An interruption well lived

Lately, I’ve been wondering if I’ve been thinking about interruptions all wrong. I tend to get frustrated when life throws unexpected detours my way—plans get derailed, schedules shift, something or someone demands my attention when I’d rather be doing something else. I catch myself thinking, If I could just get past this distraction, I could really get on with life. But what if these aren’t just interruptions to life? What if they are life?

C.S. Lewis wrote, “The truth is, of course, that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one’s real life—the life God is sending one day by day.” That quote hit me hard when I came across it this week. Because if I’m honest, I spend a lot of time resisting the very moments that make up my actual, lived experience. I have a tendency to see real life as something just beyond my reach—waiting for me once I finish my to-do list, once I solve this problem, once I feel better, once I get past whatever today’s inconvenience happens to be. But what if this—the mess, the unpredictability, the unplanned conversations, the detours, this sickness and pain—is exactly the life I’m meant to be present for?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot in light of my recent hospital visits and medical issues. None of that was part of my plan. It was inconvenient, frustrating, even a little scary. I wanted to be anywhere else, doing anything else. But looking back, I can see that those experiences weren’t just obstacles to get past—they were moments that shaped me. The forced stillness, the conversations with doctors and nurses, the unexpected grace of people showing up for me—those weren’t just disruptions; they were reminders of what really matters.

Jesus seemed to understand this better than anyone. So many of the moments that changed people’s lives happened in what looked like interruptions. He was on His way somewhere when a woman reached out to touch His garment. He was traveling when a blind beggar cried out to Him. He was teaching when children ran up, and instead of shooing them away, He welcomed them. From one perspective, His whole ministry was just a series of interruptions. But He didn’t treat them as distractions from His real work—He made them His real work.

Lately, I’ve been participating in a Bible study at church where we’ve been working through the book of James, where he urges believers to “Consider it a great joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials,” (James 1:2). That’s a radical statement—joy, in trials? But James isn’t saying we should force a smile through hardship. He’s pointing to something deeper: the idea that trials refine us, shape our character, mature us in our faith, and deepen our dependence on God. Maybe these so-called interruptions—these unexpected moments of difficulty—are actually the very means by which God is forming something in me that wouldn’t exist otherwise.

So what does that mean for me? For you? I don’t have an easy answer. But I wonder how different life might feel if I stopped resenting and resisting the things that disrupt my plans and started receiving them as invitations. Invitations to grow, to listen, to be fully where I am instead of wishing I were somewhere else. Invitations to trust that even in the moments that feel inconvenient or frustrating, something meaningful is happening.

I don’t have this figured out. I still get impatient. I still wish things would go the way I expect and desire. But I’m trying—trying to hold my plans more loosely, to embrace the interruptions instead of resisting them. Because maybe, just maybe, they’re not interruptions at all. Maybe they’re the very moments through which God is teaching me joy.

We can't schedule our crises

Most of the time, we go about our lives without needing a doctor or a counselor—until suddenly, we do. An injury. A health scare. A mental health crisis. And in that moment, you need help. Right now.

I just went through this myself. I spent time in the hospital, and while they triaged the situation, there’s still so much that needs to be done for me to get back to a place where my daily life isn’t negatively impacted. I’m ready to do the work, to take the steps toward healing. But as I’ve reached out to specialists and providers, I’ve hit a wall—their schedules are packed. The soonest appointments are months away.

It’s a frustrating, even hopeless, feeling. When you’re in pain or struggling, you want to take action. You want to move forward. But instead, you wait. And it makes me wonder—why is it like this? Why is the moment we realize we need care the same moment we discover how hard it is to get? And what are we supposed to do in the meantime?

My first instinct is to call the referring doctors and ask if anything can be expedited. But then I stop and wonder—would that just mean bumping someone else further down the list? Someone who’s just as desperate for relief as I am? Is my pain, my need for care, more important than theirs?

Is this just a simple supply and demand issue—too many patients, not enough providers? Or is there something more? I don’t know the answers, but I do know that waiting is hard.

Hope is enough for today

Hope is a powerful thing. As someone traveling the road of faith, I’ve long understood its importance, but today I was reminded just how tangible it can be.

