I was invincible many years ago when I was so much stronger

Where did you go?
I would say that to myself often
Like I was dressing up, for a coffin to lie down in
I can't say I know
I was overcome in the distance
I was lost in my own incidents, in my mind
Were you calling me, from outside of a dream?

I wanna live, I wanna love you a little longer
I was invincible many years ago when I was so much stronger
I wanna smile like a letter from an old friend
My arms are wide as oceans
How I've missed you, and feelin' good to be alive

Wherever I'd go, there were whispers in the vestibules
Reminders of my time with you on my own
It's hard to know when your mind declares a war on you
Like the thoughts inside my skull would do like I was blind
And I'm sure I saw the signs but didn't know

I wanna live, I wanna love you a little longer
I was invincible many years ago when I was so much stronger
I wanna smile like a letter from an old friend
My arms are open oceans
How I've missed you, and feelin' good to be alive

I need a spark
I need a positive charge
Plug it into my veins and make me love this life again
I need a spark
I need a positive charge
Plug it into my brain and make me love my life again

I wanna live, I wanna love you a little longer
I was invincible many years ago when I was so much stronger
I wanna smile like a letter from an old friend
My arms are open oceans
How I've missed you, and feelin' good to be alive

And it's good to be alive
(How I've missed you, how I've missed you)
And it's good to be alive
(How I've missed you, how I've missed you)
Oh-oh, oh
(How I've missed you, how I've missed you)
And it's good to be alive

STEP BACK WHEN THE SPIRIT COMES

Expecting perfection
Leaves a lot to ignore

JUST BREATHE

The average person says goodbye 8-10 times a day.

It ends our text messages,
wraps up our phone conversations,
closes our letters
and chases a quick dap and bro hug
like a Bloody Mary and a beer back…

Just about every single time we utter that seven-letter word, there is an unspoken agreement
that there will be a corresponding hello somewhere down the line.

It might be in an hour, a day, a year or a chance encounter at a Pick ‘n Save deli counter decades removed – but we always assume it will be there.

They will be there.

 Inevitably the day comes where the farewell we share is our last.

If we’re lucky, blessed, we know when that time is at hand
and are present in that grace-filled moment.

We soak in all the sounds and smells,
share all the love in our souls and
take pictures in our minds that we will
replay over-and-over in our hearts for
the rest of our days.

If we’re lucky, they will do the same and at the end,
their eyes will meet ours and give us the greatest,
most selfless, gracious gift one can ever give…
allowing us to be the last thing they ever see.

It’s impossible to convey the enormity of the gratitude for that gift.

There are no words right enough, no thank you gift big enough to ever close even close to that intention…
All we can do is to honor them, love them, remember them
and never take our goodbyes for granted.

GIVE IT AWAY

Some stranger somewhere still remembers you.

A single instant, a quick glance or a passing gesture that you never thought anything about has echoed through their life like a familiar voice calling us home.

Wouldn’t it be cool to know who they are, what you did, where you did it, when and why it mattered?

Could there be a better gift than learning how many people have you on that priceless list?

How many are on yours?

There’s an old woman in Austria whose eyes locked on mine from a Salzburg bus.

She looked at me like a mother of a graduate crossing the stage – overflowing with pride in the achievement and filled with the melancholy that comes when that child walks from that stage into another chapter of their life. A softly shutting screen door.

She closed her eyes, slowly put her hands to her mouth and blew me a kiss.

It made the kids standing at the bus stop in front of me turn around, wondering just who I was and what just happened.

And then she was gone… but I’ve never forgotten her.

If you are lucky like me, there are more than one.

Like the blonde-haired Parisian girl sitting in the back of a small, red Renault whose eyes followed me as the car rounded the corner in front of the brasserie. A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as she disappeared into the forever.

Like the denim and leather clad biker in the Lawrence Center cafeteria that shared his dream of getting old with deep laugh lines surrounding the eyes on his wind-swept face to an audience that would likely never see that in their futures.

Like the anonymous soul that wrapped a desperately needed lifeline in an ivory-colored, linen-blend envelope that slid through the mail slot last week.

These minute actions and reactions don’t take time or thought or practice…
they just need to be given away.

And the more we give away, the longer that list of strangers becomes.
In the end, those strangers will all become friends.

So let’s give it all away and have the faith to know that we’ll get it back.

Make some no15e.

