Writing Something is Better Than Writing Nothing, I guess…

I must be old.

It’s Saturday and the first day of my two-week vacation, and I can’t sleep beyond 6:15am.

I can’t remember the last time I made it to my morning alarm. I fall asleep quick, sleep soundly, then wake up with the birds. Whoever is playing The Sims with me flipped bedtime automation mode to ON. My eyes start watering and my brain starts melting at precisely 10:47pm. Once my head hits the pillow, my legs kick a few times, then I’m gone for the next 6-7 hours.  Like clockwork. After 42 years my body is dialed in.

I’ll take that as a good thing.

It’s raining this morning. The house is quiet. Even the dog didn’t want to wake up. Miraculously, there’s no baseball or theater rehearsal for the kids today. I have my coffee, and I’m alone with my thoughts while I wait for the world to catch up.

As my consciousness resurfaces after a night away, I can feel those thoughts coagulating. Figuring out which thought to write about is like picking a horse to win the Kentucky Derby––just pick a random one and hope it’s a winner.

I could write about my upcoming trip to El Salvador. The last time I organized and lead a mission trip for high school students was 2011 in Philadelphia. It’s been 15 years! Taking six teens out of the country has me feeling a certain way. Like… old frontier/new frontier or something.

I could write about my experience as the interim student ministry director at Ginghamsburg over the last year. How did that even happen? It was an odd case of me just being me. Equally draining and fulfilling. A nice break from the norm, and disruptive enough to ponder a recalibration of my calling.

I could write about my upcoming career milestone of 20 years of service at Ginghamsburg Church. That doesn’t happen much at Ginghamsburg. There’s grief to process after seeing hundreds of staff come and go. I could work through the rise and fall of my confidence over the years. I could speak candidly about the impact of transitions in leadership and the strange segregation between clergy, staff and congregation.

I could write about changes in the design industry, and the rising onslaught of AI and automation. What used to take 40 hours a week 20 years ago takes 30 minutes today. I am not joking. Technology is advancing faster than I can create to-do lists. Efficiency is creating too much capacity. As I work to fill the hours, I feel increasingly fragmented and overwhelmed. Somehow, AI taking my job is creating more work? I’m re-evaluating my relationship with work in general. Could a 3-day work week be considered full-time? How quickly can I gain financial independence so I don’t have to worry about generating income as an artist? At a non-profit? Will my seat last another 20 years?

I could write about my failing attempts to be more healthy. At my best, I eat veggies for breakfast up to four times a week. Red pepper, shallot, zucchini, kale and eggs. Sometimes some sweet potatoes. Sometimes some avocado. Sometimes some black beans. I need fiber. I know I need fiber. And I am trying so hard. I also play basketball once a week, but I know it’s not enough. The older I get, the harder I need to work––but the less energy I have in the tank to do it. I’m at my heaviest, and my hygiene has slipped, too. I feel weird about all this.

I could write about basketball. I feel like Ginghamsburg’s part time recreational director. I started tracking attendance at open gym back in December. In the last 6 months, we’ve seen 96 guys come through. One of those guys is trying to start a non-profit to help underprivileged kids gain access to opportunities through sports. I’m on his non-profit advisory board. Another guy wants me to field a team to participate in monthly basketball events in Sidney. Other guys want me to start and run a league at the Avenue. I just want to exercise. What the heck.

I could write about my side hustles! I’m dabbling in stock photography. I have 36 images in Adobe’s stock library, which have generated close to…$6 in sales. Blog subscriptions are net zero after what I owe squarespace for hosting. I’ve offered to recreate the 2028 Taste of Tipp logo for free. I’m a better designer than I was 15 years ago, but I can’t charge as much as I used to if I actually want steady side income flow. I think I want community influence more than I want dollars. I’m considering new strategic partnerships.

I could write about my growing connection to the United Methodist Association of Communicators. I’ve won 8 design awards from that association in two years. I suspect the talent pool isn’t that deep. I want to raise quality standards across the denomination. I feel behind where we used to be at Ginghamsburg, but still very far ahead of the rest of our UMC connection. Processing, processing, processing…

I could write about how I’m journaling less. How I’m reading the Bible less. How I’m taking less photos and making fewer candles. How much time I’m spending on social media, what I’m binging on Netflix or why I’m not enjoying Cyberpunk 2077 as much as I thought I would.

I could write about any of those things, but now my coffee has worn off. And at the mention of Cyberpunk, I think that’s what I want to do next.