THE DISCOMFORT ZONE

Ernest Hemmingway once said: “Write hard and clear about what hurts.” 

I’ve always thought this was good advice.  It’s what has fueled me for the last 20 years since I started journaling.  I only recently started sharing what I’ve written and the parts of myself that I typically keep sheltered within the past year.  I can thank my mom for getting started for that, actually.  She always used to encourage me to put myself out there because she knew what a strong passion I held for writing and for literature. 

But let’s face it—putting yourself out there can be frightening.  It’s vulnerability in its purest form.  The world in which we live today is highly opinionated and judgmental.  And sharing your feelings and emotions is not something that comes easy for some.  It has certainly never come easy for me…at least verbally.

I’ve always been a self-proclaimed “chief” of sorts.  I find a sense of relief in being able to keep my shit together in challenging times.  For me it represents self-control.  And a lot of the time it’s easy.  You don’t have to allow the outside world in and share anything; you just execute and get through things alone and the outside perception of being able to be strong is gratifying in a way.  But just because it’s easy, doesn’t mean it’s easy.  It can be very lonesome at times.  It’s isolation at its best. 

I have found myself a little rattled this week…like I’m about to lose my shit.  I always know when the onset of grief is coming these days, especially after my mom died last year.  I knew when I woke up this morning today would be a struggle.  I’m feeling unsettled this week because of the looming uncertainty of my professional future.  I know this is normal, and I know I have prepared as well as I could for it.  It still doesn’t remove the emotional component of building something great and watching it all slip between your fingers like a fine grain sand. 

Watching the team we built at work gradually disappear.  The clients we have helped be repositioned.  The goals these clients have achieved through our relationships with them realized, now belonging to someone else.  And having to allocate all of these things in the appropriate direction forward.  It has been similar to watching someone die in a way. 

Death has a funny way of teaching you a lot about yourself and it also has a funny way of making you change things about yourself, too.  Prior to my mom dying last year I lived a very self-contained life.  I’ve always been the friend, colleague, and romantic partner who was the pillar of strength—the go-to person inside of the relationship.  Financial support.  Advice.  Comfort.  Emotional support.  A personal shrink without the cost.  And I leveraged my journal to keep myself sane.  Other times I would run away for an out-of-town adventure and deflect to fun to cope with my own demons.  Very rarely would I allow someone access to the innermost workings of my brain or my heart.  Those who are the closet to me know this about me.  They are also the few who have been able to gain access to become my village, forcing me to get out of my own way.

I have always found it difficult to fully open up to people, which most may find hard to believe considering the extroverted side of me paints a different picture.  While I am open in many ways, I am typically only superficially open about my life on a personal level.  I’ve always been the fun friend, the humorous friend, the loyal friend, or the person you call to take your mind off of grown up life to go have fun with.  And while I enjoy all of these things, too, and spending this time with my friends there is also that part of me who wants this person to lean on as well.  But it’s a double-edged sword:  you can’t want something you aren’t willing to allow.

This is one of numerous reasons my ex-husband and I didn’t see things the same way.  But then again, I’m glad I kept myself closed off because it would have been wasted energy and effort.  While I trusted my instincts to protect myself from being too emotionally invested (a lesson learned in hindsight), it begs the question and challenge for me to be different for the next person—the right person.  I think it’s our intrinsic nature to be guarded and understandably so.  The world is full of crazy, selfish, unreliable people and these aren’t exactly the people you want to make a huge emotional commitment to because they are almost always short-term people.  When instinct takes over, you always know the right moment in which you can disclose yourself to someone; I’ve never found this to be a challenge with my closest friends or the core group of people who know me best.  Even if it does take me longer to get there with them.    

In learning all of these unfavorable lessons about myself over the course of the past three years, I’ve also learned how to be different moving forward.  I am a firm believer that when you are in full understanding of yourself—all of the good, the bad, and the ugly—the right things will come along in your life.  I quit looking outward a long time ago simply because I was content being alone and firmly felt that if the right people were to enter my life, I would just know and I wouldn’t be reserved or guarded.  One other thing I firmly believe in, too, is to trust my instincts now.  When something doesn’t feel right, I abandon ship before making any investments.  And thus far, it has worked out for the best for everyone involved. 

Just like unexpected events will arrive in your life, so will unexpected people.  These are the kind of people you never see coming.  But if you are willing to pay attention and you are willing to be different, these kind of encounters yield a return beyond the realm of intellectual understanding.  So for anyone who doubts (and I have been one of those people)—the right people will enter your life (likely at the least opportune time) and will completely shake you to your core.  And you will welcome it because it feels right.  