Look at the stars

see how they shine for you.

010101

HELLO, MY NAME IS...

Have you ever really thought about your name?

Not in a “that-which-we-call-a-rose” type of way and
not about who you may be named after –
but what you’re called
and by who.

It’s funny how names stay the same but what we answer to changes?
The nicknames, labels and terms of endearments we recognize are snapshots of who we were and a reminder of the people who made us what we are.

“Notter” means someone from 234 Broadway in Eau Claire, Wisconsin is calling.
“Dan-O” isn’t an homage to Hawaii 5-0, it was Grandma Nott asking me if I wanted to go to the dime store and pick out a comic book.
“Dantana” = my dear friend and mentor is close by.
“Daniel Joseph” always meant big trouble with Mom.
“Asshole” … “Coach”… “Mr. Nott”…

 “Dad”

Each one makes me turn my head.
Each one describes a piece of my heart.
Each one is an old love letter in hidden away in a beat-up Air Jordan shoebox.

It goes the other way too…

Calling out for L Ray or Pumpis or Marietta or Mack Daddy or Joyful or Big Country is like a signal from a lighthouse, a reminder from the past that the connection is alive and well in the present.

Who is calling you?
Will you answer?
 

Make no15e.

WAVES

Sound is touch at a distance.
Vibrations that travel through the air and leave a literal and figurative impression on our bodies.
Some of those waves leave marks on our souls…
through our songs.

There are nearly 100 million of them in the world today.
Different styles and genres and themes and meanings –
there’s a song for any of the 27 human emotions we experience in our lives.
And each one of us is blessed with our own soundtrack, a personal mixtape that is as unique as our fingerprints. But the high notes bring us together –  lifting our spirits and the hair on our arms.

The pulsing heartbeat of “Where the Streets Have No Name”.
“Scar Tissue’s” delicate invitation.
The cascading solo on “Like a Stone.”
The crescendo of “The Backseat.”
The first nine seconds of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” that changed the world…

You can hear God in those notes.

Waves of possibility and joy and release and nostalgia that cut through the world’s cacophony of jarring, discordant tumult while we stand on the beach in awe.

You can feel the possibility.
You can revel in the wonder.
You can believe again.

Who sings the words that take you back?
What are the songs that push you forward?

Make some no15e.

GIVE ME A SIGN

Preach Earl!

BITS AND PIECES

Your black, engraved, Mont Blanc rollerball pen.
Her postcard-sized, lilac envelope.
A platinum, beveled ring.
The dog-eared copy of Kiss Destroyer from 1978.

On the surface, they are just objects –

The simple things that accumulate over the space and time of our lives.
The literal and figurative materials that populate landfills, cram donation bins and occupy eBay listings.
The stuff the rest of the world might toss aside like an empty gum wrapper.

But not to us.

They are the priceless bits and pieces that remind us of the people and places that have filled our small piece of the universe with meaning, love and hope.
The treasures we keep in the safest of places, so we always know they’re there.
The totems and talismans we take wherever we go.

Who and what are with you?
Make some no15e.

WORDS TO LIVE BY

No matter what you are looking for…

ARE YOU HOLDING YOUR BREATH?

Pull it out, turn it up, what's your favorite song?
This is one of mine, I've been crying to it since I was young
I know there's someone out there feelin
Just like I feel I know they're waiting up
I know they're waiting to heal

And I've been holding my breath
Are you holding your breath
For too many years to count?

And we waited for the sirens
That never come
And we only write by the moon
Every word handwritten

And to ease the loss of youth
And how many years I've missed you
Pages plead forgiveness
Every word handwritten

Let it out, let me in, take a hold of my hand
There's nothing like another soul
That's been cut up the same
And did you want to drive
Without a word in between?

I can understand
You need a minute to breathe
And to sew up the seams
After all this defeat

And…

326. 3132. 365.

There comes a time when enough is enough – like when the scale dial goes around the second time.

326. A number no one wants to see. A sign no one can ignore.
It’s the fork in the road.
The point of no return.
The moment of truth. 

It doesn’t matter how we got there.
The only thing that does is what we do next.

Do we summon the courage to take the leap of faith or move away from edge?
Break free from the ties that bind or succumb to the weight of fear?
Surrender and strive for something special or settle for less?
Run toward the light or fall deeper into the dark? 

I ran.

