We push ourselves to the next work out, the next career milestone, and to the next big life moment so fast that we forget to stop, connect, and just breathe in the beauty of now

I was doing laundry one day when I was 27.  The washer and dryer happened to be down two flights of stairs and after two trips I was breathing heavy, and needed a break.  

It’s football season, which means I’m excited for the Cleveland Browns draft in April. I mean, we haven’t been good in a long time.  I think I was 6 and vaguely remember when Bernie Kosar and The Browns losing two years in a row to John Elway and the Denver Broncos

She asked me if would have really gone through with it. If the picture of my mom and dad didn’t stay up on my desk and tug at my heart enough to stop me, what would have I done? 

I remember the longest night in my life with vivid memory. I remember the scare and terror on my mom’s face as I shoved her out of her own house. My explosion of anger at her honest and accurate feedback about how I was acting was the first bit of honesty that had landed on my ears from my mom in some time. 

I was a jock in high school, but a classmate, Joe, he wasn’t a jock.  He was rather anti-establishment.

I built a working transformer costume and I wore it to my company dinner tonight; it got a lot of laughs. #stillachild  

I was just a young adult, maybe 24, with an idea that I could talk about emotions and have people listen.