Well, today is the day. The cultural event where millions of people are unified in celebration of what many have called the biggest secular holiday in the United States, and possibly the world. 

Of course, I’m referring to my birthday. I’m not sure how I’ll mark the occasion, but perhaps there will be something interesting to watch on TV? 🏈 #SuperbOwl

It’s true; as of today, I am 48 years old. Is that old? It feels kinda old, but still a few years shy of fifty, so that’s something. I do relate to Margaret Atwood who believed, “Everyone else my age is an adult, whereas I am merely in disguise.” I now have peers who have died of “natural causes,” serving as a sobering reminder that time is ticking. In some respects, I’m nowhere near where I thought I’d be, but on the other hand, I’m surprised—in a good way—about how everything has turned out so far.

I always love reading when people I admire share “X Things I’ve Learned in X Years of Life” on their birthdays, so I thought it might be fun to do that.

Oh, and instead of gifts, the best present you can give me is to share my work with someone else. If you know someone who might resonate with these words, please send them to this page (https://EscapeAdulthood.com/Insider) and invite them to subscribe. Thanks!

1. We were all experts once.
   
2. We all live by rules that don’t exist. There are a million of these rules. The best lives seem to be lived by the ones who break a lot of them.
   
3. You can follow best practices or you can be innovative, but you can’t do both.
   
4. Every single day is a reason to celebrate; it’s just that most days what to celebrate is up to us.
   
5. Life should get more fun as you get older, not less. You know more things, have more money, and can make more decisions on your own. Instead of living life with a big box of 64 crayons at our disposal, we regularly settle for the wimpy 8-pack, with the red, blue, and green crayons replaced with gray, beige, and mauve.
   
6. You can’t control what happens to you in life, you can only control how you react to it. This is a superpower few take advantage of.
   
7. Opportunities are everywhere in life. Sometimes they come disguised as monsoons. The next time a storm blows through your life, ask yourself, “Now that this has happened what does this make possible?” Do that, and you can expect a 100% chance of awesome.
   
8. The secret to (lasting) success in absolutely everything is this: do hard things. We waste a lot of time trying to find a shortcut around it, but none exists.
   
9. The only thing straight A’s tell you with certainty about a person is that they are good at school.
   
10. Your big dream will take longer than you think. It will also look different than you imagined. But it will be better and it will be worth it.
    
11. It’s easy to justify the lack of time we spend with loved ones by saying we have quality time together. Bulls#!t. Our relationships need quantity time. We assume that Hallmark moments can be created at will within the tiny slivers of time we carve between meetings, power lunches, recitals, soccer games, conference calls, and commutes to and from school and daycare. The busier you are and the more full your schedule, the more desperately you need this to be true. Quality time comes from quantity time.
    
12. It’s a waste of time to whine about and wish for someone else’s must be nice. Your job is to figure out yours and make the most of it.
    
13. The greatest ​game​ ever played was on a Wednesday in Cleveland.
    
14. If you say that you’re an artist, but aren’t making art, you’re not. (Replace the word “artist” with whatever you claim to be.)
    
15. Be careful how you define success. If you’re not careful, you can get duped into playing a game you don’t even care about and end up making choices that distract you from a game that does. Tiger Woods never beat himself up for not having as good a free throw percentage as Steph Curry. Get really clear on what game you’re playing. And don’t beat yourself up for being in last place in the games you’re not.
    
16. We act like the game of life is to check off as many things on our to-do list as possible. That’s the wrong game.
    
17. If God was as serious as some people imagine him to be, we’d never have the duck-billed platypus, giraffes, or Elton John.
    
18. Are kids the cause of or the cure for Adultitis? Turns out the answer is entirely up to you.
    
19. The most important thing you can do for the health and happiness of your family is to have dinner together. Dare to be the only house on the block to all be home for a family dinner five nights a week.
    
20. Some parents are verbs, some are nouns. There are way too many nouns.
    
21. Don’t let strangers be the main influencers in your child’s life.
    
22. Set aside one day a week to be free from all work and busyness, just spending time with your God and your family. No, the world might not be too keen about you dropping off the radar, but you know what? It’s not the world’s choice. It’s yours. The world is not the boss of you.
    
23. Sometimes we have to say no to the good to say yes to the best.
    
24. What good is the authority of parenthood if all you ever do is make rules? It’s easy for good parents (and teachers) to get so caught up in enforcing rules that they forget that they have permission to break them once in a while.
    
25. Monday’s don’t suck. It’s your job. We don’t hate work. We hate doing work that doesn’t matter. If you’re always thanking God for Friday, it might be time to make a change.
    
26. Many well-intentioned parents, grandparents, and teachers urge kids to get a job with good benefits. I couldn’t agree more. Just make sure they’re the ones you really want.
    
27. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, you’re trying to do too much.
    
28. Never let the fear of making a mess get in the way of making a memory.
    
29. We make time for the things that are important to us. If don’t have time for yourself (or your spouse, kids, family, exercise routine, charitable activities, a return to school, or your favorite hobby), it’s because it’s not that important to you. Our actions reveal our priorities.
    
30. Everyone says family first, but few have the actions to back it up.
    
31. There is a very good chance that you—right now—are currently smack dab in the middle of your “good old days.”
    
32. Someday is a code word for never. What are you hoping to do someday?
    
33. Who’s to say what’s realistic? Be careful about what you label as impossible. If a dream is realistic, it’s not really a dream. It’s a to-do.
    
34. It’s true, we are living in uncertain times. But are we ever living in certain times?
    
35. Fancy china is not about what’s on the plates, it’s about who’s around them.
    
36. They don’t hang paint-by-numbers in the Louvre.
    
37. The devil is predictable. He uses the same plays over and over again: distraction, doubt, division, and discouragement. Despite his lack of creativity, he is incredibly effective, and this explains a lot about the current state of our world.
    
38. I don’t think it’s fair that kale is good for you, but Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups taste WAY better.
    
39. Sometimes we get so caught up chasing the next moment that we forget to savor the one we’re in.
    
40. Sometimes we miss the answer to our prayers because we’re looking for it in the wrong place.
    
41. Sometimes your heart has reasons for doing things that take a while for your head to understand.
    
42. Embrace your weird. When we surrender our weird, we are imprisoning ourselves and handing over the key.
    
43. We need each other. Even Einstein wasn’t an Einstein at everything.
    
44. It’s worth remembering that even on the darkest, cloudiest days, the sun doesn’t disappear. It’s still there; it’s just hidden.
    
45. God is creative and He sends creative solutions.
    
46. Don’t be afraid to get your princess dress wet.
    
47. If you’re alive, make sure you’re living.
    
48. Life is like silly putty. Somehow.

🤔 I wonder…which of these most resonated with you?

Life is amazing. It is also hard.

The war against Adultitis is a grueling one that will last your lifetime. But that shouldn’t keep you from trying to soak it with water balloons.

Your happiness depends on it.

Now, you’ll need two things in the fight against Adultitis: water balloons and a wingman.

A Water Balloon is anything joyful that induces playfulness, laughter, merriment, or wonder. The most powerful ones appear frivolous, done for no particular reason other than fun.

My late father-in-law Gary had a long fight with chronic pain. His faith sustained him, along with a diverse array of water balloons to help him fight, such as Chuck Norris jokes, air shows, Ernest movies, and April Fools pranks.

My water balloons include: Dad jokes. My Funko Pop collection. Pajama runs. Dance parties. Photobombing my family’s photos. Watching Parks and Rec re-runs.

A Wingman is someone who encourages you to throw water balloons at Adultitis, and when you do, is at the ready with another one. It’s someone you can be goofy with and have fun with, who doesn’t roll their eyes at your silliness or denigrate the things that light you up.

My wingman is my wife. And my kids. And the members of the Wonder & Whimsy Society.

Sometimes a wingman is hard to come by. One of my favorite things about our tribe of Adultitis Fighters is that it provides a place for people on an island, without a wingman in their immediate vicinity. The Escape Adulthood League is an army of wingmen (and women) with water balloons at the ready.

Not only do we each need a wingman, we are called to be a wingman for others. That’s what this movement we’re building together is about. Every single one of us can encourage others to embrace their inner child. To embrace their guilty pleasures and to celebrate the things that make them weird.

So collect as many water balloons as you can. Summon your wingman.

This is war.

And Adultitis is about to get wet.

🤔 I wonder…who is your wingman, and what is your favorite water balloon?

“Are you making deviled eggs?” he asked the day before Thanksgiving.