3,132 miles so far…
nowhere in particular, just away from that space and time and number -
toward something better.

And just when the destination felt closer, the finish line moved further away.
365. Days to determine the future, cope with the pressure and find meaning and security.

So, I’ve kept running.
I’ll keep running.

Relying on the faith, focus, stamina and determination that has built up to keep me going forward,
to where and who I’m supposed to be. It’s can be a lonely, scary, daunting road. The people and signs and shouts along the way make all the difference.

Are you ready to move?
Which direction are you headed?
Do you want to go together?
Let’s go together.
Let’s make some noise.

FEEL THE WORD

I could have
I should have
I could have flown you know

I will

OPEN THE VEIN

There are over 20 different ways to cry (and countless more reasons to).

There’s the “laugh so hard at Rory Schovel’s poop jokes the tears are streaming down my face” howl.
The “hitch in the breath, lower lip trembling, nose dripping with snot” blubbering.
The “fist through the wall in burning frustration” wail… and so on.

in a good year, we’ll experience a few of those jags.
A single Kleenex to dry the cheeks and eyes –
providing a quick release of all the joy, rage, fear, grief and gratitude inside.

But those aren’t the tears we’re making no15e about today.
We’re talking about crying.

What comes out when the soul claws its way to the surface of the heart, past all the fear and life and logical thoughts, and lets go a tsunami of 100%, purely distilled tears.

When our deepest pockets and darkest corners are flushed out for the first time in years for the wounds heal.

Where the vein in the middle of the forehead pops out and throbs.
When that vein emerges, you know you are really crying.

We never forget when those tears fall… where we were, what we were doing.

June 12, 2004, NYC
July 1, 2012, Northview Rd in Waukesha.
November 24, 2019, finish line at the Philadelphia Marathon.
Today. Here. Now.

When is the last time that vein opened up in your head and heart and washed it all away?
Make some no15e.

I'LL BE YOU

Thoughts from the end of the food pantry assembly line

8:53. It’s about time you took this opportunity to give back.

9:01 Sure, I’ll load the pallets.
4 boxes vertical. 3 horizontal. Repeat. Got it.

These boxes are heavier than I thought.
The heft can’t be from the two small bags of pasta,
it has to be the generic canned goods.
Regardless, it’s not much to last a family for a week.
That’s what each box is –  a family in need.
66 million were packed here last year.

It’s safe to say all of them would kill to be getting paid their full salary to not work for a year.
Stop worrying. If you really have faith, then believe.
Real fear is an eviction notice with nowhere to go, a positive test, a negative balance.

9:21. Almost two and a half hours to go.
Maybe it’s the other way around.
Maybe true peace of mind isn’t found by looking at what’s in the checking account.
Maybe it’s about love and trust and faith and love…
the stuff you can’t put a price on.
The stuff that is so easily taken for granted.

The group is setting a pretty good pace – definitely going to be sore later.
More twisting and turning than a Six Flags roller coaster.
Probably should have hung up this shirt jacket.
It’s hotter than expected.

That’s ok, service like this shouldn’t be comfortable.
This is nowhere close to the reality these families live every minute of every day.
Remember this when you walk out the door –
how you worst day and your worst fear pales in comparison to what these people are going through.

The people that have the least give the most.

9:23. Felt like longer than that.
Packers gave that game away.
Who kicks a field goal on the 8-yard line?
Can’t have 25+ years of MVP/HOF QBs and only win two Super Bowls…

This is real-life Tetris.
Get the edges of these boxes as close to plum as the cardboard and warped pallet wood allow.
It’s satisfying to have a job without an inbox. Just an assignment.
A goal. When it’s done, it’s done.
Had a job like that once, piling one bag of water softener salt on top of the other.
What were the names of those Farm & Fleet people again? Terry? Kevin?  Justin?  Ron?
The kid that I picked up every Saturday? Bill? Wonder what those guys are doing.

10:41. Getting closer.
Why give the time if all you’re going to do is keeping counting it down?
Kinda defeats the purpose don’t you think?

They would trade places with you in a second.

You’ll find your answers here. Believe that.

The people that have the least give the most.

The girl on the tape gun in front of me is good. Never lets the tape get stuck on the roll.
That always happens to me.
Make sure to keep up to not slow her down.
Sorry for the backup. Take two boxes at a time and things will get back on track.

