In the rhythm of my own life, I’ve learned something about myself that I wish I’d picked up years ago: not every day is built the same. Some days pull me toward people… and others push me straight into the quiet corners of work and responsibility. I call them People Days and Paper Days, and honestly, naming them has helped me breathe a little easier.
People Days are the ones where my calendar is full, my phone seems to ring nonstop, and I’m bouncing between conversations, meetings, and moments that ask for my emotional energy. These are days where I’m “on”—listening, encouraging, answering questions, working through problems, trying to be present for the people who matter to me.
Sometimes these days fill me up. Sometimes they wear me out. But almost always, they remind me why relationships are such a gift. God wired us for connection, and even on the days when I’m running on fumes, there’s something sacred in those interactions.
And then there are Paper Days.
These are the days when, honestly, I’d rather just hole up somewhere with a cup of coffee and work. No small talk. No meetings. Just me and whatever task has been staring at me for far too long. Paper Days give me room to think, to plan, to sort out the mess that lives in my inbox and—if I’m being really honest—the mess that sometimes lives in my head.
I’ve started giving myself permission not to force one kind of day to become the other. If it’s a People Day, I lean into it. If it’s a Paper Day, I don’t feel guilty for turning inward. Both types of days serve a purpose. Both shape me. Both move me forward in different ways.
The real trick is paying attention. Just asking myself, “What kind of day do I have in front of me?” And then letting it be that.
Some days I give. Some days I regroup. Some days I pour out. Some days I refill.
And maybe that’s the quiet wisdom of it all—recognizing the rhythm instead of fighting it. Because when I stop trying to cram everything into every day, life feels a little more manageable… and a lot more peaceful.
We have banana trees in our backyard. I love them. My wife hates them. I love them because they have huge leaves and look so tropical. My wife views them as a weed. She is bound and determined to rid our backyard of them. She routinely will go out with clippers in hand and cut them completely down. The first time she did, I got upset and stewed about it for days. Then before I knew it, I saw a small green stalk emerging from the stump that was left behind. I smiled, knowing that soon…I would have a banana tree again…and sure enough I did.
This scenario has been played out several times over the years. Each time, the banana trees coming back…healthier and more plentiful. And each time, I smile. I love my banana trees.
What I’ve learned about banana trees is that their root system is extensive. It extends over a huge area and although it can’t be seen, it is constantly at work supplying the stumps with everything they need to make a full recovery regardless of the attacks from insects, animals or wives with garden tools. The roots win…every time.
Why do I think about roots and banana trees?
Because much the same way,…I love my “roots.” I love my Southern heritage. I love the history of my family as I have researched it over the years. I love traditions. I love our Country. I love the flag. I love standing for the National Anthem and I love saying the Pledge of Allegiance. I love my faith and my church. I love being an American.
Granted, looking back at history…it may not have been pretty or perfect…but neither am I. It was what is was and whatever that was, it helped to make me…me. Roots aren’t pretty…but they aren’t supposed to be either. They have a job to do. That job is to supply stability and life sustaining nutrients to everything that they are connected to. I’ll say it again…I love my roots.
I know the culture of today may not look kindly upon the roots that made America…America. They weren’t perfect or pretty…but again…they weren’t supposed to be…they were meant to supply life to an idea that a Country that was rooted in the Word of God could thrive.
So go ahead and tear down the statues, change the names of our holidays, change the history books and anything else that offends you…but remember…just like the banana tree…the roots win!
Growing up as a kid, my favorite cartoon was “Rock-a-Bye Bear”…
Quiet…I want Quiet!
These days, it seems like everyone has something to say. Everyone has a belief or opinion. But if everyone is talking, who is listening? Unfortunately, no one.
Everyone has a voice…but how often and when you use it is up to you.
How do you know?
God gave us one mouth, but he also gave us two ears. So that makes it pretty clear to me that the way we were made was to use what we were given in the proper ratio:
One of my favorite new pastimes is walking our dog, Maggie. I get my exercise, she gets her exercise and we are both so much better for it. But we don’t just hook up the leash and go for it…as we have both learned from our obedience school lessons…there is a correct way to walk… and an incorrect way to walk.
The correct way to walk (to heel) keeps Maggie on a loose leash on my left side. She walks even with me and sometimes slightly behind. In this position, I am the leader and I can turn left or right or take an abrupt about-face and she can move with me with ease because she is close to me and can easily see me. Her being in this position is not restrictive to her either because I can also easily keep an eye on her and when she needs to sniff or “take a break” I can simply slow down or stop. I lead, she follows and we both enjoy our walk.
