How's your leadership?

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“Delay does not matter in eternity, but it is tragic in time.” — A Course in Miracles

Wayne could not find a legitimate reason why he awoke every day feeling anxious and stressed, other than the usual worry over being late. Late for work, late for school, late for an appointment, missing a deadline, wasting time and so on. Even as a young man he recalled being stressed about being late for school, missing a deadline for an assignment or lacrosse practice. It felt like time was killing him.

Many years since the days of his youth, Wayne now had a family of his own. “Life would be considerably easier if we did not always have to be somewhere on time,” he mumbled to himself as he was getting his daughters ready for their day. “Hey sweetie time to get up.”

“Daaad. I don’t want to get up,” Kylie, his nine-year-old daughter whined. “Chloe, make sure you brush your teeth.”
“Ugh. Okay,” Chloe replied.
“Abby, do you have your tennis racquet?”

“Yes, leave me alone!” Abby, his eleven-year-old daughter, screamed.

His wife usually took care of the morning routine with the kids, but today Wayne was filling in for her and doing his best not to feel overwhelmed. He barked commands at his kids, “Are you dressed? Did you eat breakfast? Did you brush your teeth? Don’t forget to pack your lunch. What about sunscreen? You must put sunscreen on. It’s going to be hot today! Make sure you have your water bottle...Okay, let’s head to the car.”

“I’m going dad!” Abby retorted.

“Thanks,” he replied. Getting the kids to camp on time was a big mission which seemed more like a mission impossible. Adding to the tension of getting his kids to camp on time he had an appointment immediately afterward which did not make his morning any less stressful!

The more his daughters grumbled in response to his requests the more his impatience grew. His blood pressure was coming to a boil. Then something hit him. Pausing he mumbled to himself, “Shit. Time is killing me!”

He pondered what he had just said, “Could time really be killing me?” He mumbled again. 

"A quiet and modest life brings more joy than a pursuit of success bound with constant unrest.” — Albert Einstein

Wayne and Betsie spent the rest of the afternoon in Burlap and Bean enjoying their coffee and conversation. A group of regulars from the Townhome Retirement Community across the street arrived for their usual afternoon card game.

One gentleman in the group had a loud boisterous laugh. His laugh was so loud it caused Wayne to jump out of his seat. Eventually it became infectious and Wayne would chuckle every time he heard the guy’s laugh.

"My entire life I relentlessly chased success. I studied it, fought for it and competed for it,” Wayne continued his conversation with Betsie. “I mindlessly chased after it time and again to be left with the feeling as though I came up short. In a way I was driving myself crazy pursuing it. I would often display these traits of assholeness which were incited by my mindless and restless pursuit of success. Despite making more money every year and receiving numerous promotions I felt as though I always arrived just short of the finish line of success. So, I continued my pursuit finding myself feeling even more lost, frustrated, and tired. Something had to change.”

“So, what did you do?”

“I stopped chasing it.”

“Stopped chasing success? I’m confused.”

“Don’t be. I stopped chasing success and decided instead to say, fuck success!” Wayne proclaimed.

“What did you just say?” Betsie replied with a look of surprise and shock.

“I said fuck success! I’d rather be happy!” He firmly stated with a grin.

“Our greatest fear is sitting in silence with our own thoughts.” —

Eckhart Tolle

It was a Thursday afternoon in June 2017, Wayne and his childhood friend Tyler enjoyed lunch at their favorite sushi restaurant Yuki Sushi. When not on the road traveling Wayne took the time to re-connect with friends over coffee or lunch. Engaging in conversation they enjoyed several sushi rolls loaded with wasabi which made their nostrils flare and eyes water. “Inconspicuously taking control of my life influencing my decisions and behavior it overwhelmed my ability to focus and be present in the moment,” Wayne explained to his friend. “Tugging at my soul this psychotic mental dance became very tiresome sucking the life out of me! Every moment of every day I yearned for it while pushing my loved ones aside to get more.”

“What are you taking about?” Tyler asked in a slight tone of annoyance.

“There was no debating it, I was addicted. It defined me and validated my existence.”

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?” Tylor asked trying to understand what Wayne was talking about.

“Dozens of times each hour and hundreds of times throughout each day I was in desperate need of more. I was searching for some sort of salvation in each hit. I lost sight of everything. I didn’t know who I was any longer.”

“Are you trying to tell me you have an opioid addiction or something?”

“No!” Wayne gasped. “I should clarify. I know that I’m an addict and even wager that you’re an addict.”

“Come on Wayne. What are you saying? You know I had problems in the past, but I’ve moved on.”

“All I am saying is that we are all addicts of a different sort these days and I am not talking about drugs or alcohol. This is entirely different and quite possibly worse because it is so unassuming.”