Never having worked in the lead or "director's position" at any children's summer camp, I bought my own at age 30. When I look back at it, I think I rushed into it. "Opportunity! Gotta take it." I jumped in with both feet and without much direction. I'm not sure why I felt rushed. Something about, "I've got value. I want to do something meaningful with my life. I'm worth more than this assistant director position is offering. I'm eager. Seeking. Excited. I might as well start now. Let's go!" 

When I look back, I wonder why I felt rushed. With whom, or against what, was I racing? Time? Others? Myself? Status? Levels of influence? Another young, successful celebrity on social media?    I'm not entirely sure. 

In hindsite, I wish someone would have come along side and encouraged me to "just breathe." Relax and breathe.

I wish they would have said, "Watch it all come to you. It will. Just keep taking steps." But no one did. So I jumped, pushed and pressed and made my lists and calls. Fought the anxiety. Hiding all my fears and self-consciousness. All in an effort to meet the goals, make the sale and exceed the expectations. 

But for whom...and for what reason?

I don't regret that decision. I don't regret any decision I've made. But every decision produces a deep or shallow learning curve. I feel most of my "learning curves" have been Grand Canyon deep and Atlantic Ocean wide.

So I guess I've learned a bit.

Thirty years ago I was still waking up with a stirring in my stomach. I feel better now (most mornings). But each morning, and after all those hours of subconscious, uncontrolled brain activity, I wake to the same immediate (lightly crazy) thought, 'what should I be doing today?' I then back myself away from the cliff, breathe, and start the day over, "Thanks God for Jennfer, the kids, our health and home. I'm fortunate." The muscles in my neck and back relax. I get up and make our bed. Then start.

Much of my life has felt like a training run. No one wants to be viewed as the guy struggling. In the old days, they left those guys behind. Most likely to be eaten by bears. No wonder no one wants to be him. So on a run, when someone drives by, I still find myself trying to run a little faster. Picking my head up. Trying to look strong. But when I'm alone in the dark (as I was early this morning), nothing really matters. I'm only running, feeling, experiencing, enjoying...just these moments. And it's much more joyful.

Why not be the relaxed, comfortable person running in the dark all day long? Just breathe and do your thing. We're more productive in that element. More efficient. Less worried and concerned. 

I often wonder why I only get grade alerts from our kids' school for a lower grade. It always heightens my stress and concern. It does the same to them. Why not set the system to alert me for a job well-done? Not only the A or B, but also a kind remark to a student or teacher...or the extra effort given.

Why not train young people on positive motivation, encouragement and their own strengths rather than on "if you don't pick it up soon you'll most likely be eaten by a bear." Why does it feel we're playing defense so much of our lives?  Games are won moving the ball down the field. A remarkable defensive effort will leave you with a tie game at the very best. Why not encourage forward movement by reinforcing the positive aspects of the last 5 yard gain? Rather, we're chewed on for the smallest issues that aren't "just right." The yellow flag that leaves the officials hand when we're an inch off-sides. I wonder if that player had a strong desire to create that penalty...or if he, perhaps, just made a mistake? Cue the hungry bear! 

So relax. Find a place to breathe. Get away from the stuff, the things, the distraction, the pressure. It will all be ok. 

Find a way to put everything your parents taught you in a cabinet for a while. (For the record, moms and dads, we don't raise kids. We "raise" cattle and sheep. We cultivate kids. They're doing their own thing. So kids, start thinking for yourself. You're capable, and I believe in you. So go give me something to believe in.)

In the end, everything that is intended to come to me has come. More will arrive in due time. The next arrival has begun to come in at Lone Oak. I see it arriving and in all areas of my life. I'll continue to work toward finding balance with my persistence and patience. 

Today, I'm just breathing. Finding a flow. There is nothing perfect about my life, but it also seems so perfect. 

I read the other day about 2 human characteristics that tend to eliminate our quality of life: Our memory and our imagination. 

Our memory has us living in the past (a space we cannot do anything about. Pain. Regret. Hurt.). And our imagination that keeps us wondering and worrying about the future (a place we have yet to arrive and have limited control).

What about this very moment? The present. I'd prefer to enjoy it.

Remain encouraged,

Brian