what's with all of this 1%, 99% talk?

How many of us like a big, juicy steak?

Cheeseburger? With Bacon? (my favorite)

How about we round that out with a nice order of greasy, salty fries, and wash it down with a BIG beverage? How's that sound?

Ooh, almost forgot desert! Make that two scoops, I start my diet tomorrow..ha...ha...ha

Hungry?

I was talking with my dad the other day, and we were chatting about what makes us human (Dave talks about weird things with his dad). Have you ever thought about what makes you human? Well, to begin with we have eyes, ears, a mouth, nose, arms, legs, hands, skin, organs....some of us are tall, some of us are short...some are men, some are women....some have hair, some don't (you know who you are)....some are light complexion, some are dark complexion.....some are old, some are young. Let's take it a step further. What sustains human life? Well, there's food, air, water, sleep, work....but also, relationships, having fun, challenging ourselves, love and kindness, etc.

I want to focus on the food, water and air. Without these three, nothing matters....kind of weird to think about, but if you didn't have food, water, and especially air, close to every single day, you would die.....that's how fragile life is. Simply, life is unsustainable without these three. It doesn't matter how big your paycheck is, your job title, how many girlfriends you have, how fast your car is....simply, without food, water, or air you're gone....and everything you accumulated, disappears. Think about this for a second, it sounds weird, but without food, water, or air which are somehow magically created without human intervention (that still happens?!?!)....without them, I am not typing right now. Everything else builds on top of these three.

Where do these three come from? Earth. Everything we put into our bodies, good or bad, comes from Earth. The very thing keeping my ass planted on my seat typing right now (that's gravity for all you physicists out there), is Earth. It's the same thing my feet hit when I run. It's the same place that grows the fruits and vegetables that I eat. The same place that I get the water that sustains my life, or the air that fills my lungs. Little 'ol, under-appreciated, Earth. This is just the facts. It's not some granola-crunchy, hippie view of the world, it's the facts. Earth literally grows humans like plants....it's just we can walk around (no, I'm not on LSD right now).

You see, what I'm trying to do is paint a picture....that what makes up me, also makes up you. Again, what makes up ME, also makes up YOU. We drink the same water, we eat the same food, we breath the same air, from the same Earth. We're more than 99% identical. Did you know that? In fact, all mammals are over 99% identical.

So, in today's real-world, that 1% that everyone is talking about, are 99% the same as you and I (gross, I don't want to be considered one of them!) Too bad, you are.

What's really wrong with this picture? Is we've forgotten who we are as people. As humans. So much of our lives are based on class, or ranking, or "I'm apart of the 1%, kiss my ass" or "I'm apart of the 99%, wahh"...who gives a shit, on either side. Earth sustains us the same, and in order to follow our hearts, not the materials we accumulate....few or many. You can validate that by listening to your heart right now. Do you feel it calling you? Or maybe  you're stressed because you're not really listening to it?

Bottom-line is who gives a shit about classes, the percentage you fall in, what you make or don't make, or the horse and buggy you rode in on...all that matters is, when you wake up, and take your first breath, your first sip of water, and your first bite of food, that you know where that's coming from. And in turn, that you're answering what it's asking of you.

Are you listening to it? Or just taking it in, one sip, bite, breath at a time all for yourself, pointing your finger at others....because it's what's owed to you?

Think again.

you're sorry?....I forgive

I hate you! It's your fault! What the hell? Dude? Really, Really?!?!? What's their problem? Look at that person, hahahaha....

How many times during the day do you feel this type of anger? How many times do you judge others?

Why are we so mad?

I don't know about you, but something seems to drive me. Between passion, belief, faith, there's also something else at work.....my wounds (cry me a river, Dave). Unless you never reflect, you may not relate to this, but if you think about things weekly or even daily on what drives you, start to bring up the time your older brother or sister beat you up; or your mom and dad weren't understanding of you; or the hurt or embarrassment a sibling caused on your family because of their actions; or the time you were unjustly punished, benched, graded, mocked, made fun of, misunderstood, or treated. Even more severely, maybe abuse was in your life; maybe mom and dad weren't around; or maybe they didn't care about you and your dreams. On the flip side, maybe you were pushed to hard; expectations were set to high, and you failed. Maybe you're still trying to live up to those expectations today. Any of this true in your life? How does it make you feel to read this, and 're-hash' crappy feelings?

