To Be Young

He neither cares about the size of the house nor the ‘quality’ of items within it.

We all could & should learn from this.

In our small backyard, on our aging deck, he pulls & sweeps a broom for fun. I am jealous. He is fulfilled.

He is happy. I am happy.

I want this time, this phase, to last for as long as possible. Forever. But I know it can’t. Why?

Baseball Diplomacy

I wrote/recorded (see video on YouTube) this a couple of years ago for The Comprehensivists, but just realized it is not on my own site. I think this is/could be an important topic, so let’s discuss…___________________________________________________________________________________________

If you have listened to some of my “quick hitter” podcasts or read any of my posts, you likely know that any intersection between Cuba and baseball is right up my alley. I am no expert, but I am intrigued. So when I came across a story on the fact that the Cuban national baseball team will miss the 2020 Carribean Championships, I couldn’t resist.

Baseball is not just a sport in Cuba, it is a passion. The country has produced some of Major League Baseball’s most talented players, despite most of them having to risk their “freedom”, or worse, to come to the US and chase their dream. The Cuban national team has won many international level games and tournaments, including three Olympic gold medals, and has impressed the rest of the baseball playing world for the last 100 years. Also of note, they took the silver at the 2006 World Baseball Classic...a tournament that was held in California.

But they will not be able to compete in the 2020 Caribbean tournament, which is being held in Puerto Rico (PR). The location of the tournament is the reason they will not be there. In order to travel to PR, the Cuban players are required to obtain US visas. Here is the obvious problem. As of 2017, there are no longer consular services between the US and Cuba in Havana. This means the players would need to travel to, apply with, and receive US visas through a third country’s embassy. This is time consuming and costly, perhaps even impossible for most Cubans. The national team has stated that they will be unable to accomplish this feat in time for the tournament.

US-Cuba relations are long, complicated, and interesting. A short blog post such as this is no place to recap the topic, but most of us are at least somewhat familiar with the situation. No matter which side of the fence you are on, we can agree that this scenario is not ideal. We usually hear about how sports bridges the gap between nations, between cultures, and between individuals. This has even been attempted between our two nations, when then President Obama (controversially) traveled to Havana to watch a baseball game between the Tampa Bay Rays and the Cuban national team. “Baseball diplomacy” worked that day, to some degree. 

But sport, baseball, will not have the opportunity to do so this time around. We will be left to wonder if this is a missed moment for a minor improvement in relations. This chance to work together seems like a fastball, right down the middle. For whatever reason, we are deciding to leave the bat on our shoulder.

-Houston Bailey (@BumpBailey)

The Journey

I have a short stack of books on my desk at work. Typically 3-4 at any given time. I like to think that I do this in order to provide opportunities for my students and/or co-workers to find new reading options, ones that I found impactful. Perhaps I am doing it to look smarter or more interesting. Either way, I don’t see others doing this, so I take a little pride in it.

It has also been somewhat interesting so far. A handful of people have looked at the stack and asked questions, but only 2 have borrowed a book. It was the same book both times. ‘The Alchemist’.

This book is basically about following your dreams. About taking journeys. About learning from both of these.

Is this a coincidence? Are people yearning for these things (yes)?

I understand that a sample size of 2 is small, but I find it meaningful. I look forward to see what the next book off my desk will be, and if it will be the same one. If you have not read the book, I recommend it, obviously.

Perhaps there shall be updates to come.

-Houston

What Would You Do?

We all watch. Most in horror or shock. But we all watch.

Some events can change the path of human life on earth, and this may be one of them.

Ukraine is a proud nation and the events of the past few days will not change that, only bolster that sentiment. 

I will admit that as I see many 20-40 year old Ukrainian men leave for Poland, or wherever, my initial reaction is to question the reasoning. I would like to think that you should stay and fight.

But, would I?

When I was 21, or even 31, my answer would be clear. Volunteer. Draw a weapon. Fight.

Now, at 42 with a young son, it is not so cut and dry. Would I? Would I want him to if he is in this position down the road?

Would I stay behind and see my wife and 18-month old off, hoping to hug them again some day? Or would I go with them, making sure I did everything in my power to keep them safe? I do not think I can answer that, and luckily, at least for now, I do not have to.