“I wasn’t planning on it, but I could. Want me to?” I offered.

“Well, sure if you have time,” he said graciously.

I did. And he appreciated them.

And Ben and I ended up having so much fun, as I taught him how to make this family favorite for my Dad.

I’m grateful for these memories from last year at this time.

This was the beginning of a journal Kim wrote on Thanksgiving, reflecting on how last year was the last time she’d “get to” make her dad deviled eggs. He passed away in January. The “firsts” in our lives get a lot of fanfare, but we don’t often know the last times until they’ve passed us by.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year.

Except when it’s not.

For many people, the loss of a loved one makes this a painful season. Whether this is the first holiday without them or the twenty-seventh, lots of complicated feelings bubble to the surface.

First of all, it’s okay to be sad when everyone (and every song in every store) is urging you to be merry.

And if you know someone who is dealing with loss, I learned a valuable lesson several years ago. Although it may feel kinder to not bring up the person for fear of stirring up painful emotions, it’s often more generous to remember and celebrate them than to pretend like they never existed.

When Kim made deviled eggs this year, she received a tiny heart as she sprinkled on the paprika (see if you can find it in the photo above). And with that, a new tradition is born, giving Gary a permanent place around our Thanksgiving table.

Maybe this is your year to start a new tradition that incorporates the spirit of departed loved ones into your holiday celebrations. Of course, deviled eggs are not a requirement. But did they love candy canes? Maybe add them to your tree this year.

Or maybe you could add an ornament to your Christmas tree that symbolizes their interests, hobbies, or personality. Find or make a new one every year to keep their memory alive.

You could also frame pictures of loved ones and bring them to the dinner table. Include them in your toast, or share a fun story about them over dessert.

Speaking of dessert, was there a certain one they were known for making? (Or devouring?) Make it in their honor.

What if you organized a charitable act in memory of your loved one? This could include volunteering, donating to a cause they cared about, or initiating a community project as a tribute.

One reader shared something she and her great-aunt did after her mom died from cancer. Every month, they would go out to dinner, picking a different place her mom loved or would have loved. They’d share memories and talk about what she would have loved (or hated) about the place and talked about how hard it was that she was gone. It provided them a chance to laugh, to cry, and keep her memory alive, growing closer to each other in the process.

Another cool idea is to create a memory jar where family members and friends can write down their favorite memories of those who have passed. Read these notes together during the holiday season, sharing stories and anecdotes that allow everyone to reminisce and celebrate their lives.

Or take things to the next level and create a time capsule by placing meaningful items or notes into a container each year. Open the capsule during the holidays and reminisce about the treasures inside.

Prefer something simpler and more low-key? Hold a candle-lighting ceremony where each participant lights a candle in memory of the departed loved one. This can be done on Christmas Eve or another significant day.

If you are wrestling with complicated emotions that come from missing someone this time of year, I offer my prayers for peace and comfort. I hope one of these ideas is a catalyst to bring a bit more joy and wonder this holiday season.

I’ll close the way I began, with Kim. Here are a few lines she wrote to her dad:

I’m sure going to miss you at the table this evening. It won’t be the same without you here. But, knowing you’ll be there to welcome me to the heavenly banquet someday brings me a pure paprika heart of joy. I look forward to it!!

I’ll bring the deviled eggs. 💛

The current state of the world is…not great.  

So many of our problems are global, governmental, and systemic, stemming from conflicts spanning thousands of years. Perhaps, like me, you wonder, “What the heck can one person do?”

When I am overwhelmed by an avalanche of things I can’t control, I find it helpful to focus on what I can. And then I came across this quote from St. Teresa of Calcutta:

“If you want to bring happiness to the whole world, go home and love your family.”

Ah, good ol’ Mother Teresa. What a pleasant thought from a sweet old lady beloved the world over. It’s a nice sentiment for a greeting card, but a naive prescription for solving what ails our world.

Well, that’s how it seems, if you didn’t know what a tenacious, uncompromising spark plug she really was.

Of course we love our family, we think. Check. Done. Got it. After patting ourselves on the back for acing a homework assignment from perhaps the greatest saint of the twentieth century, we think, ok, what else?

Buckle up, buttercup. 

We all say we love our family, but do our actions match our words?

• Are you spending real time with your family, or are you spending money to make up for all the times you’re not there?
• Is it quantity time, or just scraps of time here and there you call “quality” time?
  When you are together, how much time do you do what THEY want to do, on their terms?
• How much time do you spend criticizing your spouse or trying to “change” them?
  Do you ever take on some of their household responsibilities to give them a break?
• Do you take out the garbage before your wife has to remind you four times?
• Do you ever give your husband back rubs, or are you too busy pointing out that he forgot to take out the garbage again?
• How protective are you of family dinner time? How many times a week do you eat dinner together?
• If you have children, do you allow them to struggle with hard things, or are you quick to swoop in to help them out of every jam?
• Do they have chores they don’t get paid for?
• How often do you put healthy limits on your kids, and how good are you at holding to them?
• Are you paying attention to who your kids hang out with and what they’re watching?
• How often are you labeled the “mean” parent?
• How often do you sacrifice what you want for the good of your family?

Oof. Suddenly that sweet old lady’s Hallmark card just got real. I don’t know about you, but if I really want to follow Mother Teresa’s advice, I’ve got some work to do.

Please know I’m not being accusatory here, only trying to provide a full picture of what true love looks like. Loving your family well is hard. It goes far beyond providing room and board, buying gifts, and shuttling them to and from myriad obligations.

Heck, I expect if you are a regular reader here, you probably can check off many of these things with confidence. That’s great! If so, let this serve as a reminder that you’re doing good.

Because the world—and Adultitis—will bombard you with reasons you’re not.

It will try to get you to place your attention on your career. Your income. The size of your home. All while convincing you to embrace the mantle of “providing a better life for your family.” It’s not bad to want a better life for your family, as long as it doesn’t come at the expense of loving them well. We do a lot of things “for our family” that if we’re honest, is really more about making us look good.

I got an email from a woman who had a great job at a bank. Then she gave birth to a daughter with health challenges. She made it work for a while, but eventually quit the bank and started an in-home daycare to be with her kids. It came with a pay cut and a plummet in status. Even though she took countless classes and became certified as an early childhood educator, she was often referred to as a “babysitter” by friends and peers. She admitted that she went down the negative road of “what ifs” from time to time. Now that she’s retired, she is grateful for the decision she made and the impact she was able to have in the lives of so many, including her daughter.

Loving your family well isn’t easy. It’s hard and uncomfortable, often bringing feelings of doubt, uncertainty, and fear.

It’s true that you may not be able to make a dent in the policy of global governments.

But it’s also true that no one on Earth can fulfill your mission to love your family.

I suppose it takes a fool to believe that loving your family really can bring happiness to the whole world.

But it would be more foolish not to try.

🤔 I wonder…what hard thing would you add to the list of ways to love your family well?

We offered my daughter a chance to make a million dollars and she turned it down.

OK, “millions” might be stretching it, but adjusted for the economy of childhood, one could make a strong case.

Here’s the story: Virginia Rose drew a picture of an angel for her grandfather during his last days. He displayed it prominently in the hospital and at the hospice center, and it seemed to deeply move everyone who saw it. It became a source of great joy and comfort for him, and he requested that it be placed in his casket at the time of his burial.

A copy made its way to a wall in our kitchen, and Kim and I continued to marvel at its magnetic quality. It inspired us to offer Ginny a unique opportunity. We asked her if we could sell it on our website as a Mini*Print. Our only request was that she donate some of the funds to a charitable cause, but it was up to her to decide on the charity and how much to keep for herself. 

But a few days later, Ginny approached Kim in tears. After some prompting, she revealed that she didn’t want to sell the artwork; that it was Papa’s angel and a gift meant just for him. 

We tried to paint a full picture for her, that maybe Papa would be happy to see her inspire so many others and that perhaps the charity she picked could go to a cause he would have cared about. But in the end, she was resolute.

Although we could overrule her decision, we’ve decided to honor her wishes. Perhaps she will change her mind in the future, but for now, “Ro’s Angel” is not for sale. 

Frankly, it’s not a choice I would’ve made. But I’m proud of Ginny. It takes a strong person to live by their convictions and chart their own path. Kim and I see it as our job to support her on that journey, even if it’s different than the one we’d choose for her.