In your life, has any of these 'violators' come back to you, and said their sorry? How did you respond? Was it something like this: You, "It's ok, I forgive you." How you really felt, "You're sorry? Are fucking kidding me?!?! You're sorry??? I can't stand you! You've ruined so much of my life, you've taken so much from me. Everyday I wake up, I'm frustrated and annoyed because of people like you. Don't be sorry. Those are just words." And then you move on, possibly even more upset than before.  Anyone?

Well, that was me for a little while. I had a lot of reasons to be pissed....just like you. To be burned time and time again, and said sorry to, time and time again, when does it really become a reality?

I couldn't figure out why I was so mad, even-though I had been told sorry, or someone's new actions conveyed their deepest apologies towards me......I soon realized, after I let it consume me, or let it hold me back from my dreams, that it was no longer the 'violators' fault for letting my inner anger hold me back.....it was my fault.....I hadn't forgiven yet. 

You see, the words 'I'm sorry' are powerful, however the words 'You're forgiven' are the most powerful. It releases you.....it releases them. It makes the act that was so hurtful, go away forever. It tips the energy scales from negative, to positive, opening these positive reserves back up for you. Now think, if you learned to forgive, and move on, just imagine how tipped the energy scale would be on the positive side. Do you follow me? This isn't about the violator....they already said sorry. This is about YOU. Our natural want is for the violator to feel the hurt that we felt because of them, and we hold the key to it because we never forgive them.....well, guess what....you're hurting yourself at the same time. Do you care that much that this other person hurts, eventhough they've already said sorry, that you'll do it to your own expense....to your own hurt? Why?

The world hurts us everyday, in one way or another..that's just reality. And sometimes the hurt sticks around longer than others....because we let it. You let it. I let it.

Stop imprisoning yourself with past hurts, and unforgiven 'sorries'. You have a big beautiful life to live. It's yours. Be free.

I forgive.

Do you?

24 hours and counting.....repeat.

Have you ever thought about how much our lives are marked on time? I mean, literally everything we do has a time associated with it. I am this old. I have been at this same crappy job this many years. I graduated in 4 years....ooo, you did in 5, ouch. Usain Bolt ran the 100m in 9.6 seconds. I am driving this many miles per HOUR. A professional football game is exactly 60 minutes. Maybe over-TIME. What is time? Can I touch time?

Because I'm an uber-dork at times (did this nerd just use the word 'uber'....he is a dork), I decided during one of Jenna and my walks this past weekend in Maine that we should comprehend how old earth is. Gee, isn't that fun, sweetheart?! (yea, whatever Dave, weirdo). What made me think of this was we were walking on the ocean, and there were these big, beautiful rocks that the waves were crashing into. It was an absolute picturesque scene......the ocean mist was spraying everyone as they walked by, and the wind was hollowing.....it was pretty cool. I was looking at these rocks, and it hit me that they must've been thousands, if not millions of years old (there I go measuring the rocks in time). Those rocks have a pretty long life, and most likely don't care about time.....but yet slowly, but surely, the rock will disappear as the ocean wears it down. New rocks surface, and the process repeats itself (this is where we get sand in case you were wondering.) It made me realize how long a rocks life is, and how short mine is. I then started estimating earth's life (about 6 billion years), and then of course the sun (about 15 billion years), and then my own (hopefully 90+ years!....woohoo). As I then so nerdily put it, my life is a pimple on the ass of earth's time. I will be washed up into the sea, just like these rocks, and, you guessed it, the process will repeat itself....depressing? Not quite.

If there is one constant in this world, it is time. Things are born, and things die, yet nothing really stays the same. Even a plastic bottle will decompose after 1,000 years (yes, that is depressing). How many of us measure ourselves against time? 'Oh my God, I am almost 30 (me).' 'Time is ticking, and I'm not married yet, and don't have a boy or girlfriend in site.' 'Am I really in the job I want....oh no, I've wasted 5 precious years here.' Or, 'When I'm 40 I will be retired, and have millions of dollars!' (get off the couch first) or 'I can't wait until I'm 25 so I can finally rent a car!'. Why are we always chasing time? Is it because that is all we truly have? It's our one constant 'asset.'

I use to be the worst 'time-chaser' ever. I needed everything now, and if I couldn't have it, I forced it....sound familiar? We have so many expectations on us. Be married by this age. Graduate at this age. Have kids at this age. Be grandparents at this age. Be retired at this age. Buy my first house at this age. And on, and on, and on. Who are we living for?

