Built With Patience And Love

After building it decades ago, I still used it. It was tipped on its side in a corner of the garage and was still being used to store stuff. Every time my wife Amy and I were in the garage working out, I'd look at it and think someday I'll refinish it. Our garage is part guest room/office, part gym, storage area, and where I drum; we haven't parked a car in there for a long time. 

Over the years when I looked at it sitting on its side in the corner, I sometimes wondered why I still had it -- a wooden cabinet I had made in woodshop way back in 7th grade. As I wrote last year, I don't remember exactly why I took woodshop in 7th grade, but it was probably because my dad worked with wood and built furniture, toys, and other things. When I was a teen, our home garage was full of table saws, circular saws, jigsaws, and so many other woodworking tools.

So, I took woodshop in junior high and made a cabinet. An actual working cabinet with shelves and hinged doors. It took a lot of patience, and sweat, and yes, I guess a lot of love. Now that I think about it, I never wanted to get rid of it over the years. Again, I wanted to refinish it at some point, and I finally am now.

Because we're creating a sun room out of our back porch, Amy mentioned we could put my old wooden cabinet out there if I really wanted to refinish it. Dig it out of the shadowy corner in the garage, sand and stain it, and actually use it again as it was intended to be used in its refreshed glory. A second life of sorts. What is old is new again.

This is important to me because sometimes I feel I have no control over anything in this world. And with my business struggling right now, I feel like a failure and that I won't be able to provide for my family. That I should've done this or I should've done that instead of where I'm at today.

But that's hogwash, because I actually do have more control over what I do right this very minute. And the next. And the next. Amy and I meditate daily and those meditations remind us that we're a universe of endless possibilities and that we are always good enough. This is exactly where I'm supposed to be, and my wife and children love me and are supportive and proud of me, just as I am of them. Sure, I have no idea what will happen tomorrow or in the next six months, but again, this very moment is mine, as is the next one, and the next. 

I posted the picture of my old cabinet I'm now refinishing and someone commented, "Pretty cool you still have it! You must have made it really well!" While someone else posted, "Old world craftsmanship -- it's nice how things hold up over time when they are built with patience and love."

Patience and love. Amen. I've never really given myself enough credit for the things I've done throughout my life. Of what I've overcome to get here and where I'm going. Of endless possibilities. I built that cabinet nearly 45 years ago, and while it wasn't really all that elaborate of a design, it was simple and sturdy and still standing today. All because it was built with patience and love when I was 13 years old. That's why today when I do have moments of self-doubt and feel like a failure, they are fleeting, because Amy and I have built our family on a foundation of patience, love, and infinite potential. 

Let that be a lesson to you, kids. Blessings to us all.

The Greatest Reward of All

Watching his grown daughter congratulate him for all his hard work and success, and thank him for pushing her to always do her best, to being such a positive supporter of her life and life choices, made me think of what that might look like someday with our own daughters. 

One of my dear friends from high school recently retired. At least, from the career he had for decades at the same company, which isn't as common as it used to be, not with average tenures, even with promotions, being much shorter. 

This friend listened to me provided with with supportive counsel during some very dark times my senior year in high school. He's one of a handful of people who have kept our collective friendships going for over 40 years. The last time we were all together was early 2020, pre-covid, and I couldn't wait to see them all when we were invited to his retirement party with his family and colleagues. We've put the work in to sustain and grow our friendships over the years, so it was a pleasure to be with most of them again. 

Listening to his daughter speak about her father gladdened by heart. My wife Amy sat next to me and I thought about how we've put the work into our relationship. How we've been loving and supportive of each others ups (and downs), of our careers and life choices, of how we manage our emotions and positive communication every day and encourage our daughters to do the same. How we're positive supporters of their lives and life choices. We're still the parents, and they're still the children, with us imparting parental guidance and positive discipline when necessary; we want them to ultimately live their best lives as adults. 

Because we live our best lives every single day, and even when self-doubt creeps in, as it has for me lately, we choose empathy and love over cynicism and self-criticism in our personal and professional lives. Because for us, the professional and personal are inextricably linked. 

And the reality is that things don't always go as we've planned. Like programs I've developed for the organization I run that I was so sure about that just didn't take off. Personal writings that I share each week that I feel just don't resonate with anyone. The cynicism and self-criticism creeps in. That's what I've been struggling with lately. 

But I still put in the work to work through it because the work never ends. There's a new song from the band Twenty One Pilots that I love called Mulberry Street. There's a lyric in it that goes "keep your bliss, there's nothing wrong with this, we just want to feel it all." That truly hits the mark for me these days. 

Feeling failure on any level isn't an endgame; how it's perceived and processed inside is what can bring a new framing. One that should lead to looking at the why upside-down and then trying again right-side up. That's part of doing the work; there's nothing wrong with feeling this way or that. As long as you feel it all and enrich yourself with what's next. 

Keep your bliss, there's nothing wrong with this, we just want to feel it all.

Someday when our daughters are grown they will congratulate us for doing the work, keeping our bliss and for empowering them to do the same, and that legacy will be the greatest reward of all.