Conversely, the incorrect way for her to walk is ahead of me. As she moves ahead of me, she loses sight of me. Losing sight of me means that she becomes the leader and the decision maker and as I have learned about dogs…they don’t like to make decisions, they need a leader…it stresses them out if they feel they have to lead. So now we have a stressed-out Maggie out in front of me and “pulling” on the leash. (If dogs feel tension on the leash, they naturally feel the need to pull against it…I learned that in “doggie school” too.) So she’s stressed out and pulling against me and now when I want to turn left or right or around, the only way to do so makes me pull on her leash…which creates more stress…in her and in me. The walk becomes a struggle. The enjoyment is gone.
Despite the pulling, the stress, and the anxiety…she always feels the need to initially take the lead and to get out in front of me on our walks. So each time, I have to spend the first few minutes of our walk (and sometimes more…) “reminding her” to heel…and here’s how I do it…
When she takes off and begins to walk ahead, I can tell that she is no longer keeping tabs on me. She is lost in the new smells, the sights, and the countless other things competing for her attention. Once I see that she is no longer aware of my presence…I’ll simply stop walking abruptly and hold tight to the leash. The result is she quickly gets to the end of the leash and she suffers the shock of an immediate “correction”. Meaning…she gets the heck jerked out of herself.
The extent of the jerk is never my doing…it’s always based on the speed and momentum of her moving away from me. The quicker she leaves me…the stronger the impact of the jerk will be when she reaches the end of the leash.
Sometimes I’ll have to start and stop walking several times in a row and each time she’ll jerk, stop and look at me and then when we start walking again…she’ll take off and I’ll stop and she’ll jerk and we do it several times and then she finally catches on. She’ll take off and I’ll stop and she’ll take another step and realize I’ve stopped and then she’ll stop and look back at me until I start walking again. This is our “dance” over who will be the leader of the walk. We do it every night.
The best nights are when we both slowly walk out the front door and slowly turn down onto the sidewalk. One stop and she’s reminded and then she returns to my side (or slightly behind) and off we go. Loose leash, no anxiety, both of us enjoying the walk and each other’s company…
So why go into so much detail about walking a dog…?
Well, I think sometimes God must feel the same way about us. He knows where we should be in relation to Him. He knows that when we keep Him in our sights, our lives are better and we are happier and safer. In essence, he wants us to “heel”.
Yet, we don’t. Like Maggie, each day we take off with our own ideas, agendas, thoughts, beliefs, and needs and it’s not too long before we suffer for it. God simply stops walking and we get jerked by our own doings.
I’ve learned a lot about myself from Maggie. We are more alike than I care to admit. I love that dog with all of my heart and it breaks my heart to see her “corrected” each time we walk. But I just have to love her enough to let her experience the “correction” that she has created by leaving me.
So when I’m feeling stressed, anxious, or frustrated about something, I now think about Maggie and our walks and I ask myself…
As they say, when one door closes, another one opens…and it sure did.
Several weeks after we lost Finn, our 13-year-old poodle, we welcomed into our family Maggie, a 10-year-old Goldendoodle rescue. To say she is a sweetheart is a dramatic understatement, but with all that goodness comes 10 years of baggage that we are seeing glimpses of each day. We were told by her foster parents, that she needed to be “socialized” because she gets really anxious around new people and other animals. We immediately saw that and we have since been adding to that list…cars, trucks, bicycles, noises on TV, and leaves that blow in the wind to name a few… but nonetheless…we love her and all her baggage…God knows we have enough baggage for her as well.
So in an effort to help her cope with those things that have been a negative impact on her previous 10 years of life, we decided to enroll her in a doggy training academy. Each day I take Maggie to doggy daycare where trainers try to help her unlearn some bad behaviors and teach her some new behaviors as well. She’s been great about it all and I can really start to see some progress…but we have a long road ahead.
As part of our enrollment into the academy, they gave us a book to read about dog training, it’s called “Smile!” by Lynne Swanson, DVM. One of the initial chapters of the book really impacted me and I’ll share it below:
“Whether or not anyone is watching, please look up from the book and smile. Even if you don’t feel like smiling, do it anyway. Allow yourself an honest, up-to-your-eyes, laugh-line-creating, smile. I’ll wait.
