Choose Your Reaction

I have had three moments recently that reinforced the power of choosing my reactions to situations. Did I make the right choice? Overall I think so, but let me share these three dots…

First situation was a few days ago. It was time for dinner but our youngest daughter was not home. She is 10 years old. We knew where she was, she had ridden her bike to a friend’s house about eight blocks away. Frustration started to boil in my chest as the food was almost ready to serve and there was no sign of my daughter.

I decided to take the car to go get her. In my head I was mad because she should know to come home around 6 p.m. because we usually eat at that time. But then I thought of the fact that she does not have a phone or even a watch. Also, the weather is getting nice, she is a kid playing with a friend… time has no influence on her, just me.

I saw them on the driveway playing some kind of ball game. I rolled down the window. The moment had come to decide how I was going to handle the moment. Yell at her? Lecture her about being responsible?

“Time for dinner!” I said.

“OK,” she replied, smiling. She hugged her friend then got on her bike. She peddled next to me as I told her how fast she was going.

As we sat down to dinner she told me that she had asked her friend’s dad to let her know when it was 6:15 so that she would come home in time for dinner.

Second moment was yesterday at track practice.

I chose to yell. OK, more like raised my voice and brought out my frustrated energy.

Now, I did not yell at a single athlete or put anyone down. But I stood in the middle of the discus ring while the throwers stood around me. Their attitude and focus was shabby as they did some power throws. No left arm. Not smashing the bug (turning the right foot). Being smooth with their release… discuses were wobbly or 90 degrees. I was frustrated that the fundamentals were lacking, especially since this was the seventh week of the season. I let them know.

I am not a coach that yells. I stay pretty level, even when good things happen. I needed their attention. I got it. Practice afterwards was much better regarding focus and execution of the fundamentals.

The last moment was just this morning. My third daughter (age 14) came to my room before school started. She was obviously in a bad mood. As a dad I asked about it. (I know all you parents are already reacting… wrong move.) She replied that the question was annoying and put her earbuds back in.

My first reaction was to match her energy back at her. But I pushed the frustration down. I told her I was asking because I cared. She didn’t respond back. I continued to get ready for the day. My chest was still a little warm, but reminded myself that she was a teen, it was the morning. (I swear I didn’t say a single word to my second son in the morning all through high school.) 

I went to get a ladder because I had to put up some posters my students made, when I returned my daughter asked if she could help. She wanted to climb the ladder. She took some funny pictures and helped me put up the posters. 

Our emotions rise quickly in any situation, positive or negative. And there is nothing wrong with the emotions, but how we react to the situation and to the emotion dictates the outcome. My relationship with my daughters could have been bruised if I had yelled at them. My athletes needed a wake up call.

We do have a choice on how we react. It makes all the difference in some of the most important moments of our lives.

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It is hard to reach your goals

So, I’m not doing what I set out to do. I am supposed to be writing a really cool short story idea I have. I am at my favorite writing spot at my local coffee shop, The Blue Moon. I have my Bizarre Orange Encounter drink. (My traditional drink for moments like this.) My writing playlist is hitting the right notes. But I am blogging.

Chasing your dreams is hard.

Today, this moment, is a perfect example why.

First, I had planned this moment a few days ago. Our trash needs to be out on the curb at 7 a.m. I was like, I could just go to the Blue Moon to write before the day started. 

It opens at 7:30. We are on Easter break. Perfect way to start the day. Well, it was a struggle to just get here.

I got the garbage out in time, but had to fight… fight the urge to just crawl back into bed and sleep. The voice in my head tempted me with the thought that I could write another time. And it is true… but that is the first hurdle to achieving your goals. Actually working on it.

There will always be something to take you away from working on your goals, especially if you have to hold down a job to chase your dream or raise a family or any relationship. We only have so much time. We all have the same amount each day. We decide how to spend it. It’s important to spend it well. That means your relationships, your job, but also your goals. 

Yes, you have to plan your time, and that is OK. Plan the time with friends and family, but also your goals, and stick to it.

The second hurdle was my youngest daughter. She loves having breakfast at the Blue Moon. I was tempted to see if she wanted to go. To sit and talk with her about Taylor Swift and horses. But if I did, I wouldn’t get any writing done. Achieving balance is part of life. Hence, the reason for planning your time. It helps you maintain that balance so you can strive for your goals and be a good friend, father, and husband (in my case).

I showered, grabbed my computer, kissed my wife and headed to the Blue Moon. Got my drink. Put in my headphones. And started this blog… which is also a hurdle.

