The Homes I Can Never Go Home To Again

The Homes I Can Never Go Home To Again

Ruben’s Atomic Chicken Fingers!

I unexpectedly found myself back in an area I briefly lived in about 30 years ago. A break in the meeting schedule and I was free to roam around for a few hours and I spontaneously decided to retrace some footsteps I had left three decades earlier.

Driving around brought me back mentally and emotionally. I even found a Spotify playlist of 1990’s alt-rock and grunge to bring me back even further. Salem to Nashua via Rte 111. Much was the same. Much was different. I knew I was different, much different than who I was back when I first traveled these roads those many years ago.

And then I remembered Ruben’s Atomic Chicken Fingers.

The more youthful me would find himself many a night belly to the bar at Shorty’s Mexican Roadhouse, never a need to review their rather extensive menu. I knew what I was there for, and the only question was for how many.

Lightly breaded, deep fried chicken fingers served with a sweet-yet-hot thick and sticky dipping sauce, the sweetness lowering your guard making it easy for the heat to find its way down the back of your throat. A cold beer at the ready and at that moment everything was perfect with the world.

I found my way into Shorty’s once again and at the same bar I excitedly ordered the same Atomic Chicken Fingers and I was ready to pick up where I had left off. But one bite in and I realized something had changed. 

And it wasn’t the chicken fingers.

I’d always heard you can’t go home again. I understood that to mean time inevitably changes what home had always been. What was simply no longer existed as it was. But at the bar, I realized the only thing that had changed was me. I couldn’t go back to what was because I was no longer who I was. It wasn’t the food. It wasn’t the bar. 

It was me. 

I outgrew the memories.

I was the reason why I couldn’t go “home” again.

There is a perceived comfort of going home again, even if home wasn’t a very comfortable place to be. But it’s familiar, predictable, and known which tempts us to want to relive and cling to and even slightly revise the narrative to accommodate what we may have wished home actually was. 

But you can’t really go back because you’re no longer who you were when you were originally there.

I appreciate all the homes I can never go home to again. The physical and the emotional. They were important parts of who I was, foundational building blocks of who I am. But who I will become? That needs me to allow myself to outgrow myself, to not let the lure of the certainty of the past prevent me from moving forward into the uncertainty of the future.

The past had its place, but it’s no place to live. It served its purpose, it was an important teacher, but holding on to our yesterdays weakens our grip on our tomorrows. 

When we create an emotionally clear space to grow, it’s likely we will do so.

Photo by Victor Bouton on Unsplash

The Self-Inflicted Pain Of Self-Discovery

The Self-Inflicted Pain Of Self-Discovery

My ego was far more ready than my body was when I joined 1,500 other runners participating in a local half marathon a few years back. An avid and seasoned 5k runner, the jump up to the 13.1 mile distance was going to be a huge challenge. And quite a challenge it was. 

I wasn’t in it to win it. I was there to push myself harder than I’ve ever pushed myself before, six month past my 59th birthday. I’d never come close to running a race of this distance, but I signed up for it anyway just to see if I could find my way to the finish line. And eventually I did.

It wasn’t pretty. It’s wasn’t enjoyable.

But it told me something about myself.

In a life which often presents us with hard things, I guess I’ve become quite willing to inflict hard things upon myself. Challenging, uncomfortable, even painful things, things that force me to dig deep and endure and rise above the self-inflicted pain of self-discovery.

It’s in the doing of hard things that I am reminded of my ability to deal with hard things. That the resistance builds my resilience, a resilience which expands my capacity and confidence to better handle the times when life does present us with those unwanted yet inevitable hard things.

The half marathon certainly broke my body. But in that brokenness I learned it would take more than that to break me.

Growth is hard, be it physical, mental, or spiritual. It requires a willingness to become uncomfortable, to push beyond the limitations we have accepted, and in doing so the process will remind us of a self-resiliency we may have long forgotten or doubted we ever had in the first place.

Growth is inconsistency incremental, never linear, often frustrating. Paradoxically, though, it’s our commitment to grow which creates our capacity to grow and the ability to overcome the challenges of becoming more aligned with the person we know we were created to be.

Photo by Pedro Sanz on Unsplash

The Unspoken Energy Of Gratitude

The Unspoken Energy Of Gratitude

If you give me a moment I can easily provide you with a list of things in my life I wish were better, different, or unwanted. Of expectations unmet, of needs unfulfilled, of frustrations silently churning within.

But I’d rather tell you what’s going right.

Life lets us decide what we will focus on. It lets us decide how we will define the moments of our life. I can see the darkness or I can choose to see the light. I can see what’s missing, or I can see all the good that I already have.

I can be grateful for all I have. I can be equally grateful to be able to see what I feel is wrong and I can be grateful for my ability to change my perceptions accordingly.

There is an unspoken energy of gratitude. It changes me. It centers me. It soothes me. It brings me back to me, the real me who can see the blessings hidden in plain sight, blessings I’d often be too emotionally discombobulated to ever see.

Too busy looking for what’s always been right in front of me.

I’m grateful I’ve gotten to this point in my life.

Photo by Bernd 📷 Dittrich on Unsplash

Moving Beyond The Easy, The Convenient, And The Good Enough

Moving Beyond The Easy, The Convenient, And The Good Enough

I didn’t like the process, but I loved the results.

The prep for a routine medical procedure included the elimination of some of my favorite foods for a week ahead of my appointment. It wasn’t quite fasting, but it might as well have been given what was on the list of foods I could eat.

A week later, I was surprised to feel so much better.

