only way I can attempt to put it into words is that I was immediately wrapped around her little finger and an overwhelming instinct to protect her at all cost cloaked itself on my shoulders.

As we took her home we had so many ideas, and plans, on how we were going to parent our little one and I feel like we have done a great job!  She is strong, healthy, smart, and well taken care of.  I can honestly say that I am quite proud of our daughter and the way that we have parented her.

Don’t get me wrong here, there are many, many things that I would go back and change if I could.  Also, there are so many times that my wife and I fly by the seat of our pants as we spontaneously make up rules, or move forward with a plan that didn’t have a beginning or middle, only an ending we were shooting for.

And then three years later another successful pregnancy ended with a chubby little boy.  This was so exciting because we now had one of each!  Our family really was a whole with his addition and it was so much fun to see our daughter interact with her baby brother.

How neat it would be for brother and sister to learn from each other and grow together.  Each benefiting from the other as they moved up through school and life.  Our boy would have a bit of a crush on one of his older sister’s friends.  He would learn how to deal with females and become a gentleman as a result.  She would have a brother to protect her from jerk boys that chase her in college and learn what it’s like to live with a gross boy before one puts a ring on her finger.

I love being a father more than I ever could have guessed.  But I am also surprised daily at how different it is than from what I imagined years ago.

I had such a fun experience the other day with my daughter.  It was a Sunday afternoon and we had some time to kill.  So, as parents do, I began trying to think of an activity that would be quiet, entertaining for as long as possible, and a good learning experience.  So I came up with a plan called: Stop Motion.

I remember my dad doing one of these with us as kids.  I can’t remember what the story was, or even what the end goal was.  But I remembered the basics and figured I would give it a try.

Basically what you do is come up with what you want your end result to be.  In this case I wanted to make my daughter’s toy ponies tell some sort of a story.  You then set the scene and set up your camera on a tripod where it has a good view of your scene.  It is important that you have a sturdy tripod because you need the angle to stay the same throughout that scene.

Basically you play out the scene with very small movements snapping a photo after each movement.  You need a good charge of patience and a methodical ability to foresee the end result as you move the scene forward step by step.

Once you’ve completed the scene, you then piece all of the photos taken (this could easily total up into the 100’s) and paste them together in a quick slideshow that looks like a video.  It is really fun and the end result looks as if the ponies are walking around and playing out the scene on their own.

Take a look at our video we titled Thirsty Ponies.

I was surprised at how much attention she was able to give to the story.  Of course I had to remind her a few times “small movements” but she really was attentive and patient with the process.  I really enjoyed doing it with my sweet little girl and enjoying the final product later that night.  The whole thing was just a sweet experience.

Then in the next moment the demon is let loose!!!  J5 has this look she gives you when you say something she doesn’t like.  She tilts her head down just a bit and forms her mouth and nose into a squished protest of authority.  She then looks up at you with a furrowed forehead.  The combination of her tilting her head down, furrowing her forehead, and looking up at you presents you with seeing only the whites of her eyes.  It quite literally looks like an evil demon child glaring back at you after you have asked her to simply taste the food that she immediately declared as being ‘gross’ as it was being placed before her at the table.

Let’s take the other morning as an example:  She is woken up with over an hour’s worth of time to get ready before we need to be walking out of the door.  All she has to do is: A- Get changed out of her pajamas into her school cloths, B- Eat breakfast, C- Brush her teeth, and D- Have momma do her hair.  That is a list of things that I could literally do in 15 minutes.

So the process begins: She is woken up and instructed to get changed.  Now, I have noticed how sensitive my daughter is to discomfort.  I don’t know if this is just her or a kid thing in general.  But OH MY WORD!!!  She will literally get undressed down to her undies, feel a chill, and curl up into a ball on the floor because she is cold.  She will lay there in the fetal position, probably until lunch, if she were not prompted to continue getting dressed in order to warm herself up.

And so the prompting begin, “J5 please get dressed”……..”come on, you need to hurry”……and now getting a bit more stern and with more emphasis on each word, “J5, you need to get dressed or you’re going to be late!”.  Now the response to the first and second prompt is a whiny-style moan.  The response to the prompt that was more stern becomes a, well the only way to describe it is, defiant “stop it” or “okay, I am!”.

This is typically where the demon starts to rise.  We have crossed the threshold from kindly encouraging to sternly prompting and we are headed towards threatening.  Her response has gone from ignoring to responding with the demon looks and raspy voiced responses in defiance to what we are asking her to do to…..,well, my worst fears.

This particular morning we were rapidly running out of time.  She had eaten very little breakfast and was simply laying in front of the fireplace in the fetal position.  We were pushing her to get changed into her school cloths.  We needed to drive away in less than 10 minutes and my wife and I were becoming exasperated.  I then heard words that every man has said more than once comfortably but is an absolute no-no in a woman’s world.  She said to me “I’ll just wear these cloths again”.

WHAT!?!?!  These were the same cloths she had worn the day before and to bed that night.  Now even at the age of 5 she is quite concerned about her appearance and what others think of her (that will be illustrated in a few moments).  So when she said she was willing to wear the same cloths for another day that had already been worn for the past 24 hours it blew me away.

But at this point, it’s time to get out the door.  So letter C (Brush her teeth) was up next.  She went into the bathroom and stood on the chair at the sink looking in the mirror and talking to herself and who knows who else.  So the prompting continued and the escalation continued in turn.

After me running a few more of my morning duties and tasks I walked by the open bathroom door to see my day old cloths wearing, bead-headed daughter meticulously applying lip gloss to her lips in the mirror like a super-model getting ready for a photo shoot.

I would like to interject that my wife is not a self-centered, appearance obsessed, woman.  She blows me away with her beauty and I recognize every single day that I married up.  And not just up a level or so.  We are talking about a Mercedes AMG, GT C running around with Ford Pinto wheels and tires on as a partnership.  But she does it without needing the best of the best cosmetics, clothing, or salon bills.  She is a natural beauty and while getting ready for an important event will take longer than most mornings, there isn’t an obsession with perfecting the details that are already perfect.  So this behavior is not a behavior that was observed in our home.  That’s just J5 being J5.

At this point it is past time to go.  So we are…how do I put this……: ‘encouraging her strongly’ that she needs to get her shoes on and get out the door.  Well, her hair hasn’t been done yet and her demons have turned into emotional seagulls.  You know that annoying sound a group of seagulls make way too early in the morning while you are trying to sleep in?  Well, picture that but in a crying tone.

Then she is told that there isn’t time to do her hair.  Yes, that was me, not momma…..momma probably knew better because the dam burst and J5 exploded with emotion.  The tears are flowing, the voice is breaking with laments at the top of her lungs, the nose is snotting down her upper lip.  Our nearest neighbor is a good half mile away and I bet they heard how bad of parents we were because we weren’t going to do her hair that morning and that’s with her still inside the house!

I wish I could fully explain the moods that she went through within a half hour that morning.  The emotional responses are just unreal and the deliberate defiance, disrespectful talk back, and, my biggest pet peeve, the looks!

These looks come after a time-out has been enforced and she has had an emotional come-apart and finally calmed down and you have approached her to let her out.  The demon turns and gives you this look that just makes your blood boil.  Even when you are trying to play and have fun or take a cute photograph or anything; these looks just appear and it is so aggravating!

The events of that morning and her responses completely altered the mood in our house.  You could just feel the contention thick in the air as a result of trying to get a 5-year-old ready for school.

After getting her to school that morning I came to my business, took off my jacket and hung it up along with my keys, and plopped down at my desk.  I was at a complete loss at what to do.  Being calm doesn’t keep her moving and pushing just turns her into this monster that makes you just want to pull your own hair out while yelling expletives at the tops of your lungs.

And then it hit me:  This is a five year old girl.  If she is like this now, what will 10 years from now look like????  I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.  I am not a drinker, but I was ready to run to the liquor store to buy a bottle just so I could take a double shot of Jack with my morning Dr. Pepper.

My daughter would be a teenager someday and I was terrified!  Maybe being older will help my patience, maybe my wife and I would be more learned at that point and better equipped to deal with those moments.  But what if we aren’t?  What will I do!?!