But thousands of others do. There are undoubtedly countless Ukrainians in my same position in life. Married to someone they adore. Starting the journey of raising that first child together, a child who needs them now more than ever.

What do you do?

Many Americans faced a similar scenario 20 plus years ago. I made the decision to fight at that point, but that was before having a wife and child. What if that fateful day happened today, now that life is different?

I do not envy the position that the Ukrainians have been put in. I am not sure what I would do. Do you stay and fight, with the risk of never seeing your family again? Do you leave, ensuring your family’s relative well-being?

Which is the better lesson for your child? 

Does that matter? Should it?

I hope the decisions made in the past few days, and in the coming days, work out as best as possible for everyone involved.

If you ever have to make a similar decision, I wish you the best.

-Houston Bailey

Take the Ride

(Wrote this in 5 mins, no edits…but I wrote SOMETHING)

I am 42 years old and I recently bought an electric scooter. For myself.

I use it to get from my car to the office. This used to be about a 12-minute walk, but now it is a 3-minute…scoot. But, I will admit, I also take it on joy rides around the neighborhood when I get a chance.

It is fun, plain and simple.

I love it and the rides make me feel as if I was a kid again. This is something that we are missing in our life, most of us at least.

Having fun. Getting outside. Being comfortable looking a little silly.

We do a lot of all of these things when we are young, and then they start to fade at some point. Buy why? And what is the impact? It can’t be good, right?

I think we all need to make commitments to ourselves to attempt to get back to this, even if in some small way, like an electric scooter.

Take that ride. Feel that wind. Think about…nothing.

-Houston (@BumpBailey)

Furnished Apartments, Debit Card Cars, & Future Spouses

At one point in life I would have considered myself a minimalist. Especially when compared to friends, family, and colleagues, although comparison is not something I typically recommend. 

But I have strayed from the path.

I met the woman who would become my wife in a West Texas town by the name of San Angelo. There was not much to do there, which sounded perfect to me. I was moving there for about eight months, which is neither a huge nor tiny amount of time. I flew to this town. This meant I brought with me everything that could fit in one checked bag and a carry-on. I showed up with a lease signed for a furnished apartment, and zero laptops to be seen.

Not a whole lot of worries.

Within the first few days, I decided I needed some transportation, so I bought a car. I bought it with my debit card, if that tells you anything about the quality of the vehicle. I didn’t want to care about it, and I didn’t.

Once that car inevitably gave out on me, I purchased a fairly cheap Jeep. One of those that you can leave the top and doors off of and never think twice about it. I was happy. I could leave at any time I so desired, which is a strangely comforting feeling. Everything I owned would easily fit in that Jeep, even if the backseat may be a little damp from the warm Texas rain.

It was freedom, a freedom that is hard to put into words these days.

Life has significantly changed for me, these 12 or so years later. As mentioned, I am married to that woman and now have a toddler son. We own many items these days. Some necessary, some maybe not. We even own a home which is something I could have never envisioned happening (for me). In fact, this is actually the second home we have purchased.

TVs, furniture, fancy pots and pans.

All responsibilities in some way.

We talk sometimes about getting back closer to a more minimalist lifestyle, but I do not think it is completely realistic at this point. Obviously we want to provide for our son and ensure he has everything he needs. But defining the word “need” can be tricky.

My life now is incredible. I would not change anything. But, there are certain times when I look back fondly on those West Texas days and the lack of worry that I possessed (if that is the right word in this context). Even if those types of days never return, I will always be grateful that they existed in the first place.

For now, I will make sure my family has everything that they need, and want. But I will also pass down the knowledge of just how good that freedom can feel, if even for a short eight months.

-Houston (@BumpBailey)

The Dilemma of a Wasted Morning

I consider myself one of the more productive people I know when it comes to the early mornings. I wake up (almost) every day at 5:01 a.m. and get started. The days’ tasks vary, but there is always something. Workouts, dog walks, writing. Something.

But there are some days where it feels good to not do much. Perhaps have a little coffee and think about things, or read something you’ve been meaning to read. Have a little of what they call “down time”. This is especially true after a long few days of dealing with…whatever.

This morning was one of those for me. I will admit, I started writing this at 7:50 a.m., but only because my 18-month old son decided to sleep in today. I took as much “down time” as I could bear, I suppose. But still, I did not do much of anything for those first 2 plus hours.

