This is not that

Believing is not adopting.
Hearing is not listening.
Changing is not innovating.
Saying is not being.

Talking is not leading.
Silence is not peace.
Technology is not inhuman.
Memorizing is not learning.

Trying is not doing.
Repeating is not diligence.
Opinionated is not stubborn.
Persuasive is not better.

Louder is not more powerful.
Simple is not easy.
Difficult is not complex.
Activity is not progress.
Toil is not success.

Power is not permanent.
Pain is not permanent.
Pleasure is not permanent.
Legacy is not permanent.

Perspective is not righteousness.
Seeing is not feeling.
Nearness is not intimacy.
Optimism is not irrational positivity.

Transparency is not balance.
Relationship is not interaction.
Innovation is not technological.
Culture is not optional.

Come Down Off the Ledge

It seems that we have more opportunities to delete things than we realize.

Why is “Delete Facebook” even a thing, anyway? We suddenly realize this little chat window, status update thing… that it’s bigger than we thought. It makes money, and it eats people’s time. It gives us back something… Perhaps it’s chewing up our time and spitting it back in our face. Maybe that’s why we want to delete it.

Perhaps this is the way all infiltration occurs – not like a SWAT team storming in, but more like a slow insider spy force moving in one person at a time. This little toy of a website or app that at one point was pretty much just Farmville and poking becomes something more, quite stealthily at that.

So many things we use, though! So many that we don’t even remember until we take direct and specific account. I have over fifty devices connecting to my router. Fifty. I remember clearly when my Internet was one-at-a-time – someone calling our home phone would “bump” me from my AIM chat sessions.

I deleted Slack from my phone and my computer for this reason – to subtract. A direct accounting of how my time is chewed up and spit back out at me, one emoji at a time.

“There’s a person on the other side of that thing, you know.” Yeah, of course there is. But my messages are chewing up their time just as quickly. The compression of that medium is more salient than ever.

When you fight over chat, you may be the only one seeing the fight, for example. Ever accidentally misread someone’s tone through the frame of your computer screen, your phone screen? Ever make a mistake in an email because you were felt behind your computer?

I use Freedom and Circle to self moderate. I’m no special case, no elite soldier. I fall prey to this elaborate waste as well. And quickly, too. A snap of a command-T+twi… off to the races, I see the silliest thing under the Moments tab on Twitter and down the hole we go.

So I choose my barriers when I’m thinking clearly.

Coming down off the ledge means realizing that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to sacrifice the only thing that binds us all: your limited time.

When you are thinking clearly and someone asks you, “would you like to have notifications that overwhelm you at any hour you are awake?” – few people would really want to opt-in to this. No one says, “man, I really hope I don’t get much sleep tonight because I was staring at a screen too late.”

When I ask you about your life’s ambition, you wouldn’t say “to spend 12 hours on a screen every day keeping up with the latest gossip and news and hijinks to pacify my awareness of my limited existence.” That’s an uncomfortable, commonplace reality.

We think access is equivalent to convenience. We think access is actually a one-way street, too. That we have access to all the things we use – all the information we want. Every review of every restaurant so we find the BEST coffee at the perfect time of day, roasted seconds before we walk in the door so our majestic entrance is met with perfectly timed personalized service. I can hear the trumpets sounding now – a welcome to our kingly appearance of perfected modernism.

Oh, and don’t forget just how important that coffee is to your personal mission to save the world. And you’re going to do it, just as soon as you send this Tweet, check that email, and fire off a quick Slack message.

Come down. Come down off the ledge. You don’t have to do this.

But, as our friend Marshall McLuhan (or someone) once said, “We shape our tools, and thereafter our tools shape us.”

We have access to our tools, but they also have access to us. We have access to Facebook, to Slack. To iMessages and email. We have access to every TV show, virtually every book we can imagine, every piece of media. We can tour the world through our screens, leaving our bodies in the dust to rot in their inactivity.

We have all of this access, and believe we are observers, travelers, impacting only. And yet, the opposite is true.

We allow our email to have access to us. We allow our screens to impede on our ability to see clearly. We let our endless pursuit of the perfect coffee to eliminate serendipity. Our thirst for modernity and connectedness leaves us terribly alone, docile. Our time chewed up, our “deleting” becoming an act of valor.

