I considered making a business card for myself.
You know, one that would have all the stuff I do. So I typed it all out. And it turns out, I’d have to reduce the font size to 0.0003 points, or expand the card to 37 cubic yards.
We have roles, y’all.
But there’s got to be one that stands out. That defines you, as much as you want a role to define you. At least, be the color you color with. A writing prompt in that book 300 Writing Prompts takes on this issue. And with help from my flying friend, Jeffrey, I took it on. (He doesn’t have wings, but he did sit next to me on the plane.)
He picked out this prompt:
Think about the various roles you play in your life. If you had to give up all but one, which one would you keep?
One of my roles should be to keep my roles straight. Most, I like. Down to one? I’d pick my role as a dad. In my life, I’ve loved being a writer, a worker, a son, brother, husband, friend, student, boyfriend, mentor, stocker, concierge, and coach.
Being a dad has snapped me into a heightened sense of self.
To accept what I can be – and live with what I can’t. To provide attention and acceptance, not worry about opulence and wealth. To be accountable and present, not try for perfection. To grasp that my kids will see what I do more than hear what I say.
And that being a dad is 24/7.
I ask myself if I died doing this, what would my kids think? whenever I do stuff. What will my kids think? What will the world think of my kids? That puts me in the best places. And keeps me out of the worst.
All the other roles I play feed directly into that of being a dad.
Decisions are dad-driven. Actions are dad-esque. Humor is decidedly dad. (Hey, they used to think I was funny. And although I can’t choose my legacy, I can do the things that I hope will contribute to the one I hope for.
E is for End-of-your-career awards
F is for Frank, my uncle
H is for ✊🏻 haiku (my quarantine journal)
L is for learn
P is for purify your mindset
Q is for quarterback