And you know what, it felt pretty good.

Will I regret it tonight when I begin to wish I would’ve accomplished more today? Likely. Will my mind and body appreciate the break? Most definitely. 

Enter the dilemma. I understand that these mornings or even days can be good for you, regenerative, but how often should we allow ourselves this pleasure? Is it one of these slippery slope situations that I always hear about?

What to do…

In some strange way I am almost proud of myself for relaxing for a while this morning. Is that an accomplishment in itself? If so, does it truly count as relaxing? Another dilemma.

Either way, we all deserve some of this time to ourselves and our thoughts. Take advantage as you can, if you so desire, but watch out for that slope.

As for me, I will be back at it tomorrow, 5:01 a.m.

-Houston

A Symbol

As I look out my front window I see a large oak tree covered in moss. It reminds me of where I am, a place I love. It is a symbol. A symbol of good times had as a searcher, and then a maturing adult with what some would call experience, and now of a grown man raising a family.

A symbol of a place I have called home on several different occasions, even though it is not my hometown.

There is something about this tree, as similar as it is to the hundred others nearby. There is something about this place, whether it is considered similar to many others or unique in its own right. Just…something.

Swampy. Small. Vibrant.

A college town, by any definition of term.

Back to the tree. When I glance out front, whether on purpose or subconsciously, there it is. It strikes me every time and reminds me of all the different times I have had here. It gives a vision of times to be had here in the future. It makes me appreciative of the place. Home.

Some physical objects can do this for us. It is strange that this is not my object, it is a thing of nature, or at best belongs to my neighbor. Whatever it is, it impacts me on a daily basis. I never thought one individual tree could make me feel so many different things. But here we are.

I never thought I would attempt to write about a neighbor’s tree. But here we are. A symbol of something, no matter how strange that may be.

-Houston

Dirt, Passion, and Rattlesnakes

There is something about craftsmanship. Something about specializing. Something about truly caring.

Focus.

I take pride in considering myself a ‘Generalist’, someone who tries to go (cliché) an inch deep but a mile wide. I think this is the best strategy for me personally, but I see the beauty in focusing on a certain thing and being the best at it. Loving it, whatever ‘it’ is.

That is what this article reminded me of today- ‘The Art of the Tampa Cuban’ from Garden & Gun. You may not think you can learn a lot from someone who produces a sandwich, or in this case bread, but I would disagree.

To be fair I am, some would say, slightly obsessed with this particular delicacy. This article, however, is more about pride. It is about dedication. Love. Perhaps a reflection of how life should be lived.

The level of work it takes to produce something that will be used by others to create something else is the definition of discipline.Taking pride in the foundation, even if it is the foundation of someone else’s creation, is a lost art.

Pride in work. Pride in life. Inextricably linked.

Even if you find a sandwich a trivial matter, I think you can take some lessons from this article, especially the first bit. That goes for anything you may read. Some are specialists, and specialization can lead to greatness.

The key, maybe, is finding ‘that’ thing. I wish us luck.

What a World

Writing when you are either physically or mentally exhausted is hard to do. You really don’t even have to reach the point of exhaustion, just fall somewhere on that spectrum.

The mental side is the more challenging of the two, as far as I see it. But, there are some days where I will use either one as some form of excuse to not accomplish a goal, in this case…writing.

Morning entertainment with the kid. Work. Bathtime. Cooking. Cleaning. Prepping for tomorrow. Unless writing is the full-time gig, it can get tricky.

That is the frustration. That is the allure. An intoxicating combo.

We, us writers, have examples of those who have struggled with the dilemma in the past. Some have overcome and strived. Some have not. Names abound.

As a late bloomer, term used loosely, in the world of writing, I can appreciate all of those who have dedicated their time and struggled to make this a profession. Wherever that means. It is hard. It is nerve-racking. It is out of the norm.

But, it can be worth it.

When I hear of those who have gone down the path enough to provide for themselves and their family, it seems ideal. Few and far between, maybe.

This is hard. This is impactful. We should all do it.

Writing. What a game. What a world.

Carry the Fire

This morning I finished my first read of 2022. It was ‘The Road’ by Cormac McCarthy. I have read some of his work in the past, but this one was quite different.