Regardless of timing, life events happening around you, or however deep your drive is to continue as you always have, I can tell you that when moments like these happen you need to embrace them because they rarely happen.  And when they do happen, challenge yourself to be different and accepting and willing to allow these people access to your soul.  The growth you will experience and the depth you will achieve will be far greater than the risk of being hurt.  You are never guaranteed anything in this life.  Of this I am 100% certain after the past year.  But I can tell you that once you achieve this level of intimacy with a person, everything will make sense and you will lead without hesitation because the feelings will be mutual. 

And like Hemmingway says about writing what hurts, you should share the hurt with the people who have a genuine concern, too.  Vulnerability may be messy, feel funny, or be out of your comfort zone.  You never grow until you’re willing to be uncomfortable. 

As for the people who love you?  They’ll help push you along. 

And you’ll let them because you’re at home with them.

-BWT

“We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we are not alone.”

— Orson Welles

THE UNEXPECTED

As a financial services provider, my job is to help my clients manage risk and prepare for the unexpected.  I’ve spent countless career hours advising my clients on how to protect their wealth, structure their assets, protect their legacy, plan for their eventual demise, properly transition their business, etc.  It’s in my DNA at this stage of my profession (and life) to constantly be thinking about the unexpected.  Because when you’re prepared, there is little to worry over and you can focus on the emotion rather than mitigate a shitty circumstance.  You can plan for just about anything in life (the Gospel, as spoken by a practitioner of the OCD way).  You can organize and you can look long-term and strategically implement just about anything to help thwart off problems.  However, with all of the planning in the world taking place, you can never predict how you will feel when the moment actually occurs. 

For the past ten years of my 17-year career, I’ve guided people through these major life changes and while some of my own advice prepared me for most of what I’ve experienced in the past year, most of my advice didn’t prepare me for how I would feel following the life event.  In the past 12 months I’ve experienced divorce, the death of a parent, and now I am at the threshold of hell waiting for my job role to terminate upon the merger of my company with another. 

And the adage that the best things happen unexpectedly really is true. 

That sounds funny following what I just said, right?

I’m here to debunk the myth that when shitty things happen that you must only focus on the negative of the situation.  Initially, I think it’s okay to embrace the overall “suck factor” that major life changes bring; it makes you human.  But in the aftershock of the initial event, you are left with two choices:  to let it break you or let it make you. 

I was prepared to leave my marriage.  By the time 2016 was realized and after two years of mental and physical absence, I was adequately equipped to walk away knowing it was the right decision for me and my son.  Sure, the initial onset of mentally and emotionally giving up on it in 2015 felt strange; it was no longer about me and more about preservation of the family unit.  But once I realized that my family unit was comprised of me and my son and the life I had worked to create for him, it no longer seemed to make sense to stay in a marriage that was self-serving for one. 

I’m not afraid to admit my shortcomings inside of my marriage either. 

What I learned about myself was that I wasn’t the best verbal communicator—I’ve always been better on paper or in non-verbal situations when inside of a romantic relationship with someone.  (Which seems odd considering that anyone who knows me knows that I am not bashful about sharing my feelings or opinions or making a point when necessary).  However, I often felt like sometimes the best defense was to keep matters to myself because I never felt heard or appreciated from the very beginning.  But rather than cry over the death of my marriage, I chose to view it as a learning opportunity.  I began to study the nature of people inside of a relationship with more depth than before.  It allowed me an opportunity to really understand myself more—my strengths and my weaknesses.  To see the value of true compatibility with someone.  To wholly understand the need for effective communication rather than blaming the other person.  What it means to be accountable to yourself inside of a romantic relationship.  What it means to give without expectation and still maintain my personal boundaries.  And the greatest lesson I took with me was that I was deserving of the type of love I was capable of offering to another person.  Despite my imperfections, the right person would understand me and appreciate me regardless of my eccentricities.  And that one day I would meet the right person with whom I could share my life rather than let the relationship expectations dictate my life.

It was on the coattails of this realization that the unexpected EF5 struck:  my mother died at the age of 59, just two days after my birthday.  I have always been cognizant as an only child that I would one day have to face the death of my parents.  And while I knew this would inevitably happen, nothing in the world prepares you for having this life event realized.  It truly is a total loss.  Even in spite of having a tumultuous relationship with my mother, I never fully knew or embraced all of the times that were potentially the last moments I would have with her.  Following her death last August I began to run through all of those moments I could have acted differently or chosen differently.  The horrible things I said about her and to her at times.  All of the times I should have called her back when she would call.  All of the times I said I would stop by to see her but would change my mind.  The list was endless.  Regret.  All of the doubts I began to feel for not doing a better job as a daughter.   

