Life is hard

My freshmen were complaining the other day about the perils of learning online, having to do homework, and how tough it is being student athletes. I heard them out then looked at them intently for what felt like 30 seconds.

“Life is hard,” I said.

They were silent. They got it.

My grammy said that once and it makes more sense every day. “Life is hard.” Things don’t go as planned. You’ll always be reacting to the plot twists of life, never fully ahead of the curve. You will embark on ventures that don’t go well and lost friends along the way. There will be things you don’t want to do, like school and pay taxes. Sometimes you will feel so worn down by the evil in the world and the stress of your circumstances that you will be overwhelmingly anxious, depressed, and ready to leave town. There are tradeoffs everywhere and injustice is rampant. Then people die.

Life is hard.

By my estimation, there are three realistic responses to this:

The first option is to reject the fact that life is hard and try to make things as comfortable and easy as possible. When challenges or risky opportunities arise, avoid them. Living is better when it’s safe, easy, predictable. Ignorance is bliss, so you ignore the suffering of your life and others’ hoping it will fade away. To numb unwanted negative emotions, perhaps you take up drinking, promiscuous sex, drugs, or fantasy football. Your sole purpose in life is seeking a self-indulgent, pelasurable life, not a contribution.

The second option is to accept that life is hard, then choose what might be worth suffering for. This will require giving up material comfort in the present in order to move towards something meaningful future. Once you choose something, you set your life up so you can honestly pursue it. Along the way you learn to cope with the hard realities of existence by devoting yourself to something bigger than yourself, be it your mission, your family, or your God. You recognize that living to better your circumstances while disregarding others leads to more suffering for everyone, so you avoid that path.

The last option is to give up. This can look like many things, but giving up is always a shirking of responsibilities. Perhaps, after attaining your degree from your parent-funded education, you drop off the grid and live in the woods by yourself with no intent of being generous to those who supported your life to this point. Or maybe you recognize that you’re angry and bitter at the world but do nothing to change your emotional or physical state. Maybe you are so convinced that you’re right and there is nobody that can teach you anything about how to live a better life despite its inherent, abysmal, and devastatingly hard challenges.

Or perhaps you’re so depressed that you’re contemplating giving up in a more drastic way. If this is the case, please read this 2016 article by Tim Ferriss: Some Practical Thoughts on Suicide. You owe it to yourself.

I don’t think there’s any real option besides the second: accept that life is hard, then move from there. In the first you’ll end up like Ivan Illich. In the last you’ll end up depriving the world of your unique and important contribution, the potential of what you could create if you stayed with us, with the hard realities that are so real but so possible to overcome with enough support, be in cognitive or physical or spiritual.

These are the hardest realities to face and the hardest questions to ask. I’m not foolishly saying you should stay where you are and be miserable, but I am suggesting you find something worth suffering for.

Life is hard, but it’s harder if you don’t accept that.

What are you learning?

This question can save you a lot of headaches.

As human beings, we want to have purpose. We want our lives to be meaningful, and we want to do work that matters. We want to be remembered for the great things we did.

When you realize you’re not living up to your potential, you’ll be upset. You may sink into a depressive episode and not recognize yourself. Menial tasks like emptying the dishwasher will feel daunting. You will feel like the things you do don’t matter.

In these circumstances, ask yourself this: what are you learning? Every moment proposes the opportunity to learn, and all tasks can be made meaningful if they have a purpose.

Let learning be that purpose. Learning is what makes us human. There’s always something to learn, always something to make you feel more human. Like you matter.

You definitely matter.

How to change your life

I want to be better than I am right now. You probably do, too. And if you’re like me, every now and then you write down a few lists about how to make life better.

One is a list of attributes you’d like to have in the future. This is your dream.

The next is a list of what you’re doing now that’s preventing your dream from existing. This is your reality check.

The final list is usually all the things you should be doing to become the person on list one. This is your action plan.

Here’s where you mess up, so pay attention. Tomorrow, you’re going to try and be your future self. You’ll rewrite list three and check things off throughout the day. You’ll go to bed feeling accomplished, like you made something of your life.

The day after that, you do it again. Except you don’t check off everything like yesterday. You have to put out a fire, your uncle calls, and you forget you have to cook dinner. Your pillow feels less satisfying, and you start to question the feasibility of your action plan.

You wake up the next day and return to who you were before list one. You don’t write any more lists for a few months.