This is not a book review, but more of a reflection of what I learned from this book, something that should be mandatory in your choosing of the next book to read- can you learn from it and what will you learn from it?

I will break my promise and say, as a short review, I loved the book. I enjoy his style. Unique.

More importantly I took some lessons from it. I will not review or reveal the plot, as most of you know it already or can easily find out, but the parallels between the storyline and my current life situation should be clear.

A father protecting, and teaching, his son. Preparing him for life. Also, learning from him as you go.

These are the throughlines of the story that match my last 18 months. It is amazing how much you can learn from anything or anyone, if you just pay attention. You may have heard me say that before, somewhere.

There were many points in this book that truly hit home. Specific sentences. Broader paragraphs. Heart-wrenching conversations. Life lessons for fathers, parents, children, men, women, and everyone in between. Everyone. The book, and conversations, are short and to the point. Direct. How real life should be, for the most part, except for the “short” part.

No spoilers, but towards the end of the story, the father really begins to instill in his son the lessons learned over many years that he, the son, should be ready to carry forward. But, overall, the father did a great job of this throughout. I would love to replicate that, and I hope I am. Preparing my son for the life and world that is coming. Preparing him in case I am not around.

This sounds macabre, but I think it is actually realistic and smart and ideal. You never know when your child may be without you, unable to soak in those real-time lessons from your teachings, or just through observation.

I now plan to be more intentional with my lessons and how my son witnesses my actions. I want him to be prepared and be able to prepare others. Even if he doesn't know it at the time.

I want him to carry the fire. And I know he will.

-Houston (@BumpBailey)

A Short Thought on Time

(wrote this late in the evening of a Sunday after an impactful weekend…no edits)

Time is fleeting. Time is a mystery. What is time, exactly?

I can’t answer that question, but there are a few things I now know about time.

Time is important. Time is wasted. Time is, or at least should be, our number one commodity.

The time we spend doing things that we do not want to do is brutal. The time we spend doing things we want to do is crucial. The balance…tricky.

But should it be?

We all know the feeling when we try to quantify our work time, but we never seem to quite get it right when planning our personal time. Time with the kid- always great. Time working on a menial task- always bad. How do we change this? Is it possible?

When I hit my forties, perhaps my biggest goal was to better prioritize and enjoy my shrinking time. I am not sure I have accomplished this yet, but that goal still lives. Why am I taking so much time?

I had an experience this weekend of someone extremely close to me facing this dilemma with each second of each day. I have appreciated the time component of life for quite some time, but this weekend made me think a little deeper on it.

What matters at the end of the proverbial day? I can tell you, at least from my insight, there are only a few things. Perhaps these few things are defined differently by some of us, but I can promise that the difference is likely slight. Likely slighter than we think.

This sentence/paragraph is where I would typically list three things that tend to be important for the vast majority of us. I will fight that urge, because I cannot define those items of importance for anyone but myself. But think about them.

This weekend helped me hone in on what those things are for me. I am sure they will be a work in progress, but perhaps I should know them by now- which I likely do.

Time. Important. Crucial. Meaningful. Mysterious.

-HB

Sweaty Palms

I was asked an interesting question over the holidays by my father in law. He asked something basic, yet impactful: “what is the most surprising thing about being a new parent?”. I should have mentioned, I have a 16-month old at the time of the question, my first child.

I would have thought that there would have been many answers to choose from, but only one stood out. My answer is that I, more so than my wife, am overly worried about the physical safety of my son. This does not mean that she is not worried about him, just that she gives him a little more leeway to make mistakes, take a fall, etc. I realize that this is likely good for him, but it is more difficult than expected for me to allow. I did not see that coming.

I thought I would be the “rub some dirt on it” type of dad, but so far that is not the case. I suppose there is still time.

It is hard for me not to keep my eyes on him every second. It is hard for me to let him climb on the furniture without standing within arm’s length, at most. The list could continue. This may pass as he grows, but it is hard to tell. Again, this is really surprising to me.

I am already thinking about the types of things he may be interested in as he gets older. Surfing. SCUBA-diving. Skydiving? My palms are sweaty just typing those words.