You see, I decided somewhere along the line, after chasing time burned me 'time' and again, that chasing time, is actually wasting time. You follow me on this? The act of chasing literally means  'pursuing to catch up with' (google.com). After my first business failed, or I could barely make payments on my mortgage, or didn't have enough money to fix my house, truck, belongings, I realized chasing time was robbing me of the time I actually had.....

One thing I am very thankful for is my faith. It's been instilled into me by my family, school, friends, and by MY CHOICE, I make it apart of my life....apart of my time on earth. After many failures, one of the biggest things I've learned is to maximize the time I have......by living 24 hours at a time...i.e., 1 day. Within that day, I am going to commit to myself that I am going to give all of myself to the world, for just those 24 hours. I'm not going to worry about 48 hours from now, just those 24. I am going to set goals, and get 1-step closer to them, 24 hours at a time. This includes health, diet and exercise. It inlcudes prayer, and reflection.....friendship, community, hope, patience, forgiveness, love, perseverance, balance, tenacity, visualization, wisdom, kindness, charity, compassion, courage,  selflessness, and sacrifice. In 24 hours, that is all I am going to strive for. Nothing more, nothing less. I know, if I live my life according to these principals, 24 hours at a time, at the end of my days, I would have achieved so much, in the present moment. By assuming these principals, I release myself from the burden of time...I am no longer chasing, I am now living......do you see the difference? By living in the day....living within 24 hours, I make time, timeless.

24 hours, repeat....repeat what is good...repeat what is right....before you know it, 24 hours, turns into 24 days, into 24 years....reality will get rid of the old, and bring in the new. Why chase it?

don't you get it, it's my birthday....mom and dad

Does anyone actually remember coming into the world?

Your first tears, or your very first meal? Anyone?

I don't (that would be a little weird if I did).......but my mom does......and so does my dad.

I've always been so proud of my parents (wait, can't parents only be proud of their kids, does it work the other way....I guess so!) Let's start with my dad.

I don't know about you, but my dad's my hero. I remember when he taught me how to swing a baseball bat, throw my first pitch, or put on my first pair of shoulder pads. But more than that, I always admired how he lived/lives his life. Growing up, he was 1 of 9, and had 7 sisters. Their house was about the size of my garage. He was an all-state wrestler in Chicago, and Special Forces in the Marines (I always have fun telling people this, because it makes me feel like GI Joe is my dad.....if you're a guy, that's a pretty cool thing.) Pretty standard Irish Catholic family, however my Dad was/is determined to make something of himself. Those were the days when their moms and dads were working 7 days a week to support huge families, so a lot of his upbringing was to his own devices. How many of us would be able to raise ourselves, in essence? Not many. He persevered, went on to graduate college after Vietnam, and rode his way up the corporate ladder, while getting his MBA from one of the best University's in the world.....while fathering 5 children (yes, I am one of them), and working a full-time job.....I know, he's a badass. From there, he moved us out east, and joined a very well-known store/pharmacy (starts with a C), taking them from a mom and pop, to one of the most recognizable stores across the country....all while being my best friend, and mentor (I talk about Chris a lot, but Chris got it from my dad). He would then retire, and is now a Deacon. You may ask yourself, how does one go from being in Special Forces, to Corporate Executive to Deacon? Simple...he is a leader, who looks to maximize his every waking moment, while contributing everything he can to making a difference for his family, and the one's around him. He's also taught me how to be a man, and to believe in who I am. We talk all the time, about everything. Love, marriage, spirituality, the world, family, how to be a dad, sports, business...you name it, we talk about it. He's taught me how to be open with my thoughts, and how to challenge myself to become a better man. I'm pretty lucky to have someone like this to follow...to give sound advice to me based off of experience, trials and tribulations. He's so dedicated to my family and me, and lives with passion everyday. Talk about wild at heart....that's my dad.