I remember sitting on my kitchen floor about a month after she died, deep in to my second bottle of wine, listening to some gut-wrenching songs on my iPod.  My heart and my head were full of this contempt of my behavior toward her, especially in the previous decade.  It was then that I had the realization that if I continued to think this way, and continued to analyze all of the things I should have said or should have done, that I was going to dishonor her memory and her role as my mother.  It was in this intricate moment of grief that I remembered all of the things she did for me—that despite my haughtiness at times she still loved me with such dedicated concentration, the way a mother can only love her child—and I remembered how significant my role would be in serving my son in the same manner.  So I made the decision in this moment of extreme loss to begin living each day as though it were my last, the way she would have wanted me to keep living.  I knew then that in order for me to honor her as my mother that I had to do this because it is what she would have expected me to do.  She was always so proud of my strength and tenacity and approach to life.  If I gave up on these things in this moment of remorse, I would be giving up on what she held so dear with respect to me.  In spite of how awful I was toward her at times, I never lost sight of the fact that she was and will always be the one who heard my heartbeat before anyone else and she knew me better than most ever will. 

In the months following both of these life events, I grew more personally than I ever have before.  I’m thankful for those moments because without them I wouldn’t be where I am today.  I’m still not perfect, but I will never give up on my quest to work hard.  I will never be perfect, but I will wake up every day with a sense of purpose and a sense of dedication to the day—not the person I want to be 10 years from today.  I will never know every thing, but I will never give up on learning new things and growing. 

And just when you think things are starting to settle down, the universe will often remind you of the need to continue growing…you know, like having your company announce that your job role is being eliminated.

So if I can offer any lessons to anyone these days it would be these:  just when you think things are going to settle down, the universe will always throw another monkey wrench at you while riding your bicycle on the path to utopia.  So abandon perfection; it’s not real.  Quit looking at Facebook wishing your life was like someone else’s; you’re only getting a glimpse of a moment of happiness.  Pay attention to the little things; they are often the biggest indicator that something amazing will happen.  Pay attention to people and listen to them.  Be open to possibilities because you never know the end result.  Wake up every morning with the thought that you can reinvent yourself, even if the day before was your worst one yet.  Quit over-planning everything because a toddler or "adultyness" will inevitably napalm the best laid plans.  Love and invest in those who mirror your soul and embrace all you are without judgment.  Give these people the same in return because tomorrow isn’t promised and you never know how deep of an impact you may be offering.  Always trust your instincts; it's your body's way of telling you it's time to keep moving. 

And just when you get comfortable again, the unexpected will happen and it may be the greatest love, lesson, or surprise of your life so pay attention.

-BWT

“To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.”

— Mary Oliver

THE RING

I recently had a breakthrough.  Not a major breakthrough, but a breakthrough nonetheless.  I was getting ready for work one day and it occurred to me that the engagement ring I had housed in my jewelry box would look really nice with an outfit I had chosen for the day.  It really is beautiful:  simple, yet elegant in all of its emerald cut glory.  It has been more than a year and half since this ring donned my left ring finger and I found myself wondering if it would be all right to put it back on.  After all, the very thing it represented was no longer present, yet this beautiful piece of jewelry sat alone, embedded between my grandmother’s engagement ring and my old wedding band.  It wasn’t serving a purpose any longer, but I also couldn’t take my eyes off of it this particular day. 

Society tells you that when your marriage is ending or it has ended, the rings must be removed.  It’s the perception that it is a normal progression forward.  Acceptance that the end has arrived.  There are many who elect not to wear a ring, too.  Wearing a ring doesn’t make you any more married than being legally married to someone.  I’ve witnessed countless scenarios where two committed individuals didn’t need to conform to a standard that “everyone else” expected and perceived as “normal”.  They were more committed to one another than most “visibly” married people I know.  People remove their ring for a number of reasons, too:  when they can no longer trust their partner; when their partner cheats; when they feel neglected or unappreciated; in spite of their partner; or because they are tired of presenting themselves as married when the relationship with their partner doesn’t mirror with the term married. 