Well, I Googled this ‘fear of teenagers’ and the word is: Ephebiphobia.  It is quite literally “the fear of young people or teenagers” according to common-phobias.com.  Symptoms include: extreme anxiety, dread and anything associated with panic such as shortness of breath, rapid breathing, irregular heartbeat, sweating, excessive sweating, nausea, dry mouth, inability to articulate words or sentences, and shaking.

I haven’t experienced all of these symptoms when considering the ramifications of my daughter growing into a teen, but I have experienced anxiety and panic because my parenting skills are being stretched to their limits at the age of 5.  Wikipedia flat out states that Ephebiphobia is the “fear or loathing of teenagers.”

While I don’t fear that physical harm will come from a teenager or anything of that nature, I honestly do have a fear of the teenage years and my ability to ‘parent through them.’  My daughter is obviously built much differently than I am.  Not only because I am a male and she is a female, but simply the way we react to disappointments, struggles, discomforts, and other hurdles that confront us.  Granted, I do have 6 times the experience she does when it comes to these issues, but you can just tell there is a difference in our wiring that makes it hard for us to understand each other in certain areas.

Most of the time J5 is a great little girl.  She is kind, caring, and so much fun.  I love her with all of my heart and only for the sake of explaining my concerns am I highlighting this behavior of hers.  These behaviors are only moments during a day with our little girl.  But they do happen and it leaves us fumbling for solutions and dreading the inevitable teenage years.  We dread these years because we were teenagers once and we know that the defiance, disrespect, and emotional swings only magnify during those years.

HEAVEN HELP US!

All I know is that I will NEVER forget those feelings I experienced at her birth.  I will ALWAYS treasure the wonderful memories we have made and will still make together.  I will CONTINUE to love her every day, no matter what that day brings.  And I have HOPE that all these things combined will help guide us through those rocky times of the teenage years until we can reach the safe shore of post-teen with a sound and solid relationship in tact.

I’m sitting at the delivery end of my press.  I’ve just finished off six strawberry cream cheese strudel bites and downed about 1/3 of a half gallon of milk drunken straight from the carton.  But that’s okay, because even though a single ‘bite’ takes more like three bites to consume, the fact that they call them ‘bites’ makes me feel like I had six bites versus the actual 18 it took before my mind pulled the hand brake and cut me off.

It’s 10:25pm currently, and that has placed me at work for about 14 and a half hours.  If I guess conservatively, I would estimate that I have about 2 more hours to go before I have completed what I needed to today.

Notice that I used the term ‘needed’.  I didn’t say should, or could, and I didn’t say want or required.  Yet all of these terms contribute to this need.

I’ve been hit with a rush of end of the year jobs where business and departments are trying to use up a budget or want to get stocked for the new year.  Along with these jobs we’ve had a few clients who have simply procrastinated placing their order over and over again and now they have pulled the very last one from the box and have called out of desperation needing us to expedite the production of their particular item.

And finally, our largest client has sent three rush orders, on top of the rush order that was placed two days ago, which was on top of the standard order that was placed last week, that was on top of the two standard orders placed at the beginning of that week.

With Monday being eaten up by taking care of part of the tasks of a sick employee and working with a technician to solve the issues of one of our main machines until after 9pm.  Then Tuesday being eaten up with many, many interruptions, a birthday party,  working out a new inventory system and a few quotes that needed to be worked up and submitted; I find myself being ridden by the need to clear out this work at all cost.

It’s work that should be done, that could be done if I focused on it, I want to do it to satisfy our customers, and I am required to do it because of the commitment I have made to my customers and the need to keep them happy in order to stay in business.  So, just like the cowboy who doesn’t work from 9-5 but gets up early and works until the work is done no matter what that time ends up being, here I am taking care of what I need to get done today in order to keep things moving forward tomorrow.

So I sit here at this table, my headphones in my ears as I listen to some Imagine Dragons on Pandora, and the sounds of the press tick-thumping (I don’t know how else to describe the sound other than a tick and then an overlapping thump…..a tick-thump) behind me in a steady, rhythmic, march.

I check the clock again.  It’s now 10:49pm.

I was once asked: “What would be the first thing you would do in the morning if you didn’t have to go to work anymore?”  Well, that really took me back.  The obvious answer was that I would still have to go pee no matter what I was planning to do that day.  That’s just the first thing that has to be taken care of!  But obviously the question was intended to be deeper than that.

As I really paused and tried to ponder on that question and allowed my mind to consider what the options could be had work not been a requirement any longer, I suddenly felt a stampede of possibilities come crashing in.  I immediately felt a jolt of energy as my mind raced like a giddy little boy.  And that’s the truth of the whole scenario!  You take away some of those required tasks of adulthood and you are a kid again!

You see, its time.  Have you ever sat back and considered what the reality of time has done to us?  I mean really think about it.  In our adult lives we eat up time like its chili cheese fries being handed to us after living off of bananas and coconuts on a deserted island for the last three years.  And the worst part about it is that it literally seems like it keeps gaining speed with the passing of each year!

We have careers and families, deadlines and dance classes.  We have honey-do’s and civic duties.  Lifestyles to maintain and ladders to climb.  And heaven forbid we happen to get sick or some unexpected life event interrupts our day to day time matrix and throws off the balance of the universe!

11:14pm

Now before your head explodes and you start to dial your therapist, just take a deep breath and close your eyes.  I want you to imagine you.  But instead of the slave to time that you are currently, I want you to hop in your Delorean and travel back to the age of about 7.

Yes we had school and dance (not for me of course, I was never involved in froofy stuff like that………) but it was somehow different.  It was as if the days were just running into each other rather than any formal beginning or end.

Here’s an example; back then if I got tired, BOOM!, I’m asleep.  And I stay asleep until my mom comes and rolls me off of my Hot Wheels covered floor for dinner.  After dinner it’s play time and then somehow the magical ferries of dream land all work together and I go to bed at 9 and sleep very, very soundly until I’m awoken again at 7 the next morning.

I mean Sunday wasn’t ever really a day was it?  It was more like an event that happened between Saturday night and Monday morning.  Why?  Because I’d get up and we’d all go to church as a family.  Then I’d come home and have dinner and go to bed.  Then somewhere around 5 or 6pm I’d get woken up for dinner, but I guess this was more of a second dinner because I already eaten earlier before I went to bed-first dinner……and then after second dinner it’s back to bed and then it’s Monday.

And the best part about the whole thing was:

A.  I didn’t care that I just slept all weekend!  I wasn’t missing out on anything and anything that I didn’t do over the weekend I could just do during the week or next weekend.  No big deal!

B. I could sleep all day and turn around and sleep soundly all night too!

Now contrast that with adulting; It’s Sunday and I’ve come home from church and I am feeling good and tired.  I deliberately sit in my chair, reclined back with my feet up, and I allow myself to doze….but that’s it!!!  Why?  Because if I actually sleep that would be a huge waste of time.  This is MY time.  I don’t want to waste it sleeping.  I should do something, anything!  Because I’m here and I don’t have to do anything so I should do something!

The other sad, sad truth is that if I do sleep comfortable for longer than 1/2 hour that somehow gives me rest overload and instead of not being able to sleep for the first 1/2 hour of the night to make up for that nap it somehow multiplies into 5 hours and I toss and turn until 3am Monday morning.

The other issue I run into is ‘Project Completion Anxiety’.  This is defined as an anxiety that motivates you forcefully to complete the project you have started NOW because if you don’t who knows when you will be able to finish and if anything goes wrong alarms will sound, tools will fly, and you will commence screaming at the top of your lungs in a 3-year-old stomping temper tantrum that will be seen, and heard, by all of your neighbors.  Oh, and by the way, there is pretty much the guarantee that something will go wrong because you having so much anxiety over the completion in the designated amount of time that you are rushing every aspect of the project.

It is now 11:37pm

One of the things that I would call my hobby is working on my 4×4 toys.  I had actually decided that I was going to go to a tech school to be an automotive mechanic before I met my wife and headed down the path of owning this print shop.  But that’s a story for another time.

