Tag Archives: Personal Growth

A Cautionary Tale

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“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.”

–Nelson Mandela (1918-2013; a towering figure in the fight against apartheid in South Africa and a symbol of resilience, reconciliation, and forgiveness worldwide.)

Have you ever found yourself sitting in front of your computer, fingers poised over the keyboard, eyes locked on the blank screen? The cursor blinks, mocking your indecision. The room holds its breath, waiting for your next move. 

Of course you have. We all have. I have, too.

Actually, I had that happen not long ago. I was sitting in front of my computer, enveloped in a curious trance as I looked at my PowerPoint options. Each was a digital beacon of possibilities, beckoning me into a realm where creativity and innovation might dance hand in hand.

My seasoned fingers, once adept at coaxing brilliance from the keys, hovered hesitantly over the mouse, betraying the uncertainty that clouded my thoughts. The screen gazed back at me with patient anticipation, as if urging me to breathe life into the blankness into which I stared.

But as I peered into the depths of the display, my mind became a whirlwind of memories. How many lectures had I crafted with this very tool? How many minds had I ignited with the flicker of a well-placed slide or the resonance of a perfectly timed transition?

And yet, despite my seasoned expertise, I found myself transfixed, caught in the labyrinth of my own imagination. The cursor blinked mockingly, a silent reminder of the silence that echoed through my mind.

I sat there, staring, waiting, realizing that in the digital world of ones and zeros, the true magic lies not in the tools we wield, but in the stories we choose to tell.

Indeed, I had a story to tell. Gina Byrd, Executive Director of the Friends of Handley Library System, had invited me for an “Author Talk” at Bowman Library (Stephens City, VA). My topic? “Reinventing Yourself: Writing Your Next Chapter.”

Several weeks before my talk, Gina and I met at the library so that we could go over logistics.

“Will you be using PowerPoint?”

“No, I don’t think so. I like to walk around the room while I talk.”

It was settled. No PowerPoint.

But when I got back home, the notion swept over me that perhaps I should use PowerPoint. I hesitated for a moment before deciding to reach out to Gina. After all, I had initially dismissed the idea, preferring the freedom of movement without slides. But as I mulled it over, I realized that visual aids could enhance the audience’s understanding of my topic. With a sense of uncertainty If I can keep from it, I fired off an email to Gina:

It occurs to me that I might want to use PowerPoint after all, especially if you all have a remote clicker that I could use as I walk around.

Gina’s prompt reply reassured me:

That’s fine! We have the Clear Touch Panel (it’s basically a huge iPad) and a clicker you can use. If you can bring your presentation on a thumb drive, that would be easiest.

The next day, I talked myself into tackling the PowerPoint presentation.

“Piece of cake. You’re an expert on reinvention. After all, you’ve been reinventing yourself for a lifetime. You’ve got this.”

Sure. Right. Self-talk works most of the time. However, this seemed to be one of those times when it wasn’t working. There I sat, once again, staring at my blank computer screen while PowerPoint stared back at me. Even though I had more than a week to complete the PowerPoint, my mantra was immediate:

“Go on. Just do it. Get it out of the way.”

The glow of the PowerPoint screen beckoned, but I found myself lured instead into chasing the indoor tasks awaiting my attention. The dust bunnies, like mischievous gremlins, taunted me from their hiding places, my laundry begged to be folded and sorted, and my houseplants drooped in silent protest against neglect. As I tackled each chore, a siren call steered me further away from the digital abyss.

The next day, I faced the blank screen once more. It was then that my fear looked back at me. I realized that I had not developed a PowerPoint presentation in more than two years. I realized that I was fearful simply because I was no longer familiar with a task that, in reality, was simple and straightforward.

That settled it. I sat down in front of my computer, determined to develop the presentation, slide by slide. I had no expectation that I would finish it that day, but I resolved to complete a draft. I knew that I had to get past my fear.

The next thing I knew, I found myself ensnared by the choices at my fingertips. Each transition, a delicate balance between subtlety and spectacle, whispered promises of visual delight. Each animation added movement and meaning to static slides. Each carefully selected photograph added depth and resonance to my narrative. The bullets, like soldiers marching in formation, stood ready to deliver their payload of information with precision and clarity. Every click held power, and I was in charge.

