The How Obsession

by Joey | Apr 28, 2016 | Throwback

I’m a planner. I’m obsessed with knowing the how. And I’ll be honest and tell you that sometimes I get so caught up in the how that I miss the point entirely.

The how doesn’t matter if you aren’t doing. And if you’re like me and get caught up in the how, you’ll know that the how obsession can and will paralyze you.

Because in reality, you can’t always see the whole path. If you’re lucky, you can maybe see a step or two ahead, but that’s it. It’s your faith that the path will lead you to the right place if you just keep doing that matters the most.

Because the how isn’t always up to us. But the what is. Our job is to focus on the what and let the universe come up with the how.

This obsession creeps in every now and again. I’m human and not immune, no one is. I didn’t realize what this actually was, this obsession with the how, until recently. I thought it was writer’s block, but the ideas and desire are there. And then I thought it was fear, but at this point what the hell do I have to be afraid of?

And then I realized that I find myself in the future occasionally, living so many steps ahead that I don’t recognize my surroundings and I can’t find my way back. I can’t see anything clearly, and I’m not immersed in my work, in my words, the part I always recognize, and then the fear creeps in and I run to the nearest corner and hide there until life catches up.

We end up on fast forward sometimes unintentionally. A button accidentally gets pressed, probably triggered by comparison or fear, and before you know it you’ve lost your way.

You have greatness inside of you, but if you get stuck in the planning phase, how will anyone ever see it?

The Importance of Pacing Yourself

by Joey | Apr 27, 2016 | Throwback

But the other day, I took the dog running with me. It was the first time she’d been out with me in almost 10 months, so we took it easy. For the first time since I’d been back at it, I didn’t worry about how fast I was going. I set an easy goal of 1.5 miles but understood we might have to walk some.

Before I knew it, we’d reached our goal. She did great, and I felt great. I could have kept going but didn’t want to push her. We’d go out again another day and go further, all in good time.

As we were walking back into the apartment, it struck me that I was so willing to give her grace but not myself. I was concerned for her well being. I wanted her to enjoy herself, not to push her too hard, too far, too fast. But yet when the signs are clear that I need to take a break, I think I’m weak and push through the feeling.

When I run on my own, I’m obsessed with my pace. I don’t care that I’ve had injuries. I don’t care that I haven’t been consistent for months. If it’s not far and fast, it’s a waste.

Break to Heal

by Joey | Apr 26, 2016 | Throwback

I’ve always been a firm believer in the good. I can’t say I’m an optimist, I think life has weathered me into a bitter human, but I always hold on to hope.

When things start to spiral out of control, life falling apart around me, I can’t help but be filled with a bit of excitement. A wave I’ve ridden before, I know the good always comes after the bad. Always. It may take time. It may come packaged differently than I expect, but it always comes. And it’s always good.

The truth is, in order for change to occur, things have to get jostled. Seals have to be broken. It has to break before it can set. It might hurt a little.


When I was fifteen, I had my appendix removed. When I woke from the anesthesia, I thanked the nurses for helping me but begged them to please make the pain stop.  We had to hurt you, they told me, in order to fix you.

Sometimes I imagine God with a scalpel, cutting us open to fix what’s broken. The pain comes and then somehow, someway, things get better. We heal.


You have to make room for the good in your life, and that often requires you to make a painful, tough decision to let something else go. You have nothing to trust but your instincts, and you’re terrified you’ll make a mistake.

Decide & Do

by Joey | Apr 21, 2016 | Throwback

It seems we are all slotted into a certain category early on in life, and we spend the rest of our lives trying to break free from that box. Because honestly, who likes to be boxed in?

I can no longer be considered a “young adult,” according to the definition offered by the Oxford Dictionary, but I’m still struggling with more than I’m proud to say at this stage of my life. Thirty is staring me in the face, and there is so much that I don’t have a grip on.

I naively created a 30 before 30 list when I was living in the Buies Creek bubble. We didn’t have much money, but I had all the time in the world to dream up dreams and explore my wants. Just two years later, that list would look a lot different.

The fact is, I didn’t think I’d still be in the figuring it out phase of my life at this point. Everything in our lives right now is transitory. I craved the escape from The Football Life to squash the feelings of impermanence, but it turns out the permanent is up to you.


And that’s where the decision fatigue sets in. What do you want people ask, and now the answer has to be much more practical, not a childhood fantasy of wishes. And while my wants are simple, the mistakes that litter our path seem impossible to surmount.

It’s in moments like these when the desire to make radical changes reminds me that everything starts with just one step at a time.

I’m standing on Start, spinning in a circle, incapable of making the choice of where to set my foot down first. What if I choose wrong? What if I make a mistake?

Mistakes these days don’t just leave someone with hurt feelings, remedied by a simple apology and an offer for a sleepover, they can alter your path.


But in the end, as Kathleen Shannon so profoundly stated, your path is your path mistakes and all. And while I can look back and pinpoint certain decisions that I may regret, they didn’t knock me off my path completely, they simply weighed me down, making the hike more exhausting.

Lonely Days Are Gone, I’ma Goin’ Home

by Joey | Apr 20, 2016 | Throwback

There’s an emptiness. An un-wholeness. A sense of brokenness. It sits inside my heart, and I can’t be sure if it’ll ever go away. It’s not a sadness, exactly, though I am sad. It’s more the revelation that things won’t ever be the same ever again.

There’s a sick feeling that fills the pit of my stomach whenever that thought washes over me, which lately has been often. I feel weird and torn, like my world should be upside down and yet I still wake up every day. I still function, and I don’t know how things just fall back into their rhythm as if nothing happened at all.

But the truth is, the world keeps turning, and we have to find a way to spin with it, even when nothing feels right at all.

This might sound foolish, but I thought I’d be okay. I thought I understood what it would be like, and I thought I was prepared. My dad was sick. I was prepared, so I thought, to lose him. But what I wasn’t prepared for was the shift that would take place in my family.

We’ve suffered loss before, but this time the axis on which my family rotated broke, and now we’re faced with things I wasn’t expecting, things I’m not sure I’m ready for.

The youngest, I’ve always felt a bit stunted, like I’d never be a real, true adult. There’s something about having older siblings who will have always done everything first that solidifies that role. A pecking order, my mom always called it. I would always be in last place. But nothing rockets you into adulthood, youngest or not, like losing a parent. For once, we’re experiencing it all together at the same time. And the truth is, I’m not sure any of us know the best way to cope except to just keep moving forward, wherever forward is.

I’m not just grieving the loss of my father, I’m grieving my family as I knew it my whole life. We’re all experiencing a bit of a redefinition. Our roles are shifting, changing, and if I’m honest, I don’t think any of us were ready for that. You think you’ll get to be a kid your whole life, as foolish as that may be. But suddenly, reality smacks you in the face and you’re doing things you never saw yourself doing.

The good news is, you adapt. Faced with challenges our whole life, we’re all resilient, for that I am thankful. And as crazy as it once was, seven lives under the same roof, there’s a strength in numbers when you need it the most.