I really enjoy working on things mechanical like that.  There is a lot of satisfaction to doing it yourself and mending something that was broken.  I also like to do it because I learn the vehicle better and understand better how all the components work together.  This is especially advantageous if you run into a break-down out in the middle of nowhere.  Part of the love that I have for ‘the drive’ and the vehicle that I partner with is the work and effort I have put into that vehicle.

Recently I started hearing a consistent ‘ticking’ noise coming from Sami’s (my Suzuki Samurai) transfer case.  After trying to diagnose it several different ways I finally decided that I would have to pull the transfer case apart and actually look inside to see what the issue was.

As I realized this was my only option that ‘Project Completion Anxiety’ began to build within me.  I knew that once I found the time to pull Sami into the shop and start that I wouldn’t be able to do it all in one shot.  Because I would have to open it up, find the broken part, order that part, wait for it to arrive, and then I would have to wait until I had another slot of time open in order to put it all back together and who knows when that would be!!!  Meanwhile, Sami would be sitting in the shop, taking up space where I work to do other projects, lifeless and unusable.  So if I happened to have an evening that I could just take off and go for a ride for some ME TIME…..I wouldn’t be able to do that.

But all I could do is bite the bullet and get to work.  Because if I didn’t resolve the problem it could strand me completely or it could cause more damage than was already done.  So I dropped it out, opened it up, and found the broken piece.  The part was ordered, shipped, and arrive a couple of weeks later.

The evening soon arrived that was an open time slot where I could piece the transfer case back together, re-install it under Sami, and be up and running again.  And that’s when it all started again; ‘but what if something goes wrong and I can’t finish it tonight’.  Or ‘what if I don’t do it right and not only waste this evening but also another evening having to re-do it again’.

Well I got to work piecing it back together and just as I was almost finished I realized something was wrong.  I would check the gears to make sure they were all meshing together and spinning freely, then I would do the final tighten of the case and check them again and this time they would be frozen stiff.  So I would loosen the case and then they would spin freely.

I kid you not when I say that I took that thing apart and re-assembled it three times, each time running into the same perplexing problem and each time with rage building more and more inside!  I WAS RUNNING OUT OF TIME!!!!!!

Finally on the fourth try I realized that a shim was just thick enough that the final turn of the case bolts put just enough pressure on that shaft to stop the gears from spinning freely.  A simple fix and the case was together and spinning like it should.  It was then bolted into it’s new cradle, lifted up into Sami’s belly, and all bolted back together.  An attentive test-drive confirmed that I had done the job right.  It may not have been pretty or timely but it was done and functioning like it should.

I remember relaying the frustrating story to my wife, how each time I pulled the case apart in an attempt to figure out what the issue was my blood pressure would rise more and more because the nagging aspect of time was constantly there taunting me by saying ‘this is your only chance, if you don’t do it now who knows when your next chance will be’.  I told her that it took all of the fun out of the process.  Instead of me enjoying my hobby, it had become a burden.

This type of thing happens too often to me.  I find time controlling my thoughts and even worse than that; my emotions.  It is such a large part of our every day lives.  It’s like one of those glass half full or half empty things except for me all I see is the glass filling up and overflowing and making a huge mess that is just another thing that eats time out of my day as I clean it up.

Well……I guess it’s officially Thursday now. 12:10am

So back to the question: What would be the first thing you did in the morning if you didn’t have to go to work anymore?  My answer: I would just take my time getting ready at a leisurely pace and deciding what to do that day.

Just typing those letters feels so calming and gratifying.  Even when I do ‘sit back and smell the roses’ it’s really just an act because somewhere in my thoughts the responsibilities, restrictions, and requirements of my adult life still echo back and forth to each other.  Time is still there.

So what do we do?  Welp, I have no clue.  That’s why I am writing this post.  I want to hear what your ideas are.  What do you do to battle this thing called time.  How do you revert back to your childhood in an attempt to lower your blood pressure and enjoy a solid nap on the floor?  What is your antidote to the ever present pressure of time weighing on every decision you make and every activity you participate in?

Well, I guess that’s it.  I’ve finished the run that I needed to, cleaned up, shut down the press, and I’m ready to head for home.  Tomorrow, or should I say today, is A New Day.

I’ve mentioned before growing up following the footprints of a father who was a professional photographer.  His passion and preferred focus was outdoors and wildlife.  I never really appreciated how he mastered his profession until I reached my adult years.

Following him all over the hills as a boy was an experience that every young boy needs to have.  I was taught respect for the outdoors and nature, developed a sense of natural direction, had to force myself to keep trudging along on long, hot, sandy hikes, and was rewarded with ice cold grape Gatorade gulped out of a stainless steal camp cup.

I learned how to climb rocks and entertain myself, how to appreciate the simple things, I learned determination and patience.  I learned how to set up a tent being sure to clear all the rocks and sticks from underneath for the best nights rest.  I learned that you need to check your shoes in the middle of the night before slipping your bare feet into them so you can scamper into the darkness to water a tree.

I learned that my dad loved me, and that I was important to him.  That even though we were out there for the purpose of photography, something that was a large part of his life, the adventure we were sharing was the most valuable part.

Another thing that I learned on these adventures was that he would always plan to catch the sunset.  Whether we camped right out on the point, or near it, we would be at a certain spot, at a certain time.  He would stretch out the legs on his tripod and ready his camera and then we would wait.  I learned to really enjoy the quiet solitude of just being as the sun would inch towards the horizon.

My dad would stand with his hands in his pockets, thumbs sticking out, checking the view finder once in a while.  Then as the sun finally kissed the horizon the sound of the shutter slapping back and forth began.  This would continue until the light of the day was all but gone.

We would then head back to camp and cook up some new york steaks and potato wedges, smothered in butter, packed into the same frying pan over an old Colman cook stove.  To this day, some of the best meals I have ever had.  Also, some of the best memories I have.

My dad moved on from this life nearly two years ago.  But these memories, lessons learned, and simple joys live on in my life, and in the lives of my siblings as well.  He left a legacy that he can be proud of and it is being taught to grandchildren now.

What I didn’t learn from my dad was photography, funny enough.  I never learned what f-stops were or about shutter speeds.  I didn’t learn how to manual focus,or what lens to use in what scenario.  My little sister and I were actually chatting about this the other day as we stood in his old photo shop and reminisced about him.  We remembered that he never really urged us to learn, but at the same time had we shown an interest, he would have been so willing to share.  I, personally, translate this as his unselfish nature.  It was never about him and he simply wanted us to succeed in whatever avenue we chose.

But what I am discovering is that spending all of that time with him did train my eye to recognize a pleasing scene and the deep love and appreciation for the outdoors has developed a desire to try and capture that simple beauty and wonder with some sort of likeness to what I behold with my eye.

With that ember smoldering inside of me I made the decision to purchase a camera that, even though it is on an amateur level, will allow me to capture a better image than my phone has allowed me to in the past.

As I un-packaged, and began to read the instructions of this camera, I felt a bit out of my league.  I spoke to my sister who is more learned at photography than I am and that just increased that feeling.  Finally, after texting a good friend of mine who has produced some fantastic work, the feeling of being ‘way out of my league’ took over.

But after settling myself down a bit, doing some research online and in the manual, and questioning my patient sister and friend, I began to take some shots.  These shots, even with the very basic knowledge and training that I had, still looked better and, more importantly, better captured the feeling of the scene I was attempting to freeze.

So I continued over the next several days, wielding my new weapon, searching for that next victim to taunt my trigger finger.  I photographed chickens, children, and cupkakes.  I shot sunsets, tractors, and horses.  Some were better than others.  My confidence would heighten with a beautiful image and then fall with the next embarrassment.