At a doctor’s appointment, after a rough six days, we discussed a new plan—one that included different medication my doctor believed would better manage my pain. She explained why she thought it would be more effective, and I noticed something: even though I hadn’t started taking it yet, even though we don’t know for sure if it will work, just hearing that there was a next step—just the hope of relief—shifted something in me. My pain didn’t change in that moment, but my outlook did.

It struck me how often hope works this way. It doesn’t erase the struggle, but it changes how we carry it. Sometimes, just knowing there’s a path forward makes all the difference.

An immovable tradition

“The habit quickly morphed into an immovable tradition, with Ken joking that a school-style written note of absence is necessary for anyone who dares bail without good reason, although one member of the group is legitimately absent this week due to a holiday.” (David Spereall, BBC Yorkshire, The Mates Who Have Met for a Pint Every Thursday for 56 Years)

This is a short excerpt from an article about a group of men who have met together weekly for 56 years. The phrase that really captured me in the quote above is the fact that these men (who are now in their 80s) have had an “immovable tradition” for that long. And it is that immovable tradition that has cultivated what must be (aside from their spouses) the most significant relationships they have.

I enjoyed reading the article but I have to be honest; I found myself feeling exposed and maybe even a little jealous. I wished that I had those types of relationships in my life. The reality is that I find myself in my mid-50s not really having any friends. Sure, I know a lot of people that I’m friendly with and I enjoy their company when I see them but there isn’t anyone who is my default, “let’s go hang out and grab a meal or go for a hike” type of guy. And I don’t have anyone like that reaching out to me. Back in the day when my kids were younger and we were always so busy as a family with the kids’ activities, I didn’t really notice it. But, now that the kids are older and pursuing their own interests independently from us, I’ve been faced with the stark reality that I haven’t really cultivated any friendships over the past 20 years.

I need to consider what I do about that. I’ve tried reaching out to a couple guys in the neighborhood over the past year to connect for coffee or to grab some food. They seemed open to the idea but the thing I run up against is that most people already have their groups established and it’s difficult to break through the established circle of friends. At this point, my only social outlet is as a couple with my wife. I certainly don’t mind that and the couples we get together with all enjoy each other. But, while the ladies have deep connections and spend lots of time together, we guys only connect when the wives pull us together. We never get together just us guys.

But, I can’t feel too sorry for myself. Because as I take stock, I have to acknowledge that I do have my own immovable tradition. For the past 18 years, I’ve connected with a friend for coffee every week. Well, almost every week. Sometimes travel and work schedules or the occasional illness get in the way. Over the years we’ve met on different days, at different times, and at different locations. Currently, we meet every Friday at 8:30 a.m. at our local coffee shop. It’s something I look forward to as it’s one of my only outlets for true connection. An opportunity to get out of the house (a nice break for someone who works from home), enjoy a good cup of coffee, have interesting and sometimes challenging conversations, and at the end I leave for home feeling known. For now, maybe that’s good enough.

Weeknote: 2025.02

Work

Monday was my first day back “in the office” since December 20th. It’s the first time in a long time (ever?) that I’ve taken off a full two weeks during the Christmas and New Year holidays. Given that I was sick that entire time and rather than using that time to recharge it was spent recovering, I wasn’t really looking forward to returning to work. But, I spent time last Sunday evening reviewing my calendar for the week ahead to set expectations and make a decision to enter into Monday optimistic and ready to start the year off strong.

In an ideal world I would have ensured my first few days of the week were not quite as meeting-heavy as they were. It would have been nice to have a more gradual ramp back into the work grind but it was not to be. There was no time to gradually get up to speed to safely merge. I had to get from zero to sixty immediately.

Much of the first half of the week was spent doing some internal and external interviews to bolster some research we are doing in support of a new strategic initiative. I also wanted to spend some one-on-one time with the team members that I support to catch up on their holidays, wish them a happy new year, and align on the performance review process that is kicking off. I started working on a couple of personal deliverables I need to complete before the end of the month. In particular, I drafted an update I will present to our executive leadership team later this month. In addition to establishing the structure and outlining the story I want to tell, I also identified all of the data and other inputs I’ll need to complete the slide deck.