I finished my PowerPoint presentation the next day, and I was delighted with it. Actually, I was ecstatic because I had as much fun developing it as I had ever enjoyed in the past.

When I gave my talk at Bowman Library, I realized that my decision to use PowerPoint was a wise one. It helped me navigate my talk smoothly, and, more importantly, it kept everyone engaged. Afterward, several people commented on its effectiveness, with special praise for the transitions, which they felt reinforced the content.

As I drove back home, I started thinking about the PowerPoint battle that I had fought and nearly lost. It would have been so easy for me to have aborted my plan. After all, I hadn’t planned to use PowerPoint initially. But I had changed my mind. What a pity it would have been for me to have lost the battle to the dis-ease that I was experiencing simply because I had not used PowerPoint in more than two years.

Don’t get me wrong. If I were rating the level of my fear, I’d probably give it a 4 on a scale of 10, with 10 being the greatest fear. Actually, that’s not that bad at all, yet it was bad enough to lure me away from the task, not once, not twice, but multiple times.

Without a doubt, I’ve experienced far greater fears in my life. How well I recall getting back on a bicycle after several decades of not riding a bike. There I stood, at the trailhead to the Virginia Creeper Trail, nostalgia tugging at my muscles. The trail stretched downhill before me. I glanced at the path, comforted that Allen–my late partner, who also hadn’t ridden a bike in several decades–was facing the challenge with me. But as I considered the downhill descent, I could neither hide nor disguise my fear. With trembling legs, I pushed off, the wind carrying whispers of both fear and exhilaration. The trail unfolded. I pedaled. I kept on pedaling until I made it to Damascus, 34 miles later, safely past my fear.

More recently, I had a more frightening encounter with a chainsaw. I was finishing a day’s work of taking down some small trees behind my home. I decided to end the job by cutting a sapling. There I stood—a weekend warrior in faded jeans and work boots. The sapling seemed to know exactly how to make the saw bounce back, cut through denim, and rip through flesh, all the way down to but not through my patella—the hinge of leg movement, the guardian of joints. It took twelve stitches and nearly as many weeks to heal my knee.

It took me far longer to bounce back from the deep-seated fear that the chainsaw had instilled. Months passed. Every trip to my basement found me staring at the saw, wondering whether I would ever have the courage to use it again. Determined to conquer the fear, I ordered protective chainsaw chaps. When they arrived, I put them on hesitantly, started the Stihl, and cautiously but triumphantly took down a small tree. I tossed the wood and my fear into the stack for winter fires.

Experiencing fear, especially in certain situations or after a prolonged period of inactivity or after an accident, is a common and normal human response. Fear is a natural part of the human experience.

As a seasoned educator and as a man in his seventies, I’ve seen fear kick ass over and over again as people faced:

● Technology
● Change
● Failure
● Medical Procedures
● Public Speaking
● Rejection
● Regret
● Success
● Letting Go
● Driving
● Aging

The list is endless. But here’s the caution that we all need to hear regardless of who we are or where we are in life. As we navigate life, fear can often stand as a formidable barrier between us and our aspirations. Yet, as I’ve learned through my own experiences, it’s in confronting these fears head-on that we find the true essence of courage and resilience.

I urge you to take a moment to reflect on the fears that may be holding you back—whether it’s the fear of trying something new, the fear of failure, or the fear of the unknown. Embrace these fears not as obstacles but as opportunities for growth and self-discovery.

Just as I conquered my hesitation with PowerPoint, rode a bike after decades, and faced down a chainsaw, you too can overcome the fears that threaten to immobilize you. Step by step, challenge by challenge, you have the power to rewrite your story and embark on a journey of transformation.

I encourage you to take that first step today. Identify one fear that’s lingering in the shadows of your mind and make a commitment to confront it. Whether it’s signing up for that class you’ve been eyeing, reaching out to mend a broken relationship, or simply daring to dream a little bigger—embrace the discomfort, for it’s in pushing past our boundaries that we discover our true potential.

Remember: you are capable of far more than you know. Let’s rise above our fears, embrace the adventure of life, and write the next chapter of our story with courage, resilience, and unwavering determination. The blank page of possibility awaits. Let’s fill it with the triumphs of our bravery.

Go On. Do It. Back Yourself into a Corner.