In a small way, it reminds me of how my parents must have felt when I told them I wanted to pursue a career in art. I was a well-rounded A student; I could have taken any number of more stable and profitable paths. I am sure they were uncertain about my decision and worried about my future. But they supported me every step of the way. Even in the early lean days when things weren’t going especially well, they never once said, “Well you tried, maybe now it’s time to think about getting a real job.”

Unfortunately, not every kid is given this gift. Recently, I’ve witnessed a number of parents of high school students demean and discourage their children’s dreams, some right in front of them. These are very talented kids, with real aptitude in their area of interest. And yet the very people who could serve as the wind in the sails they’ll need to make their dreams come true are demanding they pursue a more “traditional” path.

And look, I get it. Sometimes the cockamamie plans they come up with are bat-guano crazy flights of fancy.

However.

Job number one is to affirm their original vision, no matter how insane it may seem. Love them enough to give them the runway they need to let life school them in lessons of practicality. (Trust me, it won’t need your help for that.) The odds are quite good that where they end up will be very different from their original crazy vision, but please hear this: that initial naive, unrealistic, cray-cray vision is crucial. If you snuff that out at the start, it will never have the time to mature into the unique path they were created for.

When we care about someone, it’s normal to want them to make choices that ensure their safety and well-being. We want what’s best for them. 

But it’s hard for me to believe that anyone would want a miserable future for their child that may include a full bank account but also leaves them trapped in a life they never wanted, tormented by resentment and regret. That’s exactly what you get when you extinguish their dream before it’s had a chance to mature.

We may share some DNA with our children, but they are not us. They are their own glorious gumbo of strengths and weaknesses, interests, and desires. Who knows for what purpose God created my child? The world may have been waiting centuries for this specific recipe; far be it for me to stand in the way.

It’s hard to to embrace something you don’t understand, and to approve a path you wouldn’t have chosen for yourself. Unfamiliar with the art world, my parents were willing to invite an expert (my high school art teacher) over for dinner to confirm whether or not I was actually any good, and if there was a legitimate path that could lead to me not living with them when I was forty.

Without that leap of faith and vote of confidence (thanks for the assist, Mrs. Garrett!), I’m sure I wouldn’t be where I am today.

I suspect my parents are at least a little surprised by how my life has turned out. In fact, it’s quite a departure from my own original vision. It’s even better. 

I never would have gotten here had they not loved me enough to chart my own path.

Whether you are a parent or not, I bet you have some young people in your life who are figuring out what to do next.

Be a good angel on their shoulder, cheering them on to great heights.

They may turn down millions, but you can help them build a life that’s worth even more.

My young traveling companion poked me on the elbow with a request I didn’t see coming.

From the moment Kim and I made the decision to move ahead with taking Ginny on her first Daddy Daughter trip despite the storm that had wrought havoc on our home, my mind was in overdrive. 

From forcing it to focus on what needed to land in my suitcase, to finding a gas station that had power so we could refuel, to asking the gate agent if he could make sure our seats were together, my brain was busy anticipating and solving every challenge that presented itself on our journey to Tennessee.

Finally, we were on the plane, seats together, and her seatbelt was buckled. (Good thing they still have those important safety messages; the break from traveling left me rusty on knowing how seatbelts work.) Everything was going smoothly. Our first leg was almost over as we started our descent into Detroit. 

Then came the gentle poke and the unexpected request.

“Can I hold your hand?”

She didn’t need to say anything else. The look of concern – but not panic – in her sparkling blue eyes said enough. It wasn’t her first flight, but it was the first in a while. And the landing part was giving her pause.

“Of course,” I said, as a I grabbed her hand. 

No other words were exchanged, but during the descent, every time her stomach sensed a sudden drop in elevation, she squeezed a little bit tighter. It made my Daddy’s heart swell.

In the aftermath of dealing with the losses dealt by the storm, it’s been interesting to be on the receiving end of people trying to help us as we grieve. As far as I can tell, everyone is well-intentioned. But their level of effectiveness…varies widely.

The truth is, helping someone who is grieving is incredibly hard. Especially when it comes to knowing what to say. We want to provide comfort, we want to take away the pain, we want to say the right thing.

It’s hard. But Ginny helped me to see that maybe we make it harder than it needs to be. 

When she meekly reached for my hand, she just needed me to grab it.

She didn’t need me to tell her her feelings were wrong. 

She didn’t need me to explain the physics of aerodynamics and how we were perfectly safe.

She didn’t need me to remind her that other people are dealing with even scarier things. 

She didn’t even need me to tell her it was going to be ok. 

She didn’t need me to say anything. 

She just needed me to hold her hand. 

She just needed me to be there.

On a day that had me feeling overwhelmed, overmatched, and out of my element, it was the one thing for which I was totally qualified.

Maybe you’ve been given the opportunity to come alongside someone who is grieving. Maybe you will be soon. 

It’s not an easy task, but you are plenty qualified for it. Don’t worry so much about what to say. They don’t need you to tell them their feelings are wrong, or how things could be worse, or about someone you know who went through something even harder, or even that everything will be ok. 

It might be better if you don’t say anything at all. 

Just metaphorically (or literally) figure out a way to hold their hand or give them a really big hug.

It doesn’t seem like much, but trust me, just being there matters.

I woke up. The face of my bedside clock was expressionless.

Still no power.

It felt like time was standing still, but I knew otherwise. A quick check of my phone, whose battery was holding on for dear life, confirmed that I’d been asleep for exactly one hour. 

I was awake, but unfortunately, the nightmare persisted.

It was 1:30 am, but no more sleep would be had by me that night. Eerie lightning flashes periodically silhouetted the stripped and broken trees rising from the backyard like a witch’s bony fingers. It’s an image I’ll never forget.

I had to leave for the airport in five hours. My mind raced to try and solve all the problems that flooded it, both real and imagined. I speculated how long food would last in a refrigerator with no power. I looked up videos on Youtube for instructions for manually opening an automatic garage door. A scan of local headlines spoke of fallen trees and downed power lines everywhere, and I wondered if making it to the airport in time was even possible.

I had to figure out a way, even if it meant driving eleven hours on one hour of sleep. A conference filled with people was expecting an opening keynote speaker. And, based on the initial survey of the damage to our house and yard, I was not in a position to be returning checks.

Only one thing seemed certain: my first Daddy Daughter trip with Ginny would have to be canceled.

Again.

And the thought of telling her made my heart splinter like the white pines outside my window.

I like to think of myself as a resilient person, cool under pressure. When a crisis comes up, my mind revs into overdrive and I work to solve the problems at hand. 

I’m not unique in this regard. When life is disrupted by a storm, an accident, or an unfavorable diagnosis, it’s easy to shift into busy mode, frantically working to get things back to normal.

This can be good, but also dangerous.

It’s a trait that shows up not just in a crisis, but anytime there’s a project to be finished or a to-do list to be tackled. Adultitis encourages us to keep pushing, assuring us that there will be plenty of time for everything else once this hurdle is cleared.

We barrel ahead until the work is done, telling ourselves that we can sit back and relax after we take care of one more thing. 

The problem is, there’s always one more thing.

And life keeps going, with or without our willingness to be present. 

That’s why, at nine the next morning, I was helping my daughter buckle into her window seat on a jet bound for Chattanooga.

In the light of day, after a neighbor helped us clear the driveway, Kim and I were able to have a clear-headed conversation about what to do. My first trip with Ginny was supposed to be to Orlando, but that was canceled thanks to COVID. If this one bit the dust, there wasn’t an obvious next one to replace it.

I felt bad leaving Kim behind to handle the details as it was, but to spend it having fun in Tennessee with Ginny was especially guilt-inducing. It made a lot of sense to put our heads down, deal with the crisis, see about flying home right after the gig, and put her first trip off for another time.  

But what if there is no “another time?” At the very least, this is our last summer with an 8-year-old Ginny. We won’t be getting another. 

Life’s pretty fast. It’s easy to miss it when you’re in the constant state of busyness that’s so common in our modern age. 

But it’s also easy to miss when life gets hard. 

This realization is also why, although our to-do list just tripled in the aftermath of the storm, while we’re already knee-deep planning for our first out-of-state Escape Adulthood Summit, our family spent last Friday afternoon at the beach. It was a gorgeous day. We ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with our toes in the sand. Kim napped in the sun. I cuddled with Ginny, played catch with Ben, and joked around with Lucy.

We filled our cups.

Because you can’t drive through hell on an empty gas tank.