I also spent some time with my manager reviewing all the things currently on my plate and seeking some guidance on how best to balance both the individual contributor responsibilities on my plate in addition to my people management responsibilities. I seem to have become the default assignee for all the special projects my boss’s boss spins up and I’m now at the point where something has to give. I’m not able to effectively move them all forward given my current capacity and the last thing I want is for the team members I support to suffer.

Personal

Although I started feeling relatively better this week, I’m still not sleeping well. Despite my efforts to consistently implement good sleep hygiene habits, I’ve had a terrible time falling and staying, asleep. My wife’s hypothesis is that it’s stress related and I don’t necessarily doubt her. I was very intentional this week to wake up and go to bed at the same time each night. I also ensured I exercised each day. I managed my caffeine, water, and food intake. After heading to bed, I didn’t have any screen time. I just read my book. If I found my mind and/or heart racing, I practiced breathing exercises and prayed. Still, I struggled with managing more than four hours of sleep each night. And I had to fight hard for that four hours. There are a couple of environmental things I’m going to try (seeing if I can make my room a little cooler and darker) as well as some supplementation I might experiment with but I may just need to head to the doctor soon.

I’m still getting used to this new season of parenting. Just because all my kids are all adults now (18, 20, 22), there is still parenting happening. It’s just different. And I’m still getting used to it. They are all in different stages of work, school, and pursuing careers but they are all living at home still. It seems like that will be changing soon with two of them on track to transfer to other universities in the fall but in the meantime, I’ve trying to encourage them to take advantage of the time they have at home. A time to stretch, grow, try, and fail while they have the safety net we’re able to provide them while they are still under our roof.

My son returned this week after spending the last week+ visiting friends on the East Coast. There were some things I wanted to catch up on so I invited him to grab a beer with me on Wednesday. Although he’s 22 years old now, I think it’s the first time just the two of us have sat across the table from one another, enjoyed a cold beverage together, and just talked about things going on in his life. I enjoyed that. I’ve learned that he’s much more receptive to substantive conversations if we’re out of the house and doing something together (i.e., hiking, shooting hoops, etc…).

I’m embarrassed to admit this but one of the “exciting” things that happened this week is we got our Litter Robot delivered. This was a purchase I avoided for a couple of years now but I finally pulled the trigger. With three cats in the house and me being the only person who works from home, I end up scooping cat boxes way more than I would prefer. Especially when the cats really belong to my girls. So, rather than continue to gripe about being the only one who keeps the boxes clean or continue pestering my girls to clean the boxes, I decided it was an investment in my own sanity. The verdict is still out on whether it will meet my expectations. One cat took to it right away, one cat is still a little leery of it, and the other doesn’t think it’s a big deal.

Exercise

I was still not feeling 100% this week but I wanted to make sure I at least spent a little time moving each day. Most of my exercise this week was on the stationary bike but I also got a little walking in as well. Due to my taking a step backward with my health, Friday and Saturday were both inactive days.

  • 🚴🏽‍♂️ Bike = 21.5 miles, 1h 18m
  • 🚶🏻‍♂️ Walk = 7 miles, 1h 40m

📷 In addition to the exercise and fresh air, the best thing about my walk was this view:

Media

📚 I’m currently reading The Confident Mind by Nate Zinsser. Zinsser is the Director of West Point’s Performance Psychology Program and has worked with collegiate, professional, and Olympic athletes in addition to military and business leaders. I’ve enjoyed learning more about the research and data that demonstrates the correlation between what/how we think and how we perform. It’s especially interesting learning about the relationship between our thoughts and the physiological responses elicited by them.

🍿 I watched Carry On, Mississippi Burning, 1917, and Don’t Die: The Man Who Wants to Live Forever.

Things I’m looking forward to next week

  • 😴 Sleeping and feeling better
  • 🏋🏼‍♂️ Remaining consistent with exercise habits
  • 🎂 Celebrating my mom’s birthday
  • 📺 Season 2 of Severance
  • 😉 Doing a more concise, summarized, bullet point weeknote

Learning something new in 2025

New Year’s Day was mostly a quiet, lazy one for me—nothing special, just some time to relax. But I did manage to do something that feels a little bit monumental: I signed up for a Drawing for Beginners class at the local college. It’s one of their Continuing & Community Education classes, which means it’s low-stakes and open to anyone who just wants to learn something new.

