Month: May 2016

The Everyday Evolution

I don’t like change.

That’s a bit of an odd statement from someone who relocated three times in a seven-year span, but one filled with truth.

Some people get a rush from a constant stream of new adventures; I’m more comfortable with the tried-and-true routine.

But life doesn’t care about my comfort zone. My own biology doesn’t care about my comfort zone. And, to a certain extent, my mind doesn’t care about my comfort zone.

So I’ve made some big changes. My address, time zone, employer, career, sleep schedule and hobbies have all transformed in the past decade. To a certain degree, my temperament has too — I’ve come to embrace my introverted nature without becoming a hermit, come to embrace the serenity of silence at certain points during the week and come to find a balance between the times when I’m locked in and kicking back.

But most of these changes have been reactive. I had to adapt in order to play the hand I’d been dealt, regardless of how I ended up at the table in the first place. And a reactional change is more about self-preservation than self-improvement.

There ain’t much shame in survival, according to Darwin. (The Donner Party notwithstanding.) But there’s little to be gained from it.

So in the past year, I’ve pivoted. I’ve decided to make change a proactive part of my life.

It started with a reactive decision. Noticing that my wallet was empty but my fridge was full of beer one evening, I decided to cut beer from my grocery list — for good. Suddenly, another thought popped in my head, unprovoked: While I’m at it, why don’t I also commit to eating out less often?

Soon, I was bringing my lunch to work 4 days a week, and preparing meals at home every weeknight. Not coincidentally, I gradually stopped eating all fast food.

Next up was Dr Pepper. I quit that — and all other soft drinks — cold turkey about 8 months ago, followed by other sugary drinks like sweet tea, protein shakes and Gatorade. Eventually, I purged sugar itself — aside from the occasional donut at the office or slice of pecan pie at a restaurant.

At the same time, I increased my workout load, committed to taking multi-mile walks on weekends and even added fruit and vegetables to my diet.

And food wasn’t the only part of my life that changed. I cut back on traveling, going to sporting events, shopping and other thrill-seeking events — committing much of that time and energy toward initiatives like Words of the West, fitness, cooking and self-education.

A lot of wholesale change, all inspired by one choice to stop buying beer.

Now, you might think that replacing so many things I like with those that I was once ambivalent to would be a soul-crushing experience. But you would be dead wrong.

I feel better than I ever have. I’m lighter, stronger and more energized.

Why? Because I haven’t changed. I’ve evolved.

The changes I’ve made have rekindled old interests — such as the art of cooking — and inspired new ones, like an active lifestyle. Swapping out old habits for new ones allows me to continue my drive for self-improvement, while maintaining the balance of routine.

This evolution is ongoing. I’m sure as the weeks, months and years go by, I will keep proactively finding ways to make my life healthier, more productive and more efficient.

You can do this too. If you’re on the fence about making changes in your life, get at it!

Evolution is an everyday process. Grab the bull by the horns and let it ride!

The Essence of Texas

I am a proud Texan. I drink my coffee from a Come and Take It mug, have a Lone Star flag emblem on the back of my SUV and care about March 2nd more than y’all do. Texas soil is sacred to me, and I consider it an honor to live on top of it.

But I’m not a native Texan. Far from it.

So how does someone who spends his childhood more than a thousand miles from the banks of the Red River identify with the land that lies between it and the Rio Grande? Safe to say, this uniquely authentic place has captivated me like none other.

And I’m not alone. Over the years, I’ve gotten dozens of non-Texans addicted to Torchys Tacos. My barbeque brisket has gotten such rave reviews up north that it’s become a holiday tradition. And I’ve been promised return visits from out-of-state family and friends who were pleasantly surprised by how much they enjoyed their time here. Yes, I’m sure my presence has something to do with it, but the unique aura of Texas has had some effect.

But my enveloping connection with Texas goes much deeper than exposure to good food, warm weather and Lone Star charm. Being a Texan has as much to do with the way you live your life as where you live it.

Values are everything in Texas. Doing the right thing matters here, and that includes treating others the right way. This is a breath of fresh air in a world that seems to glorify self-aggrandizement, entitlement, indulgence and misbehavior. Texas hospitality is relic of a more decent time, one which has been sustained into a more advanced and inclusive era.

Of course, Texan values are about more than how you treat others. They’re also about standing up for yourself. It’s a doctrine that found its roots within the walls of the Alamo, and is rooted within the souls of Texans today.

Don’t Mess With Texas is more than just a hollow saying, as Jose Bautista recently found out. (It should be noted that the source of that right hook — Venezuela native Rougned Odor — has quickly ascended to the status of Texan for his very public display of this value.) While violence is not encouraged, standing up for oneself most certainly is.

This complex mix of values serves the backbone of the collective spirit known as Texanism. We are proud to be Texans; by and large, we see no shame in publicizing that.

This is not always an easy concept for others to grasp. A recent New York Times article — written by a Texas resident who grew up in California — passed off Texanism as a regional, commercialized resistance to America’s rapidly evolving culture. I couldn’t disagree more.

