Self Love on the Golf Course

I’ve been caddying for the past six summers. Most caddies start because they’ve played golf, know golf, or love golf. I started because it paid well. Over the years I’ve become a decent caddy, but not great. Far from great. Recently I’ve been learning where self love fits into golf.

I still have my slip ups on the course. I lose golf balls and misread greens each time I loop. My natural tendency is to beat myself up when I mess up. My player placed his trust in me and I let him down. Failure as a caddy, already a low-ranking position, sometimes feels like the last straw.

But this year I’ve been learning to forgive myself. To love myself. Instead of banging my head for misreading a green, I repeat my mantra over and over: “I love myself. I love myself. I love myself” (thanks Kamal 🙂 In no time, the mistake I made doesn’t matter all that much. What counts is that I love myself regardless of my shortcomings as a caddy. Or a friend. Or a son. Or a man.

Stonewall will always have a special place in my heart–a place occupied by love and hate, gratitude and frustration. It’s taken me six years to realize that who I am isn’t contingent on my caddying skills. Who I am depends on how much I love myself.

And I’m really trying to love myself.

Lankenau *Healing* Center

I drive by Lankenau Trauma Center on Lancaster Ave nearly every day. It’s where you go if you experience physical trauma, I guess. Diagnostics, surgeries, and recovery plans are dished out daily. It’s a place to go if you’ve been injured.

Why is it named after the injury and not the intent? Why put focus on the trauma we already know is there? How different would Medicine be if we placed our attention on healing rather than the wound?

Lankenau Healing Center would be more aligned with the collective medical mission of the facility. We call it “healthcare” because people take care of you to improve your health. We don’t call it “disease management,” though, that’s what the western medical system has become.

Let’s rename Trauma Centers to Healing Centers and watch the shift in recovery to healing. Mindset matters, especially when you’re rebounding from a traumatic accident.

45 minutes

I listened to Episode 439 of the Tim Ferriss Show today while picking up a Facebook Marketplace purchase. Tim Ferriss has been my rock through the uncertainties of the lockdown. His massively important interviews have reminded me of the necessity to respond instead of emotionally react in challenging situations. This episode featured excerpts from his bestselling book I’ve yet to read, Tools of Titans, now available on audible.

The excerpt featured was Derek Sivers’ profile. Sivers founded CDBaby and Hostbaby and is a successful music producer, among other things. But the thing that struck me was his story about 45 minutes.

He likes to bike and this one trail near his home was the go-to spot. As American capitalism teaches, when he hit the trail he went max effort. He pedaled fast, was red in the face, and finished, exhausted, in about 43 minutes. After months of this practice, he began dreading the trail because it meant pain and misery.

But one day he decided to relax, to pedal slow and enjoy the view. He noticed trees and vistas he never saw before. The ride was easy and fun, and he felt energized the entire time. He rediscovered his love for biking, his enthusiasm for the trail. As he finished, he looked down at his watch: 45 minutes.

All of that extra effort, exhaustion, and misery for a two minute faster ride.

So many hard lessons came flooding back to me. I’ve been there before and I’ve done that before. I love running but recently it’s felt like a chore. It’s been difficult to stay motivated and tough to finish a run without extended stops along the way. But after hearing Sivers’ story, I put the theory to test.

I went out for a run and said I would run for an hour without looking at my pace. I ran for exactly an hour. 8.07 miles. 7:26 mile/minute pace, only 6 seconds slower than when I’ve been running all-out and stopping every mile and a half.

Sometimes, going slow is going fast. Sometimes fast is overrated and enjoying the run is more important than the pace.

This time I won’t forget. 45 minutes. Slow. Down. Thanks, Sivers.

Move up!

From June 1st to 5th I partook in the Akimbo Emerging Leaders workshop. Akimbo is Seth Godin’s organization that runs online workshops like the altMBA, Podcasting Fellowship, and Marketing Seminar. Anyways, this was my best week in recent memory.

During the program we were tasked with completing a project each day. Without away the magic, I’ll just say that the projects were difficult but so rewarding. I was blown away at what I was able to accomplish in a 12 hour window. I plan on carrying that momentum with me as I work on the book.

One of the catch phrases in the workshop was “Move up! Move up!” This was a rallying cry that reminded us all to listen intently, to let others speak. Leaders don’t fill the room with noise. Leaders create a welcoming space for ideas to be created, spread, and shared.

Move up! means “pass the mic.” Everyone in the program was a leader, so thinking of something valuable to say wasn’t difficult. What was more challenging–and more beneficial for the whole group–was to shine the light on others who really had something to add, who really had some value to bring. Passing the mic is a quintessential part of being a leader.

I’ve adopted this disposition in my own life. Already I’ve held myself back from contributing because other people were adding enough value. I’ve been asking, “Would it be okay if this wasn’t said?” Usually, yes.

If you’re a college student and interested in the program, click here to apply for the second round of the program in August. I can’t recommend it enough.