 I am supposed to be working on a new short story. Instead, I am blogging. I know what you might be thinking reader. How is this a bad thing? You blog all the time.

It is bad because I am not working toward my goal. I want to be known as a writer. I have novels that are not completed. Short story rough drafts in notebooks. I have so many ideas that are not completed. They don’t write themselves.

Yes, I am happy to blog. I hope this post helps you in your pursuit of your dreams. But I wonder, am I just afraid to reach for that big dream. Are you afraid, too? 

We find ways to distract ourselves, to give ourselves excuses not to chase those big dreams.

Today has 24 hours. Plan it well. Love your family and friends, but your goals need your time and effort too. 

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Blueberry Muffins and Obedience

Today has been routine, blueberry muffins (and scrambled eggs and sausage patties) then church.

My mood was and is still a little blue after yesterday’s slam event (I Quit). But life has a way of giving me dots to connect (regular readers understand that reference). The message today was about obedience. This post is not about the sermon, it is about this life.

Obedience: noun

1 a: an act or instance of obeying

   b: the quality or state of being obedient

*from Merriam-Webster.

First topic, writing, especially poetry but also any goal someone is pursuing. We understand the work it takes to pursue any goal. The dedication, the time, and the energy it takes. Even with the talent and work ethic, success is not guaranteed. But some form of failure seems to be. I think we all understand this concept, so let’s go deeper and bring in obedience.

“The quality or state of being obedient.” How is this connected to following a dream? Might be an unpopular take but I believe that our goals and dreams are part of who we are. In all our shades of colors, we are here to live a life driven by our goals. Of course they change as we grow, as we learn, and as we fail. And yes, others have the same goals. I can’t even imagine how many people want to be a poet… but they can’t write my poems.

Being obedient to a dream is to be true to ourselves.  To give our life the authority of creating our everydayness. Yesterday (and still a little today), I felt like giving up on poetry, on writing. But I actually have a rough draft of a poem already on paper…

Poetry is not something I do

It is who I am

Do you not understand?

I understand, too well, that following a goal is not so easy, that our everyday life is filled with decisions and the welfare of other people. That we have in our hearts a collection of desires and hopes. There are moments when our dreams are in conflict with each other, and we have to make a choice. Which dream do we obey?

Obedience is not giving away our power, it is fulfilling what our life should be. We can rebel, I can quit writing. I can ignore the muse when it strikes. I did not have to write this blog post. You, reader, would have never known I was rebelling. Rebelling against who I am… but that’s not being REAL. (My word for the year.)

What about the muffins? Faithful readers know the role of making muffins on Sunday for my family. It is also an act of obedience. Obedience to my dream, my reality of having a loving home, having a tradition that brings us all together as much as possible. A dream I try to be obedient to every day.

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I Quit

I just spent almost two hours on the road thinking about how to write this post. I was traveling back from Lincoln where I competed in a poetry slam. The winner represents the state of Nebraska at the Blackberry/ Peach national slam this summer.

I got last.

That means the judges scored my poem and my performance the lowest out of all the competitors.

Last.

I’ve been working on my delivery, my pauses, my speed and pronunciation of words, especially throughout the whole poem. To speak clearly at the end as I do at the beginning.

I got last.

And right now, when adding other poetic endeavors, I quit.

I have been writing poetry since junior high. I have self published six books of poetry, participated in the April Poem a Day for five years. I have been sharing my works during The Jam, a weekly poetry / spoken word / music space on X for at least 80 some episodes. I have notebooks, post-it notes, and other scrap paper with rough drafts of poems.

Right now, I don’t care. 

The frustration and heartache of trying to be a poet is too much. My confidence is shaken. My chest hurts. This feeling sucks. It seems that I deal with more negative aspects of chasing this dream than positive moments. My tank is empty.

So, today, I quit.

Now, tomorrow?

Well, that is a different poem.

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Random Life

I usually use Spotify on my walks. Not 100 percent of the time, but mostly. By now you may have seen the AI DJ option. I’m sure you know that the “shuffle” option is not actually random for a playlist. Heck it is not random if you shuffle an artist. Even if you are a true fan, you usually just get the top songs…

AI is telling me what my own musical taste is… and it’s wrong.

Let’s stay with the music first. Jake Peterson in his article “The Reason Spotify Shuffles Aren’t Really Random (and How to Fix It)” says it best, “But most of us use the shuffle feature because we want random songs to play. Intentionally picking only songs that match each other means there are plenty of tracks that never see the light of day, and other songs that play much more frequently.” 

