And see me, you’ve already formed an opinion.

You took note of how I’m dressed, how I carry myself, what I’m doing in the moment and hundreds of other details that will give bias to your opinion.

You can give me the benefit of the doubt and wait until we start speaking to each other before that opinion is solidified. I can talk endlessly and amicably, but you’re listening to my actions more than my words.

However, you’re taking a mental note of the words I’m saying because the next time you walk into a room and see me—you’re going to compare whether my actions match the first impression.

My words matter less.

Every time we meet, you’re trying to figure one thing out:

Am I the real deal?

Do my actions line up with who I say I am?
Are they consistent?

If they do, we can build a relationship of trust.

If not, I better start acting in a way that lines up with my words, or speaking in a way that actually lines up with my actions.

There was a back road where I grew up that was barely used. It could be classified as a country road and I’m sure I have the same affinity for it as John Denver, but it didn’t actually take me home.

It didn’t take you anywhere.

Really, it was the most inconvenient road to use, but it was fun to drive on.

There was something about it that led you to a place in your mind of true freedom. You were young, free and aimlessly driving.

When people talk about the carefree days of their youth, this is the road that would spark that memory for me:

Summer time, windows down and music cranked.

These memories spark a point in our own minds we want to be taken back to–a time where you wanted for nothing, cared for nothing and had an entire future ahead of you.

Moments of pure bliss without anything weighing on the mind.

It’s a comparison between the responsibilities of life now and what we wanted life to always be. Yet, it’s an illogical tension.

We’re more content now, older, wiser and possibly even happier, but those memories and the specific feelings they evoke are lost. They’re not coming back and they can’t be retrieved.

But, there’s satisfaction in knowing that you touched pure bliss.

Which is why we hunger for them, get glimpses of them and are reminded of them through random triggers. And that has to make us happy.

As Dr. Seuss so eloquently put it:

“Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.”

Do it or don’t do it – you will regret both.

Soren Kierkegaard

Whenever someone tells me they have no regrets because everything that’s happened to them, and every decision they’ve made, made them the person they are today…

I always want to ask:

Did it ever occur to you the person you are today, sucks?

It’s not intended in a mean-spirited way to tear down a person, but a genuine feeling there may have been decisions that would’ve led you somewhere better. I get them all the time.

Yes, life often throws curves our way that are out of our control and we have no choice but to deal with it. But for the big decisions that are truly one hundred percent ours–what if?

This multiple branching decision tree we always wonder about (sometimes called the butterfly effect), is paralyzing. Sometimes, it’s depressing.

To the person who has no regrets, I feel a pang of envy because it’s obvious they’re comfortable with not knowing. In fact, it doesn’t matter.

And they would be right.

It serves no good to regret major decisions because that would assume there was a “better” decision. I’m almost certain that even if we could see the far reaching effects of our choices, it still wouldn’t change anything for us.

It also wouldn’t make those decisions any easier.

As Kierkegaard so aptly put it, you will regret any option you take. And in that regard, we should have no regrets.

I don’t.

Or rather, I don’t pay attention to it.

Let me explain.

As I explained recently, I set high standards for myself. I’m a perpetual, lifelong learner and look towards the long term for where I want to be.

There’s always something for me to work on and practice and while there are a thousand different areas to cover, I take it one piece at a time. Each time I tackle something new, I seek out the advice of a trusted person to help me along the way.

If there’s one thing I learned from being a magician, teacher and writer… somebody will always have something to criticize about you.

In the case of being a magician, it never fails that after a magic show where another magician is in the crowd, they will always offer unsolicited advice. If they don’t, they’re probably bashing you to their friends about things you did wrong (or quickly comparing notes so they can steal your material).

Same with writing.

Almost the same with teaching, but people do it to your face.

It doesn’t matter what you do, what direction you take or how good you are, there’s always somebody out there who will have something to criticize you on.

The operative colloquialism is “haters gonna hate.”

But it goes deeper than that because sometimes people lash out at you because of their own personal shit. There’s something unresolved in their own life and rather than work on it, they’d rather tear you down.

These are people who could see you walk on water and then say the only reason you’re doing that is because you don’t know how to swim.

At the end of the day, this is my craft and my art. I will defend it because it’s the best I could be at the time.

If I go completely off the rails, I have people in place to let me know.

Otherwise, I ignore it.

After all, I don’t want to spend my limited time on the planet worrying about it.

I have better things to do.

In a few weeks, I will be back in the classroom.

While I am excited to be returning and have been diligently preparing for the year ahead, there’s been some serious issues. For starters, the plan on how schools are going to look hasn’t been established…

Because what has been established is changing (and will probably change again).

There’s the potential the material I have prepared so far might not even be relevant as my schedule could change. While frustrating, it does no good for me to vent my frustrations everywhere and anywhere.

I have to look at what I can control.

One of the areas to become comfortable with is life never offers certainties. In fact, the one guarantee is uncertainty (next to death and taxes, of course) and the one area you can control is your reaction to those times.

While the best course of action is to be proactive and prepare for every possible situation, practicing them until they are programmed (much like astronauts preparing for space missions), there are times when you are just jumping in without any direction.

At that point, what you do is try and just solve the problem ahead of you. Don’t look to the multitude of other areas that you will inevitably encounter. Just the one in front of you.