Mom....full of tender love. Mom's have such deep love for their children, especially mine. My mom is a good ol' midwestern gal from Chicago. Born a Cubs fan, and loved the Bears. When I was a kid, my mom was so selfless.....I mean, my God, she had 5 kids within 7 years....don't see that much these days. She was tough, too. She always wanted the best of us, and made sure we were active in sports, school and faith. My mom's deep dedication to us taught me what it meant to be loving, and supportive, and faithful, and trusting....it wasn't easy being a mom of 5, but she hung in there, with grace, strength, hope and love....my mom never quit....and I can tell you right now, there's plenty of times if I were her, I would think about quitting.....but she didn't. I remember every holiday, she would make the house so warm. In fact, when I was a kid, fall was my favorite time. This time of year, my mom would hang up Halloween pictures all around the house because it brought her kids so much joy. Or for Christmas, make the house so festive that I couldn't wait to get home from school just to hangout (you know you did the same thing). Mom made home...home. As a guy, your natural tendency is to breakaway from mom eventually, and become a man...those years were tough for mom...though, because of her, as we became men, we were better for it because of her. I'm lucky to have a mom who loves so deeply, and though she's been through more than any of us can ever imagine, she still cares so deeply, and so gracefully.......the same way, when I first came into the world...the day I was born.

...it's my birthday in a couple of days...but really, Mom and Dad, my birthday is nothing without you. It's not the day where I selfishly claim to the world that "don't you get it, it's my birthday!!! Tag me, tag me, tag me", but rather, now, I am reminded of the day you BROUGHT me into the world....the same mom and dad team who cared and loved for me unconditionally....before I could remember.....the same way you do to this day.

So, happy birthday, Mom and Dad....today is really about you, and the complete selflessness it took, to make me who I am today. Thank you, and I love you.

death is a funny thing....you live on forever....

What an amazing thing death does (bear with me here for a few...).

There is nothing more human, more real, more inevitable than death (no, wait, don't leave....have the courage to read this, I think it will have a positive impact...it did on me).

Have you ever had a time in your life where the completely unexpected became a reality? Where some of your worst fears came true? What impact did this moment have on you? How did you respond? Was it the response you thought you would have?

A man by the name of Chris Nelson was my best friend. He was also my oldest brother. Chris was one of the most determined, tenacious, caring, respectful, passionate people I've ever had the chance to look up to. You may recall Chris from my previous stories. He was always my #1 fan in everything I did, and a true mentor.

Let's take a little trip down memory lane....

There we were in Chicago, and it was Chris' big day. It was his first day of playing town football! Before this, every single birthday, all my brothers and I ever wanted were those little football outfits, that came with a helmet, shoulder pads, pants and a shirt. These outfits were the coolest things, ever! Do you remember these? I'm not surprised if you don't....my dad used to take us to JC Penny to pick them up, and they were the cheapest little things, but you would've thought you just bought us tickets to the moon, we were so pumped (that, and if going to the moon was a cool thing?). I remember my mom had Chris wait until at least 7th grade to play. He was the oldest! And she didn't want her little baby getting hurt...totally understandable, but whoa, talk about pent up aggression! Chris hit that field, and he was a star from day one. 'The 10, the 5, touchdown! Chris Nelson! That's his 3rd of the day." Chris just had this natural ability to play football. He was super scrappy, fast as hell, and had amazing instincts. It soon became obvious his passion was football, and I just sensed it as his little brother. We were so proud of him, and couldn't wait to go watch his games.

Once Chris 'graduated' 8th grade, it was the same time my dad took new a job out east, so we had to move. Naturally, Chris was a little bummed. He was just about to start high school, and double-sessions were just around the corner....he had to leave behind his buddies that he became so close with....and mostly through football. One little part I forgot to mention was, I was able to start football in 3rd grade (I think I weighed 85lbs). Even in lieu of Chris' extreme anger at this (because I was able to start much younger than him), he supported me unconditionally. He would teach me how to tackle, how to jook and jive, and even taught me how to run with my pads low. If anyone reading this also had to tackle me when I was a running back, you can thank Chris for teaching me to run helmet first. This was all Chris.

The transition to the new town was a little apprehensive, as expected, but things slowly smoothed out, and Chris found himself on the freshman squad. Now, Chris wasn't your prototypical football player...at his tallest, he might've touched 5'6" (he would probably tell you 5'9") and couldn't of weighed more than 160lbs.......but goddam was he strong. I mean, for all you weight lifters out there, Chris could bench 315lbs, for 7-8 reps, and only weighed 170lb....are you serious! Anyways, he wasn't doing this as a freshman, and as most freshman, he was just beginning manhood and his search for who he was as a person and a young man. As with all my brothers and I, we had a little edge when we moved to our new town, and this really served Chris well. As with me, football also served Chris with so much meaning, and purpose. It's where he found his closest friends...guys like Paymen, and Jarred. By the time Chris became a Senior, his determination, work ethic and commitment earned his teammates respect, so much so, that they made him captain.....and he may have been the smallest guy on the team....seriously. I remember the high school had no training program, so Chris would actually invite the guys over to lift weights in my parents basement. Literally, there would be 30-40 guys screaming, and pushing weights in my basement every week. What a leader.