Now, here’s the thing: this is not something I would have done for myself in the past. For most of my life, I’ve been the guy behind the scenes—the husband, the dad, the one who holds down the fort while everyone else chases their dreams and explores their interests. And I’ve been happy to play that role, truly. But lately, I’ve started to wonder what it would be like to do something just for me. It’s taken a while to shake the idea that doing so would be “selfish,” but this class feels like a small step in that direction.

I’ve always wanted to learn how to draw. Not because I have some grand plan to be the next Picasso—trust me, I don’t. It’s just something I’ve always thought would be fun to do. That said, I’m horrendous at it right now. Any game that involves drawing—Pictionary, Telestrations—has me practically breaking out in a sweat. My stick figures look like they’re having a bad day. But I’m not signing up to become amazing; I’m signing up to give myself permission to be a beginner.

At first, I thought about teaching myself at home. A sketchpad, some pencils, and YouTube tutorials—it would’ve been cheaper and easier to fit into my schedule. But then I realized the bigger appeal of an in-person class: it gets me out of the house. For someone who works from home, exercises in a garage gym, and generally spends a lot of time in his own bubble, the idea of walking into a classroom full of strangers felt oddly… exciting. And maybe a little intimidating, too.

The class starts in a couple of weeks, but I’m already equipped with everything I need, thanks to my oldest daughter. When she asked me what I wanted for Christmas, I saw an opportunity. I sent her a list of the required class supplies—a sketchpad, graphite and charcoal pencils, erasers, and a sharpener. On Christmas morning, I unwrapped the whole set, and there it was: my not-so-subtle push to stop procrastinating, get comfortable with being uncomfortable, and sign up for the class.

Those supplies sat on my desk for a week, almost daring me to take the next step. Yesterday, I finally did it. I logged onto the college’s website, created an account, and hit “register.” It felt like crossing some invisible line—one where I could say, “Yeah, this is for me.”

So here I am, about to try something new at 54 years of age, and I’m equal parts nervous and excited. I don’t know if I’ll be any good at drawing, and honestly, I don’t care. What matters to me is that I’m doing something I’ve always wanted to do, and I’m doing it for no other reason than it makes me happy. That feels pretty good.

Wrapping up 2024

A significant theme of 2024 was my health and its negative impact on my daily quality of life. Reviewing my personal journal, I estimate that 25-30% of the year was spent feeling unwell, unable to pursue the activities or lifestyle I prefer. After 15 years of living with a chronic disease, the greatest challenge remains the mental and emotional toll of not being able to live the way I truly desire. Because of this, I will continue to make my health a focus in the year ahead. Specifically, and despite the fact I’m already very proactive about optimizing my well-being, my focus for the year ahead will be ensuring I sleep and rest better. I’ve only been getting between 4-6 hours of sleep each night and I’d like to bump this up to 6-8. If there is one success metric I will track in the year ahead, this is one of them.

Despite my health challenges, I was fortunate to still enjoy some experiences and memorable moments throughout the year. Things like attending Seattle Kraken games with the family, getting dressed up for the Kentucky Derby and heading to our local racetrack with a group of friends, a trip to Hawaii, and some great hikes and kayak trips.

I also enjoyed cheering my kids on and celebrating some of their milestones and accomplishments this year. My youngest graduated from high school, started her first job and is taking classes at the local college. My oldest daughter (our middle child) decided that she wants to pursue becoming a firefighter and has pursued it with passion, successfully passing her physical and written tests and in the thick of interviews. My oldest is about to finish up his two-year transfer degree while also working part-time and is spending his winter break submitting applications to universities. It’s exciting to see them all establishing some momentum as they head into a new year.

I didn’t make as much time for reading this year as I would have liked. I ended up reading about twenty books total but the few that stand out include:

I didn’t watch many movies this year but I did enjoy a few series on streaming. In particular, I enjoyed:

One thing for sure is that the older I get the faster time seems to pass. I hope to take some time tomorrow to reflect on the year ahead but for now I need to muster enough energy to make an appearance at a NYE party so that I’m not always “that guy” who never feels well enough to join in. Not sure how late I’ll stay but I’m committed to at least show up.