You’ll eventually get to the other ones later.

Jumping in without direction is actually the best course of action I offer new writers. Just start writing because your first problem to solve is sitting your butt down and putting words on paper.

The next problem they will encounter is how to keep writing until it’s finished. Then it’s putting it out there.

Each one has its own myriad of problems that will show up as well.

While the anxiety of the upcoming year creeps up periodically, I look at it as a new challenge with new problems to solve and new ways to grow.

After all, when you solve enough problems, solutions become more evident.

I’ve been journaling for quite some time now. For a while, I was sputtering in the dark about how I should do it and what specific purpose it would serve other than a dumping ground.

I didn’t want to spend entire notebooks solely ranting, but actually find a way to serve some good in my life. I took it a different approach.

There’s just one question I ask myself before I write:

Am I better today than I was yesterday?

It doesn’t have to be by much, but I seriously examine this question. I look at my actions, my thoughts and my words for the day and see if there was something that is moving me towards being the best version of myself.

I’m not striving to be another person, or live their life. Yes, it’s good to have role models (and I stole this idea from the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius), but they serve as guides, not goalposts.

There are thousands of areas in my life to look at and if there’s a day where I can’t claim to have improved in any one of them (and there have been many), I ask why.

What happened?
What can I learn from it?

Every day, I want to end it knowing I was at my best and tomorrow is going to be even better.

After all, it’s hard to regret a life where you’ve consciously given it your all.

Do you want something now, or do you want it for life?

The hyper-marketing of instant gratification sells the instant results, the overnight makeovers and the 30 day programs. Even the YouTube community propagates the effectiveness of a program based on the short term (30 day challenges being the most common).

Companies are the worst offenders as they’re notorious for only thinking of the next quarter.

While there is something to be said about the sprint and the short term gains (they can act as a great motivator), dealing with the long term benefits is a barren wasteland.

Why?

It’s boring. It’s slow. It requires a ton of discipline.

And the biggest one: it’s difficult to see progress happening because of the tiny, incremental gains. You only really see progress when you look at your beginning in hindsight.

However, being on the long-term path allows you to reap the benefits continuously as you’ve committed to it for however long it takes.

The short-term can work, but it’s not sustainable.

The unfortunate part is humans are horrendous for thinking long-term until we feel it’s too late.

That’s why it’s best to start now. Don’t over think or over plan, but adjust as you go. Make a few springs along the way, then get back to the regular program.

It’s not glamorous and it goes unnoticed, but something strange happens—you become the “exception” because of what you did.

Too often we set our expectation to be on point with everyone else, or be slightly above the average.

What we’re really doing is aiming for mediocrity and there’s a few problems with it.

First, our expectation for what the average is happens on a sliding scale. Depending on the strength of the group we are in will determine how far you actually go. I’m a firm believer that you are the result of the five people you hang around with most.

Second, people will rise to your level of expectation. If someone is working way below where they need to be and you set the expectation to the midpoint, you’ve set a glass ceiling for them.

It’s always best to set high expectations. Ridiculously high.

But… and this is important… celebrate every step along the way to getting there.

We tend to approach life from the perspective of a lack.

What are we lacking?
What do we need?
What is missing?

This was useful biological programming when food resources were scarce and predators threatened us in every bush. But then we went ahead and made an entire hierarchy of needs based off that mentality.

The mentality of lacking quickly spirals into an obsession with always wanting more. Marketing preys on this idea and has successfully drilled the message into us that happiness is just one more purchase away.

At some point, however, we need to stop and look at our own lives and ask, where is my abundance?

What do I have in abundance that I couldn’t possibly need any more of and yet, don’t even recognize?

Is it compiling a grocery list with the question of, “What do we need/want?” instead of, “What can we afford?”

Is it trying to schedule visits with family and friends because the calendar is full with people you are visiting and that are visiting you?

Is it looking at your home and planning renovations, rather than looking at your bills and hoping you can stay another month?

If we just ask a few questions every morning of where our abundance is, we may come to realize how little we’re actually lacking.

I have yet to meet a single person who complained enough to change the weather.

I have met many people who complain all the time about it…

“It’s too hot,”
“It’s freezing,”
“Stupid rain,”

Or any other multitude number of observations they turn into gripes. But, I have yet to see the weather change because of said griping.

(Fascinating side note: An academic once suggested to me the reason Canadians seem so united on issues or willing to show compassion to another person is because we all united under a common enemy: the weather. Not sure if they’re right, but it is interesting to think about.)

What does a topic as inconsequential as the weather have to do with anything?

Because there’s just so much in life you have no control over, has little to no impact on you personally, and yet, we attempt to reason, yell, plead or work ourselves up over it.

We let it get to us, delve into our minds and literally let it ruin our days…weeks… sometimes years.

This isn’t to say we shouldn’t fight for change. It means we need to stop worrying about trivial details that we can’t change. Celebrity gossip, for instance, is thrown in our face as if it affects the fabric of the universe.

People yelling at each other on social media?
As long as social media exists, that’s never going away.

Your workplace instituted a new policy based on some fad?
It’ll run its course and be replaced by something else soon enough.

At the end of the day, there are people who complain about bullshit and try to fight it… and there are people who work through it and find another way.

Since you can’t fight it, find another way.