For whatever reason it may be, it’s often highly personal and there is a definitive emotional distinction between feeling married and no longer feeling married.  A feeling that engulfs you, really.  I remember the precise moment I removed my ring and why.  It was a month before my annual Indianapolis 500 trip in 2016 with my little sister from ZTA.  I was standing at my jewelry box removing the jewelry I had worn for the day and it was in this moment that I questioned why I still had my rings on my hand.    

After all, I had been living alone for more than two years in 2016.  Raising my son and my stepdaughter.  Working 55-60 hours per week.  Keeping up with the bills.  The groceries.  Sick kids.  School activities.  If something broke, it was on me to ensure it got repaired.  All. Of. The. Things.  There was no one else to depend upon and I was supposedly married.  The person who was supposed to be my partner was absent by choice.  Prior to this night, I had many moments of clarity since 2014 when my spouse left.  But this one was different.  It was my final moment of clarity.  I knew that I would no longer be able to look past this moment.  The life I agreed to didn’t exist.  And if it was all going to be on me anyway, I might as well embrace the journey alone.  Mentally, I had checked out a year before this moment occurred, merely going through the motions. But it was in this moment I became empowered to quit living a lie and proceed forward with the life I had failed to realize I had created for myself. 

So that night, my rings came off with the rest of my jewelry and sat in the jewelry box alone; just as I was alone on the journey ahead.    

The next day I continued forward alone, just as I had for a large part of my relationship well in to my marriage.  And oddly, it was a sense of release.  Release of the anger, resentment, and frustration.  I let go of the life I expected and realized the life I had in front of me.  And mostly, I let go of the person I thought would be there for me through all of life’s ups and downs.  I felt freed from my own internal prison and I knew I would survive. 

Once upon a time, my rings were a symbol of something.  Of someone.  A promise of a life with someone with whom I dedicated myself; and him to me.  To honor one another.  To love one another.  A promise for better or for worse.  And on this day in 2017 in the aftermath, I stood there trying to remember these things and I fell short.  All I saw when I stood there looking at my engagement ring was something that reminded me of survival.  I was on the other side and there was no going back, and I didn't want to.  I felt relief.  Absolution.  I survived and I was living the life I had imagined. 

And I smiled. 

I smiled not because I remembered the proposal or the vows; I smiled because I learned something and I grew.  I smiled because I remembered the moment I crossed over to the side of reason instead of continuing to live in the fantasy world of it will work itself out.  Because it never worked itself out.  It never works itself out; it takes two people.  I smiled because sometimes when we think we are doing the right thing, we aren’t and we need to have the strength to walk away.  And I smiled because in this moment I knew I had made the right decision for me and my son. 

So, I decided to put the ring back on…the right hand, of course.

Statement pieces can be powerful…in more ways than one.

-BWT

“If you understand something, you don’t forgive it, you are the thing itself: forgiveness is for what you don’t understand.”

— Doris Lessing, To Room Nineteen

THE INVESTMENT

February is proving to historically be a month in which my life is presented with catalysts.  For the past several years, the month of February marks a month in which people enter my life to catapult me in to another hemisphere of awareness.  Today was nothing short of a gift, and I am so full of amazement tonight that I just couldn’t let it go. 

Awareness:  it is life’s greatest gift.  Really.  I can’t believe most days how little I used to pay attention to the details this life has to offer.  Until two years ago, I didn’t realize just how selfish and secluded in my own way of thinking and living I had become.  A failed marriage, life as a single mother, in a job I hated, and physically feeling like the world was collapsing on me I genuinely began to question my existence.  (Not in a suicidal manner mind you; but in a mere "purpose" sense).  My reality was questionable and the only real truth I knew was that I had to keep it together for the little boy I was raising. 

I learned some pretty amazing things today that reaffirmed my belief in this thing we call life:  the greatest gift you can give people is your time and a part of yourself.  Today the universe was speaking to me for certain and it occurred to me just how lucky I am to be in a place in life to be awake.    

My day began with meeting a prospective client, which most of my days do begin this way.  But today was different, and I knew it would be the moment my feet hit the floor.  It was a feeling.  And one thing I’ve learned in a very real and deep way in the past two years is that you should always trust your gut feelings and instincts.  I didn’t just meet a prospect today…I met a soul connection.  These are my absolute favorite kinds of connections because they are the moments you realize we are walking in the same life and sometimes we are all so parallel and unaware by choice.  It’s such a wonderful feeling to meet people at the right moment at the time you absolutely need it.  Today was that day, but it was met in not just one meeting but five.  (I felt like I was close to reaching Mitch Albom status today and The Five People You Meet in Heaven).  Sometimes we get so caught up in our own life we forget to pay attention.  I knew when I woke up today that it would be a day I needed to pay attention even more than usual and I am so glad I did. 

