Author: Ricardo

A giant rocky body came from outer space and smashed into the Earth.  Dinosaurs pretty much lost the throne after that.  Men and women with science degrees are in agreement that this is the way it went down.  Sure, there are people with and without science degrees who disagree, but they have the burden of proving all the others wrong.  

A giant rocky body slamming into the Earth is a bona fide catastrophe.  It’s life or death (heavy on the “death” part).  It’s truly life-changing, Earth-shattering, mountain-moving.  It’s a big deal.  And it’s sort of inescapable.  You need a lot of luck to survive something like that.  

If you’re a dinosaur.

If you’re reading this, then you aren’t a dinosaur.  Luck has little to do with getting through life’s challenges.  Extinction-inducing, giant hunks of rock aren’t the obstacles that most of us face.  I recognize that lfe throws some people the kinds of challenges that most of us are grateful to avoid, but we all have our own problems to deal with.   In the vast majority of cases, we’re not facing life or death.  We’re just dealing with inconveniences, delays, embarassments, setbacks…things that won’t kill us or anyone else for that matter.

Barring a giant rocky body from outer space smashing into the Earth, tomorrow will come.  Chances are we’ll have the opportunity to try again.  After all, we’re not dinosaurs, are we?

When I got off the train today, this kid…about 12 or 13 years old…came bursting out of the door ahead of me and start running.  He took off.  He had a smile on his face.  He was dressed in his school uniform.  A backpack was slung over one shoulder.  A raincoat was slung over the other.  He tore off down the ramp and was up the road and out of sight in a matter of seconds.  He took off running.  Running.

Running.  Frickin’ running.

He ran with purpose.  He ran with complete commitment.  He ran because…well, shit.  He ran because he was 12 years old, and he freakin’ could.

I walked.

Once, long ago, I wan.  At some point, I stopped running.  I stopped running long before the dress shoes and the khakis and the Land’s End Oxford, button-down shirt.  

Running, of course, is a metaphor for the kind of wild, reckless energy that we put into the things we did when we were younger and believed in our own potential.  It’s literal, too.

Something changes along the way, and we forget how to run.  More accurately, we choose to stop running because, you know, running is what kids do.  

Those kids are having fun.  Watch them.  

Life is simple.  Just run.  Run and run and run.  Smile.  Laugh.  And run.

Whatever you do, wherever you do it, do it like that kid coming off the train.  He had school trousers on.  He wore a sweater and an Oxford.  He even wore a tie.  And he still ran.  I bet you the little bugger is still running.  I like to think that he’ll keep running for the rest of his life.  

Wake up tomorrow, and start running.  The rest will follow…literally and figuratively.

What are the things around you?  With what do you surround yourself?  

Are you inspired?  Or are you bored?

Awake?  Or asleep?

Alive?  Or dead?  Ish.

Humans are hard-wired with vision as our primary sensory input.  Lacking vision, our other sense kick in and fill the void.  Regardless of which sense has taken the lead, our brains are stimulated by input from the physical world.  Our cognitive processing is impacted by the degree of input: recency, frequency, intensity.  Input affects how we think, so it affects everything that we say, do, and feel.

The things surrounding you, then, are vital to what you do and how you do it.

Once again, being deliberate is the key to unlocking potential.  How you arrange your world of input can and will have an effect on the results you achieve.  

So, take a look at the things around you… 

Some ideas stick.

Some ideas burn.

The most lethal ideas stick and burn at the same time.  They are ideas like napalm in your mind.

When trapped in the mind, they become the ideas that consume.  These are the ideas that become obsession.  They destroy.  Life becomes a smoldering pile of ash with the glowing ember of the idea at the center, threatening to erupt into a conflagration all over again.

The only answer is to unleash the idea.  There is a subtle line, almost imperceptible, at the border between obsession and commitment.  The only thing that distinguishes those who lie in the blackened ruins and those who survive and thrive in the heart of the fire is the courage to set the idea free, to loose it upon the world.  

The idea will destroy when left bottled up.  If the passion is strong enough to ignite, then the idea deserves to be free.  It deserves to spread.  It deserves to stick and burn anyone willing to come close enough to it.  Let them catch the fire of your idea and spread it again.  Farther and farther from the center.  Let the fire burn.

If you are committed, your ideas will stick.

If you are committed, you ideas will burn.

Your most lethal ideas stick and burn at the some time, and they can only do so when you are there, fully present, prepared to set the world on fire.  

Your best ideas are like napalm in your mind.

I am seeking comfort.

What I do, how I do it, why I do it…all meaningless.  My job is meaningless.  My hobbies are meaningless.  My relationships are meaningless.  None of it matters unless I am comfortable with who I am.  That doesn’t mean that I have to fully understand who I am.  No, that’s a goal, and a lofty one at that.  It’s a goal, but it’s not necessarily one that I think can be achieved.  I expect to wake up every day and discover something new about myself.  I hope that happens for the next hundred years (or however many I have left).  I am not seeking comfort in that regard.

Instead, I am seeking comfort with the path I have chosen to travel.  Things will change and decisions will be made, but I want to feel good about the way I navigate through life.  I think that’s the real goal.

I hope that you can achieve comfort, too.  Not in the sense that you become complacent or shy away from taking risks in life.  I hope that you achieve the comfort that comes with being confident in your ability to make the right decisions that align with your core beliefs.  That’s the kind of comfort I am looking for: the confidence that my core beliefs drive my behaviors.   

I am seeking comfort.

A former coworker of mine found out that he is going to be a grandfather. He posted a jubilant note to broadcast the news to friends. In his post, he commented that he doesn’t care what sex the baby is nor what she calls him. He’s just so damn happy to be a grandparent!

That got my wondering what my brother wants his new little grandchild to call him.

That got me thinking about my own future grandchildren and whether or not they will call me “abuelo” or “abue” or “papa”…

Then I thought about my own roots, my own sense of “from whence I came”. I got sad because I do not feel like I can take my children to see the place where I grew up. I can’t show them the houses I lived in. I can’t show them the school that I went to. I can’t take them to places I hung out or the spots I took my dates. I can’t share that with them.

My wife can do all that. They walk in her footsteps all the time. We lived in her hometown before coming over here. So, they understand their mother’s past in a different way.

And that’s when I found the words: I am afraid of you, Mexico. Seems silly, doesn’t? Maybe. But I do not feel safe returning to see you right now. I do not feel safe sharing you with the people I love the most. You are out of my reach, and it is so unfortunate. It used to make me sad. It used to depress me. Now…now I just see it as so unfortunate.

I know that I am just one person. You won’t miss me. But I will miss you. I love you. Did you know that?

Who knows what tomorrow will bring. For today…pues hoy te extraño.