Parenthood obviously changes you, but I did not expect this particular change. I am now a little softer, but I am not sure that it is necessarily a bad thing. I care, maybe more than I have ever cared before. It is hard to properly describe. It is hard to properly understand. We shall see how long this will last, but I have a feeling it may be a bit, and I think I am OK with that.

-Houston Bailey (@BumpBailey)

The Line Was White

I don't recall what year it was, perhaps 2011. I am sure I could look it up, but that really isn't the point. The point is, I visited the DMZ. A rarely visited place by all accounts. If you are not familiar, the DMZ is a strip of land that separates South and North Korea, lands separated by little distance but by vast ideology. ‘DMZ’ stands for demilitarized zone, but it is hardly that.

Land mines, armed guards, barbed wire.

The 38th parallel.

In my many travels, this is the creepiest place I have been. If there is a stranger place on earth, I would love to visit, for whatever reason.

When there, from wherever you stand, you could spit on either side. But you shouldn’t. 

I stepped foot inside the infamous ‘blue house’ (not sure that is the proper name) escorted by armed South Korean military members. There was a line drawn on the floor that ran up and through a table directly in the middle of the room. The border between the two Koreas.

The line was white. The line was distinct.

I, for whatever reason, was allowed to cross that line and step into North Korea, technically. That step felt strange. Dangerous. Not a place warm to outsiders. It was a wobbly step.

I was being watched by men with binoculars even though they were within a range where they likely did not need them. A show of force, if you can define that as force.

While there I felt as if anything could happen at any given time. I still feel as if that is true ten years later. If you have been there, you know that feeling.

There are many unique locations on earth that I have been lucky enough to visit, but I struggle to find one that better fits that description, unique.

-Houston Bailey (@BumpBailey)

Back to Work

Tomorrow I go back to work. I have been off for a total of 12 straight days at this point, so going back would typically be a touchy subject. I am lucky, however, that I have a job that I enjoy and that is fulfilling. I have had some in the past that do not meet that criteria. Most of us are in that same boat, the latter. I am not dreading tomorrow and this is a good sign.

This got me thinking about the importance of time off, hell even sabbaticals. I think for a lot of us, this can be necessary if not mandatory. We work. We work a lot. We work long hours. We work hard. Do we need more of the opposite at times? Likely.

I know we all know it, but it is still important to be said- we need more ‘down’ time. Just time without…timelines. No meetings, no deliverables, no bosses. We need it, and we need it more than we currently allow ourselves.

As I walk through the doors in the morning, I will consider myself one of the lucky few. The lucky few who have no dread on that first day back. I know that most won’t have that same feeling. That feeling is difficult to come by. If you have it, count yourself lucky. If you do not, maybe it is time for a change.

We all have to work in some capacity. Should we stop allowing others to define what ‘work’ is for us?

Just a thought.

-Houston (@BumpBailey)

I Worry, I Wonder

What is to come for the small children of today? As a new and first time father, this question scares me more than just a little. This question could be about life in general, but I am mostly referring to life around social media and technology as a whole.

Like most parents, I grew up in the world prior to social media. Nowadays I use it a lot, but I can at least imagine a world in which it doesn’t exist…the “real” world. That will not be the case for my son. How do I teach him to navigate these treacherous waters when I never had to do so myself? How much of his life will be spent on a screen, caring about what others are saying about whatever he is saying? Is this the new norm?

Questions abound.

I understand that there are legitimate benefits of technology (in this case social media) but I worry that it will rob him of some more tangible experiences. Experiences that you can touch with your hands and feel in your gut.

As a child I ran through the woods on fantastical missions to complete this or that, something imagined by my own mind. The wind was in my hair, the dirt on my hands, and the wildlife in my eyes. This was a common occurrence. Will my son’s experience of the woods (as an example) be virtual, conducted in some digital world? If so, can that be as good as the real thing?

I wonder if he will be good at making real, physical friends at school or if friends will now be made online. Hell, will there even be a “normal” school ten years from now? With those new friends, how will relationships look? Will communication be conducted strictly through technology, or will there still be heart to heart, face to face talks?

I am hopeful that his life will be normal, considering it will be all he knows. But with the speed of technology, I can't even imagine what will be available to him as he comes of age. Scary or exciting? Both?

I worry, I wonder.