I have over a 1000 CDs, hundreds of cassettes, and my “Just Some Good Songs” playlist on Spotify is 49 hours long. 

Do I remember every song I ever heard? No.

Do I own CDs I haven’t listened to for awhile? Yes.  But I have listened to every one of them at least once.

My musical taste is mine. So, when I hit shuffle on a playlist, or an artist, like Prince. I am expecting to hear songs I haven’t heard in awhile. I want to be taken back in time, to remember moments I hadn’t thought of in awhile. I want to be reminded of how great a song is, or to appreciate a song now that I have experienced more in life and the song hits differently.

By default the algorithm is designed to play songs that match together. Joe Fedewa explains how this works in his article, “Why Spotify Shuffle is Not Truly Random”. Basically, Spotify curates the songs in a playlist, trying to keep songs by the same artist spread out and to have songs flow together. So, as Jake Peterson said, you may never hear a song you put on a playlist. A song you like.

The beauty of life is the randomness that happens.

Seeing a bird take flight on my walk.

Trying a new drink at the coffee shop, or the crazy new chip flavor Lay’s comes up with.

Or having a DMX song play after Phil Collins on my walk. That’s who I am, at least musically. AI will never understand that.

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Top 100 Memories

My last music based post was last November (2023). If you are a regular reader you know that my best friend and I are counting down our top 100 songs of all time. Today was number 39. Each day we share a little about why the song is part of the top 100. The coolest part is appreciating the memories that go with the songs. The first concert for my second son, singing in the hallways of high school, playing Nintendo Ice Hockey.

No, I am not going to share all the songs or memories. But it is a Saturday night and it feels like a good time to share a few of the songs from my list, but only the ones that have been shared. (I might do a post about the top 10 when we are done.)

The first song is “The Men Who Drive Me Places” by Ben Rector. (Number 96)

What I love most about this song is the reminder that we all have stories. We all have dreams. Sometimes they come true. Other times, the dreams are partially realized. But we chase them, and along the way we live life with the people we love.

The second song is “Who’s Behind the Door” by Zebra. (Number 82)

Yes, a trip back to the 80s when you would go to a friend’s house to lounge around and listen to music. Zebra was a band we both loved. We would go to the mall to buy their cassettes. And listen to it in his car on the way home. (I did not have a car in high school… that is another story.) I love the idea of what is beyond our world in the song, and the memories of a friendship that has lasted for decades. Side note: if you like live albums, Zebra’s live album is fantastic.

The final song is “I Can See It in Your Eyes” by Men at Work. (Number 47)

Business as Usual by Men at Work was the first cassette I ever bought, and with my own money. I would listen to this album while I played Atari 2600 after school. Centipede was one of my favorite games. Next was Indiana Jones, Raiders of the Lost Ark. The only game I ever finished. I kept dying on the last level of Frogger. Back to the music, this is one of those rare cases that I like the album songs more than the radio hits. This song is a unique look at the end of a relationship and the passing of time. Their music has always been original and I have been a fan for a long time.

The bittersweet aspect of listening to the soundtrack of my life is knowing that all I have now is the memories. After all the events over the past year, I can’t lie that I wish I could somehow go back and relive some of the best moments of my life. I know the future has joyful moments to come, but still… 

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Blueberry Muffins and the Top 100 Songs of All-Time

My best friend and I have been sharing our top 100 favorite songs of all-time in countdown style since January 1st. We share one song each day with a quick insight on why the song was chosen. Usually we send the song info each morning. Today was no different. (Today was number 59, “A Different Corner” by George Michael for me. For my best friend it was Jane’s Addiction, “Summertime Rolls”)

I sent my text as I was waiting for the oven to preheat. The muffin pan was filled with the paper muffin cups. Coffee was about halfway done. A regular Sunday morning vibe. I smiled as I sent my song because I remembered the music video we made for my song. We filmed my reflection in a closet mirror as I sat backwards on a kitchen chair… where was TikTok when I was a teen? 

Over the last month it has been a musical journey sharing my list with my best friend. Yes, many of the songs are connected to our friendship, but others are soundtracks to other times in our lives. My best friend has songs from obscure artists that he has seen in concert. I have songs that I sing along to with my daughters. It is fun to continue to learn more about my best friend. It has also been good to remember the better moments in my life. 

Good moments like blueberry muffins on Sunday morning.