There’s an easy fix to all of this: start by doing one thing on list three today. Then do it again tomorrow and the next day. Keep doing it until it becomes a habit, then slowly attack something else. Maybe this one takes a month to master but you commit to it anyways. This continues, and in eight months you’re closer to the person described on list one.

So do yourself a favor and slow down. Life is long and you can’t become someone you’re proud of tomorrow. To make real, lasting change you have to extend your ludicrous deadlines.

If you don’t know where to start, ask yourself this: “what can I do today that will make life better?”

Some things don’t have an ending

https://vimeo.com/399547706

I’m sitting here in tears as I try to put words to this new reality…that I will never run track again. For 10 days I’ve been at a loss for words, unable to grasp that this part of my journey is over. I’ve tried to ignore it and avoid it but it’s eating me up. I have to face it and I have to cry. These tears aren’t only for the love of memories past but for the loss of those yet to come, the unwritten stories that will remain untold in Spring 2020.

I’ve had this feeling before and you have too—when a loved one passes away and you don’t get to say goodbye. I wasn’t done running. I had so many personal records left to break and so many workouts left to lead. I wasn’t done cheering for my teammates and being cheered by those who love me. I wasn’t done waking up at 5:30am to lift and explaining for the 100th time why I don’t drink chocolate milk. I wasn’t done, and it really hurts.

I didn’t get to have my teammates congratulate me after my last ever race, saying how amazing it was to see my transformation. I didn’t get to shake my coach’s hand before we got on the bus at my last meet, making sure he knew that I appreciated everything he’s done for me. I didn’t get to celebrate my 4 year career, one full of injury and upset and triumph and leadership. I didn’t get to, and I never will.

This will not get easier. It will be something I come to live with—the pain of loss. I don’t know where I will go from here, but I do know one thing. I know that what got me around Boston University’s magic carpet on January 25th wasn’t my desire to be a great runner…It was those guys in Crimson & Gray around the track who gave their best all day long and still had enough left to yell my name. It was Magee & Moscoe & Davies & Dave & Welde & Baumy & Seabass & Sauer & Josh & the rest. At was Mom & Dad & Camille & Adam & Rachel cheering me on at home. Watching and hearing the support in this video…that’s what matters. Not the time.

When I first started running, I ran for myself. That’s how most of us run. But then I got the greatest gift I’ve ever received: the chance to run for others, the chance to run for a team. My team. The best team that I’ve ever been a part of. I can’t name you all in this comment, but you know who you are. Thank you for making this worth it. Thank you for making this all worth it.

At the end of this video, Camille said: “This is probably so different for him too because now he’s not thinking about other people; he’s just running.”

My wish for all of you is that you come love something as much as I ‘ve come to love running. Thanks for reading.

How to Start Something

  1. Remember all the things you’ve tried before (like blogging every day).
  2. Take stock of which pursuits were successful in the moment and which were successful after some time.
  3. Next, note the failures and your shortcomings. See if they have, in fact, made you a more well rounded individual, more robust in your knowledge.
  4. Now forget all that. These past outcome, whether positive or negative, have no say on your destiny.
  5. Time to get creative. Think of something new you can try, something that will challenge you and push you to become better than you are currently. This thing can be less ambitious than previous initiatives or just as ambitious (such as blogging every day, only this time not worrying if any single day has been missed). Past attempts ought to hold no significance over any future endeavors, though it would be foolish to not embrace your newfound, innate wisdom.
  6. Make a list of what you ought to do to fulfill this task. Perhaps a checklist, maybe an intention. Either way, there should be some means to identify your success.
  7. Make a commitment to yourself, a pact to do your best to uphold your end of the bargain into the foreseeable future. If desirable, create an end date for this new practice. Leave it open-ended if you’re more easy going.
  8. Do your best.
  9. Forgive yourself when you slip up.
  10. Continue until you’re done. You’ll know when the time has come.
  11. Repeat this process, paying special attention to number 4.
  12. Embrace your childhood wonder, that ambition present deep within your being. Hold it close and become it’s ally. Together, you will accomplish many great feats.

How to be Here in 2020: Creating Meaningful Intentions

I don’t make resolutions as much as intentions. A resolution can be kept or broken. An intention is a standard the can be measured up to. When trying times come, the intention remains, standing tall like a stick stands in the mud. My intention for 2020 is to remind myself that, “I Am Here.”

I spent a good portion of the last decade worrying. I worried about past mistakes, about future challenges, and about if I would ever become successful. I can happily report that most of what I worried about was nonsensical, though some of it manifested as I had thought. For instance, I didn’t yet die from running a hard workout, but Flow Training hasn’t taken off as I had hoped, meaning I’m running tight on cash.

