May 2011

As a child I always wanted to be “important.” I wanted to make my parents proud by doing some great feat that the rest of the world would marvel at. I wanted to make myself rich beyond my wildest dreams. I wanted to be the center of attention. I wanted to stand out in a crowd. In short, I wanted to conquer the world!

Naturally, in response to these dreams, I spouted out all of the noble occupations I could fathom.

Doctor.
Lawyer.
Politician.
Firefighter… (give me a break, I was six.)

Ultimately, after a couple years of research, it was Engineer that stuck. I figured engineers were cool because some of them made cars.

Yes, you read correctly, by the time I was eight I had already mapped out my entire professional career. I spent the next ten years of my life trying to perfect my drawing skills through competitions and art classes. I enjoyed nearly every second of it. Yet, somewhere along the way my vision began to blur.

So much has changed.

I’ve learned that life is not merely about what I possess, it is much more about what possesses me. It’s about passion. It’s about what I view as important. It is about knowing my function.  I still want to make my parents proud but I’m much more concerned with the opinion of my daughter and my wife. Continue reading “When I Grow Up!” »

THE TREETree with deep roots

Just the other day, during one of the turbulent storms that hit our community, I gazed out the window and witnessed a tree being abused by the fierce winds. With every gust the branches swayed back and forth following their direction. They bended, snapped, and curved against the force thanks to their flexibility to avoid breaking. The leaves, being thrashed by that same wind and the continual movement of the limbs, desperately clung to the branch because their life depended on it. The sturdy and powerful trunk, that holds the tree upright, bends backwards from the force in a battle to maintain its position.  The solid trunk looked like rubber.

After the storm had passed the tree gracefully returned back to its original position standing tall amongst the chaos. It had been through the storm but managed to survive. It didn’t look the same as leaves had shed from it branches, the barked was chipped from the force of the wind, and some of the sediment that surrounded its base had loosened. What matters the most is the tree survived the fight for its life.

How deep are your roots? Continue reading “How Deep Are Your Roots?” »

Hard hat and glovesReading Frank’s inspiring post about Ian’s drum lesson got me all worked up. I have a habit of compartmentalizing segments of my life. This gives me access to tunnel focus. On the other hand, it occasionally causes me to overlook the little things. Much like Ian, I find areas that I’m passionate about and get addicted. By the time I come up for air hours, days, and even weeks have passed. I’m sure you’ve done the same. In light of this truth, have you ever asked yourself, “If today was my last day what would be the lasting impression of me?”

What words would your mom and dad say about this week?

Mom might say something like, “Haven’t heard from the child since Mother’s Day!”

And Dad would say to mom, “At least you heard from him. Father’s Day hasn’t come yet so I haven’t had a solid talk this year!”(Sad times.)

What about your spouse or significant other?

My wife: “This week I know he spent a lot of time at work, on the computer, doing homework and watching sports on television (NBA Playoffs). I didn’t watch with him since the Celtics already lost.”

Continue reading “When it’s over! When it’s done! When the Beat Cease to Play…” »

Tired All The Time?

My mind is so completely full of plans, visions, hopes and dreams that the very thought of all I have to do makes smoke come out of my ears. The vital bodily organ that is supposed to help me make rational decisions is overworked and exhausted. My brain, if it was a person, would be […]

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Playing The Drum Beats of Life

Ian, my six year old son, is learning to play the drums. It is an instrument that has always mesmerized him and captured his attention anytime he hears them played. When I first noticed his interest I assumed, like most boys, he liked them because they make a lot of noise. It wasn’t until I […]

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