Texanism is quite authentic; it’s a tacit solidarity embedded within the souls of those who do right by each other and stand up for themselves. Texanism not about resisting change; it’s about respectfully and gracefully accepting it without sacrificing our identity.

This is what makes Texas uniquely special, this compromise between new ideals and time-honored traditions. Openness is demanded, but heritage is still protected. Independence is lauded but respect is expected. Standing up for yourself is on equal footing with looking out for others. And morality is both a personal and collective responsibility.

Ultimately, the essence of Texas is finding balance in ideals — a concept I believe quite strongly in.

This is why Texas is a part of me. And I’m a part of it.

I am a Texan. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Living Unbridled

Nothing quite compares to the feeling you get riding a horse.

That sense of freedom hits you like the wind in your face as the majestic animal gallops across the prairie. There are no panels of sheet metal, glass windows or floorboards separating you from that feeling, from the sight of the landscape around you flying by under the power of thundering hooves — just your feet in the stirrups and your hands on the reins.

It’s an exhilarating, incomparable feeling. And while it’s been close to a decade since I last saddled up, it’s a feeling firmly rooted in my soul.

But life in the saddle is about more than just a spiritual destination. It’s about a journey to a different perspective.

It’s about the bond between man and horse.

***

In the days before industrialization transformed the world, a horse was a necessity. The fastest way to get from Point A to Point B was on saddleback.

But the connection between a mounted rider and his noble steed was made of more than just necessity. It was about trust — a mutual understanding built between man and domesticated beast through care and compassion.

This bond brought out the softer and more nurturing side of men, at a time when such aspects were otherwise frowned upon — especially in the American West. Men were expected to be as tough as iron in that era, but such behavior in the saddle would literally drive a horse into the ground. As such, men put a great deal of personal devotion into their primary mode of transport.

(Of course, the bond between woman and horse has always been equally strong — if you don’t believe me, head to the rodeo and check out the barrel racing competition.)

***

With the advent of the railroad, everything changed. Transportation was quickly depersonalized and commoditized, transformed into “churn and burn.” Many innovations that came after the “Iron Horse” followed the same pattern. Gradually, our softer side went from being a need-to-have to a nice-to-have.

Now, these technological changes have improved our lives, for sure. But it is a bit disconcerting to see how effortlessly they took compassion and chivalry out of our everyday routines. It’s a missing element that is evident each time we see a video of someone callously pushing people out of the way to catch a train or recklessly screaming at a flight attendant.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

It’s about time we care about the journey as much as the destination. Good manners and a caring heart should be more common and reliable than the technology we use to make our lives effortless — unlike our cars, these traits won’t break down after years of continual use.

We are all on a journey through life together. The more compassion we show towards those around us, the more trust will be built. And the better we’ll be for it.

It’s time to start living unbridled.

Challenge Or Opportunity?

My life mantra has long been: Accept the Challenge. Embrace the Process.

It’s something I live and breathe every day. It’s exemplified the winding, often difficult path I’ve taken to get here; just as importantly, it keeps me focused and driven as I turn my sights toward the road ahead.

I don’t keep the word challenge in the forefront my mind because I’m a grinder, because I like to do things the hard way. If that were the case, I’d ride bulls around the southwestern circuit for a living, or do something similarly gritty.

No, challenge is rooted in my everyday consciousness because I’m a thinker. Adversity is never comfortable, but it can be beneficial. The key is to view the situation in the right frame of mind, and build off it.

Ultimately, it comes down to this:

Where some see a challenge, I see an opportunity.

A challenge is an opportunity to learn and to grow. But it’s also an opportunity to improvise and adapt — which can help us evolve into more well-rounded, resourceful people.

This distinction is important, because challenges are all around us. The major roadblocks in the course of our lives are, of course, well documented. But those less apparent situations that force us to innovate can often be just as significant.

For example, I’ve explained at length how I love to cook. Cooking is a challenge in itself — I’m sure even world-class chefs might agree with that statement — but cooking in an apartment provides an extra degree of difficulty. Add in my health issues regarding dairy, and suddenly an ocean of culinary possibilities is whittled down to a Bayou stream.

Do I run from this adverse situation — all the way to the nearest McDonalds? Not a chance. Instead, I accept the challenge. I improvise to make up for the lack of counter space and gourmet gadgets — making do with the rudimentary range and oven I’ve been provided. I find alternative methods of cooking burgers and hot dogs in the kitchen to compensate for my lack of patio space for grilling. I even have with my own recipe for making barbeque brisket indoors without a smoker.

Where some might have seen a significant challenge in my culinary arrangement, I saw an opportunity. And through this process of situational innovation, a funny thing has happened — I’ve become a better, more well-rounded cook.

This is why it’s important to look at adverse situations not as a fight-or-flight ultimatum, but instead as an innovate and evolve moment. There’s so much to gain from this perspective, and so little to risk.

So accept the challenge. It just might be your next great opportunity.