As part of our 30 day blog challenge, tonight’s topic was supposed to be about being a champion. I thought it would be a good fit given the BCS National Championship game is being played tonight. Truth be told, however, the topic is actually quite lame.

I was going to write about the experiences I remember as a child of winning league championships in football. I played four years for the Boys Club in Miami, and we won our league championship three years in a row. I was then going to transition to the blog I wrote about my son’s recreation league basketball team winning the championship a couple of years ago, and how watching him win felt better and was so much more rewarding than when I was his age and playing ball.

Still, as I sat down to write, I just didn’t “feel it”. I just didn’t find that groove I thought would come so naturally for me and this subject. That’s probably because my mind is still lost at sea. Lee and I just returned from our annual voyage on The Rock Boat, and it was such an excellent vacation that’s left me on such an amazing high. It’s not something I come off easily - nor would I want to - and I am still feeling blissful about the stellar memories I’ve just recently etch into my brain.

So I am going to completely ignore today’s topic and instead just rattle off some things I learned aboard this year’s cruise. At first, I was going to compile a numbered list. The more I thought about it, however, the more I figured I would just list thought after thought and see where we end up.

With that being said, I present to you my thoughts, observations, and random mind-clutter from The Rock Boat XI. (Warning: These memories are all over the place - happy, sad, funny, and weird - and go way past eleven)

• A drunken person will tend to do stupid things. A collection of drunken people will tend to do really, really stupid things.
• It’s okay to be late to the party. For years now, I’ve felt like I was missing out on something with regards to what my friends were saying. Finally, I had my breakthrough moment: Will Hoge is *bleeping* amazing.
• If I had to do it all again (career-wise), I’d make sure I ended up working for Sixthman.
• Smuggling booze on board DRAMATICALLY reduces the final total on your sail and sign card account (just say’n).
• There are guys on The Rock Boat that CAN walk around with no shirts on and then there are guys who can’t. I fall into the latter.
• Being able to just hang out, have a conversation, and share a drink with a musical artist is, value-wise, worth every last penny of whatever it costs to book a cabin. It’s all about the experience, people.
• Hearing two performers sing in perfect harmony must be what angels sound like.
• Live music can unite strangers, heal old wounds, give hope to the saddened, and reduce a grown man to tears. If you don’t believe in magic, it’s probably because you’re not listening.
• The phrase, “You don’t want to grab a guy’s junk via proxy” is one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard uttered in a bathroom. (Don’t ask …. you had to be there).
• Cap guns can be quite the attention getter.
• It’s possible to get goose-bumps on top of your goose-bumps.
• The age of digital photography is equally convenient as it is dangerous.
• Do not drink tequila that comes from a plastic bottle.
• Social media continues to make the world a smaller and smaller place. I was asked three times in line if I was @danaCreative. This was both kinda’ cool and kinda’ creepy, but mostly cool.
• Not sitting in the front row as Toby Lightman sings her song ‘Front Row’ is akin to watching the girl you’ve been crushing on kiss another guy.
• The idea of relaxing in a hot tub is great until you think about everyone else who’s been in the hot tub. Two words: Petri dish.
• Watching Aslyn sing ‘Wally’ on the Serenity Deck as the sun was setting and the waves were her back drop was literally breath taking. I think time stood still for a moment.
• It’s humbling to be able to ‘be there’ for friends. The beauty about the music community in which Lee and I partake is we get to interact with so many wonderful people, and every now and then we get to experience something deep and real.
• God doesn’t send memos. He simply presents you with a situation and challenges you to take action.
• There are few things in life that are better than Rock Boat pizza at 3:00 AM
• Inspiration is all around us at all time. Sometimes it’s simply a matter of just stopping and taking notes of what it is you’re seeing, feeling and experiencing.
• Sister Hazel still is, and forever will be, simply amazing.
• It is possible to meet someone in person for the first time after having known them for over four years but having it feel as if you’ve known them your whole life. I can’t put into words how amazing that feeling is.
• God works in mysterious ways, specifically in lyrics.
• God is a music fan.

I am sure there will be many, many more I’ll remember in the coming days, but this will have to do for now. Given this was supposed to be an entry about being a champion or being the best, I hope I didn’t fail with my ‘from the hip’ approach.

As for being the best, I can say without equivocation the team at Sixthman is the absolute best at creating experiences that will last a lifetime. They are the best at what they do, and they make it all seem so effortless. There’s no putting into words the positive impact this fun group of people have on the lives of others, and when it comes to creating something uniquely special, Sixthman definitely comes in first place.

Discretionary warning. The author of tonight’s blog is under the influence of several ounces of beer (he lost count) and several slices of pizza (Otis was buying). He’d like to apologize in advance for any excessive drivel that may be posted. Viewer discretion is advised.