Come down off the ledge. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to give everything access to you. You can be whole, and you can leave all of that behind. You choose where your time goes – you choose who gets your attention. You choose, with your rational mind, how many steps to take in a day. You choose to create over consume.

But first, you have to come down off the ledge.

Stop believing that this is the inevitable way.

Stop pouring your time into endless buckets of nothingness, giving away your passions in exchange for pacification. Stop trading your sanity and your soul for safety and satiation.

The ledge feels safe, doesn’t it? Jumping into the water, off the bridge like everyone else. It feels safe, because it’s common – it’s the way everyone else is going. We’ve come so far to not learn this lesson – that the crowd is a terrible thing to follow.

Come down off the ledge.

Letter to Liam, Inauguration Day 2017


You aren’t here yet, and I’m not sure what your voice will sound like. But today is an important day in history.

There are a lot of words in our language that have no particular bend to them. “Important.” “History.” “Surprise.” All of these words are, technically speaking, agnostic of “goodness” or “badness.”

And today is an important day in history, where many people realized the result of a big surprise.

Last year, about a month after you were conceived, Donald Trump was elected president. Today was his inauguration. We saw the peaceful transition of power – watched the Obama family wave their final goodbye, and the signing of the first presidential orders by the 45th president.

Photo credit: ABC News

This letter isn’t here to steer you towards or away from liking Donald Trump; that’s your decision, and ultimately you probably won’t have much of an opinion about him for a long time.

Instead, I want to give you some words and thoughts to consider. By the time this president leaves office, you almost certainly will be between 4 and 8 years old. You will have heard his voice.

You will likely be affected by his presidency for years to come, perhaps for your whole life. You’ll hear about him well beyond his term in office.

I’m not going to steer you towards or away from Donald Trump. I’m here to teach you about empathy. About perspective. To help you find a lens that views the world through what it could be, not what it is today.

A lof of the time, people in your country will use their own situation to make decisions. You will, too. We all do this – it’s human instinct to protect ourselves, our families.

My bills, my taxes, my pain. My neighborhood, my city, my beliefs. My agenda, my family.

These are the things we value intrinsically, without being told we should, because we are trained by our own pain and pleasure. We want to be like our friends. Basic psychology says that being different from those we are in community with feels similar to pain.

This is no different from animals. Animals protect their own. They protect their space, their domain. It’s survival.

But as we evolve – as we learn how to survive better, we also have a newfound sense of perspective and awareness. We learn about empathy. You may have heard this word before, but for the sake of this letter, we’ll use the definition of “understanding and caring about the situations and perspectives of people other than yourself.”

Empathy isn’t something we stumble upon – it is something we practice. It’s hard work.

Empathy gets really hard when you encounter someone you disagree with. Especially if those same people are those you care about. Perhaps the hardest people to practice empathy for, though, are those that you dislike, disagree with, who are very different from you in every way.

Liam, you have a perpetual license to agree AND disagree with me. And with anyone else you encounter. It’s one of the fundamental parts of being human – your own path-finding.

My hope for you, Liam, is to remember that you are just as vulnerable as the next person to elevate your own concerns, survival, and pain above others. To elevate your beliefs. You may have the tendency to hold those beliefs over others’ heads, even – imperialism certainly started somewhere.

But keep in mind, son – just because something goes well for you does not mean that thing is good for everyone. Just because your taxes decrease doesn’t mean someone else isn’t left out in the cold. Just because you are doing well, doesn’t mean your neighbor is doing well.

When you get awarded the job, someone else is left unemployed.

When you win the game, the other team experiences loss.

When your country wins a war, there are always casualties.

Beyond these obvious realities, not everyone has the same experience. Not everyone is born into the same situation.

You, Liam, are extremely privileged. In this place in history, you have been born with the statistics skewed in your favor. Being a white male, for example, statistically makes you more likely to have earning power. Your mother and I will take care of you, and we work hard; you won’t likely experience major poverty. You won’t see significant violence in your neighborhood, and you will be around people who invest in your future and your welfare.

This isn’t true for everyone. While everyone has equal rights, and everyone has technical opportunity based on legalities, not everyone will have access to those opportunities. Not everyone is willing to recognize those rights fully, and sometimes those rights are thwarted by the actions of others.

No system is perfect. The market isn’t perfect, and neither are the suggestions for how to fix it. At this point in history, our income gap is large. Our national debt is insane. We have a lot of broken stuff laying around, and unfortunately just as with war, there are casualties.