-Houston (@BumpBailey)

A Year of Writing

Day 1. Day 1 of 365. 

My goal is to write every day of 2022. This will come in the form of blogs, musings, reviews, thoughts on interesting articles I come across, and whatever else I can come up with to reach this goal. I have a solid topic list going, but is not even close to triple digits at this point.

I need to get back into the habit of writing. Since I completed my book I have done very little writing, and it has been too long considering this is something I enjoy doing. So here it goes. Another reason this is a goal has to do with discipline. That category has been lacking a little for me recently and I believe this challenge will get me back on track.

Not everything I write this year will be great, but that is ok. I am going to post something on my website every single day, regardless of how much deep thought or editing time goes into it. Some will be short, some will be longer. I will also be sharing some of these writings on social media, to hold myself accountable as well as to get more comfortable sharing my ‘work’. Do not worry, I will not share 365 posts, but feel free to follow along through the website.

We shall see how this goes and if I can stick to my goal. I have confidence. This is a short post, but it is a start. I look forward to 2022 and I hope we can all accomplish great things, big or small. Day 1…done.

-Houston Bailey (@BumpBailey)

Have One Vice

‘Have One Vice’ is a chapter from my book, “Looking at Forty: A Most Meaningful Year”

I drank whiskey today. More accurately, I am currently drinking whiskey. It is not a Scotch or even a semi-fancy whiskey, but it is good. I chose to drink whiskey instead of being physically productive. This can be a struggle for me considering my affinity for production. I am not sure if I drank it to actually enjoy the whiskey or as a symbol of escape. I do not mean escape in the sense of using substances to escape everyday life and reality, because that can become a problematic situation and I advise against it. I’m talking about an escape from the norm. Maybe drinking the whiskey is me rebelling from something greater. Yes, I am drinking alone at the house—again, this is out of the norm. I purposely did this today to break up the routine, not to escape life.

My best friend and I have this ridiculous saying: “All the greats.” The saying is a hyperbolic one in reference to our belief that “all” creative and interesting people often partake in a cocktail or three. Some even a little too often. It is ridiculous because it is untrue, but it is something we want to believe deep down in our 39-year-old hearts, considering we both enjoy the regular sip and everything that comes along with it. The saying gives us license to enjoy a drink and feel OK about it. Maybe we think it will increase our ability to churn out whatever creative thoughts are trapped brewing in our minds. Maybe if I continue on the whiskey, this book will start to sound more like a product of one Mr. Hemingway. Most of us include him on our loose list of partaking greats. Take a minute and consider the long list of creative masterminds and historically interesting artists. Think about their shared habits. Having a couple of beverages on the regular seems to run in the club. Probably a coincidence, but who knows.

Today’s act could, and likely does, display a longing to be one of those creative and interesting people. To be the type of person who hangs around somewhere between infamy and adoration. The sweet spot. If “all the greats” did it and were great, perhaps I too can be great by joining in on the not-so-subtle secret. Conceivably, when I partake, I could be ever-so-slightly more interesting to others, which is always a good thing. I cannot think of a time where it is good to be less interesting. The aforementioned Mr. Hemingway said, “I drink to make others more interesting.” If this was his true thought, I just claimed the opposite. I might be drinking to make myself more interesting to others—in today’s case, to you, the reader. Perhaps Mr. Hemingway was justifying his drink, or maybe he thought the opposite but was too stubborn to admit as much to his audience.

Am I drinking the whiskey today because of jealousy or envy? Is my life not creative and interesting enough at 39? These thoughts skirt the border of sounding like I am drinking for all the wrong reasons. I can ensure you that is not the case, as today is more of a one-off for me than the usual. As mentioned, I am using this whiskey as a symbol, at least in my mind. The difficulty is determining exactly what it is a symbol of. The more I think about it—the what and the why—the more interesting this internal question becomes. (The more whiskey I sip could also have something to do with this.) I wonder what this glass in my hand represents in the grand scheme of life. I wonder who the modern-day “greats” are. They seem much different from “all the greats” of the past, but only time will tell. That is not necessarily a bad thing, the differences. I wonder what being great is in the first place. Who determines that? What determines that?

