With all that’s going on these days, I’m not entirely convinced the question is whether we are all indeed equal, but rather, do we actually want and aspire to be?

Hear me out.

We publicly and politically abhor practices that promote differentiation between people while at the same time, behind the scenes, we’re actively differentiating ourselves from one another, climbing ladders from lower rungs onto those higher, more distinguished or better regarded by society.

Like it or not, more measures of success in American culture still lie squarely in the value of being better than, with little to no reward for being equal to. Not better intrinsically but positionally.

The drive to accomplish crosses race, sex and all other classifications.

Those less successful at the climb remain underfoot to the more accomplished climbers in society compelled to prove it with better titles, money, power and prestige afforded by the gains of distance in their earned position from where they once began.

Chances that the efforts of the two groups ever meeting are continually reduced and subsequently, lines between the two become greater and more clearly defined.

Maybe what we really need is a better means of measuring achievement not in light of being relative to that of another, then to inspire, educate, and equip people solely to be better climbers for reasons of personal growth.

Equality may be less about the height attained but more about progress made from where each begins his own journey

I write of things which are often not said

Of important dilemmas still left in my head

To wake up others left when I turn up dead

I just want to leave something behind.

A whole book of stories from over the years

of people and places and things I hold dear

in hopes some will listen and might even hear

As I try to leave something behind.

But finding good news in this day and age

When i do, I write, but it falls off the page

Far into the place where good news is caged,

When I was just trying to leave something behind.

In the end, some days are just mediocre.

You may say you gave it your best, but deep down you know it wasn’t.

You could have done more or done better, but the net result was that it was just ‘okay’ enough to get the job done and, to your credit, it’s still likely more than most would do.

Settling on some point between sensational and satisfactory is dysphoric for truly exceptional performers. Despite rationalizing about how insanely too busy you were to give it your everything, the day ended leaving you wondering “maybe there’s a better way” so you don’t risk that gradual spiraling trajectory down to a “just okay” standard as concession to accomplish all you must.

This dilemma is everyone’s and the case for pretty much everything noble to which we set our minds and passions. Enter zealous with good intentions…exit disappointed with less than enthusiastic results.

It’s human to be a critic of what you missed and human to also miss critical parts of what you did well.

Mediocrity is neither aspiration nor inspiration, but sometimes, it just is. And without a few of life’s mediocre moments, our shining ones wouldn’t look so shiny.

Over the years, so many products and people have offered promises to completely change my life, by now I should rightfully be only a shell of the man I once was.

However, the only thing I’ve found to be 100% effective in creating lasting change is free and comes with a five star rating and billions of evidence-based reviews: the life in Christ for which I’ve since become an enthusiastic ambassador.

If you want real and lasting change, settle for nothing less.

It was two years ago today I bought my final resting place, the humble home in which I’ll live until I die.

After giving away 90% of everything I owned, and spending another $40/sq ft in renovations, I find I’m no happier than when I began.

But I am free to be content to focus on the remainder of my days and who I want to spend them with.

My kids, grandkids and a few choice friends and family prove that whether it’s possessions or people, less is always more.

The morning after is when the truth hurts most of all.

Purpose of this story aside, last night I truly had the best time I’ve had all year.

All my favorite friends from the past 50 years gathered for a party celebrating 40 years of marriage with a couple dear to us all.

I don’t drink coffee at 5pm for just anyone. But this group, this night was gonna be worth every lasting moment. If any night past my strict 7pm bedtime called for staying power, this one was gonna be it.

So much history.

So many years.

All the memories except 10 years right smack dab in the middle that I missed altogether. Lost forever to now long awkward silences in recollective conversations because you simply weren’t there.

930pm now, I’m home awake from the coffee and pissed I missed all those 10 years.

If you’ve never done a chunk of time in prison or on drugs away from family and friends and all that’s sane and normal, you may not relate but be thankful for it. But whether forced or chosen, that time separated from those you know and love is full of history and experiences you can neither share nor recover.

I first realized this with my family at holidays since where they all laughed recalling memories and inside jokes about which I was and am still clueless.

Last night the same phenomenon happened with friends whose full histories I should know but stopped cold around Y2K on a long downhill slide.

Even now, decades later, experiences like these illustrate the way I am and who I’ve become. Everything is being made clearer and it’s a little sad and a lot less nostalgic than I’d hoped.

Regardless, it was a lot of fun and so good to be welcomed within that crowd again.

Life is one long lesson about how love for friends and family is always the best choice to make and events along the way to remind you of it, even if it took a decade to come back to your senses.