Did you notice the relaxed breath that followed your smile? Smiles trigger them. Do you notice reduced tension in your shoulders and neck? Perhaps less stiffness in your posture? Smiles help there, too. Smiles are very powerful. If a stranger smiles at you from across the room, you tend to smile back, don’t you? You may even feel in the moment, happier about yourself and a bit more trusting of others.
That is how dogs feel when people offer genuine smiles. Smiles convey a heck of a lot more than words do, and what our facial muscles do to all our other muscles when we smile says volumes about us when we communicate with nonverbal species. As a pretty darn verbal species, we tend to forget that.”
The chapter goes on to say that the author rewards her dogs with only sincere, relaxed smiles. No dog biscuits, no “good dogs” or baby talk…smiles relax dogs and lower their energy level and they are always with you, unlike biscuits or treats.
Since reading this, I’ve made a conscious effort to smile more…way more!
I’m not much of a natural “smile person” and often think of my smile as that look I had the first time I ate broccoli. Not a good look. Regardless, I’ve been smiling and it seems to work! On Maggie and also on ME! I can give Maggie a big smile and immediately I’m in a different state of mind. No longer am I thinking about all the tasks that need to be accomplished that day or who or what had “ticked me off” in some way…but I really think I’m a better version of ME! All by smiling at my dog! Who knew!?
Looks like Maggie isn’t the only one going to school these days…!
Finn was my constant companion when I hurt my ankle…
I’ll bet that anyone that has had a pet has been heartbroken at one time or another. I am living in that space right now.
Finn is 13 years old. Like many pets, certainly dogs, he is a perfect example of pure love, forgiveness, and being present. He never worries, holds grudges, or is in a bad mood. He has been an incredible friend and part of the family. As I write this, my eyes are filling with tears and the lump in my throat is making it difficult to swallow…because I know what is coming and it is breaking my heart.
Finn is suffering. He tries to hide it, but it’s getting the best of him. Not to get into specifics, my wife and I have come to the realization that we need to put an end to his suffering and allow ours to begin for a while… So tomorrow, we are going to have someone come to our house and have him put down.
….no words…
This morning coming to work, I was wrestling with that inevitable decision. I was praying as I drove to work and asking God to give me the strength to be able to go thru with it and then be able to comfort my wife for the difficult days to follow…then it hit me…
This is Easter week. Friday is Good Friday. If I am feeling this way knowing what I know I have to do tomorrow…I now know (in a very small way) how God must have felt knowing what He had to do…
It’s amazing how many Easters I have experienced and how often I have read about and meditated on what Jesus willingly did for us…but I never thought about the anguish of God and what He was going through knowing that He was the one that would end the life of the one he loved so dearly… I can’t imagine…but now I have a small sense of the pain that must have been caused.
God did what needed to be done…regardless of the pain that it caused him. He did it for love. Love for His son and an even greater love for us…His creation. God did it for love.
Now I must do the same.
Finn has brought me an incredible amount of joy and happiness. He is being called home to begin his “forever life” and I need to release him to go…regardless of the pain. I need to do it for love…too.
The tears…the lump in my throat that won’t go away reminds me of that love…the love I have given and the love I have received.
Easter will be different this year…and probably for years to come with the realization of what love really looks…and feels like…. It’s not always pleasant…
Years ago, I was getting a massage. There I was lying on my stomach with my arms down to my sides as the masseuse worked on a pinched nerve in my lower back. I remember her saying, “why are your hands closed, you’re supposed to be relaxing?” I didn’t even realize it! Since that time, I’ve often caught myself “relaxing” with closed or clinched hands! This says a lot about what I sometimes struggle with. Let me explain…
Clinch your hand. Look at it… What does that feel like? Closed-handed living is not good…for you or others. When your hands are closed, you’re more tense and tight. Most likely, you’re closed off from others. You’re giving off that “leave me alone vibe.” Closed-handed living leads one to try to control situations…because they fear losing control. The ironic thing is, that they are losing control of the very thing they are trying to protect! Closed-handed living limits generosity, light-heartedness, and ultimately happiness! Closed-handed living makes you fear being exposed, seen, or scrutinized…it makes you live a small life…
On the flipside, open your hand! You don’t have to stretch it out, just soften it and allow it to open. Look at it and feel what that feels like. Feel as if you’re allowing a baby bird to sit in your palm.