I would have never considered this glass of whiskey to be anything meaningful in my younger years, or even in my very recent years. It’s funny and sometimes strange what is interesting to you when approaching 40. It is a curious thing as to what is on your mind when you think about why it is there. For the first time, with 40 over my shoulder, I feel like it is something significant. I feel like everything has meaning and significance these days. I have a sudden desire to find what those things are and express them to others, another thing that was foreign to me until very recently. Hell, maybe I should take on the burden of trying to be a modern-day “great.” Maybe I should push my levels of creativity as far as I can. Maybe I could be one of the more interesting people out there. Or maybe—and likely—I am just enjoying a drink and writing a chapter in what I hope turns out to be a decent book about the approach of 40. Cheers.

-Houston Bailey (@BumpBailey)

Stay Salty

‘Stay Salty’ is a chapter from my book, “Looking at Forty: A Most Meaningful Year”

I swam in the ocean today. I have done this countless times in life, but today it felt different. When I submerged my face into that cold, salt-tinged water, some light went off in my head. That sand that sometimes rubs us wrong, today it was wonderful in every way. For me, getting into the ocean is an important thing to do every now and then, and it gets more important with age and with time and with more responsibilities. It is relaxing (mostly), it is refreshing, and it brings me back to simpler times. 

As you may know, I come from the east coast of Florida. There it is easy to head to the beach and jump into the water almost any time your heart desires. At certain points in life, I did this every weekend for months at a time. The more years that go by, the further I seem to be away from that place, both physically and mentally. With that comes less and less time I get to spend there and the less salt I have on my skin and in my system. But I was back home, at least in my own mind, today, even though the ocean I was in happened to be off of the Texas coast. I was back to simpler and easier times. I was half-enjoying that cool salty water against my body while also being half petrified. There is always a worry that some form of large predatory wildlife may pay a visit—an ever-present thought for me any time I jump in, whether rational or not. As a famous comedian calls it, the ocean is “monster soup.” 

Growing up, I took swimming in the ocean for granted. I even sometimes dreaded making the drive or bike ride over with the family. Perhaps we all took it for granted once or twice, those of us who were lucky enough to be within an easy travel distance to the sea. It is clear to me now that this is something that is common to the maturing (aging) psyche, taking things for granted. We all know that we do it, but we sometimes do not know it until later in life. Then we start to see others making the same youthful mistakes and indiscretions that we once made, and it sinks in. We often do not admit to doing it—taking things for granted—until later in life. It happened to me today. 

Think back to something in your youth that you “hated” while it was happening. I bet that you wish you could go back now and enjoy every single second. I am sure we could each create a lengthy list of things or people or moments that would fit into this category. A list of things we thought we would never miss or admire. When 20 or 30 years go by, you realize how important and special those things were and are. You realize how they shaped you into what you are today, whether good or bad. They were special to you and special to your growth as a human being, even if you did not realize it at the time. It is OK to recognize that now. In fact, you should recognize that now and take moments to appreciate those long-forgotten things. You owe it to them. 

I know that now, at 39, there were many things I took for granted and things I likely still do. The time I spent with my grandparents, who have all now passed away, that I did not take full advantage of, missing out on countless life lessons and learning opportunities. The experience of being the captain of my baseball team, something I could have done a better job at and now wish I would have. The times I could have spent hanging out with my three sisters but decided to do other things for whatever reason. Now all three live nowhere near me, and those face-to-face interactions are rare and missed. My first few years of college should have been more productive and positive, but I spent them partying and wasting time. Many friendships have fallen by the wayside for no particularly good reason, but I know I played some part. This list can continue but we all get the point. I know I do not want to add things to this list going forward. At 39, I realize this and I am making a vow to myself not to let these types of things slip through my fingers again. Today’s event of swimming in the ocean, somehow, made me think about that. 

Today’s saltwater swim and the resulting feeling of freedom was a symbol. I should appreciate moments like this and I should seek these types of moments out and pursue them with unrelenting determination. I know I should appreciate my upbringing and how it influenced all 39 years of this life. It is a symbol of gratitude. I need to be grateful for this kind of experience and the benefits it provides. I do not know the percentage of the world population that has never swum in the ocean, but I bet it is high. Think about that. Especially if you are one of the lucky few that have felt that salt and sand caress your body and mind. Imagine not feeling that sensation, ever. I have it good, and I know it. You have it good, at least relative to most, if you are reading this—or if you can even read at all. Realize that. Soak it in. Appreciate it every chance you get. Appreciate the things you may consider small wins. In the long run, they are just about as small as the ocean.