Life keeps going; even in the hard times. We each have a certain number of days left.  It’s worth being reminded that the sands in the hourglass of our life don’t get frozen in place until the backyard is restored, the cancer has been cured, the diploma has been achieved, and things get back to “normal.”

Life keeps going.

Don’t fall into the trap of waiting for life to be just right before you actually live it. 

QUESTION: Is it possible to create a working Volkswagon Beetle out of rice cereal treats and fondant?

I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t be surprised to fire up Netflix one day and see it happen. I am awed by the mind-bending confections people create on those baking competition shows. It’s entertaining television. But watching them make their beautiful creations don’t teach us as much as the ugly stuff we create ourselves.

A few years ago, I led an unusual workshop. Instead of whiteboards, charts, and slides, we rolled out frosting, sprinkles, and sugar cookies. There was only one objective: decorate your cookie to be as ugly as possible, Martha Stewart’s disapproving scowl be damned.

There were about eighty people, each of whom successfully accomplished the objective.

Eighty correct answers, and yet every cookie was different.

In life, as opposed to what we learned in school, there’s often more than one right answer. There are many ways to solve a problem and our unique perspective and talents aid us and flavor our solution.

As I interviewed participants about their creations afterward, one guy said, “I started out making mine, and someone commented that it looked like a spaceship. So I added licorice as exhaust to make it look more like one.”

I asked him, “Were you offended by their suggestion?”

“No, of course not, ” he replied.

Which makes me wonder why we are so defensive when someone suggests a way for us to improve something? Maybe it was the seriousness – or lack thereof  – of the situation? Or the intent of the messenger? Perhaps the shared spirit around the task at hand set the tone for teamwork over competition.

QUESTION: What would happen if we decided to take ALL advice with gracious open-mindedness, regardless of the intent or tone of the messenger?

This related to another thing I witnessed: the power of plussing. People at each table contributed small ideas to up the ugly factor. One guy had the idea of incorporating items from the breakfast spread to add diversity to the available materials. Others followed suit, then added their own tweaks. Each minor “improvement” worked together to achieve a wide array of remarkable results. 

This “yes, and” approach popularized by the art of improvisational comedy engenders a supportive environment for risk-taking, by making the process a shared one. It also makes innovation more accessible by encouraging small, doable experiments that build on one another.

QUESTION: What would our organizations – and families!? – look like if we supported risk-taking rather than stifling it by punishing failure?

As I acknowledged the unusual results brought forth by another group, they shared, “We started out trying to make them ugly, but then they didn’t look so ugly, so we settled on calling them odd.”

I loved their willingness to pivot. We can’t always think or theorize our way to progress. It’s not always possible to know every step before we begin. Sometimes we just have to tinker our way there. 

And sometimes we end up in a much different place on an undertaking than we thought we would when we began. It’s easy to grow frustrated and discouraged as we struggle to force our current circumstances to match our initial vision. But a careful review of the situation might reveal that we’re in a better place than we originally envisioned. 

QUESTION: What if we embraced the potential and beauty of where we are now instead of comparing it to where we thought we’d be instead?

The mission was accomplished that day. Complete culinary ugliness was achieved. The only thing delicious that came from this lighthearted activity was the life-changing questions that emerged. Beautiful questions I offer to you, today. They might take some time to unpack, but I encourage you to do so and guarantee it’s worth the effort.

Which is more than I can say about trying to make an edible automobile out of cereal and sugar.

But then again, don’t underestimate the insight that can be gained in seemingly trivial pursuits.

I know a guy who claims that his family is the most important thing in his life. 

He also brags about spending 300 days a year on the road as a speaker.

I don’t know how many hours one needs to spend with one’s loved ones to register as “enough,” but by my calculations, the math here doesn’t add up.

Why is the person who works 60-hour weeks, spends 200 days on the road, and sits on three charitable boards applauded when they say that family is the most important thing, but another person who quits the rat race to stay home and spend more time with their family is seen as an underachiever not living up to potential?

These are questions I wrestle with often. I want to make a gigantic impact on the world. I literally want to make a positive difference in the lives of one billion people. It is what has driven me since the first day I started this company. I want it more than anything.

Well, almost more than anything, it turns out.

A few years back, Kim and I were set to scale our business to the next level. We discussed plans for adding more people and initiating new projects, all with the goal of broadening our reach. Business was good, but we were set on making it bigger. 

And then.

After an exceptionally busy stretch when I was away from home, we nearly hit a breaking point. The combined effort of running a household, managing a business, taking care of three young kids, homeschooling, AND trying to take on new initiatives designed to grow our business proved to be just. Too. Much.

We were hit with the reality that we were not superhuman, after all.

And so we had to make some tough choices. It became clear that our kids were not getting our best. They were getting sloppy seconds…or even thirds. In the end, we decided that quality time with our family was actually more important to us than changing the world. We reminded ourselves that we are in a unique season of life, and although it seems like it when the days are long, our kids will in fact NOT be this young and dependent forever.

We ultimately decided that even if we made an impact in the lives of one billion people, but our kids turned out to be dillholes, we will have failed.

We didn’t abandon the business. We scaled back how much time we gave it, by working smarter, postponing some projects, and ditching the parts that took too much time for too little a return. Interestingly, since we made that decision, our business exploded, as has the time we spend together as a family. 

This isn’t always easy. Like I said, the inner drive to reach more people is strong in me. I am in constant fear that I am not living up to my potential. That I should be doing more. That the work we do is great, and that more people should know about it. Some days, putting my hours where my mouth is in order to spend more time with my family feels a lot like giving up on a dream.

But I only have 24 hours a day, just like you. Contrary to popular belief, you can’t do it all. Not well, at least. 

And saying that family is my number one priority is not the same as proving it with my actions.

In our society, this choice is not as commonplace, sexy, exciting, lucrative, or socially acceptable as sticking to our original plan of pushing, striving, and growing, while maintaining the facade that we’re balancing it all.

Kids don’t give us standing ovations, raises, or fancy gold-plated plaques.

I spent last Friday – a day I could have been working on the next big thing – with my kids at the library, reading Chronicles of Narnia, and learning how to make bowtie pasta.

When all is said and done, maybe I’ll regret prioritizing time with my kids over striving for a bigger impact with my work.

I have come to the conclusion that I will regret it more if I don’t.

The world is all stocked up on dillholes.

Does your home have a name?

There are so many things to love about Mexico, from the culture to the bright colors and the delicious food. We’ve twice been there as a family (Tulum and Cabo) and were delighted to discover that many of the homes had signs denoting their name.

It’s a charming little detail we like very much, and so when we bought our new home, we decided it needed a name, too.

We settled on Casa de Whimsy.

And just as when you give a mouse a cookie, he’s going to ask for a glass of milk, if you give your house a name, you’re going to need a sign to go with it.

Ours hangs proudly near our front door, lovingly assembled with knickknacks foraged from a secondhand art supply store in town. It gives visitors a pretty good idea of what they’ll encounter inside. 

The word “whimsy” represents our family well. We don’t take ourselves seriously. We love color. We regularly partake in kitchen dance parties, embark on epic Pajama Runs, and hold Barbarian Spaghetti dinners. And as far as decor goes, it is basically an art gallery specializing in whimsy.

Clearly, our home is appropriately named. But why is whimsy so important to us?

Although often viewed as superfluous, whimsy is a spark of delight with the supernatural power to uplift the human spirit. Whimsy can fill a heart with happiness and a head with new ideas. It brings a playful unpredictability to our days. It puts the heavy things we carry in perspective. The delicious ridiculousness of whimsy helps lighten our loads and brings joy to others. 

Casa de Whimsy is not just a description of our home, it’s an aspiration, too. Every time we walk through the front door,  we are reminded to have fun, take ourselves lightly, and celebrate the gift of life. It gives us permission to live playfully.

Now more than ever, the world feels dark and cumbersome. We need more wonder and more whimsy, not because we are in danger of forgetting the terrible stuff, but because the terrible stuff weighs so heavily on us.

There’s a lot of value in naming your home.

What would yours be named?

As I write this, we’re still two weeks from Thanksgiving here in the United States, but I’ve already seen Christmas lights going up around town. Seems early to me, but maybe it springs from a collective yearning for the joy and nostalgia of the holidays, and the warm comfort it brings.
 
I suspect it’s a desperate attempt to encourage 2020 to leave already.

Whatever the reason, one thing is certain: our holidays will look different this year. Thanks to the pandemic, some of the ways we’re used to doing things just aren’t possible this year. For many, that is a source of great sadness.