Happy New Year! 🥳🥂

Clear, Concise, and Succinct: Lessons from Churchill and Ogilvy

A couple of years ago, I received feedback from senior leadership that I could improve by being more concise in my presentations and communication with senior executives. Since then, this has been a focus in my personal and professional development.

Over the past week, I came across two distinct pieces of writing—one by Winston Churchill on the value of brevity in communication, and the other by David Ogilvy offering practical tips on writing effectively. Despite being written for different contexts, both emphasize the power of clear, concise communication.

Churchill and Ogilvy reinforce the idea that effective writing is not just about what is said, but how efficiently and clearly it is communicated. Brevity is a strategic tool, especially for leaders, where time is scarce and clarity drives decisions and actions.

Brevity and being succinct are skills I’m still working on, and like any skill, they only improve with ongoing practice and thoughtful feedback. That’s also one of the reasons I’m slowly establishing a more regular habit of writing and blogging—to sharpen my communication and continue improving over time.

Weeknotes: September 30 - October 5, 2024

Earlier this year, I started creating weeknotes and posting them in my private Day One journal using a template I put together. While I’m not quite ready to share the full notes publicly, I thought I’d start posting a few highlights here—nothing too personal, just a snapshot of the media I consumed over the past week and a quote I’ve been reflecting on. The other sections of my weeknotes dive into work and personal life, and I’m still figuring out how to share those parts in a way that feels both “safe” and compelling.

I’ve been under the weather lately, so this week involved a bit more TV than usual. The quote comes from a book that’s been sitting on my shelf for almost five years since I first got it as a gift. But hey, better late than never, right? So, here’s a sneak peek into my weeknotes.

##What I’m Reading/Watching/Listening To

##Quote of the Week

“For many, the big choices in life often aren’t really choices; they are quicksand. You just sink into the place you happen to be standing.” - The Second Mountain by David Brooks

All the more reason to be careful (and intentional) about where you stand.

Hidden Potential: Prologue

Although I just started reading the book Hidden Potential by Adam Grant 📚, I wanted to start summarizing the notes and key points I’ve captured as I’ve attempted to actively read through the content. My hope is that it will aid in my retention of the material as well as provide a reference for later. Especially since I’m reading this as part of the book club I belong to at work and we’ll be discussing it when we meet in a couple months.

Here’s a closer look at some of the key insights I noted in the prologue:

  1. Redefining Potential: Grant challenges the conventional notion of potential, asserting that it transcends initial capabilities. He asserts that everyone has hidden potential. The key is to unlock it. Grant referenced a landmark study where the lead psychologist concluded, “What any person in the world can learn, almost all persons can learn, if provided with appropriate… conditions of learning.“

  2. Aspiration over Ambition: The distinction between ambition and aspiration emerges as a focal point. Grant underscores the significance of aspiring to become a certain type of person rather than merely achieving specific goals, shifting the focus from short-term accomplishments to long-term personal growth.

  3. The Evolution of Character: Grant argues that character, far from being static, is a set of learned capacities that enable individuals to live by their principles. As the Nobel laureate economist James Heckman concluded, character skills “predict and produce success in life.“

  4. Scaffolding for Growth: The concept of scaffolding serves as a metaphorical framework for facilitating learning and development. Grant illustrates how providing initial support and gradually transferring responsibility to the learner fosters autonomy and self-directed growth, akin to the process of constructing a sturdy edifice.

  5. Collective Empowerment: Through the example of the Raging Rooks chess team, Grant illuminates the potency of collective intelligence. He advocates for a collaborative approach where individuals aim not to be the smartest in the room but to elevate the collective intelligence.

  6. Measuring True Potential: Grant redefines the yardstick for assessing potential, positing that true potential is not gauged solely by peak achievements but by the journey and growth undertaken to attain them. This perspective reframes success as a continuous process of self-improvement and resilience.

Although just the prologue, I’m already hooked by Grant’s use of data, research, and story to drive home his points. I’m really looking forward to the chapters ahead.