-Houston Bailey (@BumpBailey)

Learn From Yourself

‘Learn From Yourself’ is a chapter from my book, “Looking at Forty: A Most Meaningful Year”

I read old journal entries today. They were not really that old, perhaps a couple of years, but they were old enough to give me both chuckles and insight. I use a very nice notebook to make outlines for this book. It has a flamingo on the cover and is one of my favorite things I own. I find it fitting that these old journal entries occupied the first several pages of this same notebook. Until today, I had never taken the time to go back and look at what insights these pages offered. I am not sure why today, of all days, I was curious to go back and read these. Perhaps I was looking for material or fodder for the writing I am attempting today. Whatever the reason, I am glad I did. There were some interesting thoughts written upon those earlier pages.

What I found most interesting was the similarities of thought between then and now. There were many common themes in those writings and the types of things I mull over today. Some were exactly the same, as a matter of fact. When I consider it, I am unsure if that is a positive or a negative. It could be a positive in that I have been focused on things I see as important for several years. On the negative side, it could mean that I have not figured these things out by now and am still being haunted by old ghosts. It will take me far longer to resolve this question with myself than it will to write this chapter, so do not expect an answer on the matter. I did see many accomplishments over the past couple of years as well. I have gotten better at things I wanted to. I also have let certain things and thoughts go that were bothering me back in those days. At the same time, I see some lapses. At that point, I was getting bogged down with certain ideas and thoughts that I have yet to overcome. I suppose I should see that as a challenge and therefore a positive. I would say that I am proud of what I read today. I understand that I was 36 or 37 years old at the time of the writing, but there was plenty of room for growth between then and now.

At 28, I was far too cool for any sort of journal entry. I knew of people who found it useful and beneficial to keep tabs on their daily thoughts and habits, but it did not suit my sensibility. At 28, I had far better things to concern myself with. I am not saying that I made the right decision in not keeping some sort of record. In fact, likely quite the opposite. When we are younger, we are dumber. That is a fact of life that we discover around this time. When I was in my early twenties, my friends and I kept some form of documentation through videotaping various excursions and conversations and nights on the town. I have recently gone back and watched these tapes and I can tell you they are not the same as a journal entry. Many of my actions on the tapes were done specifically because there was recording happening. There were not a lot of deep thoughts or in-depth questions or anything of the like. Those recordings seemed to be for others, not for me.

At 39, I suppose I have a new form of journal. My new form is my attempt at a book. When you think about it, that is what this is. It is a journal of the year before I turn 40. When I think of it that way, I am even happier with the progress. I have made a few attempts in recent years at keeping a journal, and I have not had much luck. Like the entries I read this morning, they tend to die out after a week or so. I have been keeping this up, the writing of the book, for about ten months, by far the longest attempt at a project I have undertaken and stuck with. I also hope that more people will read these words than have read my previous attempts at documenting my life, meaning more than one. This form of journal has benefited me in great ways. It has allowed me to open up and write about things I would not typically talk about to others. That is a good feeling that I recommend to all who have the opportunity. Being open to having other people read your work and have a glimpse into your thoughts and questions and worries is a major form of relief. At 39, I also see the benefit of looking back. While most of us have a goal of continual progression, it may be difficult to accomplish without knowing where you started. We all need waypoints, and without proof of those, it is tough to progress with any confirmation.

Progress is something we all need. It is a driver and a guide for where we want to go. The insights that today’s readings provided me were priceless. I was surprised at times, disappointed at others, but happy with what I witnessed. I now know that I am a better person today than I was when those words were written. I also know that I have some work to do, and that there is nothing wrong with that. I urge us all to have some form of documentation of that movement. It is tough to get to where you want to go without knowing where you came from. Hell, it is impossible. So write, record, photograph, do something. But even more importantly, go back and evaluate your progress over time. If necessary, adjust your goals and your focus. Memories are priceless, preserve them. That is what I did two years ago and what I am doing today. I look forward to what I will read two years from now.

-Houston Bailey (@BumpBailey)