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“The unexamined life is not worth living.“

—Socrates (470-399 BCE; classical Greek philosopher best known for his Socratic method, which aims to elicit truth by asking questions and engaging in dialogue.)

One of my favorite short stories is Mark Twain’s “The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County” (1865). No doubt you’ve read it, too, and will recall how old garrulous Simon Wheeler traps the narrator with a long-winded tale about a man named Jim Smiley and his famous jumping frog. Wheeler’s rambling accounts of Jim Smiley’s exploits appeal to me, especially as they become increasingly elaborate and exaggerated. Smiley and Wheeler are portrayed as eccentric characters with idiosyncratic behaviors and quirks. Who can forget Smiley’s obsession with betting on animals or Wheeler’s folksy storytelling. The premise of the entire story—a man who trains a frog to jump competitively and then loses a bet because the frog has been tampered with—is inherently absurd, adding to the comedic tone.

More than any of those dimensions, however, I like the story’s situational humor. The narrator is “backed into a corner” by Simon Wheeler and unable to escape until the end of his monotonous monologue. If you look at the story closely, you will discover that everything from the fourth paragraph all the way up to and including the next to the last paragraph is enclosed in quotation marks. This setup creates a sense of trapped amusement. The narrator is helpless in the face of Wheeler’s relentless storytelling and remember, as well, that Wheeler physically corners the narrator with his chair, thereby adding a visual element to the absurd humor.

The juxtaposition of the narrator’s predicament and Wheeler’s obliviousness to his captive audience adds a richness to the subtle humor. Here’s why. Even if readers are not consciously aware of that aspect of the story–that the narrator is literally backed into a corner–it seems to me that they pick up on it intuitively because we can all relate to feeling trapped in real-life situations where we are unable to escape.

Twain succeeded in tapping into a universal experience that readers understand. It’s a perfect “been there, done that” moment.

No doubt, you’ve been there, done that, too. Remember that party where you found yourself cornered by the resident “over-sharer”? They regale you with the intricate details of their recent colonoscopy, leaving you desperately searching for an escape route while nodding along, trapped in a vortex of TMI. Hopefully, over time, you came to terms with your boundaries, and you’re comfortable with giving an assertive but diplomatic response:

“I appreciate your openness, but I have to admit, discussing medical procedures makes me a bit squeamish. Let’s shift the conversation to something more lighthearted.”

Such a response communicates your discomfort with the topic, sets a clear boundary in a respectful manner, redirects the conversation without dismissing the other person, and maintains a friendly and polite tone.

Or maybe your friends dragged you off to a karaoke bar, and despite your protests that you couldn’t carry a tune to save your life, they insisted that you join in. As you droned an off-key rendition of “Every Breath You Take,” you felt like a reluctant participant in a musical hostage situation.

Getting backed into a corner by peers happens over and over again until we take time to reflect on our personal boundaries with a determination to be more assertive. When we gain insights into those areas, we know our limits, we know how to stand firm, and we know how to say “no.”

Or maybe you got backed into a corner at a family gathering where you’re bombarded with questions about your career, relationship status, and future plans. Despite your discomfort, you navigated the awkward interrogations with forced smiles and vague answers, feeling trapped in a whirlwind of familial expectations and scrutiny.

How can you avoid feeling trapped in future family gatherings? Consider your comfort level with discussing personal topics. Set your own boundaries. Once again, by gaining insights into those areas, you can navigate future events with greater ease and respond to questions assertively and confidently.

Hopefully, you’re getting my point. We’re all backed into corners by family and friends in social situations where we never expected to be in the corner, feeling so uncomfortable.

But if we seize those encounters as opportunities to examine why we felt uncomfortable, to clarify in our own minds our beliefs, to understand the nature of our boundaries, and to resolve to assert ourselves, we can navigate future social situations like that with far greater confidence, simply because we took the time to examine ourselves.

I am reminded of something that acclaimed writer Mary E. Wilkins Freeman once said:

Sometimes I believe that the greatest thing a man’s friends can do for him is to drive him in a corner with God.

Whoever, whatever, whenever, wherever or even if God is, we all know exactly what Freeman has in mind. It’s that final moment of reckoning when we are accountable unto ourselves.