Blessed are the Meek

…for they shall inherit the earth. – Matthew 5:5

On Jocko Podcast 98 with Jordan Peterson, they begin discussing how a man should carry himself in the world. I think Dr. Peterson said it exceptionally well.

A good man is not a harmless man. A good man is a very, very, very dangerous man, but he has that under voluntary control.

Jordan B. Peterson

Matthew 5:5 is confusing for many. “Meek” is often interpreted as “gentle,” but that seems to be a rough translation. Some scholars think the original Greek word, πραεῖς, better translates to “power under control.” In other words, being able to yield a sword but keeping it sheathed.

I like the second translation. We shouldn’t be timid and submissive in life, but be strong enough to stand by our convictions. “Power under control” portrays a dangerous but disciplined man, ready to protect his family at a moment’s notice. Strong enough to fight but courageous enough to not yield his power unless absolutely necessary.

A responsible man is strong, values-oriented, and knows how to fight. He is dangerous, but he is disciplined. The earth is his to be inherited because he makes himself worthy of attaining it. He works for peace but is ready for war.

Are you ready for war?

Find your Medicine

Don’t waste your hate,

Rather, gather and create.

Be of service, be a sensible person,

Use your words and don’t be nervous.

You can do this–you have purpose.

Find your Medicine and use it.

Manifesto by Nahko & Medicine for the People

Father Greg Boyle, founder of Homeboy Industries, shared this video on Facebook today. He reminds the faithful that We are the Light of the World. Though times may get tough, we can always choose to bring our own unique Medicine to the world. Before we bring it, we must find what it is.

What’s your Medicine? And how will you bring it?

Writing and Thinking

You may think writing comes out of thinking. You think a thought, then you write it down. This is how all great works novels, articles, books, plays, poems, and songs arise.

But you’d be wrong. Writing isn’t a byproduct of thinking, but thinking happens because you write. I can’t number the times I’ve had no clue what to write an essay on, then five hours later the essay is finished and submitted. It was only written because I was writing.

Now think about what you wrote for your high school biology class. Lab reports. Boring, monotonous, regurgitated lab reports that were identical to each of your classmates. The lab report is important, but it’s not the only way to write about science.

What if science students watched a video about a hawk snatching another bird and eating it, then they journalled about it? What if they wrote stories about who the hawk was and why she was hungry? Imagine the questions that would come from writing creatively about the natural world.

If we want to solve modern problems to create a hopeful future, we have to think outside the box. To think outside the box, we have to write outside the box. If we want to write outside the box, we better have a good pen.

Healing is ugly

I broke my index finger when I was fourteen. I was playing baseball, squared up to bunt, and my finger came between the pitch and the bat. It was a cloudy day, pretty cold. Mrs. Vasas was there to give me Tylenol. My parents came soon after.

Only read the following if you have a strong stomach.

They surgically removed my nail in the emergency room. They put four stitches in my nail bed to mend the laceration. Over the next three months I wore a bandage as I waited for my finger to heal. It hurt. It was hard to clean. Taking the stitches out still haunts me. Watching my nail grow back was oddly satisfying.

My finger still looks a little off. If I press hard enough on my fingertip I can see where the stitches were. I remember the pain, but healing eventually came.

This is what makes the healing process troubling: it wouldn’t have healed if it didn’t hurt. When you feel pain your endocrine system makes a slew of healing hormones that instantly begin to clot and repair damaged tissue. Pain is a signal that something is hurting and needs attention. Without that pain, healing happens much more slowly. Here’s a study.

As I look and listen and hear the cries of the world, I’m reminded of my finger and every injury I’ve had. Healing is slow and it hurts. Healing is ugly. But healing, in the end, works, and it only works because it hurt, because it was slow.

Every day I am brought to tears by the cries of the black community in America. I cry as I learn more about the horrible treatment of indigenous people. Not a day goes by where I don’t regret not paying attention sooner. Not using my privilege for good sooner.

But now is a good time to start. Now is the only time to start. Nunc coepi means “now I begin” and that is exactly what I’ll do.

Healing is an ugly process, but the more we all hurt, the faster we can all heal. We can’t continue by just letting one group suffer. Until we all feel their pain, until we are all uncomfortable by racism, no change will happen.

I’m ready to embrace the breakdown of the world I once new so we can heal and create a better home. This time, the only people not welcome are the ones who want to keep us apart.

It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Even when riots burn Philly to the ground, it’s still our home. It’s still Philly. The sun will rise tomorrow. Justice is rising and busting through. This city is resilient and so are it’s righteous people.

We can get through this. We can rise.

Living in a Movie

Threat of World War III. Kobe dies. Coronavirus devastates humanity. Global lockdown. 3+ month Stay at Home order. Economy tanks. Businesses close. Countless black people are senselessly murdered by racists and police. Protests turn into riots. Societal upheaval. President threatens citizens. Twitter threatens President. First amendment uncertain. Basic human rights uncertain.

Fr. McNally always said: “Life is complicated, Love is not.”

Life is complicated.

Love is not.