Friday night arrived and I found myself flopped in my favorite seat, my legs up, and my head feeling heavy.  I was realizing that I hadn’t escaped the round of bronchitis that had worked it’s way though my children, to my wife, and finally to me.  I was dreading what was next as I had witnessed my wife brought to her knees by it.  I knew if it had kicked her butt that hard, it could mean death to me

As the evening turned to night, I found myself tossing and turning as my throat tightened and began to throb.  Saturday was torture.  I couldn’t get comfortable, my throat and chest were a constant reminder of the demon that had taken over my body.  It was pure hell and it lasted into Saturday night and on into Sunday.  Finally, after a hot, long shower I emerged feeling a bit more human.  Not only because I had shaved and washed my hair, but because I could feel a sense of relief from the immense pressure and pain that had inhabited my throat and chest for the last 36 hours.

But even with a light opening at the end of the tunnel, I was still EXHAUSTED!  So my favorite chair still wrapped it’s comfort around me as I watched my kids play, sipped ruby red grapefruit juice, and surfed the web.

As I surfed I came across some information indicating that we had a Super Moon on our hands.  I was filled with a sense of excitement as I suddenly envisioned an award-winning photograph of that amazing moon peeking over a red-rock mesa.  It’s vibrant glow contrasting with the dark valley below.  I was filled with excitement and anticipation for this event.

I noted that in my time-zone the moon should be rising at 5:34pm.  I did some research on photographing the moon and armed with my camera and a vision of perfection.  I headed outside to conquer the world!

The first thing that hit me was a stiff, cold breeze.  Next was the billions of stinging sand grits it carried.  I instinctively shielded my camera as I scrambled to come up with a plan-B.  Once my mind settled on it I made a dash to Sami, my Samurai, and started it up.  Not only would this provide shelter from the wind and sand but it would also provide heat.  I was pleased with my solution and shifted into first gear so I could scout out where to position myself for that perfect shot.

I must have driven up and down the same road 10 times focused on the east and the mesa that would act as a studio for my photo-shoot.  Finally I settled on the south side of the mesa.  The only problem was that I wasn’t sure I would see the moon coming up and be able to position it where I wanted it to be.  So I headed back up the road to the north side where I could see further to the east.

5:34 came and went and still no moon.  I was cold and miserable.  I was concerned about my camera because, even though Sami was shelter, Sami has some flaws and one of those is not being air tight.  So I could still feel dust blowing around and collecting on the dash, steering wheel, and the covering I had laid over my camera.  For every minute that the moon didn’t rise my enthusiasm died a little more.

Finally I could see a dim light on the horizon.  I frantically started Sami and headed for my designated spot.  I lifted the camera and rested it on the window to settle it.  I zoomed in and tried to focus.  I took my first shot and immediately looked at the screen.  My heart sank as all I could see was a blurry mountain with a glow.  I adjusted some settings and shot again.  Same demeaning result.

As the moon rose I captured what images I could of it.  But they were nothing like I had hoped.  Rather than a beautiful landscape complimented by a large glowing moon, I ended up with a small moon in the middle of a black rectangle.  Nothing very glorious or awe-inspiring about that.  Quite defeated, I headed for home.

That night as I went to bed, even though I was physically feeling better, I was so discouraged and deflated.  I had spent my entire weekend cooped up in my home.  Only moving from the comfort of my chair to the kitchen to get a cold drink to relieve my throbbing throat, to the bathroom to relieve the pressure those drinks had put on my bladder, and then back to my chair in a fruitless effort to find relief from the agony and exhaustion that overtook me.  Then, to cap off my wasted weekend, the reviving ingredient of a chance to capture a majestic scene, only highlighted my amateurism and lack of experience and talent.

Luckily I did sleep pretty good Sunday night, and even slept in Monday morning.  I awoke, hopped in the shower, ate some breakfast, and headed outside.  With as cold as it’s been I need to start the car about 7-10 minutes early so it has a chance to warm up for a comfortable ride into town.  So my routine is to go out, start the car, and then I head out to feed the dogs, horses, and goat.  Making those rounds takes about 5 minutes and that allows me to get back into the house and, if need be, back up my wife as she hurries my daughter along in her school-readiness routine.

As I trudged out towards the animals, my face tucked down as deep as it could go and my hands pushed into the pockets of my coat in an attempt to be shielded from the cold, I continued to resent the weekend.  My precious days off had been wasted, and I had nothing to energize me as I headed into another long work week.  My mind began to run through my to-do list that I knew was awaiting me in my office.

I had a stack of orders sitting on my desk as I still played catch-up from the Thanksgiving break, our main digital production machine had been acting up on Friday, there was a problem with a customer that I needed to contact and try to smooth things over with, my employees were having some drama……..and that’s when I happened to glance up and spot it.

It stopped me dead in my tracks as my eyes fixated on it.  I stood frozen, not just by the cold, but by the portrait that was placed to the west.  Suddenly I realized that I had been so focused on the excitement that had been placed on the Super Moon rising the night before, I had forgotten the lesson my dad taught me: Always plan to catch the sunset.  And just as the sun would rise every morning and set every night.  The moon follows in-turn; rising every night and setting every morning.  This new day was giving me my majestic ‘sunset’ and I was wasting it fretting and moaning about how I had been jaded.

Finally finding myself I looked down at my empty hands and immediately ran to fill them with my new camera.  By the time I arrived back to that scene, the moon was dipping into the horizon.  My moment was slipping away!  I fingered the buttons, forcing my mind to recall all the new information that had been stuffed inside.  I raised the camera up and looked through the viewfinder.

I adjusted my eye, tilted the camera, zoomed in and out.  Why can I only see black!?  In a whirl of confusion I checked all the settings assuming I had left something off after the disappointing shoot the night before.  Then I heard the voice in my head: ‘take the lens cap off dummy!’  Again I raised the camera to my eye, zoomed in, and began unloading on the mesa to the west.

When the dust settled, and the moon had cozied down into it’s bed for the day, I stood with an un-commanded smile across my face.  A sudden shiver reminded me that if I didn’t hurry and finish my chores I would make my daughter late for school.  So I jogged from station to station, then back to the house, then out to the car, and on into town.

We made it on time and it wasn’t until I had settled into my chair at work that I took my first real look at the images I had shot that morning.  As I swiped through them, starting with the pictures from the night before, I could feel the moods I transitioned through with each one.

The dark images from the night before were cold and lonely as I wallowed in my self pity.  I had allowed that to marinate all night and arose, not grateful for the good nights rest I had finally obtained nor the pain and sickness that was slipping away, but rather caught up in the grumblings of an ungrateful man that could not even lift his head to notice what the new day had presented him with.

It makes me wonder: Had I never lifted my head, what would this post be about?  Would I still be cursing the weekend and my choice to try a new thing and take a peek into the world of photography?  Would my health still be improving or would it be the same as the day before?

When we are given a new day, every day, why not give it the best chance we can to change our lives?  Just as the sun will rise and the sun will set at the opening and close of that new day; the moon will rise only to set at the opening of the next new day.

Even if we didn’t make it happen today, if we follow the moon, we’ll get another chance tomorrow.

No matter how good the surface looks, the real story is told underneath

About 8 years ago I purchased a 1992 Chevy pickup truck in order to take care of the need at my business to make larger deliveries, pick up loads of paper and supplies, and more.  It served in this capacity well for a good 5 years.  But as our family grew, and some financial goals were met, the opportunity to upgrade to a newer, more comfortable truck, with better hauling and towing capabilities, became a reality.

So the newer truck was purchased by my business to fill that need, leaving me with the older Chevy to use for my own personal needs.  I loved that truck.  It was red and dark, dark grey.  The paint and body were both in very good condition making it quite the looker for an ‘older’ truck.  It had a 5-speed manual transmission, with a V8 venting through a throaty exhaust.

The plan was to use it for the more dirty and rough type of work and keep the newer truck protected from these mundane and hazardous tasks.  You know; hauling garbage to the dump, getting wood, hunting and recreating outdoors, that kind of stuff.  But what I realized was that it was just too good of a truck to sit and deteriorate while it waited for it’s turn to play.  I was using my newer truck for most of these things anyways as it would pull a trailer much better and my family could fit in it more comfortably.  So we decided to put it up for sale and let someone else enjoy it.

Because it was such a nice truck for it’s age, it sold quick (almost too quick making me think I asked too little for it).  And suddenly I had a chunk of money burning a hole in my pocket.  First, I did the responsible thing by paying off a small debt we owed.  Then, well, I fulfilled one of my childhood dreams.