But it might be worth asking, what does it make possible? Is there a bright side to any of this?

Well, for one thing, we are forced to be intentional, which is a practice we’re not used to in our busy society. With so much going on, it’s much easier to go with the flow and do things the way we’ve always done them. But going with the flow isn’t always ideal, especially when that thing we’ve always done went moldy a decade ago. 

This year, we’ve been given an incredible opportunity (or excuse, depending on how you look at it) to tinker. Opportunities like this don’t come along very often. The pressure is off! You have the chance to try something new without taking any heat if it doesn’t work.

Just blame it on COVID.

Some who are reading this are the intentional type. You’ve had the itch to mix things up for years, but never had the buy-in from the ones with their heels dug in, resistant to change. This year is bringing change, like it or not, and no one has any say in the matter. So use it as the reason for trying something new — you know, “because COVID” — and give it a whirl. You can always soften it by ensuring everyone that you’ll go back to the old way next year. And maybe you will. But the little secret you know is that change can be good, and sometimes we just need a little nudge to embrace it. 

Some who are reading this are the traditionalists. You’re certain that the way you’ve always done it is the best way. You might be right. But as the old saying goes, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Maybe a break from tradition will finally make it clear to the others just how good and valuable it is.

Whatever your natural inclination, you do have the option of going all Grinch or unleashing your inner Ebenezer Scrooge, determined to “Bah Humbug” any glimmer of something good coming from this. But grousing over how unfair it is that the apple cart got overturned this year will only serve to guarantee your holidays will be miserable.

Not everything has to be great for us to see the good in a situation.

This is the first holiday season for some. It will be the last for others. All the more reason to embrace what‘s possible and savor the good. Use this opportunity to try something new, to make the best of a difficult situation. 

Don’t miss the joy by dwelling on what you lost.

Please know that I’m not suggesting you shouldn’t be sad, frustrated, or disappointed by this challenging turn of events. Make no mistake, COVID blows.

I’m merely suggesting you open your eyes to the possibility that you might stumble across a new tradition that spans generations. Or perhaps you’ll breathe new appreciation into an old one that went stale. 

Or maybe you’ll simply try a one-time thing. A one-time thing that delivers a happy memory that will remind you decades from now of that terrible year that actually brought forth some pretty good moments.

No doubt about it, this holiday season brings more than its share of challenges. But it also comes bearing a special gift.

Will you accept it?

One good thing about the COVID-19 pandemic keeping us closer to home is that it brought back family dinner for many people. If this is one of the things that remains as part of what people refer to as a “new normal,” then I am all for it.

This painting, titled “Home Fries,” is a reminder that home is where the heart is. And the place our heart gets nourished most is around the dinner table.

In the the last hundred years or so, we’ve seen technology bring about more advancements than the rest of human history combined. We’ve come a long way, baby.

For the most part, these advancements have served us well. We’re able to produce more food, travel longer distances in less time, eradicate once-deadly diseases, and improve the length and quality of our lives.

Unfortunately, we are so eager to reach for the new and improved that we often throw the wisdom of the ages right out the window. It’s dangerous to be too quick to discard the traditions of the past as old-fashioned and out of touch.

One such tradition that seems to be going the way of the dodo bird is the family dinner. Our busy, packed schedules have pushed this old-timey tradition to the brink of extinction. After all, with so many things going on these days, who has time to gather together all at once? With such full plates, family dinner is the first to go. The rise of fast food joints and microwave ovens make it seem an easy sacrifice.

Unfortunately, the very thing we’re sacrificing is the health, intimacy, and future of our family.

As Miriam Weinstein wrote in her book, The Surprising Power of Family Meals, “We’ve perfected the segmentation of the family. Nobody has to eat the same food, watch the same show, listen to the same song, let alone sing it. We love to imagine the French with their lush tables, or the Italians with their big families, but we prefer to gobble our take-out, our home delivery, our single-serve microwave, on the run, in front of the TV, in the food court, or in the car, while we dream of quality time, of family vacations, of someplace far away.”

If you care about your family at all, you may want to reconsider the importance of family dinners in your life. The National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse at Columbia University did a study that divided teenagers into two groups. The first group had dinner with their family five times a week or more. The second group had dinner together with their family two times a week or less. The results were astounding.

They discovered that the kids who ate dinner more often with their families were up to 45% less likely to smoke, drink, use drugs, be suspended from school, or have sex at young ages. They are twice as likely to receive A’s in school. Kids who frequently eat dinner with their families are likelier to confide in their parents and are at a lower risk for thoughts of suicide. Other studies from a wide variety of divergent fields have found equally surprising results. Regular family dinners discourage obesity and eating disorders and make kindergartners better equipped to read (even more so than getting read to!)

Isn’t it amazing to think how much depends on dinner?

Please note, we’re not talking gourmet dinners here. The study didn’t mention anything about preparing meals that would make Bobby Flay jealous. And the conversation? That doesn’t have to be all that engaging, either.

Heck, in my house growing up, a typical dinner conversation often included my Dad farting and blaming it on a duck under the table. Which resulted in giggles from me and my two brothers and an icy glare from my Mom (which usually was concealing a nearly undetectable smirk.)

Oh, and my Dad also had a penchant for asking the same, stupid, boring question every single night: “How was school today?”

Naturally, we’d respond with the same stupid answer: “Fine.”

But the thing is, if by some freak occurrence, something actually DID happen at school that I wanted to talk about, I knew my Dad (and Mom) would be there to ask the question. That shared time together, that calm amidst the storm that we call life, is so vitally important. In a world that often seems like it has gone crazy, the best thing you can do for the health and sanity of your family is to step off the hamster wheel once a day and share a simple meal together. The conversations that do occur help parents to learn more about their children’s lives and help them to better understand the day-to-day challenges their kids face.

Maybe a regular family dinnertime really is tough to swing. Well, who says you can’t make breakfast your regular meal time? If all parents knew how important eating dinner together as a family was to their children — something that used to be an unquestioned element of family life in this country — I think we’d see a lot more people doing it. If you struggle finding time to corral the troops for mealtime on a regular basis, I encourage you — no, I beg you — to try harder. Not only is it a pretty good way to escape the hustle and bustle of the outside world for a few moments each day, the benefits it provides your children are priceless. 

And if family dinners are already part of your regular routine, why not give it even more attention, intention, and fun?

Life is fast, and technology is making it even faster. Don’t get so sucked into the promise of the future that you abandon a time-tested ritual that our ancestors knew to be vital.

Bring the tradition of eating dinner together back into the fabric of your life. 

The health and happiness of your family depends on it.

The ganache wasn’t very ganachey. A rose kept falling off. And it was a little lopsided. But that didn’t make the cake my kids made for my anniversary any less a work of art, or a gift of love.

It started as their desire to do something nice for our twentieth wedding anniversary. Since we’ve been binge-watching Kids Baking Championship, we gave them a challenge. They had to design and bake a cake that represented both Mom and Dad (a worthy challenge considering Kim and I fall on opposite ends of the dessert spectrum). It also needed to be at least two layers and be made from scratch. We told them we’d get whatever ingredients they needed, but they had to find the recipe and provide us the ingredient list.

Despite a few minor flaws, the end result was impressive. And it tasted good, too!

This pandemic has caused a lot of us to ponder, what is school for? It seems an obvious answer on the surface: to educate our kids, of course. But it gets a little complicated when you ask the next question: educate them about what?

As parents all over the world have been forced to take a more active role in the educational process of their children, I imagine many of them have wondered about this. Perhaps they felt a little out of their league because the kids were learning stuff the parents didn’t know much about (or had forgotten it since they “learned” it), making it difficult to even know how to help.

When Kim and I began our homeschool adventure, we were forced to ask (and answer) the question, what do we want our kids to learn? Obviously, we wanted them to know how to read and be proficient in basic math skills. But what else?

We tried to think about the things that stuck from our days in school. (Not very much, sadly. I had a  pretty high ACT score, but if I had to take the math part over again, I’d be relegated back to middle school.) Then we thought about our current lives. What skills are needed to survive – and thrive – in today’s world? 

Facts and figures were on the very bottom of the list, what with a search engine now in every purse or pocket. Ninety-five percent of the skills I’ve used to build a profitable company that’s nearly twenty years old didn’t come from the degree I earned. That’s not to say my degree was worthless, it’s just that most of the skills I rely on today were learned after I graduated. (I may be demoted to middle school math, yet I know how to figure gross margins and read a balance sheet.)