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19536

Last school year I poured a total of 19,536 ice cubes into water bottles every morning. It is part of our family routine. My wife and I get up about an hour before we wake the kids. I make lunches and fill water bottles with ice and water (if it is a reading camp day, then Gatorade or something like that). 

As a dad I have poured 214,896 ice cubes into water bottles for my kids. This is a very conservative number because it does not include any sporting events, and is based on last year when I filled only three water bottles. There were years when I had four, even five water bottles to fill in the morning. (If you’re wondering, yes I counted the ice cubes on Monday as I poured them into a water bottle… whatever it takes for a blog post.)

Why am I writing about this? 

Let me see if I can connect the dots. First, our lives are actually filled with small things that add up to some big numbers… I don’t think I can even calculate how many times I have heard a basketball hit a gym floor… Just this week we watched seven basketball games. And we have another game tonight. Add all the games my son’s played during their school days and the number is unbelievable. 

How many pieces of toast have I eaten in my lifetime?

How many M&M’s or pieces of popcorn have you eaten in your lifetime?

How many brush strokes have you used to clean your teeth?

Crazy to think about. There are so many parts of our daily life that seem insignificant, yet add up.

We live about 2.5 billion seconds (based on average life expectancy).

Crazy to think about.

Our lives have important moments: state basketball games, first day of school, a wedding. But what we spend most of our time doing is living with small elements in this world that add up to determine the quality of our life. 

Tomorrow morning I don’t have to pour about a hundred ice cubes into three water bottles. But I will, and I will do it again next week. Each week adds up to over 500 ice cubes.

Why? Because I want to spend a few seconds doing something that shows my children I love them. 

I probably will have some popcorn tonight while watching one of my daughters play basketball. My ears will be filled with the dribbling of basketballs but my heart will beat with the joy of being a dad.

I’ll brush my teeth tonight, then kiss my wife goodnight. In those last moments before sleep, I will be happy with the way I spent 86,400 seconds.

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If this is the end…

What would I say? 

Who would I want to hear my last words? 

Would I write a poem? 

A blog post?

Would I be able to say or write anything if I knew it was the end?

I think I would want to see the stars one last time, that’s for sure.

But I’m 99.9% sure this is not the end. That I will get up tomorrow morning, get ready for work, fill my daughters’ water bottles, maybe make lunch (at the time of writing this they are going to eat hot lunch tomorrow). On the way to work my wife will get her Mocha Sea Salt Caramelicious blender. I will teach, eat lunch, teach some more, then head home. Depending on the night we might head to an activity, make dinner, or take one of the kids to a practice. I might wash dishes, or sit down to write with a cup of coffee (which I have next to me as I write). To finish off the day, I will read (reading Fairy Tale by Stephen King right now), brush my teeth, take my blood pressure pill and head off to bed.

Then repeat…

…unless…

…unless, this is the end.

I would like you, reader, to know that it has been a blessing to share my writing with you. To share my joys and heartbreaks.

I would want my family and friends to know I love them and that this life is beautiful underneath all the hate, trouble, and selfishness it seems to wrap itself in.

I would like people to remember my writing and the depth I tried to live my life. This life is the closet thing to heaven I’ve ever found.

But it is not the end… but I’m going to do a little stargazing after posting this blog. 

I’m also going to make sure to tell people I love them before I go to bed. You never know.

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Survival Mode

I have been in survival mode for some time now. I know it. I know why. I’m tired of feeling hurt. And not just the big moments, the everyday, small nicks are just as bad because they are never ending. Put the moments together and I am tired of having my heart feel raw and bruised.

Survival mode allows me to get up each morning. Allows me to put on a small smile, make my daughter’s lunch, and even enjoy a walk. I can function pretty well in survival mode. I have written some good poetry, played basketball with my daughters last night. I have been happy.

But see survival mode is a hollow chocolate bunny. You know the kind. Candy eyes, big ears, maybe even holding a candy carrot. You know it is going to taste good. Thinking about biting into solid chocolate. But instead the ears crumble between your teeth. There is a soft echo as bits of chocolate fall into the body, landing in the space where the feet are.

The chocolate is still good. But there is a sense of sadness, of disappointment, finding out that there is more air than chocolate to the bunny. The experience is shallow. Over quickly, too, because you are hungry for the full experience of eating chocolate. But wanting the joy in knowing there would be more later. But there isn’t when it is hollow.

Survival mode is a hollow chocolate bunny. Yes, it works. But it can not compete with the delight of taking a full bite of life.

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