You may have a friend one day who doesn’t have the same privilege as you. You may work with people who are paid unequally to you. You may encounter someone who has experienced hate, or poverty, or violence, their entire lives. They may experience crippling debt as a result of medical problems. Perhaps they have a mental disposition that handicaps their employability. Or maybe they simply have a different belief system than you have.

Do not let anyone fool you: these people do not have the same life that you have, and treating them as if they do is nothing short of living a lie.

As a side note, many people do live this lie. Perhaps not intentionally, but rather because they don’t think to confront these realities. Sometimes they are simply blinded by their culture. It’s important to recognize that you, too, will have blind spots that you don’t even realize. Always be humble and recognize this fallibility of your own perspective.

My prayer is that you don’t ignore this disparity between you and those around you, and equally that you don’t seek to coerce them into conforming to your way of life. Instead, I pray that you develop perspective, and breed empathy. To open your eyes and see people how Christ would see them, in the light of their suffering rather than in the light of your own survival and benefit.

Remember that empathy is a marker of maturity. Develop a worldview that takes into account the realities of others’ experiences. To understand and work on behalf of others as well as yourself.

I’ll end this letter with this very simple quote from the comedian Louis C.K.:

The only time you look in your neighbor’s bowl is to make sure that they have enough. You don’t look in your neighbor’s bowl to see if you have as much as them.

I love you, son, and I believe you will keep your heart, mind, and eyes open to what is happening for your neighbor as much as for yourself.

Twenty-Eight Years

Year twenty-eight has been, to say the least, eventful.

A few important highlights for those of you who like lists (myself included):

  • Whiteboard grew by 7 new people – this is a huge responsibility
  • Developer Tea turned 1 year old (and hit numerous milestones)
  • I pursued and attained my private pilot license
  • Lauren and I became more involved at Harvest Chattanooga
  • Easily the most important thing: I found out I became a father, and will see my child in year 29

Here’s some trivial memory highlights:

  • Dad and I started working on revitalizing N3244Y, his Cessna 182E, for the two of us to share and fly together. I’ll be responsible for avionics, and dad for the mechanical side. We’ll never be done working on this plane, but it will be in service this next year.
  • Lauren and I upped our house game this year: refinanced our loan, got some better furniture, and built out a new room upstairs (as fate would have it, before we knew we’d be having our child soon)
  • We bought our Subaru Outback this year
  • Whiteboard launched Home Movies this year, just in time for Thanksgiving rush. This is a huge accomplishment, and a long time coming; we’ve spent many hours watching home movies, and I can’t wait to see my children side by side to my and Lauren’s baby videos.
  • Both of our next door neighbors moved this year. It would be easy to assume it’s something to do with us, but in fact, the neighborhood has appreciated significantly, enticing people to sell high.
  • Tons of other awesome stuff happened this year that I’ll have to fill in as I remember it… Come back and you’ll see the edits.

Odd Lessons from 28

With all of the awesome stuff that has happened in year 28, the world around me seems to be in a strange, tense state.

This was easily the strangest political climate we’ve had in the U.S. since I was born. Of all the odd encounters with people I’ve had in my life, having a differing political opinion from another person creates one of the most palpable feelings of division that I’ve ever felt. I was out with my family in Dothan today. Coming out of a store, I saw a truck – and there is no exaggeration here – with the Christian flag, two Alabama “Roll Tide” flags, an American flag, a Trump flag, and I believe a confederate flag (although admittedly I was too dumbfounded to remember in perfect detail). And to be honest, it wasn’t that I have extremely different ideals from this person. I am fiscally conservative (though not a Trump supporter), and I confess faith as a Christian. But with my beliefs and perspectives, I cannot imagine what level of commitment or passion about my own beliefs I would have to have to fly that many flags, no matter what is on the face of it.

This was kind of a meandering rant, but I suppose my point is this – in a world where opinions of those closest to you can more easily than ever be extremely different, remember that it’s not your job to fly a flag, but instead to live amongst one another. This applies far less to the relationship between flag guy and me, and much more to my relationship with my own family members, friends, and colleagues who differ from me. Politically, culturally, even in taste – I’m learning that sharing my opinion is less valuable than learning the perspectives and opinions of others, and using that information to get closer and treat each other better. If you’re close to me, I love you first and foremost, and want to give you the best version of me that I have.