Open-handed living allows people to be more relaxed, happy, and comfortable with themselves and their environment. It allows one to be generous, transparent, and have a healthy view of themselves and their life. Open-handed people tend to be humorous “go with the flow” types of people. Open-handed living attracts people. Open-handed living makes you smile a lot and you’re most likely healthier. Open-handed living may make you a bit more vulnerable, but living openly allows you to feel and sense things better than closed-handed living. Good things usually happen to people that live open-handed.
I know that I sometimes struggle between the two. On my own, I would probably be more close-handed than I would like to admit…but I know it’s not good for me and I intentionally work on being more open-handed…but it’s not natural…yet. I would love to live my life naturally more open-handed and I’m going to keep working on it. It’s certainly worth the effort. Who knows… one day I might be lying on my stomach getting a massage and I’ll hear the masseuse commenting, “Wow, you’re really relaxed!” That would be a good day.
For anyone that has ever interviewed for a job, one of the first questions you’ll most likely hear is, “Tell me about yourself…” To many of us, we hear that and then begin to tell a story that we have told countless times. We select bits and pieces of our life experiences and we weave them together to give the listener an impression of us that we want them to have. But have you ever wondered…is it true?
True, the events most likely actually happened, but does the story we attribute to those events accurately reflect what actually happened and why? And if not…what is the real story?
“Tell me about yourself” statements are WAY more important than what they may appear to be. They actually reveal more about how WE view our lives than how they may actually be. They tend to support a narrative that we have told ourselves about ourselves and support our belief that we are “less than” we could have been or should have been. We are a failure or a victim or that we were mistreated in some way or a number of other reasons or excuses we allow ourselves to cling on to. They basically scream out, it’s not my fault!
But is that true?
Think of ALL the experiences you have had in your life. Think of ALL the challenges you have had and have struggled with, but you found a way to succeed. Think of ALL the people that helped you along the way, and those YOU helped as well. Also, think of the same events of your “old story” and ask yourself, what good came out of that event? Ask yourself what did you learn from it? Basically, go back and view your life through a new lens and craft a story that empowers you! Create a narrative where you are the champion, the hero, the one that wins in the end! You don’t even have to tell anyone…just tell that story to yourself!
Now how do you feel?
Which story is better? Which story is true? Which story “should” you be telling…to yourself?
Although I don’t remember it or the circumstances around my mishap, I do notice a couple of things:
No protective gear. No helmet, no elbow guard…nothing to protect me from the abrasive surface of the concrete sidewalk I encountered.
No help. As I lay on the ground after my fall, my loving parents chose to snap a photo rather than to run to my rescue.
No crying. As you can see from my face, the fall was certainly not planned, but it was also completely under my control…I did it…I fell…
So what can I learn from this “ancient” photo of just one of the many random days of a child learning to live in this world…?
I think I first have to acknowledge that we all fall. We all fail. The difference is, some of us fall back and others of us fall forward.
We’ve all met people that fall back. First, they try to hide it. Then they try to place the blame on someone or something else. They are also clearly not at peace about it. Just talking about the incident whether it was yesterday or 30 years ago will unleash a torrent of emotions that surround the incident. Falling back is not healthy.
So what is falling forward?
Falling forward the act of using the incident to get better. It’s being better for having fallen. It’s learning to take the pain and grow from it into a much stronger and healthier you.
Falling forward I believe requires 4 primary steps.
Reflect. We have to stop and think about what happened. We have to be objective about it and see it as a reporter would report the incident if they witnessed it.
Own it. Regardless of what happened, we have to claim our responsibility in the event. We have to clearly see what we did and how it contributed to our fall…as painful as it might be.
Course correct. We have to learn from it. We have to commit to a change in future behavior if we ever find ourselves in a similar situation.
Be kind. We have to be kind to ourselves. We’ve had enough pain, we don’t need to invent more pain to inflict on ourselves. We also have to be kind to others. We can’t retreat or withdraw. Isolation does not make anything better…exposure usually does. Get back out there!
So there you have it…all of that from one random photo.
I have fallen thousands of times since that day. Many have produced significant amounts of pain for me and others…yet I’ve always tried to fall forward. Falling forward has given me a rich and deep life to reflect upon and I wouldn’t trade any of it…regardless of the pain. I’m a better man for it.
Falling is not failing. It’s a part of life…and a good one if you fall forward.
