I'm sitting in front of a large swimming pool watching my
daughter swim; separated by a 1/2 inch piece of plexiglass. She swims from one
end of the pool to the other as she practices different skills and drills shouted
out by her instructors. This is how I have spent my Saturday mornings for the
past few months. This is also when I have a tendency to write. I would say that
my eyes lock in on my daughter 60% of the time, while the other 40% is spent
looking at the screen and fixing the words that I typed without looking. Yes,
most of my blogs and words that are to be put into this book were written on my
iPhone. Authors in LA and New York sit behind a laptop in coffee shops all day.
I type on my iPhone while watching my 8 year old do the backstroke.

 

Why during swim class? Maybe it's the smell of the
chlorine or that this is one of the few times I am completely alone.  I can hear the voices of other parents and
the chatter of other kids waiting for their swim group to be announced, but
overall the room is pretty quiet. There is almost a soothing hum in the room
that I assume comes from all the equipment that runs the system for the pool.
Regardless, I feel inspired and alone here; regardless of the 20 other people that
are seated around me. Same goes for when I write at the airport. I'm surrounded
by the energy of people and noises, but not distracted by conversations. I come
up with lots of ideas in the shower too, but blogging in the shower isn’t really
an option.  Being alone is a good thing
for inspiration and clearing your mind of distractions, but sometimes those
distractions keep us from dwelling on certain things. Not necessarily terrible
things, but for many of us, painful things.

 

If you have followed any moments of my life or read my
last book or even some of the blogs, you'll see me occasionally reference my
brother Michael. He passed a while back and although time heals most pain, it
certainly doesn't completely remove it. Nor should it. When he died and all the
feelings and emotions were fresh, I did a lot to stay busy. Busy hands and busy
minds keep us distracted from dwelling on the pain. Eventually you will have to
cope and confront that pain, but allowing yourself some time to process and
digest it in smaller amounts makes it easier to swallow. We buried him on mine
and my wife's 13th anniversary because that's just how it had to work out. I
spent that week building a cocktail arcade system for my wife and the confusion
and frustration of that project kept me from having to deal with everything all
at once. (If you don't swear and drink while building something, you're doing
it wrong).  So yes, my anniversary will
always have a double meaning.  It is what
it is, but at least I'll be able to remember the date 40 years from now.

 

When Michael had quiet and alone time, he struggled. Not
always, but enough to mention. Sometimes he would drink the time away. Other
times he would call everyone in his phone, sometimes more than once in a day,
just to keep from doing destructive things or activities that would not be
considered the most positive.  He was not
always good with what many of us call our "me" time. I've said it
before, but he was a better friend to others than they were to him or he was to
himself.

 

How are you spending your "me" time?  Are you using these moments to heal your
mind, create or better yourself?  I'm not
talking about your down time where you binge watch bad TV shows on Netflix or
watch 6 hours of the cooking channel as you lay on the couch, too lazy to
change the channel or get up to pee. I'm talking about those minutes in the day
where you have a moment to yourself to reflect on life and the contributions
you are making to the world. You know, those “who am I and why am I here” kind
of moments. Could be 5 minutes. Could be in the 30 minute commute. The quiet
time where you are stuck with yourself and your thoughts.  For some, these moments can be scary.  They can force you to face things you don’t
want to process.   

 

I'll be more specific. When I am given this time, I often
think about my brother Michael. I think about our conversations. The stories.
The jokes and the unique way he and I communicated. A form of communication
that died when he died. I don't dwell on the negatives because nothing healthy
comes of it. I think about the good things. I focus on the positive things I
can contribute to my life and the world around me.  I think about how I can pick up on the good
things he did and carry them with me.  I
think about how I can do right by the people he loved and cared about-no matter
how challenging that may be.  I think
about the need for me to be better.  Yes,
better. 

 

You see, every day, I am given a choice. I spend over an
hour of my day in the car, driving back and forth to work and I make the best
of it.  This time allows a true
#Tryharder moment.  Instead of allowing
the moments of my life, that I have no control over, consume me and possibly
scar or warp my thoughts; I choose to focus on healthy and controllable things.  I can control being better. I'm not being
glib and I am not prime for a midlife crisis fueled by not living in reality.
Each day I am given a choice and I choose to contribute and be positive. I
choose to make the best of what I have in the present and the best with the
remaining memories I have of my childhood. I choose to take better inventory of
my day and make sure that I am applying energy towards the people and things I
can influence in my life. I choose to #Tryharder and hopefully you do as well.
Make the best use of your time on this earth, do right by those in your life
and those you have lost along the way. Be better. Don't let your reflection
time sour your outlook on life or allow you to create crutches or self-imposed
mental and physical roadblocks.

 

They say it takes more muscles to frown than it does to
smile. Choose to smile.