 10:42. Seriously?
Forget not eating meat on Fridays… this is a better “sacrifice” for Lent. Come here every Friday.
Maybe it will inspire you to go even further down the line, to truly and literally feed the poor.
Keep saying yes.
Keep pushing yourself further and you’ll get right where you need to be.

It’s good you are finally doing this.
It was one of the goals you write down when everything happened in November.
Crazy how much time has already gone by.
Whatifthingsdontworkout? Whatifnoonecalls? Whatifthere’snotenoughforschoolorlifeorretirementorcobra?
Oh, yee of little faith.
You are right where you are supposed to be.

The people that have the least give the most.
The harder the work, the lower the salary.

 11:03. It seems like the time should go faster

It was something you didn’t want. Why do you care?

You bring him here. Never too early to show them how lucky we’ve got it.
Might already be too late. Maybe it’s never too late.
They’d probably have him packing cans.
Not sure if he’d hold up breaking down the cardboard or making boxes.

 Thanks for the water man.
It’s cold and refreshing like the perfectly timed breeze on a summer afternoon run.
Exactly what you need to keep going.

The people that have the least give the most.

11:56. Six more and it’s a wrap.
1,232 boxes. Give yourselves a pat on the back.
That doesn’t feel right. The other group probably did the same.
So will the two groups that come in the afternoon.
And the ones on Saturday and Sunday and Monday and …
It never stops.
The need never ends for you to stand up, walk in their shoes and be them.
So you can make a difference, make a statement
make no15e.

300 DAYS

You can do a lot in 300 days.

Develop a vaccine.
Travel to Mars.
Swim across the Pacific.
Conceive and deliver a child.

300 days.
An invitation to grow.
A chance to change direction.
An opportunity to breathe new life into life.

300 days.
A lifetime.
A moment.
A gift.

There are 300 days left in 2021.
7200 hours to figure things out,
take the next step,
hear the voice
and follow the call.

This is an invitation to come along for the ride -
spending that time to experience the experience,
see where the road leads and
make some no15 in the process.

Lace ‘em up and press play…
the first steps (re)start today.

SHINE ON

It’s the most basic of web pages.
No pop ups. No banner ads. Even the site title was hard to find.
Just a plain, white, well designed page –
its clean layout drawing the eye to a black and white picture of you and your son.

At first glance, it was a heartening reminder that you were still “the guy”-  
The Sultan.

The dude that seemed know everyone in town.
The person that always made room for one more at the bar.
The friend whose smile and attitude always brought light into a room.
The man who is passing all of that on to his son.

It was reassuring to see that time and distance and life had not dimmed such a bright spirit;
that the more things had changed, good things had stayed the same.

It was the headline that hit me like a harder than a Tyson left hook to the liver…
former Waushara Argus publisher dies unexpectedly at 49.

The words physically shoved me back from the screen, causing my brain and thoughts
to skip like the needle on an old, scratched record.

Nothing in the English language that can accurately describe that instant.

Dumbstruck. Staggered. Speechless. Floored. Dazed.
They are adjectives that convey pieces but cannot encompass the whole.
It was a moment that passed in an instant and went on forever.
Like life.

If we’re lucky. We all have a “Sultan”.
Whose light shines whether they are present or not.
Whose lessons and examples and stories are lived, shared and retold.  
Who always comes to mind when a certain song comes on the radio.

The song we share started as a joke -
a figurative smirk and literal shake of our collective heads at the state of music in 2001.
But today, parts of it feel and sound different now that you’re gone.

Wonder what you’re doin’. Imagine where you are.
There’re oceans in between us but that’s not very far.

Make some noise.

DON'T FORGET

The farther away it gets,
the harder it is to remember.

Reminiscing on the details –
what we were and did and wore,
who we were with,
where we went,
how we got there,
why…
grasping those details is like trying to grab a smoke ring.

Google “why we forget” and you’ll find thousands of pages
on the science on the biology of remembering -
how things are stored in the hippocampus, neo-cortex and the amygdala;
how thoughts decay like messages written in the sand
how we’re programmed to understand the world, not remember it.

As the specifics fade,
when all the particulars of our most magical, meaningful moments,
are stripped away,
what’s left are the 100% pure, uncut emotions
that have shaped us,
made us who we are.

Those feelings don’t live on in our brains,
they are stay alive in our hearts.

Record them.
Share them.
Cherish them.
Drink to them.
Make no15e.