The other day I was playing music with a friend who was stressed out. I could tell he was stressed - he performed poorly, and he wasn’t pleasant to be around.  The following day I asked him what stressed him out. He told me that the gig circumstance was not ideal; that the flooring in his house wouldn’t get finished due to COVID; and some other personal issues. Though his situation was far from stress-less, he never intended to come across as a jerk.  Today I realized an important fact - he can only know our intentions and our feelings. We can translate what we know into action, but we can’t actually see what we do. More than that, we can’t control how our behaviors will be perceived. Nor can we control how others will attach their perception of our actions to our character.  How we perceive a situation determines how we feel, our intentions, and our actions.  How others perceive our actions will have nothing to do with our situation. It will have everything to do with how they see our character.Ever try to show others you’re fine when you’re not using your facial expressions?Ever notice that people somehow know you’re not by reading your face?That is the point - we can only control what we put out to an extent, but we can’t control how it’s seen.

Imagine walking everywhere without shoes. And not just the beach or the park. I’m writing about the pavement, the gravel roads, the stores, and the sidewalks - everywhere. Some people can do it - the ones who did not grow up with shoes. Many of us, and I’m willing to wager you, can’t. Now recall a moment when judged another person because of their shoes. What did you like or dislike about them? What did the shoes tell you about that person? Shoes are interesting to me. To be without them makes us vulnerable to the elements. To have them makes us vulnerable to the judgment of others. And who enjoys being vulnerable 24/7? We turn to shoes to insulate us and open up worlds that, without them, might not be possible. Barefooted at the beach and want to cross the gravel parking lot to your car? Put on sandals (shoes). Looking to impress your future boss? Don your pair of Allen Edmonds. Want to buy groceries? No shirt, no shoes, no service. What if we applied the value we place on shoes to other areas of life? Our choices? How we treat others? And - more importantly - how we treat ourselves?HT to Aeon and Randy Laist for the inspiration

On Saturday, June 4, 1938, at 2:40 PM, John Steinbeck wrote in his diary, “if it doesn’t get done, it doesn’t matter.” I read John’s words, and I immediately wanted to write a post about them. But I don’t think his words warrant a comment. Enjoy Steinbeck’s thoughts and make them useful for you.

I’m bred this way - to not let go.  To not let go of the problems that face me.  To not let go of my dreams.To not let go of the issue.  How do I learn to let go?I recently learned a concept about processes. A good process will yield a useful result - even if the result is not intended. Another way to think of it - it’s not about what you do, it’s about how you decide to do it. For me, learning to let go is the same.The process for how to decide to let go.Identify what you’re holding on to and why it’s worth holding on to. Write down what you learned on a piece of paper.Read what you wrote out loud.  Ask yourself, does holding on to this problem help me - and others - understand what my life is for? If the answer is no, then go back to question 1, is it worth holding on to?I have tried to think of an answer if the answer is “yes.” But until now, I have only answered no.

My Mom is an advice bomber.  She doesn’t barrage you, but when she drops a useful tidbit, it’s impactful.  I live with problems that I can control. Sometimes, I don’t. And when I don’t, I make mistakes.  I’ve also learned to hold on to my mistakes. I don’t know if that’s a result of guilt, being Catholic, a repressed Hispanic trait, or being a son - I don’t know! But I am my own worst critic. Who isn’t?  I think no one, but recently I’ve started to consider my Mom the exception - which is a surprise if you know my Mom.  “You need to forgive yourself.“Look, I can engage in self-love all day long. Self-pity? Not my thing. Self-indulgence? Have you seen the custard posts? But, self-forgiveness???! To forgive means to relent anger, to give up resentment, to absolve payment. My existence if about giving in, stepping into, and doing more. How can I do the opposite?

It was one of those moments when I was in the car with Dad.

For the life of me, I can’t remember what we were talking about.

We were on our way to the usual lunch joint - a hole-in-the-wall pub that my Dad proudly brags he’s gone to off and on for 47 years - called the Nashotah Clubhouse. And it was on this drive that he gave me this advice.

If fear is the awareness of danger’s presence, then I am afraid of me.  If I am afraid of sharing my fears with others, then I’m scared of how others will judge me if they were me listening to me.  What about me is so scary? To you - hopefully - nothing.  To me, what scares me is my potential for making change.  That I can change my behavior at any time and do something worth something for you scares me. Because with that change comes expectation, and I could let you down. But what if I set realistic expectations?  I’m a driven, yet relaxed individual, what if my expectations included slack time?  It’s not in me to conform for the sake of it, what if I better stated to others who I was?  As I’m writing to you, I’m feeling the proverbial weight come off my shoulders.What can you do to take the weight off yours?

I believe we’re not honest with ourselves or others about our fears. Why? What do we have to lose by asserting what keeps us up at night? I’ll start. I’m ashamed of how I’ve behaved in the past towards other people and afraid that I’ll behave the same way again. I’m ashamed of the ideas I have that don’t work, and I’m afraid that others will see me as a failure. I’m ashamed of the decisions I made to leave school and choose music, and I am afraid that has pigeon-holed me as a person. I’m ashamed when I’m not able to follow through on a commitment, and I’m afraid that that means that I can’t. I’m ashamed that I can’t seem to forgive myself, and I’m afraid I never will. What keeps me awake is a dangerous combination of shame and fear. Why?

When I was young, my mom would hit me when I was naughty - corporal punishment. I believe many children were raised this way, and I don’t fault my mom.  As a teenager living with bipolar disorder, I turned to violence and aggression to express my anger.  Now, I know productive ways to express my anger. But I don’t always use them at the moment.  Living with bipolar disorder is a challenge. Like Mr. Hyde, it shows its ugly and destructive capabilities at the most inopportune times. And like Mr. Hyde, it feels impossible to control. Combine that lack of control with how violence was introduced to me at a young age, and you’ve got the elements for a perfect storm.  This is not an indictment of my mother. This is a raw entry about a challenge I live with now.  Now that I’ve asserted the challenge, my next step is to ask myself, what am I so afraid of that violence is the answer?

6,000 years ago, we measured time by the phase of the moon. In 1,500 B.C., Egyptians created the sundial. And in the last 10 years, we refer to our smartphones. Remember that the time you have is yours. It’s nobody else’s. You can do with it as you wish. The question never is, how much time do we have left? The question is, what will you do with the moment you’re in?