In the interest of protecting the individuals in my private conversations, these are my soul connections and realizations of the day:  the person you walk the same life with and you finally get to meet; the person you want to walk the same life with but it’s the wrong time; the person you have mirrored in life and they will serve as a mentor; the person who will teach you new things you have yet to learn; and the person who brought you in to this world.  (Okay, no secret on the last one…but proof that even the people who know us better than we know ourselves still have the ability to change our life for the better). 

The common threads between all these worldly connections are these:  we all start somewhere, we are never too young or old to start over, we can always learn from each other, and when we invest emotional capital in someone the return of investment is always greater than your own contribution.  Life has a beautiful way of injecting the right kind of human capital into your investment fund at the time the market will peak (forgive the business analogy…I attended a luncheon on Wealth Management today, too).  And to think that three years ago I would have missed ALL of this is a concept I can’t even get my head around any longer.  Today’s meetings touched me so deeply that I don’t know that I can appropriately convey my sentiments.  But I do know this:  today was my affirmation that I AM on the right path in life, I HAVE made the right decisions for me and my son, and I CAN and WILL do this life thing with awareness like never before.  And I get to live each day knowing that anything can happen and I can meet anyone at any given moment who will serve as a reminder, a lesson, or an opportunity to be a better version of myself than I was the day before.  How grateful I am to know the gift of love for this life I have been given.  And all the more motivation for me to continue to foster the development of this in my son so he, too, will live life awake.        

What an emotionally charged day to happen all at once.  But damn!  How rewarding.  One day I’m going to write a novel on all of life’s little crossroads and intersections that have changed me (while somehow protecting the innocent and I shall call it February because it ALWAYS happens in February).

My lesson of the day:  wake up.  You could be missing some of the best gifts because you’re caught up in your own bullshit.  Nothing is permanent.  Things will end.  New beginnings will present themselves.  Life is too short to be asleep.  Show people your vulnerability at the right moments and don’t fear rejection or judgment and just trust your gut when it’s time to reveal yourself.  Know that you always have the power to change the path you are on.  And when you have the strength to do so, know that it will work if your heart and mind are committed.  There are too many wonderful people and things to experience so get started on your own investment fund. 

February is definitely my bull market. 

-BWT

“A kind of light spread out from her. And everything changed color. And the world opened out. And a day was good to awaken to. And there were no limits to anything. And the people of the world were good and handsome. And I was not afraid any more.”

— John Steinbeck, East of Eden

THE RESOLUTION

It’s funny how the end of the year always brings about a sense of closure.  I like seeing social media nowadays and people getting all juiced up about the New Year...sometimes I giggle when I read things.  Mean, I know.  But at least I admit it. 

Personally, I’ve always gotten a little sentimental every year during this time, but this year in particular I’ve been waiting for closure.  This past year was the most epically fucked up year I’ve had life-to-date.  And somehow, I survived.  Tonight I sit here with the weight of two worlds upon my shoulders:  the life I dreamed of and the life I want.  Sure, expectations played a role in what I wanted.  Our wishes don’t exist without some level of expectation that they will be delivered upon.  However, where I think many people make the mistake is in believing that just because you desire something it is supposed to come easy and naturally.  While this may be true on a superficial level (chemistry creates the initial layer), nothing in life we experience is perfect and people are not perfect so you will need to put in some hard work at times to get the results you are after.  The definitions of work vary vastly from person to person, and the level of effort is always very different. 

I believe the resolution for me as I get settled in to 2017 is that sometimes we must choose to live the life we have realized and not lament the one we wished for.  And sometimes we have to let go and move on because of these realizations.    

One year.  One.  Whole.  Year. 

In 2016 I lost a lot, I gained a lot, and I certainly can’t change any of it—even the stuff I’d want to change.  People will make their own choices and follow their own paths.  People will ultimately move in directions you might have not wished for when they came in to your life.  People will be taken from you without warning.  People will choose to leave without warning.  People will always be who they are unless they choose to change. 

The sun will always rise, life will continue, and you will have to find a way to accept it and move forward.  Grief is a part of this process.  Grief is something I used to loathe but one I’m starting to find some level of comfort in happening to me now.  It’s a reminder that I loved and made an investment of myself in someone or something.  It’s also a reminder that I learned, too. 

