Live like Dan

The reality of Dan’s death is just sinking in. A week ago, I made the trip south to visit with this dear family and Dan’s friends. The spontaneous conversations. The stories, oh the stories. I listened and smiled. The stories weren’t about Dan; they were about the way Dan lived life, times Dan did something that made life better for someone else. The people there to honor him knew Dan as a teacher, principal, superintendent, golf buddy, mentor. I knew Dan as a 4-H dad and granddad. I was lucky, but the Price family always made me feel like I won the lottery.

I think many of us will feel lost for a bit. May I suggest in our “lostness,” we honor Dan’s memory by living like Dan lived.

1. Help others find their passion and potential.
Dan encouraged others to take a risk, to take the next step that would elevate their life journey. Whether it was work on an advanced degree or apply for a job, Dan put others on the path they hadn’t seen themselves taking, then supported them through the process. Dan saw the superfantastic part in each of us, and reminded us of it when we had forgotten it.

2. Get your hands dirty.
Dan could have dictated tasks from above, but more often, if there was dirty work to be done, Dan would be just as deep in it as us. By example, Dan taught us: there are no shortcuts; life is not easy; do it the right way the first time; work harder than you want; get out of bed and get the job done yourself; don’t ask others what you can do yourself.

3. Walk your own walk.
He did have a unique gait. I don’t know if it was always that way, but his walk was his for as long as I knew him. None of his best friends even attempted to mimic it in their farewell speeches. It was his, alone. We all have those things which separate us, define us. You can try to hide it or live in it fully. Dan chose his walk.

4. Put family first.
You didn’t have to wonder what mattered to Dan. Family came first. Always. And, putting family first meant being physically present in the lives of his children and grandchildren. It didn’t happen by accident; goodness never does. Dan made a deliberate choice every day to be the man his family needed.

5. Be loyal to something.
Dan was a Cardinals fan, and he wasn’t bashful about it. To live like Dan means to go all in, through good and bad, in sunshine and rain, whether it’s easy or hard. Commit to something and defend it every chance you get. If Dan ever doubted he could get a new grade school built or a new gym floor, you never saw it in his face or by his actions. His gambles were never gambles; they were sure bets.

6. Stop complaining.
Really. Stop. You can’t be “superfantastic” while complaining. Dan’s legacy will be the inspiration he gave us all to let a positive attitude guide our daily walk. It wasn’t a catch phrase or marketing gimmick to Dan, it was a philosophy of how he chose to live his life … and we all were the beneficiaries of his light.

Go out there. Face the day. Be someone else’s Dan, and live your life with meaning and purpose and joy.

You crossed the line

Those who know me well know that I go a long way for others, but there comes a time when you cross a line that you can’t come back from. You’ll always be on the other side of the line to me. Always. Maybe that makes me a small person. Maybe. And if that’s true, I guess I’ll live with being small-minded. But just maybe getting to that line took so much out of me, that I dare not let you back in.

When you charge batteries, you keep like-charged batteries together; you never just replace one … even though it’s tempting and it keeps the flashlight going at half the cost. Why? …  the lower-charged battery SUCKS THE ENERGY out of the good battery. It just can’t keep up always providing the energy in the partnership and carrying the load, so it soon loses its charge… faster than if it had been teamed with a battery of similar juice. You might be tempted to fault the new battery that lost its charge faster than you thought it should, (or lost its patience) when the cause is really the damn old battery that isn't trying to do its share.

I’ve drawn my line… my personal boundary … my space. I won’t let you back across. You are a dead battery to me.

Sunny-side up kind of life

I needed a change. Drastic change. The only thing that needed to change was how I looked at things. So, for about a week now, when asked, I've replied I'm having a 'sunny-side up' kind of day. In my mind, I'm a big ole fun, bright yellow egg yoke, smiling up at the world... in a sea of white, perfectly round, solid. (stay with me, it gets better) So, today, someone poked a fork in my big ole happy egg yolk, broke my smile and beat the crap out of it. (i told you) I fretted for a bit, then slowly scooped as much of the yolk back into a pile in the middle of my egg, and went on with my day. Sure, it's a little sloppy. Life gets messy, after all. A life well lived, sunny-side up. (Because you needed this as much as I did.)

Calling it even

“Come Friday, we’re even.”

I had called the man years ago looking for a job. The man had worked for years and years at his job, and though the hours were often long (well over 40 hours) and the pay was not good, he continued to pick up his pay check each Friday and considered his account even.

Square.

Paid in full.

No matter how difficult the task had been, in his mind, the check he received at the end of the week covered the debt. Each week, he marked the account paid in full and moved on.

Do you?

Or, do you, like me at times, look at your compensation for a job well done and complain that it isn’t enough, complain that you aren’t appreciated more, complain that the task was more than expected, complain that the glory doesn’t equal the effort?

To make matter worse, each week we keep carrying that balance forward, adding a little more to the “what’s owed us” column.

We will never be paid what we think we’re worth. We can never be appreciated to the extent we think we should. Friends will never be as loving as we think they should. Traffic will never go as fast as we think it needs to.

Peace of mind can only come when we change what we think . . .

. . . when we get to the end of the week and mark it even;

. . . when we get to the end of the day and balance the books with our friends and family;  

. . . when we realize that give and take sometimes means giving more and taking less.

And when you’re okay with that, you’re finally okay with everything.

PHOTO: so why Jenny Mae? Because I don't know anyone who lives this philosophy more than she does. This is a photo of her after the Chicago Marathon... 26.2 miles and still smiling, regardless the finish, regardless the time. Every day she accepts what life gives her and calls it even.