Chicken on the grill, especially some thighs and wings with “Wisdom” seasoning is a great make and eat. Salmon too. Its all so good. And despite the climes we are in, we can fire up the Weber pretty much year round. Might need the long undies on, but well worth it. And everything you wear out there smells like it !
A scrambler for breakfast is fun to make and really food eatin’ too. Aside from the eggs, whatever veggies and cheesies we have in the fridge get chopped up and added to the mix. Not so much cows or pigs for us. You get some broccoli, ‘shrooms, scallions, peppers, cauliflower, you name it. As long as they aren’t runny we are always good to go. Stays with you the whole day.
Then there are my cookies.
Gonna make a few batches for some of my close friends that are hosting a Superbowl watch party. Those will all be made Sunday morning. Then, while I am at it, a couple more batches for my best friends’ students. They earned it. And then even more for the Hawks this coming Tuesday. Once the process is in place for those bad boys, they just roll out and stack up.
Your clothes even start to smell like chocolate chip cookies. Now that I think of it, those scramblers do it too, just like birds on the grill.
What are you scared to do? And, what are you scared of doing? What is it that you fear to attempt versus what is it that you have done but are fearful of doing again. Seperate avenues of life to share and elucidate.
To be honest, haven’t really given the former much thought. I might be willing to sky dive, but never really held much interest. Since I really do not have a bucket list, there isn’t a spot to put that one on pause. Don’t have the cranial makeup to scale sky scrapers like Alex did a week or so ago in Taiwan.
Swimming in the ocean is amazing. Jumping off a schooner and snorkeling in the middle of an ocean off the Virgin Islands. Taking a sailboard out in the same waters without a clue was a total blast. Cold calling businesses and turning them into associates and customers is fun to this day. Interviews are fun. Giving and receiving. Speaking to crowds? Fulfilling and missed. Jumping off a third floor fire escape into snow during winter break just because? Well, just because we were stupid. “Skitching” over the snow covered streets in Hinsdale as a teen. Deciding to play college football, and then playing every game for four years.
There are others. But I guess when it comes to being scared to or having a fear to, I think the fear of failure holds the cards. A certain level of embarrassment too. What if I blow it? Get lost? Laughed at? Contusions and abrasions? Fractures? They say “no”? Die? Having never done something before, trying and then having it turn out one way or another is one experience. You get to move on.
But then again, being scared of or having a fear of doing contains many of the same risk factors, but from an entirely different depth and direction. The potential damage to one and others extends far beyond band-aid boo boo’s or a walking boot.
I am scared of and have a fear of letting others down. Again.
Of making bad choices. Of acting out of character. Of behaving like I have all of the answers, that I am the Grand High Exalted Mystic Poobah, and that I know what is best for all everytime and all of the time. Of resentment.
Of not understanding my true worth. Of not staying present. Of withdrawing and building a protective fortress along a steep escarpment.
Of allowing others to determine my value, assess my potential and define my capabilities.
Of not ever realizing who I was.
The therapeutic side of the daily prompt is evident this exact moment.
By discerning what I am scared to as it relates to what I am scared of, an epiphany has enjoined my spirit this weekend.
Those things that one is scared of are those that one is scared to discard, move on from and grow in an entirely different manner and direction. Perhaps being possessed by them for so long offers a twisted, unhealthy and known sense of comfort and security. A bizarre sense of peace brought forth in allowing oneself to be held captive by them. Being scared to finally understand and move on was allowed to be overwhelmed by being scared of allowing that change.
To finally grow. To finally understand. To finally forgive. To finally connect. To finally live.
My stoic nature being what it is, one would think by appearance alone, all I do is complain. Perhaps there is an element of truth to that revelation. Take it as you wish, I think this is how I complain.
First, no offense intended by using some of the following statements and inherent descriptions. They pretty much say it like it is about this guy and how I see things.
I am another version of OCD.
Obsessive/cleaning/coordinating/combining/correcting/clarifying/composing/confronting/considering/congratulating/disorder. Maybe I missed a few. Oh, completing. If I think of more, I will circle back. But I digress….
I like things to be in order. Not always mine. Just in order so that we have time to live. In establishing a pattern, things flow, they happen and there are little or no distractions created to take one off their game. So dishes get done, washer filled and unfilled, dirty clothes in laundry room waiting their turn, recyling routine, beds made. You know a sense of order. Not perfection, that ain’t possible. Just intention. So I can bore you all with this prompt today. Aren’t you glad.
So where the complaining comes in is pretty much internal. I live the flow around here, and when I see something that could go better or makes more sense based on how we live, then I just adjust accordingly. Don’t tell them to do it. Just do it myself and let things happen. No one comes home to discover the laundry room now in the living room to improve efficiency and recycling bins in the kitchen. (Yet) Just looking at the big picture and smoothing out rough edges.
Sort of how I coach too.
I understand the objectives, see the big picture and figure out ways to gain growth, improvement, achievement and excellence. Not in a complaining, hen pecking, diminishing and scolding manner. Rather, gaining trust, understand what it is I see in you, let me show you how to get there. Then, just play. Practice is for practice; coaching them up, fine tuning, instilling self discipline, repetition, trust. Games are games. Times to be encouraged, reminded to stick with the fundamentals, stay together and have fun.
Applies to my current vocation as well. Job development for those with diverse abilities is just like coaching football in my estimation. No pads to speak of, except maybe to protect one from beating themselves up. But hey, we all do that, don’t we? Work the fundamentals, practice, observe and let them play. Some of the interviews I have witnessed were way better than a come from behind game on the field.
So, from a strictly definition oriented standpoint, I really do not have anything to complain about.
Not a thing.
Could I be more patient, understanding and listen better? Heck yeah.
Could I smile more than twice a year? Yup.
Stop the internal fussing? Wait, who’s fussing?
Let things be? I will get back to you on that.
In the end, I get to be my OCD self, as currently described above. Live a life around those that get it. And still be loved.
Football was my passion to play, and now, to coach.
A source of enduring friendship and life lessons that to this day still resonate, guide and teach. Some of the most formative times in my life. Playing. And now coaching. An opportunity to share the gifts the game gave to me then and continues to offer as we speak.
When you witness an expression on a young mans face that resembles the one you feel in your heart, then you know he has found that moment in his life too. A fleeting connection, but one just the same. They pass and life moves on.
From a strictly monetary sense, I would erase all personal debt and that of my family and extended family. I would continue my path of donation as it is now, adding more support and benefactors as I see fit.
I would have a debit card with a large balance that I could carry around and buy someone a tank of gas while I fill up at Kwik Trip, a family’s meal at a restaurant I am at, the cart full of groceries behind me in line at the store, the supplies the young couple are buying to paint their house as I am getting some for me. Essentially just sharing what I have been given, day by day, until it is all gone.
From a spiritual sense, there are days I feel like I have won it already. Over and over. Horsing around with my two older grandkids. Holding my newest granddaughter for the first time. Helping one of my protégés find employment and further their independence. Watching another develop and grow within his vocation. Coaching for Special Olympics and seeing those young men and women succeed. Hearing words once used in coaching being used by another.
Seeing another sunrise. Watching my downstairs garden grow. Venus next to the moon and Orion over the house. Being a part of a spiritual fellowship. Hugs from my kids. Fuzzy farts from my grandson. Hearing my best friend laugh.
I guess when all is said and done, a lottery isn’t really confined to some hyped up game that is made or unmade when some numbers are called. Every day can be like one. You just have to be there for all those drawings. Big. Small. Known. Coincidence.
...my temporary assignment. 