But there is good news through it all: I am still here. My feet are planted firmly on the ground and my life, though uncertain, continues on. Joyfully.

You know the smell of burning hair? The one that occurs when your hairs are singed as you carelessly cook on a gas stove? If you’re like me, you almost instantly get upset at yourself, wondering how you could be so foolish. You fail to recognize the bigger picture: maybe your hairs got burned so your skin wouldn’t have to.

2019 was the year of anger over singed hairs. 2020 is the year of gratitude for the burns and no expectations for anything less the next time I cook. 2020 is for being here, now, as the late Ram Das suggested.

I Am Here, and that’s what matters.

My Most Patient Self

I’ve been working on being more patient lately. I’m trying to practice patience when I’m driving, interacting with loved ones, and sitting in class. It’s really a whole-systems approach, and I’ve been attacking it by addressing my core wound of always wanting to be in control. I have good days and bad days, but overall I’ve seen improvement.

I went to visit my Grandpa today. He is 88 and living in an assisted living facility. He was a soldier during peacetime in WWII and a math teacher for years in Goshen, New York. Now, he has Parkinson’s. It’s hard for him to get words out sometimes, but he’s still sharp as a tack. I have to give him time to get his words out when he’s talking, and though I still have trouble understanding him from time-to-time, giving him the space to speak helps him out.

This situation forces me to give up control, be patient, and listen instead of talk. Awkward silences are not only the price of admission but welcome, for it is only by silence that Grandpa can get his point across. Camille came with me to visit him today. On the ride home, she told me she’s never seen a more patient version of me than when I’m with my Grandpa. That made me take a step back.

Patience can manifest in many forms, but it’s always here, always accessible, and always beneficial. I want to be My Most Patient Self every day, not just when I visit my Grandpa. This is my patient ideal. What’s yours?

My Learning, Creating, and Meditating Schedule

These are three modalities I will use to help discover more about who I am, what I am, and how I am called to serve: by learning, by creating, and by meditating. Here are the rules for each.

Learning Rule: read something I want to read

Creating Rule: write, design, or craft personal art

Meditating Rule: any kind of mindful seated / standing

For the remainder of the semester, I will be Learning on Sunday – Thursday, I will be creating on Tuesday, and I will be Meditating on Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday.

I am on a mission to discover myself so I can better myself. This only becomes possible through daily and weekly habits. Nothing meaningful gets accomplished without purposefully crafted and diligently executed habits.

Maybe More Isn’t Better

The whiteboard in the library read:

Question of the Week:

If you had to give up all of your possessions but one, what would you keep?

I told the librarian, Martha, she was getting to philosophical on me. This was a question that required more thought than the previous ones. I took the hour before recording my answer—

My journal

I find that the less happy I am, the more I desire things. Conversely, the more happy I am, the less I need. Many sages throughout history have mirrored this sentiment. Many of my influences of late have as well, people like Mike Posner, Tim Ferriss, B.J. Miller, Aubrey Marcus, Thomas Aquinas, and David Goggins. Things don’t make you happy. Being you is joy enough.

So why a journal? Because I can find a computer, a phone, clothes, and my favorite books again, but I can’t recreate my thoughts. I need something to remind me of who I was and who I’ve become, as well as something to sketch out a plan of where to go next. If I lost all my possessions, I believe a journal with a few empty pages would be enough to remember what this life is really about.

Don’t forget about Time Management

I just recorded the 4th episode of It’s All Mahalo with my girlfriend, Camille. It’ll be published around Friday. If you want to listen to the first 3 episodes, you can find it wherever you get your podcasts: Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, Spotify, iHeartRadio.

This week, Camille and I had a conversation about our passions, our futures, and being okay with giving up some control. We culminated the discussion by talking about how we can implement these concepts practically into our daily lives. The answer, as Camille pointed out, has to be Time Management.

The biggest takeaway from this conversation as to focus on timely habits rather than achieving goals within a timeframe. An example: if you want to start reading before bed, make it a priority to read for 20 minutes before bed as opposed to reading 40 pages before bed. This allows you to have some freedom within your schedule and focusses on the process of reading rather than the end goal of completing a book. With emphasis on the habit of reading, we become free to read rather than bound to our commitment of reading a certain amount.

This method can be extrapolated to many things aside from reading. The next time I want to implement something into my daily life, I’m going to focus on the habit over achievement, on the process instead of the goal. After all, life is the process of living, not the goal of having lived.