Chris went on to the Navy right out of high school. I definitely think he could've gone on to play football in college, but I don't think his heart was in it at that point. He headed off to boot camp, and became a man. Of course, being the leader he was, he tested higher than everybody, on almost every test, physically and mentally, that they made him Co-Chief Petty Officer, and was second in command to the head of his unit. What an honor! Boot-camp, as many of you know, is a long period of time, away from family. No Facebook, Hey Nelly, or Google+, just plain old letters. I remember Chris finally had the chance to come home, and I had the opportunity to go pick him up. I was so proud of him, I could barely wait to see him, I remember to this day the exact elevator he took, in the exact spot of Logan, that he came down. I know I've gone down it multiple times since, and it reminds me of Chris every time. There he was in his white uniform, shiny black shoes, and sailor hat. If you had a picture of my hero at that time, this was it. I was so happy, that this marked my first man-hug. That's right, my first hug of another man was Chris when he came home on leave. Of course, it didn't last long, but I didn't know how else to react. He looked great, and you could tell he had become a man.

I soon came to find, that the men in the navy also had a great time! For my 8th grade 'graduation', my mom was nice enough to buy me a ticket to go see Chris in Pensacola, Fl. where he was stationed. Whoa! Chris new all the spots, and every pretty woman on base was chasing after him. Just like him....have girls drooling over him. I remember this trip marked my first of many things. Chris and I had our first beers together (I know, I was young, what are you going to do), it was my first time jet-skiing, and it was my first time to Florida. I went home, and couldn't stop talking about it for weeks! I was so proud of him.

Soon, Chris would move on from the Navy, and found himself at Northeastern, where he played rugby. Of course, like many people, Chris wasn't sure if college was for him. He started a promotion company while at school to pay the bills, and thought he should just work for a while, and tend to school later. So, he did. Like many men at this age, it can be a confusing time. A time when you don't really know what you want to do. That said, Chris found a way to build a nice little resume for himself. He became the General Manager of a very well-regarded fitness complex, and low and behold, one of the people he trained was a Harvard Administrator. From there, Chris' life would change forever.

She saw something in Chris, and asked him why he didn't finish school. It didn't really have a good answer, so she suggested he come and interview to see if he may be able to take classes at Harvard. He did....and 2 years later, he went from college drop-out to Harvard graduate. Not bad. One of my favorite pictures from this time was Chris with his gown on, holding his daughter, my God Daughter, in his arms. Again, I was so proud of Chris.

Soon after this, Chris found himself starting a couple of companies. Of course the economy didn't help, but he pressed on. He was finding his way, and was becoming a man. I too was beginning to become a man, so we had a lot to share with one another, and always loved talking about business. He was super sharp, and a great business man.

We both bought houses close to one another (more, I bought a house close to Chris), so there was no shortage of sharing/stealing/taking without asking, of each others stuff, mostly yard stuff. Chris' lawnmower lived at my house for months on end (during the summer, and then I would give it back in winter!). We always had a good laugh about this. He would say, "Dave, will you bring my goddam lawnmower back?" Of course, after a few more weeks of cutting my lawn, I would surely surrender and bring it back.

As the economy got tougher, it definitely started taking it's toll on Chris. You could tell he was frustrated, and it was becoming visible. We would have one-less laugh, or just not talk at all. I hated this, but we were all experiencing the same thing. Chris, though, seemed a little more irritable, a little more upset...and we didn't know why.

Fast forward, end of July, early August 2009. It was time to bring Chris' lawnmower back. It was getting pretty dark out, and his new puppy was still outside on his leash. No lights were on in the house, and you could see a small glare of the TV. I just had this weird feeling going into his house. The aura was off, and it had been for several months at this point. I go in, and Chris was laying on his couch sleeping. Again, no lights, just TV. I shake him to awake him, and he wasn't responding. My heart dropped. Finally, I slapped him, and he woke up, and said, "hey man, what's going on." Relief.

