I took a few weeks off from writing in preparation for my 100-hour weeks… only to find that everyone overestimated their needs. The world is weird and I’m just ludacris enough to embrace the audacity. Between three companies and a side gig, I ended up with one week coming in at 27 hours, the next at 25 hours, and the third with just 13 hours. It was quite a contrast to the 300 hours I was expecting. Again, I found the silver lining in those weeks as I reaffirmed that I wasn’t crazy for doubting companies that still make promises they can’t keep. I took more time to think about what I wanted in life and how I wanted this project to proceed. In the midst of things, I turned another year older and also found out my aunt only had a few months to live. I think God knew I needed some downtime even though my mind ached to engage in the pendulum of working and paying bills while not losing sleep. I’ve learned along the way to go with the flow rather than try to fight the currents. I did the best thing I could do – I spent more time on the boat. I certainly wasn’t reaching any new income goals, but the bills were paid and my time was ample.
One of those days found me stumbling into a meeting with some cousins I hadn’t seen in over 10 years. They were in town to see my aunt (their grandmother), so I offered to take them with us to the lake. When they showed up, my aunt was with them. She wanted to go, too. My brain panicked thinking there was no way I could take her at 80 years old on the boat. It was hot, cancer was making her weak, and her balance wasn’t stable enough to get her into a rocking boat. But I looked at her and saw my aunt from 30 years ago. My aunt who loved the water as much as I did. My aunt who was a model before I was ever born. My beautiful aunt who hugged me with every bit of strength she had when she walked in the door. I knew she was thinking this might be her last time on the water. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. I had the honor of giving her one more ride. I was given the blessing of spending time with her before time took away the ability to see her like I always knew her. She was still strong, funny, stubborn, and intent on getting on the water. I wasn’t expecting the challenge, but I was incredibly grateful for the opportunity.
I made sure the cooler had plenty of water and we headed to our favorite little marina. Three of us helped her from the dock to the boat, but I’m almost certain a simple hand would have sufficed. She was much stronger than I anticipated, and she gracefully found her way to her seat just as she would have decades ago. I don’t think the smile ever left her face as we zipped across the wakes, felt the sprays from my deep turns, and did our best to sling everyone off the tube being pulled from the back. She laughed as they flipped in the air, and she roasted them as they made failed attempts to master tricks. I noticed she spent a lot of time watching me drive the boat. Finally, she said, “You never stop smiling when you’re driving this boat.” Something about the sincerity and depth of that sentence will stick with me forever. She was right. It might just be a boat to some people, but to me, it was my ultimate happy place. It was my reminder that I succeeded in life and was able to share that with others. Acquiring the boat was nice, of course, but defining these experiences with everyone was simply unequivocal. I continued to check on her to make sure we weren’t getting too wild with our antics. I made sure she had water and wasn’t too hot. I expected her to stay about 30 minutes, but to my surprise, she was still savoring every moment over 3 hours later. We took a stupid number of pictures and videos – trying to preserve the moment while not making life’s unfairly looming deadline obvious. As we headed back to the dock to give her a rest, she held the towel over my youngest son as he laid on the floor of the boat. Even at a time when she was fragile, she was still taking care of others and making sure they were comfortable. I think all of us knew that this outing was something special – and something we’d likely never get to experience together again. I can’t lie that I didn’t want it to end, but I took my camera and videoed her walking back to the car hand in hand with her grandson. Something in my heart just told me the next time I saw her she’d be much different. I didn’t want her to go… but time is like that. It doesn’t wait, doesn’t give an inch, and doesn’t hold back on its obligations. Five minutes later the dynamics were different – just like the Changing of the Guards. Three people I rarely got to see exited the boat, and my daughter showed up to join those of us that were still there. Everyone now on our boat was healthy, young, and once again blissfully unaware of how short and impactful life can be. In a way, it was a welcome transition to keep my mind from camping out in the lingering circumstances. My daughter hadn’t been on the boat since she had moved back from living 20 hours away. I watched her take videos and pictures of her little brothers as she doted over how much they’d grown and how cute they were as they maneuvered the water like teenagers instead of kids. I continued to drive the boat for another 4 hours as my mind played tug-of-war with being in the present and longing to redo the past just a bit longer.
I came home that night a little wiser, a little sad and nostalgic, immensely happy for the memories, and very aware of where I was in life. Reality kicked in and I knew my brain had been spinning in circles like it does sometimes. Time was getting away from me and the project wasn’t progressing like I intended. I have to refocus my efforts often in life and this was another one of those times. I had gotten so excited about writing as an outlet (and the possibility of this turning into a movie) that I forgot I needed to move forward with my marketing plans. Life doesn’t wait, and I had to get back to pursuing this project as though scriptwriters and movie producers had never crossed my path. After all, I hadn’t even gotten to meet with the writer yet, and there was no guarantee he’d even like my idea. It was time to take things back into my own hands and build my map while God held the lantern over my head. I sat back and realized just how much life had changed over the last year. I had more than doubled my hourly marketing rates, and life had gotten easier and happier without me even realizing it. I no longer needed 100 hours to pay bills. I had spent three weeks working just 65 hours total and I wasn’t struggling at all financially. Why hadn’t I raised my rates earlier in life? Why did I undervalue myself so much? I looked around and realized that the past year was everything I envisioned it to be. It was the year that I began to turn my life in a new direction. I walked into this near year of my birth confidently, acutely aware of my capabilities, and still felt even more humble than I ever had. I had relearned how to feel emotions. I realigned my finances and my time. I let go of any imposter syndrome that had burdened my deepest insecurities. I felt like I had a primal grip on life, my direction, the opportunities within reach, the risks I wanted to take, and a full 360 view of life’s diversity of frangibleness and fortuity. Change is always exciting, but this past year was the start of something completely new for me. This year would be the year I would make things happen and next year would be the year that I started to enjoy the harvest. For tonight, though, there was work to be done and it was time to set this dream on the shelf. I closed the document on this chapter and refocused my efforts on the things that had to be done today.