Tag: Journaling

  • Jumbo-Tron

    I attended the Lady Gators basketball game against Mississippi State, and it was an electrifying finish that ended with a buzzer-beater. The crowd erupted into cheers, and everyone was on their feet.

    The game was entertaining, especially since we were seated right on the sideline behind the west hoop. This gave us a perfect view of the Mississippi State bench and their coaching staff, adding to the intensity of the experience.

    One of my biggest takeaways from the game was observing the fans’ reactions when they appeared on the jumbo-tron. It’s fascinating to watch the sequence unfold. The camera typically zooms in on someone, and as soon as they notice, they point to their neighbor and tap them on the shoulder, signaling to look up. The neighbor’s reaction is priceless—eyes widen in surprise, followed by a big smile, applause, and spontaneous laughter. Then a quick search for the camera operator, as if they’ve just experienced a fleeting moment of fame among the crowd. It’s a heartwarming sight that always brings a smile to my face, and I can’t help but eagerly wait for my own moment on that screen!

  • Dulac

    I discovered Germaine Dulac’s work after watching La Souriante Madame Beudet last night, and I’m fascinated. This 1923 French Impressionist silent film left a poignant impression with its portrayal of a troubled marriage. The symbolic elements throughout the flick sparked my curiosity about Dulac’s cinematic style.  The mise-en-scène, along with the juxtaposition of the visual and narrative elements, transformed the film into a vivid exploration of the protagonist’s inner world—her daydreams and her quiet despair. The powerful closing scene encapsulates the disillusioned continuance of the marriage with the haunting line “United by Habit.”

  • Different Approach

    I’m reaching out to share that I’m shifting my perspective. I’ve realized that my words have been filled with negativity, often reflecting my frustration with the situations in life. But I’ve come to understand that it’s not what happens to us, but how we respond, that shapes who we become. I choose to embrace a more stoic approach, accepting life as it is while focusing on growth through challenges. While I may never fully make sense of everything, I’m determined to keep trying, as no one really has all the answers. What matters to me now is making the most of my existence—overcoming challenges but also transforming them into something positive, a source of light to uplift those around me. I want to bring joy, make a positive impact, and connect with you in a meaningful way. Above all, I want you to truly understand me.

  • Final Stages

    Today, during my lunch break, I called Robin. I’m not entirely sure if it’s spelled “Robin” or “Robyn,” but she’s mom’s hospice case nurse.

    Yesterday as I was flying back to Florida from Southern New Mexico, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we might be missing something. “Maybe there’s some treatment we haven’t explored yet, or perhaps there’s a reasonable explanation for this whole situation that I just haven’t grasped.” I thought.

    I didn’t arrange for hospice care—my brother did that when he was still speaking to us. But after the transition, he stopped communicating with either me or my father. I don’t even know how it went from a memory care facility to hospice care. I always thought hospice was just for the very end, but I’ve since learned it’s about making someone with a terminal illness as comfortable as possible and can go on for over a year.

    Over the weekend, while I was caring for mom and giving dad a break, it felt like we were just giving up. It didn’t seem like we were doing anything to help her—it was just about managing pain and trying to calm her agitation.

    Today, during my lunch break, I called Robyn. I needed to hear directly from someone who could give me a clear answer. I asked her, “Is there no hope? Can we not try anything else?”

    She was kind but firm. “Your mom is in the final stages of dementia.” She read through a list of evaluation metrics that would classify her under the hospice treatment. Can she do this..…… Can she do that……… Does she know……… all answers were “No.”

    “I know it’s hard.” Robin said. 

    As I reflect this certainly progressed quickly—what was Stage 3 is now Stage 6, all in less than a year. “We’re doing everything we can to keep her comfortable.” Robyn said.

    I sat with that for a moment. “Ok” I told her. “Thank you.” I think I just needed to hear it out loud from a reliable source.

    As I sit here reflecting, a part of me—the part that’s always been relentless or perhaps just stubborn—refuses to believe this is the end. Maybe I’m in denial, and I just don’t want to accept it.

    This weekend, while sitting next to mom in a rare moment of stillness, she turned to me and asked, “You’re not scared of anything, are you?”

    I replied, “No, mom. I’m not. Are you?”

    She paused and simply said, “No.”

  • 42

    Today, I’ve reached 42. I’m filled with gratitude, as not everyone is fortunate enough to make it this far, and in decent health too. This year has been a tough one, watching both myself and those around me age. As time passes, I find myself longing for youthfulness, vitality, and longevity. If there’s one thing I truly struggle with, it’s the process of aging.

    While my cognitive abilities remain sharp, family members have become forgetful of things—like my birthday. I’ve also started spotting some white hairs on my scalp, thankfully there is an easy solution for that as I’ll continue to mask them with dye as long as I can. Thankfully there are not many wrinkles yet, and I’ll work to stave those off with whatever measures possible.

    Some health metrics are beginning to show signs of decline, as expected, but I remain committed to attempting to eat well and staying active. I’m especially thankful that I can still run—it’s my stress reliever and my key to staying vibrant for years to come.

    Here’s to another year, filled with hope and the potential for more life ahead.