You see, growing up in the hills around my hometown with my dad doing photography, naturally led me towards an interest, and love, for the four-wheel-drive vehicle and the adventure of ‘the ride’.  Just as my older brother was turning 16 the purchase of a 1960

Willys CJ5 Jeep was made.  It was pretty much stock, but with a little lift and some bigger tires, that machine could go anywhere.  This was what most of my driving training was based on.

 

As a result of these experiences, I developed a bit of a distant crush on the Suzuki Samurai.  They are just like the Jeeps, but completely different.  They are a hair smaller, weigh less, skinnier, and more modern than the old CJ’s I was used to.  This translated into a heater for the winter, 5 forward gears instead of only 3, power steering and a paved road-worthiness that also translated into off-road capabilities.  In contrast, the CJ5 that we called Lil’ Red maxed out on the pavement at about 50mph  and  that was after you built up some courage.

And so the search was on.  My excitement and anticipation grew as I envisioned great excursions filled with miles and miles of road, mixed between paved and dirt, seeking out new and exciting things to see and places to go.

That’s when I found it.  There it was in all of it’s caution orange glory on the classifieds page.  It was a 1988 Suzuki Samurai.  It had been upgraded with a 1.6 liter fuel injected motor over the smaller 1.3 carbureted engine they came stock with.  It was lifted, with big tires, home-made-suspension, and other modifications to make it an off-road machine.  The body was dented and mashed in at places, with a cracked windshield.  The interior was weather-worn and dirty from being outside with no top on for many seasons.  Switches and gauges didn’t work, and a rats-nest of wires dangled from underneath the dash.

I honestly was looking for something a bit cleaner, and closer to stock.  But after looking it over, and taking it for a rickety, somewhat un-safe feeling test drive, I paid the man, loaded it on my flat bed trailer, and proudly took it home.  My goals changed from a stock, daily driver, cute little rig to a big, burly off-road machine.  It had the potential for that, and I knew it!

Well, what came next was a series of fix-ups, modifications, and beatifications to make it, albeit somewhat in a shady manner, pass inspection to be licensed as road-worthy.  But also to look the part of a serious off-roader.

Now here is where I will start to get to the point:  Part of the process of making this Samurai the machine I imagined in my head as a 17 year old boy wanting to turn the heads of all the cheerleaders and show up all the jocks at the amateur hill climb contest, was that it needed the transfer case re-built and the tires were all miss-matched and so old the rubber was hard enough to be used as steam rolling cylinders.

The rig came with a locker in the rear axle which forced both rear tires to turn all the time versus an open axle that most vehicles are stock with that allows one tire to spin faster than the other, or transfers all the power to one side leaving the other side standing still.  So it was already more capable in 2-wheel drive than most SUVs in 4-wheel drive.  But with the drive to make this the coolest looking rig on the trail and wanting to use the best of the best parts so I could brag about name brands, and gear ratios to all the cool kids, I opened up my wallet and started buying parts.

First came the gears for the transfer case:  I went with an extra low set of gears, making first gear in low range as slow as a snail climbing up a frozen glacier.  Because that’s what the cool guys out on the rocks have.

Then came the big, meaty tires.  The old tires had no grip, so these big, beefy mud tires would make the rig even more capable but also it made the Samurai look the part.

Next came the rear shocks that allowed the rear suspension to flex extra far allowing one wheel to be perched up on a big rock, tucked deep into the fender and the other to drop way down to the ground.  This helped with traction on uneven terrain, but also looked cool so I could show off in pictures that I could share with my friends on Facebook.

I touched up the exterior with some cool looking fender flares, some new paint here and there, and moved the side mirror from the door to the body of the rig so I could take the doors off, ’cause that’s cool too.

I also put in some new seats, washed out all the dirt and mud, and tied the rats-nest of wires up under the dash so they were out of sight.

Finally I got a custom orange camo vinyl wrap to put on the hood, adding some very stylish flare to the rig if I do say so myself. I also added some fancy new LED off-road style lights to replace the old fashioned, boring looking, lights that the Samurai came with.  This did utilize one of the inside switches that were non-functional when it was purchased.

And TADA!!!!!  I had one mean, and very cool, looking Samurai that I could show off to everyone!  So what was the first thing I did to prove how cool my 4×4 was?  Well, what any boy would do; I proceeded to make it climb a tree!  Well, a tree-stump to be precise.

We had an old cottonwood tree that had died a few years prior and was cut down leaving a stump that was about 36 inches in diameter and stood about 40 inches tall.  The idea was to make some sort of a bench or something neat out of the remaining trunk.  But how cool would it look if I could drive the Samurai up and pose it with on tire on the very top of that trunk?!?!  Can you see it in your head?  Well, I could, and I knew it would make me a superstar in the local off-road community.

I put the Samurai in first gear and rolled over in front of the stump positioning myself with my passenger side front tire up against the base of the stump.  I shifted the transfer case into four-wheel-drive and then into low range.  I then shifted the transmission into first gear and brought the rev’s up as I began to slowly let the clutch out.

The Samurai began to move forward, and to my delight, upwards.  The passenger side front wheel began to climb the stump just as I had hoped.  About half way up the stump the rear tires began to spin and slide to the side.  So in went the clutch and down came the tire.

I was now more excited then ever to get that perfect pose I was framing in my mind.  So I re positioned myself, and gave it even more throttle as I did my best to force that tire up on top of the stump.  About 3/4 of the way up, it happened:  SNAP!!!

Any off-roader knows that sound all too well.  It is the sound of a large, and very solid piece of steel breaking because it was the weak link in a group effort of mechanical parts all trying to fulfill their captains orders at that moment.

Well, down came the tire, and as I backed away from the tree I could hear clanging, grinding, and mashing.  I knew something had broken, but wasn’t sure what.  So I began to drive towards the shop where I could investigate further.  The Samurai drug itself along with it’s front tires, the rear tires dragging like a wounded animal trying to flee a predator.

After a bit of investigating, it was confirmed.  I had broken the rear axle shaft.  All of the upgrades, time and energy spent was sitting in my shop completely useless because even though the Samurai would start, shift into gear, and run; it could not drive.  All the

power and potential was brought to a complete halt by something that was completely hidden to me through the entire process of making the Samurai look the way I wanted it to.

I discovered that the bigger engine, combined with the lower gears and bigger, grippier tires, created more torque which in turn put so much more pressure and responsibility on the weak, stock, axle shaft.  After years of use, rather than being supported and strengthened to stand up to the task ahead of it.  It was broken easily, and laid there helpless, bleeding out gear oil.

What followed was only what I could define as a soul searching experience.  Humiliated by the fact that my Samurai broke so easily in my own front yard in an attempt to preform a silly publicity stunt and realizing the potential it had to strand me in a compromising situation had I been out in the hills, miles away from anybody or anything, suddenly motivated me to look at it as a whole machine; not just what could be seen by onlookers or what I expected it to look like.

I looked deeper, searching out the weaknesses.  This was not an attempt to degrade it, or play down it’s capabilities; but only in order to build upon it’s strengths and to improve it’s chances for success.

As I did this, I realized that I had spent so much time and resources on the surface upgrades that I had nothing left to mend the real problems.  The problems that should have been addressed first as to create a foundation that would stand the test of time, and of my right foot.

After visiting with my wife, and confessing my reckless errors, she allotted me a budget so I could start bringing the Samurai to life.  I was not able to strengthen every weakness in that moment, there are still many more that need to be addressed.  But Sami, (as my family affectionately refers to it now) the Samurai is stronger than it ever has been.

Sami has become a member of our family now because of the progress that has been made.  Sami and I have conquered many, many local trails without incident and earlier this year, Sami even conquered the off-roading mecca of Moab during an unforgettable trip my brother and I went on.

By setting positive, obtainable goals and being patient with the process, OFTEN looking back to remind myself how far we’ve come; Sami has become the machine I had hoped for.  But had I pushed everything at once I fear it would be parked up under an old tree, with brand new parts sparkling in the sunlight as the engine sat lifeless.  Abandoned because too many weak links had surfaced and as an overwhelming feeling settled in, a white flag of failure raised.