I am not special, by the way. This is how adults learn all the time. When a doctor finds a rarely-seen condition in a patient, she doesn’t sign up for a class that runs for 6 weeks and starts next semester. When you want to learn how to do a home improvement project you’ve never tackled before, do you look into getting a degree in construction management? No. You Google it. You watch some YouTube videos. Maybe you ask an experienced friend or buy a book from Amazon. And when do you do this? When you want to actually do the project. Now, when it’s relevant, not thirteen years ago before you even owned a home.

Human beings – including kids! – are natural learners. You didn’t have to give your daughter set-by-step instructions about how to walk. At some point, we stop allowing them to learn in natural ways. We force information upon them that is neither relevant nor interesting. But if they are allowed to chase an interest, it’s impossible to contain the learning that takes place. 

Kim and I came up with a list of twenty things we wanted our kids to learn, which included skills like self-confidence, resourcefulness, responsibility, creativity, persistence, good communication techniques, financial acumen, and the curiosity of a life-long learner. We realized that some of these things are taught in the classroom, but they go far beyond the scope of four rooms in a traditional school. 

I am actually excited about the opportunity this pandemic has brought about. Not because I hope everyone will suddenly become homeschoolers. Frankly, I suspect it will be the opposite because what most parents have been forced in to is NOT homeschooling; it’s survival. When I get a peek of what life looks like balancing the schedules of their children who have several teachers each, while still trying to do their own work from home, it reminds me a lot more like insanity. (By the way, can I get a shout out for all the teachers who are doing their best to make a difference within a system that wasn’t designed for this!?)

The point is, you can call it distance learning, or e-learning, or even schooling-at-home, but it doesn’t match any brand of homeschooling I’ve ever seen a homeschooling family sign up for.

Our brand looks a lot like unleashing the kids in the kitchen to bake a cake from scratch. From that project alone, my kids got to practice cooperation, compromise, teamwork, improvisation, problem-solving, persistence, creativity, presentation skills, leadership skills, cooking skills, not to mention some math, science, and reading.

And that, my friend, is the opportunity available to every child, parent, grandparent, aunt, and uncle, which has nothing to do with the choice to permanently “homeschool.” 

It’s the chance to look at education with new eyes, and the opportunity to use this time to gift our kids with some new, rich experiences that aren’t possible during “normal” times.

It’s easy to feel like you have to make sure your kids are on top of all the assignments sent over by their teachers. But here’s a little secret: no kid is going to be failed over this crisis. What if you scaled back on the “required” work, and gave your kids the freedom to explore their own passions for a change? And no, this doesn’t mean you suddenly have to be expertly qualified in all things they take an interest in so you can properly “teach” them. Your job is to serve as a coach, a guide who can help them find the information, materials, and mentors they need to level themselves up.

Back in the olden days, kids learned important life and trade skills from mom and dad and extended family members. What are your talents? What skills do you have that you can pass on to the important children in your life? Do you know how to change a tire? Bake bread from scratch? Build an end table? Design a simple website? Plant a garden? 

Are these not skills that could serve them just as well as knowing the names of wars that happened during the ancient Roman Empire? 

What is a project you could let your kids take a deep dive into for a few days or weeks in a way they never could during “normal” times? Could they build a treehouse? Renovate a spare bedroom? Start a small business from scratch?

I was blown away by what my kids were able to produce in the kitchen this week. (I invite you to see the results for yourself.) I am continually reminded of how often I underestimate them. But I am not alone. I think we as a society underestimate and undervalue our young people all the time, whether they are four, fourteen, or twenty-four. Too often we resort to the lowest common denominator of scheduling their days full, telling them what they need to know, and selling them short.

Our kids are capable of greatness. 

This may be the best opportunity we’ve ever had to step aside and let them show us.

It seems we are all yearning for a return to normal. I know what people mean when they say it – I say it myself, and what we have, right now, is not normal. But in truth, I really don’t want to return to normal.

As we inch slowly closer to a resolution of this crisis, it might be worth asking a question that was posed when the shelter-in-place guidelines began:

What is essential?

We’ve been given a gift. This pause has been an unprecedented (anyone up for making that the official word of 2020?) opportunity to examine our lives and our society with a new perspective.

For example, are all of those in-person meetings we’d been having really essential?

Are all of the regulations we eased up on in order to make our systems work better in an emergency really essential? 

Is it really true that the liquor store is essential but the pottery studio isn’t?

Is watching any of the major news networks really an essential way of staying informed?

Our packed calendars got cleared pretty quickly when the dominoes of this crisis started to fall. As things open back up and we can add those agenda items back in, are they all essential?

Most of us have probably spent a lot less money on things during this period of sheltering at home. I can’t wait to go out to eat again and travel somewhere awesome that’s more than five miles away, but how many of the things we would have spent our money on were really that essential?

On the other hand, this experience also helped us to discover new things that are essential we didn’t even realize. Like relationships we took for granted. The healing power of nature. Or the ability of a home-cooked meal to bond us together.

Many of us got to dust off our faith, and realized just how essential it is to our souls. 

I’ve enjoyed seeing mothers and daughters, fathers and sons, and even full families – with teenagers! – going on walks together. Maybe they’ve accidentally stumbled upon an essential routine and will choose to keep it going.

I hope we realize that art and music and theater – those subjects schools often deem as non-essential – are the very things that helped us get through this dark time. I can’t imagine what it would have been like without the musicians doing living room concerts, the movies we watched to give us an escape, the children’s book authors who read us their stories, the meme makers who made us laugh, and the artists who encouraged us with their inspiring paintings and funny drawings. 

I hope we’ve learned that it is possible to work together for the common good with people who have different political views. It’s essential that to make this world better than it was before, we need to spend more time working together instead of tearing each other down. 

Know what else has been essential? You. You, doing your part – big or small – by sharing your time, talents, and treasure to help the cause in some way. By making masks, sharing a laugh, bringing some light to someone in darkness, or easing the burden of loneliness of someone nearby.

As we move forward together, let’s promise to not settle for normal.

Let’s aim for better.

The background of this painting comes from a photograph I took during a family trip to the Pacific Northwest. It captured a holy moment.

You see, in our family, when the sun has taken its final bow for the day, and the moon is set to take the stage, it’s time for s’mores. 

I suppose you could have s’mores during afternoon tea, and of course there’s no rule against having them for breakfast, but it just doesn’t seem right.

You may disagree with me on the proper time for s’mores, one thing is certain: making s’mores demands that you make time for s’mores. 

It’s not something you just throw together. You have to gather the chocolate, graham crackers, and marshmallows, which aren’t as conveniently handy as eggs and milk. You have to build a fire, which requires wood and kindling and matches, and the patience required to nurse a spark into a full-blown fire, especially if the wind is conspiring against you. You have to get the sticks for roasting said marshmallows. And most importantly, you have to set aside the space to make all of this happen, because it won’t schedule itself and there’s no rushing it if you want it done right. I’m first in line for a burnt marshmallow, but a perfectly toasted one takes no small amount of time and patience. 

Time and patience.

Two rare and very limited resources in our fast food, drive-thru society, where we pack our vacations so full that upon our return home, we exclaim our need for another vacation.

In order to make time for s’mores, you must be willing to put down the mobile devices. You have to turn down invitations to partake in other, more thrilling activities. You must set aside time for what seems like nothing. 

And once you do all that, the real magic happens. Your heartbeat slows. You notice just how many stars are in the sky (have they been there this whole time?!). The smoke from the fire seeps into your clothes and your bones, making you feel like you lived this day well. Stories begin to emerge from the past, followed by laughter, and content smiles savoring good memories. New legends are born, while old legends grow mighty in stature. Talking about the olden days often leads to dreams for the future, and those stars suddenly become pretty handy for wish-making. 

This to say nothing of the s’mores themselves, which are deliciously gooey and sticky sweet, but nothing compared to the benefits they brought forth, in the form of conversation, contemplation, and connection.

In a world that feels like it’s bursting at the seams, too rushed, too noisy, and too demanding, it’s always time for s’mores. 

“Speed Racer” by Jason Kotecki. 30″ x 40″. Oil on canvas.
Original is SOLD. Prints available here.

The cheetah is known for being fast.

Really fast.

It’s the fastest land mammal, achieving running speeds of up to 70 miles per hour. But what most people don’t know is that the cheetah can’t maintain those speeds for long. In fact, a cheetah spends very little of its time running. It needs to recuperate and build up energy for the next hunt.

