Lessons my dad has taught me

Work first, play later.

Do your duty.

Return and report. 

When you’re overwhelmed, go to the mountains.

Do 40% of what you’re trying to do.

If you can’t say no, say, “Not yet.”

Endure well.

When you’re hurting, you can choose to hunch over and moan or stand up straight and move on.

There are ten different ways to look at a problem.

Give offers freely, and advice when solicited. 

Listen well. 

Ask questions. 

Get the whole story. 

Patience.

Most things don’t really matter.

2 am is 2 late.

Generosity.

Get your face in there.

Grace.

Question your assumptions.

Wait. 

Weird is good.

Be well, do good work, keep in touch. 

A dirty Jeep is a happy Jeep. 

Go figure it out. 

...

Just as influential as these lessons are the methods he used to teach me:

1. He spoke softly.

2. He corrected me privately. 

3. He taught briefly.

4. He taught by repetition.

5. He taught by example. 

... 

I would do well to stick to these techniques.  I guess I’ll go figure it out.

One

The space between how I imagine I do things and how I actually do them is a wide one.  Since I shifted my focus from organization to time management, it narrowed a little.  When I returned to daily spiritual nourishment, it narrowed a lot.  My expectations slowly began to morph from frothy and untouchable to grounded and solid.

Like rocks, they've each had their journey, yet seem to have been here all along.  It's only a few steps from the path to the riverbed.  I am drawn toward it, feeling a distinct rightness at being there.  More stones than I could count, but it doesn’t occur to me to count them at all.  In the midst of endless supply, the only number that matters is one.  

It calls.  That smoothest, darkest one.  I answer, pick it up.  It’s cool against my skin, flat and plain and lovely.  I choose a direction, spend the energy, and let it fly.  It will be what it will be.  For a novice like me, I don’t expect it to skip.  But a plunk and a clean splash are satisfying enough that I pick up another.  Another.  No deadline, no metrics, no impositions.  I’ve stepped out of that world to live here, in the green and brown and velvet moss, where the air cleans my lungs and pumps my blood.  I can work in this space, happily, all my days.