I love this quote by Russell M. Nelson.  He says: “Don’t demand things that are unreasonable, but demand of yourself improvement.”  Too often I feel that as a business owner/boss, a husband, a father, and a person well known in our community that I am not allowed to have weaknesses.  I have to be the perfect robot that sets the standard for all others to follow.  But as I try to follow this rigorous process of ‘being the ideal’ I find myself wearing down, and burning out.

The joy and excitement of the life I have chosen to live starts to deteriorate leaving broken dreams and a feeling of exhaustion as I try to live up to a standard that no one, but myself, has set for me.

By ignoring the things that I know deep down inside need improvement; I only set myself up for failure because they can’t withstand the burden up the upgrades, and pressure of new parts, and responsibilities I am forcing on.

So what to do?  Well, I PICKED A PARTNER.  Someone who loves me, and not only wants me to succeed, but depends on me to succeed.  That would be my wife.  That was the first step, and the somewhat easy step.  This could be a trusted co-worker, a good friend, parent, mentor, even a therapist.  Just someone who you trust, who you know cares about you, and who you would be willing to help.

The second is much harder, especially if you are built the way I am.  That step was to ASK FOR HELP.  A lot of times I don’t really need her to do much other than just to share the burden, and to act as a reminder for me.  For instance, I have learned that if I read before I go to bed, rather than watching YouTube or surfing the net, it not only allows me to sleep better, but also effects the next day in a positive manner.  I also find that I waste too much time on Facebook or YouTube or other (I hope I don’t offend anyone by saying this) meaningless entertainment.  Don’t get me wrong, there is a time and place for everything*.  But when that starts to encroach on my time with kids, or extends my mid-morning bathroom break to 25minutes……  Well, you get the point.  Often I just need her to remind me that I want to try and spend less time with those things.  Or remind me when I get in bed to put the phone down and pick up the book.  Because the prior was habit, and I am trying to form a new habit.

So to have someone simply remind me, and partner with me on these things is HUGE.  Not only is the burden shared, but the task of improving becomes magically more manageable because you have a helping hand and support.

I should also take this a step further and say that professional help may be needed as well depending on the struggles or weaknesses you face.  Most of the struggles I am facing are laziness, lack of motivation,  and maybe some mild effects of depression.  But if you are struggling with addictions, low self-esteem, etc.  You may need professional help.  Again, this is where your partner can come in and help you determine how much, or how little is needed.

When I was working on Sami, I had a ‘professional’ I called and communicated with often on the larger decisions and remedies.  I was timid at first to admit that I couldn’t manage the repairs and changes on my own.  But the professional help wasn’t demeaning or crude, but was understanding and monumental to not only helping me with the process, but helping me become self-sufficient as future hurdles appeared.

What was next?  Well, I SET PRIORITIES.  I won’t spend too much time on this, I shared much of my thoughts in my last installment entitled the The Allegory of the Hammer.  But basically I sat back and re-evaluated where I was going and pitted that against where I wanted to go when I started.  I think we often get confused about what is important, and in what order we should set our priorities.  If you take the time to really ponder on these I think you’ll find that maybe you need to re-arrange your steps in order to complete the staircase successfully and safely.  I would also add that once you have set these priorities, share them with your partner.  That way they can hold you accountable, but again, they share the burden of change.

That leads me to BEING SELFISH IS NOT BEING SELFISH.  Okay, I know that totally looks like a typo.  But it’s exactly what I mean.  As a father I’m supposed to want to spend every minute I can with my kids.  As a boss I should set the example and be the first one there in the morning and the last one to leave.  As a family man I should plan and execute trips based on my family and what would be best for them.  As a business owner I should attend all of the county and city planning meetings and be involved in on every aspect of the local economy.

Because if I put these things off in order to do something for MYSELF I’m being SELFISH….right???  Well the short answer is: wrong.  The long answer was presented to me by my wife.  That is why I say pick a partner.  She helped me realize that I was literally burning myself out.  I needed ‘ME TIME’ in order to re-charge, and re-evaluate my daily processes and plans.  She helped me feel okay about leaving my family and going on an adventure that I needed, but that was too difficult or just wouldn’t be fun as a family event.  She helped me realize that, yes, it’s important for me to be at work consistently, but that I didn’t need to stay longer than was needed.  I could leave when I was done and do something for ME that would help me start the next day or the next week with a new fire and sense of purpose rather than exhaustion and drudgery.

When I go to purchase a vehicle I intentionally try to ignore the glamor and beauty of what can easily be seen.  To me a few cosmetic issues are weighted very lightly in that decision.  I look under the chassis, check the oil, examine the tires for uneven wear, listen for inconsistent noises; I check the things that can be hidden or blurred by the beauty of the outward appearance.  Because the hidden things are what make the foundation of a lasting, dependable rig.

We are built the same way.  The world demands a sense of perfection in our lives.  It tells us that the ‘ideal’ is everywhere but in the mirror we face every morning.  I will not mix words when I say it is all a lie.  I will also not mix words when I say that we have potential far beyond what we can imagine.  If we ASK FOR HELP from a PARTNER, SET OUR PRIORITIES, and try to realize that you are NOT BEING SELFISH when you take some ‘me time’.  You can demand, and achieve, improvement without breaking.

 

* I really like this post written by dadding depressed.  It’s called Why You Shouldn’t Give A Double Tap.  I also really enjoyed Quick Tip: Know The ‘Why’ Of Social Media and FOMO: What it is And What To Do both by the same author.

Not only is my shop considered a small business, it’s quite literally SMALL.

If you made a list of my complaints when it comes to my daily work tasks; the lack of space would probably be at the top of that list.  We currently occupy a 2500sq ft. space.  It is basically two units of a six unit strip mall.  I feel like it is just too cramped and every task is complicated by size.

I absolutely HATE having to move things, in order to access other things. One of my ‘therapy solutions’ is to cook. I love food, and it is nearly a spiritual experience for me when I zone into the kitchen to create a tasty masterpiece. But I HATE digging through our pantry, having to pull three things off of the shelf to access that one thing I need, only to have to do it all over again to put it back.

That is how I feel here at my shop. For example; I have a client that provides me with pre-printed, pre-cut sheets of paper. These are called ‘shells’ in printer’s terms. They print them in another city, at a larger shop, on a larger printing press. Only the art that stays the same on every sheet is printed during this process.  This would be the logo, addresses, bar codes, etc. They print these in large quantities, cut them down to a size that will fit on my press, and pallet them up for me. By running a large volume in one run (we are talking hundreds of thousands) they get bulk pricing and it brings the total cost of the project down.

The pallets are then stored in one of their warehouses for me to go and get one at a time as needed. I bring the pallet to my shop, and run the individual pieces with all the art that does change depending on the order in smaller quantities (1,000 up to 60,000 or so), cut them to the finished size, package them, and deliver the final product.

This allows me to provide quick turn around time since I am local, often next day service, but is also the most cost-effective way.  However, it requires me to be able to bring in, and house, at least three full pallets alongside ALLLLLLL of the other paper I need to keep in stock. For only 2500 sq ft. that is quite a feat to preform.

Everytime I need to bring one of these pallets in (and I should mention that the double doors they enter in are conveniently placed directly across the entire shop from their final resting place) the process begins:

First I work on removing the old pallet, sweeping up underneath to make sure there isn’t any broken chunks of wood that would cause the breaks of the pallet jack to go on full lock once hit.  I then work my way towards the double doors moving any obstacles in the way in order to ensure a full 4 foot wide path.

Usually I have carts, padded standing mats, rugs, machines, boxes, and more that need to be moved out of this path only to obstruct another path. It isn’t a quick process to say the least.  Once I’ve reached the double doors I have to swing them both wide open and use chalks to keep them that way. This means I have to find the two chalks that somehow always walk away from the spot that I’ve left them.

Once outside I put the old pallet on the stack for deliveries, and cut away the plastic wrapping that encases the new pallet. Now, I am finally ready to move in the new pallet.