Me, "Dude, what the hell! You scared the shit out of me." Chris, "Dude, I don't know what it is, but I'm so tired, and I can't feel my right arm." Me, "Dude, are you serious? You might have a heart condition, you should get that checked out." Chris (typical Nelson response) "No, I'm fine." Me, "If it persists, you need to go to the hospital. Give me a call, and I'll take you." Chris, "Ok, thanks man." I stayed a few more minutes and then went home.

The next day, Jenna and I headed into the city to eat with Jenna's family. It was a beautiful day, and the mood was good. We were driving home, and I saw I had a missed call from my sister. I figured I'd call her back once I got home. Soon after, I received a text message from her...

"Chris is at Mass General right now, he has 2 tumors on his brain."

.......my world stopped.

We were just leaving the city, and Jenna had no idea what I just read. I didn't even know how to say it. I just whispered it, and then turned around and headed to Mass General Hospital.

I arrived, and there was Chris and my mom and dad were with him. My brothers were just arriving as well. It turns out a detection of skin cancer they spotted a couple of years back had intensified, and spread throughout Chris' body. He had stage 4 melanoma, of which gave us, and Chris, a lot of answers for his irritability, and sleepiness over the past year.

I thought Chris was going to be devastated, but in someways, I saw relief. He was suffering from this, and had no idea what was causing his discomforts. They put him into emergency surgery to remove the tumors. This was successful, however after more testing, they found it had spread throughout his body, and had become terminal.....it was also August 13, his 30th birthday......we were crushed as a family.

You know, I never really thought how I would react to something this. You definitely think throughout time, "I really hope I don't lose someone close to me. I don't think I could live." And then this feeling becomes a reality. Here's my best friend, my brother, and he's dying of cancer....and he's only 30. I immediately turned selfish and angry, because I was going to miss him. But something almost very strange was happening with Chris. As the days moved on, and Chris began to fail more, he was also becoming more at peace, and more in love with the close ones around him. I took 3 weeks off from work, and we shared some of the most special moments I will ever remember. Gentle moments, moments of advice, moments of peacefulness and prayer, moments of laughing and crying, hoping and dreaming. In his last few weeks, Chris became so alive, so graceful, so courageous. He had such a deep faith, and no one really knew this about him until this moment in time. He was seeking people out to reconcile with, he was constructing letters to his daughter for her to read once she became a teenager, he was exuding love and forgiveness and friendship, to points I've never seen from him before. He was living life to fullest of his ability, in the face of death. Because he loved so deeply, and cared so deeply that what he left behind was at peace, and in-love. His battle with death brought our family closer than ever. Old friends were visiting, good laughs were being shared, and deep love was in the air.

I was lucky enough to have some deep and private moments with Chris. During one of his final weeks, we went to church together. At this point, he could barely walk, and had an oxygen tank next to him. We were walking into church, my dad just a little ways behind, and I asked Chris if he had 3 wishes, what would they be...not sappy wishes, but manly wishes, and if you know Chris by this point, you'll understand his wishes: "Meet the President, Make a Million Dollars in a Year, Go to Africa and See Lions." Sounds like a man, wild at heart. I let him know I would fulfill these for him, and me.

Chris died on October 14, 2009. His 2 year memorial is just a little over a week from today.

....That's also my birthday...and fitting enough, I was re-born on this day. To live a life full of strength, hope and love, as it's suppose to be, and in Chris' honor. These principals will live on forever, and they are the same principals that embodied Chris, as they are within me, with all my might. So, when asked if I responded the way I thought I would, I would say no. I responded with an extreme sense of purpose, my own and Chris', to live this life, and each day....anew.....with no fear.....with big dreams.... love....hope and strength....because with this, Chris, my friend....you will live forever, and I with you.

A note from Steve Jobs, RIP:

"No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true."

men, we're wild at heart

Just before heading into Senior year in college, I remember I had a shaved head, a beard, I weighed 235lbs, and scared girls off because I was such a meathead...but I didn't care...I was wildman, and it felt so right. We were heading into Spring practice, and each senior had the opportunity to get up and give a speech on why they wanted to be captain. Everyone gave inspirational talks...I had nothing planned, and quite frankly, didn't know what I was going to say, so I just rolled with it. In rolling with it, I let my heart free...I realized any canned speech wasn't going to do, so I was just going to speak what I felt.

