Reflecting on a month that was truly curse-worthy.

Do you ever find yourself being “over” adulting? Me too.

You can grind through pain to achieve your gains. You can grow thicker skin for better mental, emotional, and relational health. You can wear your battle scars with pride and use them to help others. You can lean in, press on, and fight the good fight. You can even choose to avoid conflict and be at peace with the world around you, but inevitably …life likes to shake you up like an Etch A Sketch.

February 2022 erased a lot of people’s design on life.

I am blessed. No matter how bad of a day, month, or year I’m having, I am acutely aware how much better off I am than countless others on this planet. I’m sharing these reflections not as a self-indulgent pity party, but rather, in hopes that my first world problems—and the self assessments they inspired—may help you in your adulting.

The Accident

February began with the momentous event of our son packing up the car and heading out to start life on his own in another state. We hugged, cried, and waved goodbye to him as he drove away—praying for safe travels and that we had equipped him well enough to be, “part of the solution and not part of the problem.” He would make mistakes. He would learn. We would be there to help and cheer him on.

At 6:30 the next morning, he called from the side of the interstate sitting next to a totaled car. One moment he was full of the excitement that comes in the earliest moments of independence. The next, a blown front tire pulled him across lanes into a roadside post, which led to an end-over-end pommel horse vault routine.

It was miraculous that he walked away. It was fortunate that no other vehicles were around. It was heart warming that five early morning travelers—who did not witness the accident—stopped to ensure he was OK, helped him collect his scattered personal belongings, and waited with him for help to arrive.

Reflections:

• Life is precious and can never be taken for granted.
• Best laid plans, preparation, and proper execution can still result in “failure”.
• If you survive it, you can learn from it.

The Return

I was traveling abroad on business at the beginning of 2020 when awareness of COVID was in its infancy and the pandemic was not yet truly global.

There were no tests or vaccines. Masks and social distancing weren’t implemented yet. I returned home for a proactively planned 14-day quarantine which turned into two years. In February 2020 I had what I thought was a cold that hung on longer than usual—with a fair amount of fatigue thrown in for good measure.

Subsequent negative tests and positive antibodies confirmed I was a COVID survivor. Respecting and observing all preventative measures since, I have lived in good health (apart from some tough allergy days here in Austin’s windy Hill Country).

Fast forward to Valentine’s Day 2022 and I spent it bundled up in a semi-fetal position with all of the above plus labored breathing as I battled round two of this blight on global history.

Reflections:

• COVID sucks.
• Showing people you love them should be an every day thing.
• I owe my bride a date night with extra flowers and chocolate. (x2)

The Attack

In 2018, I fell in love with Ukraine and its amazing people. I walked cobblestone streets and admired colorful architecture (that earned Lviv the nicknames ‘Little Paris of Eastern Europe’ & ‘Hidden Gem of Ukraine’). I broke bread, laughed, sung, and danced with my Ukrainian work family, and my Western paradigm on Eastern Europe was changed forever.

I fell in love with Ukraine all over again when I visited Kyiv for the first time last summer. I walked for miles through parks, historic cathedrals, Independence Square, and more. I was enamored with Kyiv’s culture, history, breathtaking beauty, and how well Ukrainians in the capitol city wore freedom. I also became keenly aware of the mounting Russian forces at the border, and I solemnly paid respects to the thousands of faces and names displayed on Kyiv’s Wall of Remembrance for all who lost their lives protecting Ukrainian sovereignty.

On February 24, the Russo-Ukrainian “conflict”—a daily reality for my friends and coworkers since 2014—escalated into well-publicized war when Russia invaded with the largest military attack in Europe since World War II. My friends and work family in Kyiv, Lviv, Kharkiv, and Odesa were immediately in harm’s way, and our daily communications and focus changed overnight.

At the time of this writing, the war on Ukraine has resulted in nearly 20,000 deaths, 3 million people displaced, 2,000 buildings destroyed, and an estimated $120M in property damage (all rising).

Reuters, March 14, 2022

I, like so many others (not living with actual bombs exploding around me), have supported, advocated, and promoted #standwithukraine every day since the war began—reaching out to my people there from my digital trench here.

As it turns out, my job became a casualty of this war. I’m saddened by that, but I will find a new role with another company and will always be a cheerleader for the one who needs to focus on more important things than brand and inbound marketing right now. What can’t be replaced is what was violently stolen from those I care deeply about. 💙💛

Reflections:

• Life and freedom are more important than job security.
• My bad days pale in comparison to all living in war, abject poverty, and social injustice.
• Fast empathy and reaction clicks while scrolling aren’t good enough.

There are several other personal stories I could share that inspired colorful language in February, but the real meaning behind “F-bombs” are the bottom line takeaway priorities I endorse (now more than ever) and am compelled to share with you here: Faith, Family & Fellowship.

Believe, even if you can’t see it yet.

Family transcends blood and boundaries.

Make time for you, but intentionally gather with and lean into your people.

Love and live well. (And to all of my Ukrainian brothers and sisters, ✊🙏.)

See you next time.

J