I was recently told by someone that my writing is too introspective and depressing…of course I disagreed.  I’ve always believed some of the most emotionally intelligent people are deep thinkers (some…not all people).  I say that not to sound arrogant, but how can one change their ways without the full understanding and acknowledgement of what drives their behavior?  Emotionally intelligent people aren’t smarter than the rest of the world; we just take our experiences and actually reflect on them for self-improvement for the overall greatest contributions to which we are surrounded.  I’ve been writing privately for a long, long time.  I’ve also had plenty of time alone in the past several years to think about where I am in my life.  I’ve barely blinked and my son is now three.  Next thing I know, I’ll be 40.  The fact that my mother passed away at 59 gives me all the more reason to get my ass in gear and do all the things I want to accomplish before I run out of time. 

And let’s get really honest:  time is the biggest complaint people have, the biggest commitment people make, and the greatest gift you can give.  It’s also the thing far too many people waste.  It’s why people make resolutions each year.  Time is everything and the largest thing I have grown to value in the past year.  One thing I have always held steadfast to (even before this past year) is this:  your attention and devotion of time is a choice and a priority.  Just because you say something, write something down, or even think something, the devotion of your time to it is only as good as the action to show up for it.  Presence.  Attention.  Focus.  People make time for the things they value.  If you don’t value it, you won’t show up for it. 

It takes a firm commitment mentally and emotionally to be present for people:  in work, in life, in love, and in friendship.  I’m continually amazed at the challenges I face as I compete with the clock each day.  I’m also continually amazed as I observe people mismanage it.  Where people fail to show up, in my opinion, is not understanding their individual priorities and setting the proper expectations to those with whom they interface.  People who say they want to be in a relationship may make time to talk to the person of interest but their actions don’t validate their words.  People say they want to accomplish goals at work and grow and develop, yet their daily routines and habits don’t support their plans.  People say they want to lose weight and eat healthier as part of their “new year, new me” mentality, but they have not fundamentally prepared their mindset and fall off the “resolutionary bandwagon” by March.  These are just a few examples; the list is vast and varied.  However, my point is that people ultimately fail to manage their own expectations and their own motives; they haven’t considered the emotional behavior required behind the scenes to ensure things actually happen.  Hence, the importance of having emotional intelligence:  without it, you will continue to do as you have always done without accomplishing the goal of self-improvement.  My mantra of 2017 will continue to be:  Assess my Mess. 

Yes, messes are dirty…they are supposed to be…life is messy!  Human beings are flawed and make stupid decisions (yes, there is such a thing).  I have given up perfection and the pursuit of it.  I learned that lesson in 2015 when the life I had planned wasn’t exactly going according to the plan.  I think of life in a very simplistic manner now, actually...I’ll use a toilet as an example.  Unless you are prepared to put on some gloves and scrub the shit off the bottom of the toilet, the mess will ultimately lead to an unusable toilet.  And eventually, you’ll just have to find another place to shit.  This seems exhausting to me.  I like the comfort of my own toilet.  I know it’s clean because I maintained it.  Maybe I went two weeks without cleaning it, but I came around to cleaning it because I started to see the mildew forming.  I don’t mind when others need to use my toilet because I know it’s clean for them, too.  And if you can’t let your guests use your toilet, there’s something fundamentally wrong with how you’re cleaning. 

A crass interpretation, yes.  But life is no different, really.  You maintain the things that need to be maintained by putting in the work required to keep them moving in the right direction.  Yes, things will breakdown and you’ll need to fix them periodically.  There is something to be said about hard work—jobs, love, friendships, and life don’t happen without work and a commitment of time to them.  Presence is critical in the attainment of the goals inside of them as well.  You can’t have what you want if you aren’t willing to sacrifice and do the work necessary to achieve the end game.  You do this by showing up—by being present.  Committing your time and showing people your value with the actions necessary.  Interpretations may vary, but fundamentally speaking:  if you want to eat the cake, you’ve got to go to the store and buy the ingredients and come home and bake the damn thing. 

The charge this year is this:  do what you say you’re going to do and do it with every ounce of time and energy you have if it’s something you truly value.  We aren’t promised tomorrow and dwelling on old habits and behaviors won’t right the wrongs.  Life will be messy:  there will be roadblocks and there is no clear path to perfection.  There is, however, always time to fix things if you’re willing to put in the work. 

Clock's ticking.  Get dirty this year.  Shit happens.

-BWT