We’re Not in Kansas Anymore

If you’re familiar with the saying “In like a lion and out like a lamb,” which describes the seasonal transition from March into April, then you’ll understand the theme of this post. This year has already started like a lion—bold, aggressive, and full of movement. Decisions at the office have required careful navigation,and those choices have created a bit of juggling personally as well.

Truthfully, I invited all of it. The restructuring in motion is manageable, and everything should unfold according to plan. The biggest challenge isn’t the change itself—it’s the management of the timing. But that’s the nature of any major undertaking. When you take on something big, you accept that things won’t always align perfectly. That’s my perspective. But what about the individual who feels like they didn’t ask for it? The one caught in the whirlwind of decisions beyond their control? If this kind of disruption happens frequently, or even just once in a while, it’s worth considering: What role am I playing in the turmoil?

I bring this up because I recently caught myself asking, Why are all these things happening to me? That question made me pause. I realized I needed to reframe it—Why are these things happening for me? The truth is, in addition to transitioning to a virtual practice, my wife and I are also planning for an early retirement. This part of the journey has led to plenty of mental gymnastics—not for the reasons most might assume. I don’t define myself by what I do, nor is my self-worth tied to my career. My real challenge, like many others, is this: Will I find fulfillment in whatever comes next? And, not to brag, but I’ve become a bit spoiled when it comes to certain material things—things I’ll likely have to alter. The real work is letting go of the feelings those things provide and embracing the freedom that comes with detachment. I’m invested in that exercise, in discovering what lies beyond the comforts I’ve grown accustomed to. Because in the end, what we let go of often makes room for what we truly need.

Speaking of Things We Truly Need

I have personally planted every tree and shrub on our property—except for the three trees that were already there when we bought the house in 2014. So, you can imagine my frustration when one of my neighbors, who has a habit of reporting everyone to code enforcement, had me cited for a gravel swale. Unbeknownst to me, a gravel swale isn’t allowed. The solution? I had to get the gravel removed with a front-end loader. Then, I spread nine yards of topsoil, followed by 100 feet of edging and 125 plants. It had been a long time since I had to put my back into something outside of the gym, and I’ll be honest—it felt damn good. Nothing beats the satisfaction of using your hands to accomplish something. Of course, I took my time. What once would have been an afternoon’s work stretched into five days. But that didn’t matter. When I stepped back and looked at what I had completed, it felt incredible. And it was during those moments, shovel in hand, that I started making the distinctions that inspired this blog. My mentor, Dr. Larry Markson, would always say: Success comes from you, not to you. Change your thoughts, and you change your life.

So, I will embrace the storm before the quiet. And while I hate to do this, I’ll indulge the Millennials for a moment: ‘I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire, cause I’m a champion and you’re gonna hear me roar. Loader, louder than a lion. Cause I’m a champion and you’re gonna hear me roar.’ – Katy Perry  

Have a great week, everyone!