  • Conquering Heights: Facing My Fear at 257 Feet

    Today at work, I needed to rely on my teammate to be my guide as I scaled up to 257 feet of the tower. The change came gradually, but I now experience a sense of vertigo whenever I climb an open grid metal stairwell where I can see hundreds of feet beneath me.

     At times the fear creeps in as I tilt my head down, and I worry that I might black out from the sensation. It was my turn to scale up for safety checks, but there I stood, questioning what had shifted within me as I faced this fear.

    Looking down from 257 feet in an industrial setting, I peered through the platform levels, my gaze passing over scaffolding, air cannons, and machinery. Despite the surroundings, the beauty of the sunset overhead was undeniable.

    There were three stages of observation, and although I had the confidence to face them, I felt the familiar wariness creeping in as I made my way up the tower.

    “Be strong,” I reminded myself as I climbed up an 8 ft. ladder toward the second observation point, between two levels, at 200 feet above the ground. From this height, everything at ground level appeared minuscule—yet, the vast view of Florida’s trees and a pristine blue lake to the west, untouched by the industrial environment, felt strangely calming.

    When I finished the tasks and descended, I left work feeling a sense of accomplishment, having conquered one of my biggest fears of the day. What made it even easier to face was knowing I had a reliable teammate by my side, ready to act in case anything went wrong.

  • Finding Meaning Through Random Encounters

    “Excuse me, what book is that?” A man pointed at the paperback tucked under my arm as I sipped my hot grande caramel macchiato and browsed through Moleskine journals.

    “Oh, it’s Infinite Possibilities,” I replied.

    “May I take a look?” he asked.

    “Certainly.” I said, handing it over.

    As he flipped through the pages, I couldn’t help but wonder about his intentions. I’m a regular at Barnes & Noble, but no one had ever approached me for a conversation before. Could this be one of those movie moments where a guy strikes up a chat, hoping to get a girl’s number? I doubted it—He must notice that I’m much older than he is, and I certainly wasn’t dressed to impress. Still, the thought lingered.

    It was just past 5:45 p.m., nearing the 6 pm closing time on New Year’s Eve.

    “Mike Dooley, I’ve never heard of him,” he said.

    “I think he was on Mel Robbins’ latest podcast,” I responded.

    I later realized I was wrong—it was a neuroscientist with the last name of Dotty, not Dooley, who had been on the episode.

    The young man, casually dressed in a blue sweater, button-down shirt, and slacks, seemed to know about Mel Robbins. He mentioned reading about her 5 Second Rule, and we quickly found common ground, exchanging titles of self-help books which lead to discussing our professions.

    At this point, I still wasn’t sure what his intentions were, but the conversation was pleasant and easy. He talked about building wealth with his wife, and they now had intentions to focus on giving back to others.

    “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “after you’ve amassed riches and achieved your desires, it’s all about giving back.”

    Interesting, I thought. Was this some sign, divine intervention? Could this be the serendipitous answer I’d been seeking? Maybe this was the direction I needed for 2025.

    “Contributions,” I said, feeling a spark of realization.

    “Exactly!” he replied.

    We ended our conversation with a warm exchange of “Happy New Year” and “Take care.” I returned to browsing the journals, still reflecting on the strange nature of our encounter. These unexpected moments often seem to appear when I’m actively seeking spiritual guidance

    As I waited in line at the register, I watched the man walk out the front entrance, empty-handed.

  • Embracing Solitude During My Commute

    I’ve been making the two-hour commute this month and have found that I enjoy the solitude in the morning, speeding past semi-trailers and staying in the fast lane. I know when right-lane traffic will transition to the center lane at each merging freeway entrance. I listen to podcasts and catch up on lectures, taking full advantage of the solitude. By the end of the week, I feel tired, but it’s a good tired.

    As January approaches, I’m excited about the possibilities…. Should I find another apartment, purchase a home, continue the two-hour commute, or explore new opportunities? I’m not sure yet, but I look forward to seeing what the future holds…… We shall see!

  • Travel Day Breakdown: My Journey Begins at 3:30 AM

    I’m excited for tomorrow’s adventure-packed day of travel! Here’s the plan: a bright and early 3:30am wake-up, followed by a 4am exit to kick off an unforgettable journey. With a scenic 2-hour drive south, I’ll board a plane for a 6-hour flight, then switch planes for another exciting 6-hour journey. Finally, I’ll arrive at my destination, ready for new experiences!

  • Innovation Engineering

    I was asked to write about what I learned during my Innovation Engineering Training

    What did I learn?

    I learned that innovation is not just a trait but a skill that can be developed through specific tools and techniques. I discovered that innovative solutions often arise from diverse thinking approaches, followed by idea generation that sparks creative energy.

    Yet, innovation doesn’t guarantee adoption by customers or immunity from criticism. An idea must be carefully analyzed, measured, and assigned a value to assess if it’s worth pursuing in the long term.

    Innovation engineering seems intuitive, but it’s not the approach most people naturally take. Often, the systems are broken, yet we continue using them simply because they’ve been in place for so long. We feel that, as part of the framework, we can’t make a difference, or that change is impossible because it’s always been done that way.

    Innovation is the key to meaningful change. It’s a skill that can help organizations and life in general.

    To truly make an impact, we must become disruptors —individuals who think differently, challenge the status quo, and constantly seek improvement.