But here’s the thing. Why wait for friends? More likely than not, our friends are too polite. More likely than not, our friends are too nonconfrontational. More likely than not, our friends are too diplomatic. Let’s not wait, then, for our friends to drive us in a corner. Let’s not expect God to be in the corner waiting for us, either. Let’s just go on and do it. Let’s just go ahead and back ourselves into our own uncomfortable corners so that once and for all, we have to address major issues that we can’t escape. Let’s not avoid them. Let’s not pay lip service to them. Let’s not talk out of both sides of our mouths about them. Let’s simply back ourselves into our respective corners, examine the issues, and discover where we stand.

God knows that I’ve lived long enough to back myself into lots of corners. For some, I’ve been in them so often and so long that they’re rounded. For others, I’ve just gotten in them, and I’m discovering their recency, their rawness, and their sharpness. Let me share some of my corners. As you read about mine, be mindful that I am not trying to convince you to share my beliefs. You’ve got your own beliefs and your own corners–soft or hard. At the same time, I am encouraging you to back yourself into your own corners and to examine your issues and concerns in private before the world forces you to examine them in public.

One of my corners deals with Racism and Discrimination. Growing up in West Virginia coal camps alongside African Americans, Whites, Greeks Hispanics, Jews, Italians, and Hungarians, I witnessed the power of unity and mutual respect. Our dads worked together in the mines; our moms cooked together in the kitchens; and we kids played together in the yards. We recognized each other’s humanity and worth. Today, I cringe when I witness racism and discrimination that cast a dark shadow over all of us. I am pained as I examine the harsh reality of ongoing injustices and the destructive impact of discrimination. Yet, I remain steadfast in my belief in the interconnectedness of humanity and our entitlement to equal rights. Simply acknowledging the problem isn’t sufficient; we must actively advocate for change and dismantle oppressive structures. By standing in solidarity with marginalized communities and confronting racism abd discrimination head-on, we can move towards a more just and cohesive society. Every individual, regardless of race or background, deserves to be valued and respected. It’s time to build a future where equality and inclusion are the cornerstones of our society.

The Russia-Ukraine War and the Israel-Gaza Crisis leave me speechless in disbelief as I examine the issues in my corner. How can this be happening in our world today? The unprovoked invasion by Russia into Ukraine and the attacks from Gaza into Israel are stark reminders of the fragility of peace and stability in our world. In these tumultuous times, I firmly believe that the United States and other nations must stand together on the side of justice and righteousness. We cannot turn a blind eye to aggression and violence. It’s imperative for the international community to rally behind efforts for peace, diplomacy, and the protection of innocent lives. We must advocate for dialogue, de-escalation, and respect for international law to ensure a safer and more just world for all.

Another corner that I’m examining is Artificial Intelligence (AI). As a staunch AI supporter, I’m deeply concerned by the lack of awareness surrounding its potential and our collective responsibility in shaping its trajectory for the greater good of mankind. AI has the power to revolutionize countless aspects of our lives, from healthcare to transportation, education to entertainment. However, without careful consideration and ethical oversight, there’s a risk of unintended consequences and misuse. We must advocate for transparency, accountability, and inclusivity in the development and deployment of AI technologies. By promoting education and fostering informed dialogue, we can ensure that AI is harnessed responsibly to benefit humanity as a whole, rather than serving narrow interests or exacerbating existing inequalities. Let’s work together to shape a future where AI serves as a force for progress and empowerment, guided by principles of ethics, empathy, and equity.

You’ll find me in a corner, too, with Global Warming. It terrifies me. Its effects are undeniable. Extreme weather and melting ice caps make it clear. Our planet is in crisis. I’m so alarmed that I even contemplate solutions like space colonization. But while this idea may gain traction, it shouldn’t be our first resort. Instead, urgent action is needed. Transitioning to renewables and reducing emissions are crucial steps. The time for change is now. We must prioritize Earth’s preservation, ensuring space colonization remains a last resort.

My next corner is a hard one because discussing politics has never been my cup of tea. But with a Presidential Election ahead of us–presumably between President Biden and Donald Trump–I feel compelled to examine where I stand. Key issues like the economy, world trade, green investments, race, and criminal justice weigh heavily on my mind. In those areas–and others–President Biden earns my support with his comprehensive plans and commitment to progress. However, there’s one more crucial factor that will sway my vote: morality and decency. In this election, every vote cast will shape the narrative of a major morality play. The character and integrity of our leaders matter deeply. It’s about more than policies; it’s about the soul of our nation. I believe President Biden embodies the values of empathy, integrity, and decency that are essential for effective leadership. While I may not agree with every decision or policy, I trust that President Biden will lead with compassion and integrity, prioritizing the well-being of all Americans. At the end of the day, my vote for him may just tip the scales towards a more just and compassionate future.