Obviously, if a cheetah doesn’t run, it cannot eat. But if the cheetah doesn’t rest, it cannot run. If the cheetah spent all its time doing what it does best, it would die.

The rest is just as important as the chase.

How much there is to learn from the cheetah! Oh, we have the running part down. We’re good at racing from one commitment to the next. Meetings, grocery shopping, clarinet practice, yoga, daycare drop-offs and pick-ups, baseball tournaments, birthday parties…the list goes on. 

But the resting part, that’s where we falter. Slowing down is counter-cultural. We declare, “I’m so busy!” as if it’s a badge of honor. It’s a boast disguised as a complaint.

We celebrate hustle but are afraid of the hush.

We need to be more like a cheetah. Taking a reprieve from the hectic pace of modern life may seem pretty revolutionary, but it’s as old as human history. It even has a name, albeit an old-fashioned and highfalutin’ one: Sabbath.

The word itself conjures up religious overtones and maybe even an image of Charlton Heston holding a couple of stone tablets. Indeed, the concept of “Sabbath,” which means to stop or to rest, does have ties to every major world religion. But the truth is, the Sabbath has never really been for God. It’s for us. The idea of taking a day to stop our frenzied activity is as relevant today as it ever has been.

Many people — maybe even you — think of such an idea as impractical or even impossible. After all, weekends are packed with athletic events, church activities, work commitments, and family get-togethers like birthday parties, baptisms, and weddings. You’d love to have a day off, but it’s not like the world is going to let you take one.

No, the world might not be too keen about you dropping off the radar, but you know what?

It’s not the world’s choice. It’s yours.

I have friends who completely challenged my thinking about what’s possible when it comes to taking a Sabbath. Early in their marriage, they committed to taking one every week. It starts with church in the morning, after which they return home and have leftovers for lunch. Then they just hang out, taking naps, playing board games, or watching old Andy Griffith reruns. And they get pizza delivered for dinner (no cooking for Mom!)

When I first heard of this, I was as intrigued as I was perplexed. “But what if your kids have a baseball game? What about youth programs at your church? What about the obligatory birthday parties of friends and family?” Knowing that the husband spoke at churches where Sunday evening programs are common, I added, “What about people that want to hire you on Sundays?”

“We say no,” they said simply.

They admitted it was challenging at first. Communication was key. They told potential clients that their Sabbath was vital to the health of their family, and the churches simply booked him on a different day. They were up front with the coaches of their kids’ sports teams at the beginning of the season about their inability to participate in games or practices on Sundays. Even extended family members eventually got on board and respected their wishes.

“And you know what the most amazing thing is?” they added. “The kids look forward to it more than we do! They love the downtime and the reprieve from the busy week at school.”

I was blown away by the audacity of this family to disregard the concept of what a typical weekend is “supposed” to look like. Their example helped me to see that the idea that we are “obligated” to go to all the athletic, church, and family activities going on is another one of those rules that doesn’t exist.

Believe it or not, you get to decide what a weekend is “supposed” to look like. (For YOU, at least.)

Since then, Kim and I have taken a Sabbath almost every week. (There have been a handful of days when we’ve gotten cocky, thinking we could operate without one. Big mistake. We always notice it the following week and we always regret it.) We started before we had kids, but it’s become even more important now that we have three. I can’t tell you how much it has contributed to the overall health and happiness of our life. Just like anyone, our weeks are busy and contain their share of potholes and emergencies, but they are so much easier to deal with when you know you have a light at the end of the tunnel: a day to stop and get refreshed.

Even though some faith traditions consider certain days of the week as the “official” Sabbath, the important thing is to take one day a week as a time out, to slow down and reflect in gratitude about the blessings in our life. Here are a few guidelines we follow:

• We take a Sabbath once a week. Absolutely NO exceptions.
• Because of our flexible schedule, we don’t always take our Sabbath on the same day each week, so we have to mark them on the calendar a few months out. After all, if you don’t plan it, life has a way of making plans for you.
• We don’t do any chores. Zip. Zero. Nada.
• I usually cook dinner, but only because I like to cook.
• We give ourselves permission to pig out, be lazy, watch tv, or do whatever we want.

You might choose to do things a bit differently. Nobody’s life is the same, but there are two constants:

First, a Sabbath is doable for everyone. If you think you’re the exception, you’re wrong.

Second, the world isn’t going to offer you a free day once a week without a bit of effort. It will take a little creativity, sacrifice, and communication. You will probably have to say no to some good opportunities in order to say yes to the best ones. But in the end, it will be SO worth it.

A respite from the cacophony of voices and choices, from the harried busyness that wears down our immune system, is not a luxury. It’s an absolute necessity. If you don’t make time to rest, life has a way of forcing you to, and it might not be in a manner you’d prefer.

We need to model the rhythm of the cheetah. She knows that she can’t run all the time, even if it is the thing she does best. 

Like the cheetah, we all need time to physically and mentally rest. To catch our breath. To just be. 

And to make sure life doesn’t speed by you before you’ve ever had the chance to figure out where you want to go.

Eating a peach, in season, perfectly ripe, is pure magic.

But also messy.

Oh, sure, you can eat peaches before they’re ripe and they might drip less, but they’re not nearly as good. The best peaches are always messy.

Now I’ll admit it: I prefer tidy. I like the structure of a good plan. I feel good when the dishes are done and the counter is cleared. I’m easily disturbed when piles stay piles for too long.

Is that an Adultitis-fueled trait? Perhaps. But I do find that I am more present, relaxed, and creative when clutter and chaos are minimized. In general, I don’t think it’s a terrible trait to have. And I don’t believe that an Adultitis-free life is one that disregards any sense of order.

But I still remember the day we let our oldest daughter take control of her own ice cream cone for the first time. It was a beautiful Madison summer afternoonand we were hanging out at the Memorial Union, overlooking picturesque Lake Mendota. We braved the super-duper-long line for ice cream and figured thatrather than micromanage each lick, we’d give Lucy full reign over her Zanzibar Chocolate ice cream cone.

Kim handed it to her, and she gave a look of surprise and wonderment that appeared to say, “Are you serious?”

After getting assurance that she was on her own, Lucy dove right in, her hazel eyes shining with joy. She licked. She smiled. She concentrated. She beamed. And she ended up with the cutest brown goatee I ever did see.

Eventually, a tourist from Asia came over and asked permission to take a photo of Lucy. Apparently, the spectacle was of international interest.

Meanwhile, the chocolate mess invaded everywhere from her nose to her toes. Her shirt and shorts were stained. The real breakthrough came when Kim, seeing the mammoth mess unfold before her very eyes, resisted every ounce of motherly urge to wrestle the cone back from our daughter. She let go of the dirty shirt, the stickyfingers, and the crazy sugar buzz that would be left behind.

She let it all go.

Later, she coined a great saying:

Never let making a mess get in the way of making a memory.

I would like to offer a moment of silence for Lucy’s tank top. Several washesand stain-stick treatments later, it was unable to be revived and ended up in the trash bin of history. That’s okay, though; we’ve decided that we’d much rather have the memories of that moment than the shirt.

Memories like these are waiting in the wings all the time.

A fan named Jean once wrote to me, “When I see a mud puddle, I step around it. I see muddy shoes and dirty carpets. My kids sit in it. They see dams to build, rivers to cross, and worms to play with.” I think we need to take a cue from kids and see the messes in our lives in a new light.

Sometimes budgets get blown and well-made plans go poof. Sometimes grass stains are inevitable and torn jeans are unavoidable.

Sometimes eggs get broken, milk gets spilled, and the kitchen gets dusted in a fine layer of flour.

Sometimes a scaled-down replica of the Wisconsin State Fair takes over an entire bedroom for several days.

Sometimes life doesn’t go the way we planned, expected, or even hoped.

The most direct route is rarely the most scenic, and sometimes wrong turns can lead to the best discoveries.

Adventures are rarely tidy.

Sometimes the best memories arise from the biggest messes.

This is an excerpt from A Chance of Awesome: How Changing the Way You See Changes Everything. It’s about making everything in your life better by strengthening the habit of shifting your perspective. It’s filled with Jason’s colorful artwork and witty anecdotes. Get your copy here.

My dad used to work at a lumberyard. He would bring estimating projects home and work on them at night at the dining room table. The overtime pay he earned helped my parents pay ahead on their mortgage. I’m sure there were about a million other things he would have rather been doing, but he spent many evenings at that dining room table, after long days at work, earning a little bit extra.