The times I’ve shared my opinion out of anger, frustration, or a sense of righteousness, I end up being overly preachy. I wouldn’t want to be around me in those moments. Conversely, when I share my opinion from a logical, critical perspective to better something, particularly in a professional setting, the opinion then holds value. But here’s the catch: in every scenario that my opinion was valuable, it was explicitly asked for. Lesson learned: don’t be quick to share an uninvited opinion.

I am your father.

I just watched Rogue One today. Quite good in my opinion. There are so many father references in Star Wars. Basically every movie has a pretty significant hinge on a father-son or father-daughter relationship. Some mother roles in there too.

I’m one of those. I’m a father. My own Dad looked at me tonight and said, “I can’t believe you’re going to be a Dad.” And honestly, I can’t either.

I usually am relatively composed, and I do a decent job interpolating basic advice for people who are well beyond my experience level, age, wisdom level, etcetera. However, when it comes to fatherhood, I am clueless. No experience, unless you’re counting uncle years.

So, my plan is to be good to my child. Be present. Challenge them to love learning even more than I do. To look at life with wonder and positivity, and to create more of what ought to be. To teach them conviction, and the importance of caring for others, and what it means to work hard, and play hard. I want to teach them how to be kind and compassionate to others, and tolerant and respectful. I want to help them develop their own belief, and pray for them to learn what it means to have faith and hope in Christ. I will show them that I love their mom, and teach them to love family.

But honestly, I know I will mess some of that up. I know I will say the wrong things sometimes, and that there will be bugs in my system from day one.

I hate diapers, by the way. Absolutely terrible with that kind of stuff. It’s not that I don’t want to do the work.

I’d stay up all night and rock a crying baby if it meant avoiding diaper duty. It makes absolutely no sense.

I do love my child. And I hope I get most of the stuff right. Maybe one day, they will get a chance to read this, and see how much I thought of them.

I’m up at 3AM writing this blog, mostly to get a chance to write something for you to read, little one.

The year that took so many celebrities.

A great year for me, but we’ve seen so many celebrities go before their time. Everyone’s complaining that 2016 is unusually bad, etc. I’m sure we’ve had a similar one before. Just Google it, no need to belabor the point. A good insight on a relevant reddit thread – perhaps it hits so hard because many of these folks were younger than average death age, and we are realizing the mortality of our own parents, and perhaps in turn our own mortality.

I have a penchant for finding reasons why I’m more healthy or less likely to die like that person did. Or, justify that they were really old, or somehow emotionally prepared to die, or that the statistics work more in my favor. Coping, or maybe valid reasoning, or a cocktail of both. Either way, it happens to us all at some point.

I hope when I’m gone, young or old, that those closest to me will adapt. I don’t want my absence to be a handicap, but rather my memory to be an inspiration. The next 28 years, if I am blessed to have it, I want to spend loving my wife, my children, my family, and those around me enough that every day could be my last, and I’d know I left it all out here and took no love to the grave.

A strangely dark turn to a birthday post. Let’s back out of this little black hole.


The 29th year begins at 7:30 tonight.

It’s not scientifically important, by the way – unless there’s some weird moon rhythm thing I don’t understand. It’s a step marker – a measuring stick. So we don’t lose our place.

For year 29, I don’t want to ignore that measuring stick one single day. Every day, I want to walk away from more thankful than the last.

Concrete goals:

  • Create a habit of writing more often. Here on WordPress. In this nicely made but incredibly generic 2017 theme. A big hurdle before was that I was stuck on the tool rather than the practice.
  • Get my IR ticket. Instrument flying will help inform me how to be a safer pilot.
  • Get into the thousand club. This was a goal last year that I didn’t pursue correctly. Ended up hurting my back. Gonna try again this year.
  • Read more books. I am ashamed to say that though I read quite a lot last year, I read mostly digital things. Shorter pieces. I want to read more this year – perhaps a book a month is a solid reachable goal.
  • Be active more days than not. This goal is important to me – I feel better and function better when I am active at least 4 days out of 7.

Conclusion / TLDR;

This year was awesome. Did some super cool stuff. Some crazy things happened in politics and celebrity land. I’m gonna be a Dad, and I want to be a better person both before and after the Baby arrives.