These pallets, on average, weigh about 3,500 pounds. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to push, or pull that kind of weight on your own; but on an unassisted pallet jack it is not an easy thing to do. Especially when building code dictates that the entry to a level door must have a slight incline away from the building for drainage.

And so I grab the handle, jack it up high enough to not get high-centered on the kick plate, and try to get as much momentum as I can walking parallel to the door before I suddenly turn at a right angle, and with all my might, make the pull into the doors.

Usually, I barely have enough strength to get the last set of wheels over the kick plate.
It is typically at this point that I realize I have taken just enough time to find the chalks, cut the wrapping off, and get the pallet into the door, that someone has come along and moved things back into MY path in order to open up THEIR path.

So I proceed to put everything back to where I had it a mere 5 minutes before.  I can now, very slowly, pull the pallet through the building, barely missing corners, as I make right angle turns. It is like an orchestrated dance as I do my best not to plow this 3,500 lb. tank into a $3,500.00 piece of plastic-encased equipment, while still trying to keep just enough momentum rolling in order to save what strength I have left after pulling it through the doors.  In several spots I have mere inches to spare.

I am finally able to make the final turn before pushing it into it’s designated parking space. Again, I have strategically arranged the equipment in my shop allowing just enough space to make these maneuvers. So it is a very slow, and methodical process, often needing two or three corrections before it is placed and slowly let down to settle on the floor.

Finally, I follow the path back through the shop, again, replacing all of the things that I have removed, folded over, or pushed aside so that normal operations can resume.
It gets me so wound up when I consider that what should be a quick grab, pull, and place process takes upwards of 20-30 minutes because of all the preparation, searching, and re-placing that has to be involved every single time.

I know that we have completely re-arranged the shop at least 3 times, and done many, many more remote re-arrangments as a result of this problem.  I continue to stand, ponder, pick a different angle, and ponder some more; trying to squeeze some sort of revelation on how to create more space.  But it is all to no avail.

The solution is clear; we simply need a bigger space.  What we have fit into a 2500sq ft. space is, quite simply, a miracle.  We are getting by, yes.  But in my eyes it isn’t safe the way it is right now.  It isn’t effective the way it is right now.  And it isn’t efficient the way it is right now.  All of these things translate into $$$$$ to me.

So the solution:  well, I don’t have one yet.  I have looked into building, after building, after building.  They are either too expensive, just not made for heavy and large equipment, or need too many modifications to meet the criteria for my business, making them too expensive.  It seems that my business has enough unique needs that it won’t fit into just any space.  And then there is the size issue.  Everything is just barely too small, or way too big.

So I continue to look because I am a problem solver.  But as I battle this problem I can’t help but realize why it exists to begin with.

When we moved into this space, we were comfortable.  Everything fit, and everything had it’s place.  What that means is that over the last 7 years we have outgrown our own cloths.  Now in human terms, this is a depressing fact.  Having to go buy new jeans because you current ones feel like they are going to separate your body into two every time you sit down is a sad reality that your high school body is gone forever.  But in business terms, it is a sign of health.

So to me this sign translates into three things:

1. I have larger jobs at a larger volume than 7 years ago

2. Not only do I need a larger space, but I’ll be able to afford to move into a larger space once the right one is found

And most importantly: 3. Both of these translate into ‘I must be doing something right’

Your business/career is a tool, it’s not your life!

Let’s liken it to a….hammer.  Here’s one I have at my shop.

As you can see, It’s not pretty.  The handle is stained with ink and grease and other contaminants.  It’s chipped and scratched.  The head isn’t shiny and new, and perfectly formed.  It has dings and is marred by hard work and use.  Another way to put it is that it is imperfect.  It is a working tool that will continue to accrue defects and imperfections.  But it will continue to work and do the job that it is designed to do.

When I need this hammer I pull it from it’s place, use it for the intended job, and then put it back.  And, quite frankly, it is forgotten about until it is needed again.  It sits among the other tools not standing out as more needed, or desirable than them.  But if it were not there, it would be missed greatly.  For that reason, I take care of this hammer.  I make sure to use it wisely, and not recklessly.  I make sure to put it back in it’s place where it is safe and can be found and used for many years to come.  It does it’s intended job well, and I don’t need it to do more, nor do I allow it to do less than that.

So how do I liken this to my business? Well, it isn’t perfect and probably never will be.  It’s been through some rough times so it has some lasting scars from that.  The equipment inside isn’t brand new, or the latest and greatest, but they get the job done.  It fills a need in the community, and while I don’t expect it to grow into something huge, I hope and pray it will continue to fill the needs that are here.

After a days’ work, I need to ‘put it away’ for the night.  There is a time and a place for worry and concern, but at home with my family is not the place for it.  Maybe as I have thoughts or ideas I need to make a note in my phone so I can reference it at a more suitable time and place.  But then it is recorded, and I can get back to the present.

My business sits among many other businesses in our town.  Some larger and some smaller.  I shouldn’t expect praise and adoration for what I have accomplished, but I should find satisfaction in the need that it fulfills even if that is never acknowledged publicly.

Finally, I need to care for it.  I need to acknowledge that it does need my input, maintenance, and faithful effort to continue to function in it’s designed role.  If I abandon it or treat it recklessly it will fail to serve it’s purpose, and in turn I will fail to fill my family’s needs through it.  So there will always be a level of stress, effort, dedication, and worry involved.  This is especially true when you are the owner as all roads merge at your door.

But there is also only so much you can control, and only so much that can be done in a single day.  So if I put all of my time, effort, and energy into maintaining that one tool, that one aspect of my life; what do I have left to offer the other parts of my life.  Those parts, when I put everything into perspective, that matter most to me?

And so my goal is to treat that tool with respect, and give it the attention and effort it needs in order to fill it’s role.  But not to let it’s importance blind me to what really matters.  For my business/career is merely a tool designed to take care of my life, and the lives who depend on me and are around me.  They need my best me.  And if I give it to them, that will be the best investment I can ever make.

Is this it?  Is this what we CAN’T WAIT to grow up for?

A couple of weeks ago I attended a funeral for a good friend and business associate of mine of over 10 years.  He took over his distribution business in February of 2007 and I took over my shop in October of 2007.  We nurtured a relationship that was founded on business but grew into a respect, and sympathy for each other as we pushed forward in our pursuits.

This friendship grew as our discussions would turn to family, religion, celebrations, and mourning.  I came to respect this man, deeply, and admired his humble approach to business and life.

I was shocked when his wife called (not the fact that she called, for she helped him often in his day to day tasks) and informed me that he had passed away in his sleep.  No warning signs, no struggle, just a peaceful passing on from this life in the comfort of his own bed.  He was 53 years old, a mere 5 years from my hopeful retirement age.  See Here I Am.

Fast forward a couple of weeks and the joyous event of one of my wife’s cousins getting married was proceeding.  They were married at the same venue as my wife and I were, so when we wandered the grounds with our two children in tow; the memories of wedding pictures, smiling faces, COLD (we were married in February) and the anticipation of how wonderful a life together would be all came flooding in.

As they came out of the doors to the alleyway created by friends and family clapping and cheering them on; they looked so young, so naive, so…..happy.  I considered what my plan was when I was in his shoes.  What were my goals, hopes, and dreams……

Then I am forced to face what the present day holds as I sign loan documents that will refinance a loan I took on mere weeks after I took over the business 10 years ago.  This was a loan that we were pretty much forced into, and has haunted me for 10 years, and will continue to linger for many more.

I feel as though I am a prisoner being held at the bank, forced to sign these documents that will hold, not only the business I have worked so hard to build and grow liable for, but myself, personally, as well.  I feel as though I am making a deal with the devil, a deal that will hide in the corner of my mind waiting for some special occasion to arrive like a birthday or an anniversary.  An occasion that will bring me so much joy and hope, only to be crushed by the sudden remembrance of the deal I have made and the burden it holds.

So is this it?  Is this what we simply CAN’T WAIT for?  To get married, get into debt, and then to live and work to pay off that debt only to find death knocking at the door?