Something to this effect, "I will lead you into fucking battle. I am the machine gunner on top of the jeep, exposed, foaming at the mouth for anyone crazy enough to take us on. To take me on. I will not quit until we hold that trophy high, and are stomping up and down on Lehigh's field. I am your fucking machine gunner, ready to lay everything I have down for you. Are you with me?"

I was elected captain, maybe in part because of this weird speech....but it felt so right. I felt wild at heart, and it made me feel alive. My team made me feel alive. We were cavaliers on the run, men without a cause, warriors ready to do whatever it took to defeat their opponent. Have you ever thought why things like football, baseball, hockey, rugby, or any other sport, makes us men feel alive? Because it taps into what our hearts truly desire. As John Eldridge puts in his Book "Wild at Heart", a man's heart seeks 3 things: A battle to fight, An Adventure to Live, and a Beauty to Rescue......again, A battle to fight, An Adventure to Live, and a Beauty to Rescue...sounds about right.

A battle to fight. This also means, something to live for....and to passionately live for, to the point that you believe in it to your core, that nothing can sway this, or get in the way of it...purpose, meaning...sound familiar? We need challenge. We need obstacles. We need failures to get past. We need to win. We thrive on the verge of failure everyday. You ever think about that? When I played football, we were always on the verge of losing. When paying my mortgage got tough a couple of years ago, I was always on the verge of losing my house. Follow me on this...this doesn't mean I was a loser,  but the battle to fight inside of me and/or my teammates was so strong, so alive, that losing did not become an option. This makes us men. Physically, emotionally, physiologically, this makes us men. When we lose, why do we feel so bad? Because we're made to win. Always. Now, when I wake up every morning, I reflect on what my battle to fight is. Be more balanced? Grow deeper in my faith? Achieve meaningful, purposeful, fulfilling things? What are those things? How will I get there? Am I on way now? No? Why not? You see, this is the male mind. We need a battle to fight...good, bad, or indifferent. That said, as a man, the battle is up to you to fight, and what that battle is makes a big difference.

What is your battle to fight? Is it making a positive difference?

An Adventure to Live. God I love this one. An Adventure to Live. What a contrast to how most of us men are really living our lives. You know, you were made for this....truly, you were. We take this for granted. Take a moment to reflect what men have accomplished (and women) who chose to have an adventure to live. This means, letting go...releasing....moving past assumptions, or what others think is right and wrong. It's about creating your path, your own legacy. How many times have you been told, "oooo, that's risky." Or, "Don't be a fool, get your education, get a job, get a home". I'm typing on a computer someone was crazy enough to dream up. Or on a website, some person decided they were going to run with. Or how about living in America. We had some old Yankees fight off the powerful British because they finally had enough, let go, and from there America was born. America...like it or not, and it sucks at the moment, the core of our country was built by men who had an adventure to live, and try to expand beyond their current situation. I vow to have an adventure to live...it makes life worth living...strange isn't, it makes life worth living....as a man. I will try new things, blaze paths I believe are right, and live looking back with no regrets. (As a side exercise, take a moment, and pretend you're an 80 year-old man or woman. Now, pretend you're sitting at your front porch, looking back on your life. What do you see? Do you like what you see? Do you have any regrets? Anything you wish you did or tried, but now it's too late? Think about this everyday). I will throw aside my assumptions, and try new things, and will not wait until it's too late.

What's your adventure to live? Do you have many assumptions holding you back?

A beauty to rescue. My beautiful wife, Jenna. I will do anything for her, and for our family. I will hunt and gather, and put my life on the line to keep them safe and happy. Before I had Jenna, I didn't realize this, but having a beauty to rescue gives man some of his deepest meaning. I am meant to protect the beauty and sanctity of my family, and anyone who comes in the way of that, violates man at his deepest level. Some men even get mad if another man is simply talking to his beauty. Sound familiar? This gives us meaning. But, it's hard to find. I consider myself a lucky man. Having a beauty to rescue makes up 1/3 of why I exist. Not having that, makes men only 2/3 man. That said, a beauty doesn't just accept any man, a beauty accepts a man who has the first two things down. They want a man, a strong, masculine man, who is not afraid to live life, and will fight with all of his might for what he believes in. Is that you?

Men, we're wild at heart. We're required to be these things, yet, life finds a way to castrate men...leaving them meaningless, with nothing to fight for, no adventure to hang his hat on, and not a beauty in the world who will look twice at him.

A great philosopher once said, "All men die, few actually live."

Embrace who you are....as a man....wild at heart.