Many of those favorite foods were nothing more than habitually consumed foods, favorites by default based upon the frequency of indulgence. Easy, convenient, and good enough, three attributes you’d never use to describe a healthy relationship.

With food or with people.

My mini cleanse was an opportunity to reset what I was consuming, a chance to take a break from and to re-evaluate what I was willing to put into my body. An opportunity to make decisions more intentionally aligned with the healthier vision I have for myself and less out of habit.

I’ve been cleansing other parts of my life as well. My energy. My tribe. What I am willing to tolerate. What I’m no longer willing to accept.

Stepping back we may find we’ve become consumers of a great deal of toxicity in the world we’ve built around us, a world built more out of habit and less out of intention. We can see where we’ve habitually chosen the easy, the convenient, and the good enough relationships, opportunities, and situations which have left us feeling sluggish and diminished, emotionally winded and lethargic.  

Life has repeatedly shown me that in every moment we get to decide if we are willing to perpetuate what is or willing to forge a different, more authentic path forward. We can either feed the habits which leave us vibrationally hungry or cleanse ourselves of the toxins which poison the path on our way to becoming who it is we are willing to become.

The moment is awaiting your decision.

Photo by Jametlene Reskp on Unsplash

Deciding To Smile Anyway

Deciding To Smile Anyway

Though he’s never spoken a word to me, his presence is a source of daily inspiration.

He’s been sitting in my garden for a few years now. Indifferent to the rain, snow, heat, or the cold, he just sits there. Smiling and laughing, without a care in the world.

I guess it’s pretty easy to not have a care in the world when you’re six inches tall and made out of concrete. And that’s exactly what he is, my cracked yellow Buddha, a small piece of statuary I found on a dusty shelf at a local closeout store. Cracked, because he’s been exposed to years of wet winter weather. Yellow, because I painted him in a failed attempt to protect his porous surface from the wet winter weather. 

There’s something wonderfully imperfect about a cracked, yellow Buddha. Maybe that’s what Continue reading “Deciding To Smile Anyway”

Great Years Don’t Happen On Their Own

Great Years Don’t Happen On Their Own

He spoke with Biblical certainty.

“This is my year.”

It’s not uncommon to hear such bold declarations at the beginning of a new year. A brand new start, a clean slate, where anything feels possible and this guy was all in on that.

I hope this is his year.

In my life I’ve had those years that were definitely mine. Big years, significant years where outcomes vastly exceeded expectations leaving me feeling bullet proof and invincible. I’ve also had those years when I was a suck magnet where any optimism and enthusiasm I may have had at the start of the year was quickly beaten out of me.

I always hope each of my years will be good ones. But I’ve also learned to accept my responsibility in making a year a good one.

Experience and introspection tell me every year has been my year. Every year has been filled with opportunities to grow and to evolve and to become. In those big, significant years, I showed up for the opportunities I was presented with. I was intentional and deliberate. I wasn’t willing to Continue reading “Great Years Don’t Happen On Their Own”

The Life You Decide To Live

The Life You Decide To Live

A pie eating contest, winning a stuffed pig at a carnival, and running a seven mile road race.

What do they all have in common?

Intention.

Scrolling through my photos from the past 12 months I was reminded of some of the interesting things I did this year. Some big things, some small things, some new things, some familiar things.

If I didn’t show up for them they never would have happened for me.

As a recovering “hoper and wisher”, I know the good stuff in life seldom just shows up no matter Continue reading “The Life You Decide To Live”

If Water Was Time

If Water Was Time

As a kid, you never thought about how much water was in the glass. You just drank from it. Never worried if you spilled or wasted any of it. There was always more. The supply was abundant and seemingly infinite.

I’ve never been concerned whether my glass was half full or half empty. I just wanted to know how much was in the glass. If water was time, at my age I know most of the water in the glass of my life has already been consumed. And with that awareness, I’ve become much more intentional when taking sips of time from the glass of my life. 

The circle has gotten smaller, the superficial has been discarded, the drama gets left behind, creating space for depth, substance, purpose, and expression.

I’ve become extremely protective of that space.

We really never know how much is left in the glass, do we?

I don’t intend on wasting a single drop.

Photo by Paul Lichtblau on Unsplash

The Life Defining Decision

The Life Defining Decision

“Perhaps it’s an age thing?” 

That was the unexpected response I received when I attempted to explain what could best be described as a life reset process I’ve found myself experiencing. Turning 60 a few years ago I’ve found myself re-evaluating my life priorities. What really matters? Who really matters? How I spend my time and who I spend my time with. Yes, maybe it was an “age thing”, but it served as a catalyst for me deciding to become far more aware and intentional about my life.

Sometimes the demands of family and work responsibilities don’t allow much time to live a more priority-driven life. But that big birthday felt like a wake up call of sorts, with life nudging me to re-evaluate just about every aspect of my life. Not because I had a bad life, but because I wanted to make sure the life I was living moving forward was aligned with the life I truly wanted to live.

As we age we strive to take better care of ourselves physically to ensure our mobility and flexibility. We exercise and we feed our bodies what it needs to be healthy. But how often do we give ourselves an inner check-up in order to better understand how to take better care of ourselves emotionally?

I’ve collected a great deal emotional baggage over the past six decades. The inevitable peaks and valleys of life have shaped me and influenced my life outlook and expectations. As I now move forward in life, much of my re-evaluation process involves looking more closely at those outlooks and expectations. If my past has the power to influence my future, shouldn’t I decide what from my past I want to take with me into my future?

My attitudes, mindsets, beliefs, and habits have all gotten me to where I am today. But are those Continue reading “The Life Defining Decision”