Economic Inequality hits home for me, too. As the son of a West Virginia coal miner whose family often lived from paycheck to paycheck, I know firsthand all about economic inequality. Despite some progress, I still see in my own community the struggle of living on an inadequate minimum wage. It’s frustrating to witness marginalized groups face barriers to advancement, especially when it comes to leadership roles and fair pay. Addressing these issues demands systemic change in workplaces. Additionally, the current minimum wage barely covers basic needs, widening the wealth gap. I firmly believe in raising the minimum wage, implementing fair tax policies, and investing in education as crucial steps. We must break barriers so that everyone can have a shot at a better future.

What can I say about my LGBTQ+ corner? I’m intimately familiar with the journey of self-discovery, self-examination, and the courage it takes to live authentically. Growing up, I carried the weight of my identity, aware of my differences before I even started school. All along my journey, I assumed that everyone knew that I was gay. However, it wasn’t until I reached the age of 50 and found my soulmate that I felt emboldened to “come out.” I had Allen’s support. I had Emerson’s backing, expressed so eloquently in his “Self-Reliance.” My colleagues, my students, and my friends made me know the warmth and authenticity of their embraces, yet I encountered unexpected pushback, rebuke, and rejection from some members of my own family. My personal journey underscores the importance of advocating for LGBTQ+ rights. While we’ve made significant progress, regressive actions both domestically and internationally threaten the rights and protections we’ve fought for. Discriminatory laws persist, jeopardizing the hard-won gains of the LGBTQ+ community. From rollbacks on protections for transgender individuals to the criminalization of same-sex relationships, the fight for equality continues. Despite the challenges we face, I remain steadfast in my belief in our right to live authentically, free from discrimination. We must persevere in our advocacy efforts, challenging discriminatory practices and demanding equality for all LGBTQ+ individuals. Together, we can work towards a future where LGBTQ+ individuals are fully recognized, respected, and afforded the same rights as everyone else.

In addition to these societal challenges, what about Women’s Rights? The persisting inequities within homes and workplaces, coupled with debates on reproductive autonomy, require examination, too. The burden of domestic responsibilities disproportionately falls on women, intertwining with workplace disparities like the unyielding gender pay gap. Conversations surrounding women’s reproductive rights, notably access to abortions, remain a contentious battleground. Addressing these issues isn’t merely a call for justice; it’s an urgent plea for societal transformation. Let us back ourselves into the corners of these crucial discussions, questioning norms, challenging biases, and advocating for a world where women stand on equal ground in every facet of life.

I’ve saved my overarching corner for last. Am I my brother’s keeper? Absolutely. Yes. It doesn’t matter whether you’re gay or straight; poor or wealthy; Democrat or Republication; believer in climate change or not; for or against AI; Russian or Ukrainian; Jew or Palestinian; African American, White, Greek Hispanic, Italian, Hungarian, or any other cultural group. My conviction runs deep and is rooted in my belief that we are all interconnected, all part of the same human family. My brother isn’t just a blood relative; they’re every person I encounter, every life I touch. Witnessing and examining the struggles and injustices faced by one or faced by all fuels my passion for advocacy and compassion. It’s not enough to stand idly by; I am compelled to act, to uplift, and to support those in need. Whether through lending a helping hand, speaking out against injustice, or simply offering a listening ear, I embrace my role as my brother’s keeper. Together, we can build a world where empathy and solidarity reign, where every individual is valued and empowered to thrive.

Obviously, numerous other issues weigh heavily on my spirit, too. Environmental Sustainability. Healthcare Access. Education Equity. Immigration Reform. Their significance is not lost on me. Often, I’m in my corner examining them, too.

I know all too well that life’s demands and distractions can easily cause us to sidestep uncomfortable truths and to skirt prickly issues that challenge our beliefs and convictions. However, I maintain that one of the most enlightening experiences we can gift ourselves is to willingly back ourselves into a corner, metaphorically speaking, where we are compelled to confront and examine the depths of our convictions and the authenticity of our beliefs. By immersing ourselves in situations that demand introspection and self-examination, we open the door to profound personal growth and a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us.