I will tell you that out of all of these events, the funeral had the most positive impact on my life.  That may sound odd to you that the funeral, not the wedding, would be the inspirational moment for me, but let me explain.

I had intended to only go to the viewing that was to be held on a Friday night.  It was to be held in a town that is about an hour and half drive from where I live.  My wife was recovering from a surgery, and we decided that it would be too much for her and the kids to take the long drive, only to attend a viewing, and then drive all the way back home.  So I would be going on my own, and attending the viewing on a Friday evening made the most sense rather than to attend the viewing and funeral service on Saturday.

Saturdays are a day I hold sacred for projects, playing in the hills, and just doing what I want for once.  Trading that in for a day in a larger city (cities are one of my least-favorite things) attending the funeral just didn’t appeal to me.  After all, I wasn’t family, and didn’t feel the expectation of having to attend the actual funeral service.  I could pay my respects just the same at the viewing on Friday night.  It would serve the same purpose for the mourning family, and was more convenient for me.

But something kept nagging at me; kept prompting me with the thought that I should attend the actual funeral service.  After a long tug-o-war in my mind, I finally decided I would attend the full funeral services on Saturday.  I admired this man, I wanted to show my respects, and I was interested to learn more about who he was especially before I knew him.

As I sat among strangers in the church, I immediately felt a warm and inviting atmosphere.  I could tell that those who surrounded him and his family during this time of sorrow were much like him.  They were humble, kind, caring, and happy people.  And the speakers confirmed that.  They were who they were, because of his influence in their lives.

They talked about how his life was filled with service and concern for others.  How, even though he was a busy man, he made time to visit with those in need.  He would go out of his way to stop in and see someone who he knew needed his time.  They talked about his honesty, and integrity.  They spoke of his deep love and devotion to his family.  His family was his world, and he made it a point to prioritize that in his life.  The more I heard, the more I realized that he was more than a man, he was an angel to everyone he came in contact with.

And suddenly, that is when the thought settled into my mind; he was not hugely successful at his business pursuits by worldly standards.  He struggled to pay bills and didn’t own a vehicle newer than maybe 12 years old.  He didn’t have a corner office that branded him as powerful, or respected.  His business was a tool.   A tool to provide for his needs, while he took care of what mattered most.

I immediately felt a wave of emotion come over me as I suddenly saw myself in similitude with him.  I have worked so hard over the last 10 years, focused on my business.  I have stressed, worried, and been burdened by every aspect of it.  It has consumed me and aged me.  But for what?!?  I don’t have respect and power in my community because of it.  I don’t have a corner office and the newest vehicle we own is 11 years old.  So what do I have to show for my struggles, my stresses, my worries?

Now, I should clarify, that these stresses and worries were not focused on financial success.  I have never assumed, or held a hope that I will be a rich man some day.  That I will have money flowing from every account under my name that I can use to buy land, mansions, fancy cars, and exotic vacations with.  But I do feel a HUGE sense of responsibility to provide for my family, not only the daily needs, but in a way that they can live comfortably.  I am also driven because of the debts that are laid on the business.  Most of these are an unavoidable part of building a business, and accepted as standard procedures.  But they weigh heavy on my mind because there is always that doubt, that thought of: what if I fail?  And the answer: we could lose everything!

And so I stress, struggle, and worry.  I work tirelessly; physically during the day and mentally during the night.  My world revolves around my business as it has to be considered with every decision we make.  So what do I have to show for these efforts?  What has it earned me over the last 10 years of struggle?

Well, I have a wife who loves me and helps me daily keeping the books and doing odd jobs at the shop.  I have two children who are growing in a clean, comfortable home.  They have food on the table, and in the fridge.  (To the point of us having to beg, literally, our daughter to please eat!).  We have good running vehicles that are dependable and comfortable, and that are owned outright.  We have been able to go to the hospital when needed, and go on trips when wanted.  These are the things that I have to show for my hard work.  I have enough.

That’s when I had the sudden stupor of; what am I working and stressing so hard about?  I have met my goals.  My family is well taken care of and provided for.  The debts are maintained, and while they are not gone all together, they will be if given some time.  I’m not rich; overflowing with wealth, power and prestige.  But I never expected that.  I just needed to take care of the things that matter most to me…..and I am. Their physical needs at least.

When I die, the legacy that I leave behind may include my business; whatever it may be at that point.  But the legacy that matters, will be my family and the other relationships I have made.

How do we find more than A Wedding, Some Debt, and a Funeral in our lives?

I don’t have all the answers, but I’d like to share my thoughts over the next several posts.  I’ll call the first The Allegory of the Hammer.

This week has hit me like a smack to the face.  Not only did we have a time change on Sunday, but it has suddenly turned cold.  I know that it will warm up again before the inevitable cold that will linger for months as winter settles into it’s role.  But it represents change, and sometimes change is just hard!  And now I sound like a four year old, but it’s true.  I am no scientist, but simple observation dictates that change, and I mean any change, takes effort.  Here is one of the changes that this week represented to me:

Why is it dark so early!?! Typically I roll out of bed about 6:30am.  My amazing wife is much better at this than I am.  So she is my alarm clock as she gets out of bed, goes into our bathroom, and starts getting ready for the day.  I tend to laze in bed until I hear the shower kick on and that is my queue that I better get going…..did I mention that it is currently dark outside???  Anyways, up and at-em!  A fire needs to be made to warm the house and I sit in front of it reading as I monitor it’s progress.  Once I am satisfied it is running it’s course, I lay J5’s cloths over the arm of the nearby couch to warm and the day is off and running.  J5 is taken to school to arrive by 8am and I am headed to work.  Typically I work until 5-6pm……ok, there really isn’t a “typical” end time for me.  Maybe a more accurate statement would be; typically I work until I am satisfied that what needs to be done that day is done with the intention to leave around 5-6pm.  Guess what!?!?  It’s either nearly, or already dark at this point.  It’s a little suffocating!  We eat dinner…and then it feels like bedtime.  But SURPRISE!!! bedtime isn’t for another two hours!  What now??!!  Usually I could head outside to work on a project that needs my attention, or to just putter around the house, shop, a vehicle, or go for a walk or something.  The kids would follow, run around with the dogs, find rocks in the yard, play in the water, something or anything to kill some time and burn some energy.  But now we are trapped in this 600sq foot area called our dinning and living room with a two year old monkey that is fascinated by a cupboard that he has cleaned out everyday for the last month and a swinging wrecking ball of a five year old that is constantly running into the two year old, saying sorry, and doing it again.  And so the frantic process begins of trying to imagine up some activity that will entertain a two year old boy who loves all things boy, and a five year old girl who loves all things girl.  You feel this panic roll over you as you wring out any trace of mental energy you have left after a stress-filled day of work to create something that will eat energy, entertain, and not break anything.  Well…..here’s my confession; last night I gave into XBOX.  But it worked!  I’ve gotta give kudos to XBOX on this one.  I have had this XBOX system for a while now.  I play Forza on it, a racing game I really enjoy when I just need some lazy time.  But in the past my kids were too small to play side-by-side with me, and struggled with the avatar concept.  But apparently enough has changed over the last year or so.  My daughter and I played Kinect Adventures and really had a great time at it.  In fact, I finally had to sit down and let her carry on alone it was so involved.  Between flailing your arms in an attempt to make your avatar flail his/her arms in an attempt to hit balls or plug holes in an underwater aquarium room, jumping up and down and stepping side to side on a raft as it tears down a huge river trying to collect coins, and jumping, stepping, and ducking as you roll down some insane obstacle course of a roller coaster ride; the game was entertaining, active, and just what we needed last night.  And best of all, my son intently watched the screen and got waaaaaaay to excited every time a helicopter arrived to drop off a trophy won, or to lead into what the next adventure was going to be.  Now I’m not going to say it wasn’t without it’s challenges; T2 did bring out blocks that were landmines under your feet as you jumped and side-stepped focused on the screen and not on your foot placement, and yes, he did take out J5’s legs causing her to body slam him once.  But all in all, it felt like a successful evening.  Thank you XBOX and Kinect Adventures.  You made me #BossDad for a night!

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