Family first.

I will never forget the little watch he kept close at hand, logging his hours. If one of his sons wandered into the dining room, hoping to chat, he’d stop what he was doing, turn off the timer on his watch, and become completely attentive to the person in front of him. Not once did he ever shoo us away or urge us to wrap it up so he could get back to his work.

Family first.

I remember one of those dining room chats with my dad when I was a teenager. Things were not going well at all with a girl I was infatuated with. I was sure she was “the one,” and yet my efforts to win her over had been unsuccessful and appeared hopeless. I needed a different tack; something guaranteed to work.

Instead, my father suggested that perhaps there was some “Girl X” out there waiting for me, someone I hadn’t even met yet. I rolled my eyes at his cluelessness and misplaced optimism. Clearly he didn’t know how right I and this other girl were for each other.

It was only a few months later that I met Kim.

My father has a way with words and a homespun philosophy that’s purely his, but there’s a lot of wisdom snuck inside. It helped get me through some tough times and shaped my path into manhood. But it wouldn’t have done me any good had he not made himself so readily available, or made me feel that he didn’t have the time.

Family first.

A few years into our business, Kim and I were in a rough spot. We had accumulated quite a bit of debt trying to figure things out, and were at the beginning stages of a business model that was finally working. But we were out of money. My parents refinanced their home in order to help us consolidate our debt, get our head above water, and survive. I’m sure we wouldn’t be here if not for their generosity, and the day we paid off that loan was one of the best of my life.

The thing is, my parents would have never been in the position to help us in that way were it not for those late nights of my dad collecting overtime at the kitchen table.

Family first.

The actions of my parents always made it clear what was first on their list of priorities. I’ve tried to imitate them. It’s an everyday challenge. As I was literally typing this, my son came into my office to show me his newest Lego creation. What else could I do but stop and appreciate his handiwork?

If there’s one thing I’ve learned as our business has matured and our kids have grown and our lives have gotten fuller, it’s that saying “family first” is easy. Living like you mean it is really hard.

Pretty much everyone says that their relationships are the most important part of their lives. The problem is, because that assumption is practically automatic, it’s easy to fall into the trap that maintaining those relationships is automatic as well.

It’s normal to find ourselves running around like a chicken with its head cut off, striving to advance at work and make our mark on the world, garnering praise, money, and accolades, all the while espousing that family comes first.

But how can we prove it? Words are cheap. Our actions are the only way to know for sure.

I’m not here to suggest that there’s a perfect ratio of how much time you need to put in, or how you should show your support. I just find it’s helpful to step back every once in a while to examine our auto-pilot setting, making sure our intentions and our actions line up with the things we say out loud.

You can say “family first” as many times as you’d like. You might be able to fool most people.

But in the end, actions are truth. If they don’t back up your words, the real fool might be you.

In my book Penguins Can’t Fly, I wrote about the story of a young man I knew who had leukemia, and how his family and friends moved up Christmas a few months so he’d be able to celebrate his favorite holiday one more time.

Well, unbeknownst to me, one of my speaking colleagues was good friends with Kevin’s mom. One day, shortly after the book came out, my colleague read her the passage in my book.

Through the tears, Kevin’s mother expressed her great joy in finally have something new to share about her son. “My friends are always telling me new things about their kids,” she said. “How they graduated with honors, got married, had their first child. I never had anything new to share. Now I do.”

The other thing this mother told my friend was how sad she was that no one ever brought up Kevin in conversation. Oh, she knew it was because they were being sensitive and didn’t want to upset her. “What they don’t realize,” she explained, “Is that I want to talk about my son. I want to remember him. I want his memory to be kept alive through stories.”

I’ll admit that I would tend to err on the side of silence, for fear of kicking up sad emotions. But after hearing her perspective, I knew she was certainly not alone.

This time of year can be hard for many people who are missing loved ones.

I’m hoping that sharing this little insight might be helpful to someone reading this. Maybe, just maybe, the best way to shine a little light into someone’s holiday season is by illuminating the life of a loved one who has passed away, though a simple story, fun anecdote, or something new that happened that made you remember them and smile.

“Sometimes memories sneak out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks.” –Anonymous

One of the best parts of Christmas is opening up an unexpectedly awesome gift from a thoughtful giver.

Even better is watching someone else open up the perfect gift you found for them.

Unfortunately, the gift-giving part of the holidays often contributes a big part of the stress most people feel during the season. It’s not easy trying to find something nice for everyone on the list while fighting the bustling, crazy crowds and keeping the budget from ballooning like Santa on a post-Christmas cookie eating binge.

A lot of families and work colleague save money by doing gift exchanges in which every person buys a gift for just one person, rather than everyone in the whole family. Names are drawn, a budget is set, and gifts are purchased.

It’s budget-friendly, but can become a bit stale. Not anymore!

Without further ado, here are some creative ideas for adding a fun twist to the standard gift exchange…

Alphabet Gift Exchange.
Draw names as usual, then have everyone select a letter of the alphabet and get a gift for their person that starts with that letter. Another twist is to buy the gift from a store that starts with that letter.

Around the World.
Get everyone to pick a different country (preferably not the one in which you live) and buy a gift that fits the country. Participants can choose their own country or draw one at random.

The Gift That Keeps Giving.
What about having everyone purchase a magazine subscription based on the interests of the recipient? Grandpa gets Field & Stream, Grandma gets Quilt Magazine, Aunt Jenny gets Epicurious, and your nephew Nicholas gets Sports Illustrated for Kids.

Choose Your Own Theme.
In a similar vein, your family or officemates can decide on your own theme for the year. Then everyone’s gift needs to fit the theme. For instance, if you choose “red,” all the gifts need to be predominantly red (or feature the comedian Red Skelton, perhaps.) How about these ideas to get you started: Something made in the USA. As Seen on TV. Books. Soft. Shiny. Food. Wood. Old. Childlike. (see what I did there? ;)

This Could Get Ugly.
You may have heard me talk about ugly cookies, but how about drawing names and have everyone buy something “ugly” based on a theme. Ugly sweaters. Ugly salt and upper shakers. Ugly ornaments…

Left or Right.
Designate someone to write a fun story that contains many instances of the words “left” and “right” (but not an equal number of times). Then have everyone buy a gift and have someone wrap each one in the same paper with no names on them. Every one grabs a gift, and as the story is read aloud, the packages are exchanged accordingly each time “left” or “right” is said. At the end of the story, the gift you end up with is yours.

Go Handmade.
Make a rule that everything has to be handmade. Of course, you could make it (or bake it) yourself, or you can choose to purchase something from a local artisan. Etsy.com is also a great place to find neat handmade treasures from talented folks.

Thrifty Fashions.
One family told us that they exchanged names and bought an outift (with accessories!) from Goodwill or a thrift store that the recipient would have to wear to their New Year’s Eve party. This prompted a fashion show, and a group picture.

The Weight Is Killing Me.
What about having everyone buy a pound of…something?

This Makes Sense.
Have everyone draw a paper that has one of the five senses written on it: hearing, smell, sight, touch, or taste. Then you have to buy a gift related to that sense.

Scavenger Hunt.
Another family often does a scavenger hunt gift exchange. Everyone gets someone else’s stocking, and they all go to the shopping mall, tasked with filling the stocking in one hour. No gift cards or jewelry allowed. Of course, no one wants to be seen, so people end up ducking behind other shoppers, running from store to store, sneaking down aisles, etc. The assigned stockings are hidden until Christmas, when they are opened one by one. The laughs shared over the antics and hijinks are usually just as much fun as the gifts themselves.

The Spirit of Christmas.
Everyone brings in a “spirit” that is $20 or less.

Lights, Camera, Action.
Everybody buys a movie for under $20. You can make a rule as to what rating limit is. (I’m guessing you don’t want Grandma Betty unwrapping an NC-17 flick, but you do you.) You can add other rules, such as no Black & White, no Cartoons, no TV shows, etc. The movies get wrapped or gift bagged and one by one, each person draws one movie from the pile.

Good or Gag.
For exchanges in which the gifts aren’t tied to a specific recipient, mix in some gag gifts with real good ones. Each person then picks their present based on packaging alone. Of course, you can modify and adapt any of the standard rules in the popular White Elephant/Yankee Swap tradition.

So there you go; a few ideas for sprucing up your office or family’s next Christmas gift exchange. Do you have any to add? Share yours in the comments!