I didn’t intend for today’s post to end up being a call to action. Yet, it is. I’m asking that we examine our core beliefs about the issues that matter most to us. We don’t have to march out onto the world’s stage and be advocates if we’re uncomfortable being front and center, wearing the shield of our beliefs. However, when the world comes to us–as it most assuredly will, at parties, at family gatherings, among peers, or even at work–I hope that we are bold enough not only to share our beliefs but also to stand by them.

Today, I challenge you to examine your life and to examine the issues that surround not only you but also the rest of the world. Go on. Do it. Back yourself into a corner.

Flipping the Switch: Exploring Life’s ON/OFF Dynamics

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“Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom.”

–Aristotle (384–322 BC; Greek philosopher whose foundational contributions to philosophy, science, and ethics profoundly influenced Western thought and continue to shape intellectual inquiry today.)

As a lifelong learner, I never cease to be amazed by the little things that I learn–more or less by accident or by trial and error–that have far-reaching significance when I apply them to my life.

One day last week, for example, I was in the kitchen after dinner, trying to make the biggest decision of the day. Do I use the dishwasher? Do I wash the dishes by hand?

It was hardly a decision. Actually, it was a no-brainer, especially since we had seven inches of snow on the ground, and I had spent a lot of energy that day clearing the stone walkway and the gravel driveway. It was a quick and decisive win for the dishwasher.

I loaded it systematically, popped in the little Cascade pod, selected NORMAL and SANITIZE, pressed START, and closed the door. Usually, at that moment, a red beam flashes on the floor, just below the dishwasher’s door. I never look to make certain, but this time, something made me look back. No light.

Hmmm. Maybe I didn’t press START. I opened the door, pressed START, and closed the door. Once again, the light did not shine its beam.

I opened the dishwasher and looked at the control panel more carefully. To the far left, I saw ON/OFF. Then I remembered the electrical hiccup earlier in the day. Maybe if I turned the dishwasher OFF and waited for a while, it would reset itself. If powering OFF works for computers and other gadgets, it might work for dishwashers, too.

Sure enough. Five minutes later, I pressed ON, NORMAL, SANITIZE, and START. The red light beamed on the floor, and my Bosch worked as beautifully as ever.

Imagine that! All that it took was turning it OFF, waiting a bit, and turning it back ON. One switch was all that it took to get it going again, just like new.

Somehow, I immediately started thinking about aspects of my life where I might need to press the OFF switch in order to come back ON again with greater vigor.

I wasn’t thinking about a major life reset, nudging me to step back in order to get back on course. I wasn’t thinking about having a day of unplugging my Smartphone, my PC, and my other electronics as people are challenged and encouraged to do on the Global Day of Unplugging.

What I had in mind was exploring some areas of my life that I could turn OFF long enough to allow me to step back, evaluate, develop new strategies, and then turn back ON with a new sense of purpose and joy.

Luckily, my life is simple. I do what I do by choice. I try to avoid extraneous activities or social connections that aren’t meaningful.

Luckily, too, I don’t need to push the OFF switch on areas of my life such as finances, friendships, reinvention, research, or writing. They can remain ON.

Luckily, I don’t have a lot of OFF/ON considerations to make. Nonetheless, I have a few things to consider.

The first thing that sprouted in my mind was gardening. How ironic considering the seven inches of snow on the ground. But, hey, my first gardening catalog had arrived from Plant Delights Nursery, and I had been in a lustful mood ever since. Who wouldn’t be with gorgeous specimens such as Philipp Hardy Ladyslipper Orchid and Gay Paree Peony staring at me, winking at me, and tempting me.

The shameless seduction went on, page after page. Every time I saw a hot specimen that I had to have, I dog-eared that page. The catalog had 113 pages, and that’s exactly how many dog ears I had. Don’t worry. With each wink, I mentally surveyed my snow-covered garden, planning where I would bed down this plant and where I would tuck in the next plant and the next and the next.

