Stripped

In the spring of 2004, I was making a little over $75,000 per year working as corporate counsel. During the work week, I was lucky if I got home in time to bathe my kids and tuck them in bed. I spent Saturdays and Sundays with the kids. My desire to spend time with them negated my spending too much time on writing, music, and other personal pursuits. As a result, and after much contemplation and worry, I left that job and became a teacher. My salary decreased by one-third. Soon thereafter, a major home repair swiped $4,000 from the security blanket. A few months after that, the mom’s minivan was totaled by Bambi, so add a car payment where once there was none. Add the incredible mess my Jeep was in, and subtract another $4,000. All of a sudden, the one-third decrease in salary doesn’t seem so manageable. I had much more time to spend with the kids, though, and that made everything ok.

Throughout all this, I journeyed through the maze of self, setting priorities, establishing and abandoning and re-setting more firmly my convictions. I learned much about who I am and what I need. I decided to discover my personal purpose and to pursue it. We all have purposes. One purpose I serve and will forever strive to perfect is that of being a daddy. Another is to become and remain a better son, brother, and friend to others. Another is to be a good steward of what is given to me to manage. Arguably, of course, the first two purposes can be subsets of that last one. That said, you now know where I found myself: what has been given to me and how shall I proceed in order to manage it well?

I can work construction. Specifically, I can refinish hardwood floors, roof a house, work in drywall and carpentry, and service plumbing works and some electrical. I can perform many auto repair services on my own. I can play the piano, write music, and even sing a little. I can conduct legal research, draft legal documents, and put together and argue a case. I can teach. I can write well, which is a dying art, if you ask me. I can manage a restaurant. I can manage a human resources department. I can build amazing forts and even design and build great towns for the Hot Wheels set. What type of steward of these talents and abilites have I been?

Without boring you with too much background, suffice it to say that I am an attorney because I can be one. What I wanted to do was to continue studying music and writing and be the starving artist/teacher, content with who and what I am instead of pursuing what others thought was best for me. I didn’t do that. The reasons are simple, and how it happened is easy to understand. I’ll share it if you want, or you can wait for the day it shows up here.

Meanwhile, I have two unfinished novels on the shelf. I have written 62 pages in one and 131 in the other. I have 14 songs that should be taken in a studio and recorded so that I can let them go for whatever is destined for them. I need to return to the things that I have buried. You may not read the Bible, much less believe it, but the parable of the talents is one that transcends religious dogma. The parable tells of three servants who each received "talents" (money) from their master, with each tasked to manage the talents until the master returned. Upon the master’s return, one servant, scared of losing the master’s money, had hidden the talent in order to preserve it. The master was upset that the servant had not managed well, so the master took the talent from the servant. I have set aside the spade, dusted off the mason jars, and prayed that it is not too late.