And the next thing I knew, I pressed my gardening OFF switch. Here’s why. My garden beds have always involved huge investments of time and money. For twenty years, my late partner and I took great joy in creating new beds and putting in new specimen plants. Each year, the gardens and our investments grew exponentially. However, since Allen’s death, I’ve had to do the “doing” alone.

What better time than right now in the dead of winter with snow on the ground to press the gardening OFF switch? Maybe my decision will provide unexpected emotional healing. Maybe it will allow me to acknowledge the weight of past investments and the changes that have occurred in my life during the last three years. By giving myself permission to hit the OFF switch and step back, maybe I’ll be honoring Allen’s memories while also prioritizing my own well-being. Maybe my ultimate decision will be to focus on garden maintenance and garden celebration instead of new projects and new plants. It might give me a deeper appreciation for the beauty of the present moment while laying the groundwork for continued growth and creativity in the gardening seasons yet to come.

Then, I started thinking about cooking and baking. Next to gardening, that’s probably the area in my life gobbling up the most time and money. Don’t get me wrong. I love my kitchen adventures. But here’s the thing. I like to cook daily, using fresh ingredients bought daily. While I like simple down-home foods, more often than not, I’m traipsing into the more complicated culinary wilderness of international cuisines, especially Thai and Vietnamese. To make matters more complex, I don’t like leftovers, especially if I’m going to pop them into the freezer to be thawed for future consumption. Sorry. It just doesn’t turn me on at all. On top of all that, these days I’m cooking and baking most of the time just for me. I still use my best linens, china, flatware, and stemware daily, but it can be a challenge even when I’m dining by candlelight or in front of the kitchen fireplace.

If it sounds lovely, it is. But I’m wondering what would happen if I turned my cooking/baking switch OFF for a while, maybe for just a week. Maybe stepping away from daily cooking and baking routines would prompt me to appreciate the simplicity of meals prepared with minimal effort. Or I might discover the joy of uncomplicated dishes and find satisfaction in the ease of preparation. Or maybe it would deepen my appreciation for the artistry and craftsmanship of professional chefs, especially if I ate out or (God forbid!) ordered takeout during my OFF week. It might inspire me with new culinary ideas and perspectives and enrich my future cooking endeavors. If nothing else, stepping away only to reaffirm my belief that home cooking always wins would be worth switching to OFF for a week.

Next up, my exercise routine. I’ve been biking indoors seven days a week for 20+ years. Obviously, I love my Schwinn. In addition, I have a LifeFitness weightlifting system, and I try to work out three times a week. However, if I had to pick one word to describe how I feel about my exercise routine these days, it would be boring. Yep. Boring. I really need to hit the OFF switch for a while. Even before I do, I know that I will be miserable and grouchy. Aside from needing physical benefits, I need the emotional centering that biking gives me. Maybe I need to “miss” it in order to rekindle the flame. But what about the weights? I ain’t missing them at all, yet I know that a man my age needs to lift weights to maintain muscle strength and bone density. Who knows what my OFF time will do? Maybe I’ll end up joining a local gym so that I have more structure, discipline, camaraderie, and even competition. OMG! Maybe I’ll end up with a personal trainer. Double OMG!! Maybe I’ll end up with a home sauna as an incentive to work up a sweat. Triple OMG!!! Maybe both, at home!

I have one last dimension of my life to think about. My spirituality. I like to believe that I know who I am. I like to believe that I know my core values and beliefs. I like to believe that I know how things stand between me and the universe and a snowy winter day. I like to believe that I listen to the constant whisperings of my inner voice.

Yet, even in the still and calm of my mountain world, the busy-ness of my daily life creates mind chatter that interferes with spiritual communication signals. It’s been a while since the flutter of angel wings, the sound of unknown voices, or the mysteries of Third Eye visions have made me pause, longing for lasting. I want those spiritual moments to be more frequent and more abiding.

To reach them, I won’t turn my spirituality switch to OFF. Instead, I will turn everything else OFF as I head off to a retreat–perhaps a day, perhaps a weekend, or perhaps a week–with nothing required of me other than honoring a vow of silence so that I might better hear the sound of my soul calling.

Flipping the switches to OFF will not redefine me. It will refuel me.

Flipping the switches to OFF will not weaken me. It will strengthen me.

Flipping the switches to OFF will ignite a more profound ON and will push me forward, nourished, rejuvenated and powered by newfound vigor and dynamics.