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So. Tonight’s topic is balance. I was fretting because I realized I couldn’t possible write anything interesting (let alone funny and witty) about the inner ear. Then I remembered there are two parts of the ear that support the function of balance: the semicircular canals and the vestibule. What’s really funny - well, funny for someone who’s a twelve year-old boy like me - is that when you say vestibule, you can be referring to one of three things. There’s the vestibule of the ear, which refers to the central part of the labyrinth, as used in the vestibular system. There’s the nasal vestibule, which is the anatomical name for the nostrils. And then there’s the vulval vestibule, which is the anatomical name for the posterior of the labia manora. In summary, when you say vestibule, you’ve got an ear, nose and hooch situation going.

(I told you I was drunk when I wrote this).

Anyways, that’s not at all the type of balance I’m talking about. The question for today is what brings balance into your life? What keeps you sane? What keep you grounded? What keeps you from going off the deep end when things get crazy?

My answer can be described by two simple words: Laundry.

Yep. Laudry. Not so much the cleaning of clothes, but rather the folding of them. I love, love, love folding laundry. Yes, I know, I’m weird (and drunk, might I add). But seriously, there is something Zen-like about taking a basket full of warm, Lavender Serenity scented clothes (even the name is relaxing), and compiling little piles of folded freshness on my bed. It’s an exercise that serves a functional purpose AND clears my mind all at once.

Hey, laugh all you want at my OCD quirk, but I’m telling you, nothing sooths the soul quite like the folding of clothes. It’s one of the rare times I allow myself to be meticulous about being meticulous. I have piles for my white under shirts. I have piles for my regular t-shirts. I have piles for my t-shirts that used to be regular t-shirts but have now been down-graded to the pile in my closet that I use for household chores like mowing the lawn and washing the car. Still, they’re in a pile on their own …. right next to my polo shirts and my wife’s unmentionables.

But in all seriousness, I’d probably lose my mind without my laundry activities. With work pressures, social pressures, commitments to charities and volunteerism, parenting requirements, etc., the one true thing in my life that allows me to absolve my brain of the sensory overload is laundry. It’s my personal sanctuary. It’s my escape from everything else in my life.

So, as I sit here in a feeble attempt to sober up and with an ever so minute sense of sobriety overcoming my buzz (I still can’t feel my toes), I would like for you to consider what it is in your life that offers you balance and serenity, and what can you do to make it a more frequent part of your every day?

And if you ever have mounds of laundry you need folded, just give me a call. You can repay me in beer.

I approach this blog with trepidation. Following yesterday’s entry, it is obvious there is very little about my life and my day-to-day that is routine.

Perhaps that’s a good thing? Perhaps that is a blessing in disguise? Not having the same thing to do every day. Not having the same actions to perform like some robot on automatic pilot. Isn’t variety supposed to be the spice of life?

I guess there is some truth to that philosophy, but as I wrote yesterday, lack of discipline begets lack of routine which, in the long run, begets lack of accomplishment.

Still, there really is not one thing I can think of that is routine in my every day. I guess you can say pulling the covers closer to my body as I mumble the words, “I love you, too” to my wife as she heads out the door for her hour-long commute to work is routine. (I am a sunnavabitch, aren’t I?) I suppose fixing myself an obscene amount of coffee every morning as I try to get my brain out of first gear is routine. I would assume in the most abstract of cases checking Facebook, Twitter and ESPN.com every morning before I decide to tackle my real work can be considered a routine.

In all seriousness, however, structure in my day is as fleeting as the breeze.

There is one exception. It is something that, technically, can be categorized as dynamic, but the fact I get to do it every day - okay, almost every day - fills me with happiness, joy, and a riveting sense of completion. I’m talking about picking up my kids in the afternoon.

In order to understand what I mean, I first need to provide some background information. I’m divorced and my kids have primary residence with their mother. My ex and I are in the small minority of split-households with no concrete or court mandated schedule regarding our kids. Quite literally, we play every day by ear. For the most part, I pick them up every afternoon following school. Still, given how varied my social schedule can get, there is nothing really set in stone. My ex and I usually work out high level details the week before and coordinate on a day-to-day basis regarding the kids.

That being said, I so thoroughly look forward to picking up my kids and sharing the afternoon with them. I get to ask them how their day went, what new and interesting things they learned in school, and what’s going on in general with their lives. I get to help them with their homework and school projects. I get to cook them dinner and show off to them as we sit together and watch Jeopardy. It’s not always 100% like that, but it is a part of the responsibilities I need to complete as a dad, and it’s enough for me to call a routine.

The more I think about it, the more I know how lost I would be without that component in my life. Is it always convenient? No. Is it always fun? Not exactly. Still, it’s fills my life with purpose and meaning, and when I see the accomplishments of my children, be it in the classroom or on the athletic field, it fills me with such an incredible feeling of love that cannot adequately be put into words.

And love is the most appropriate word to describe this routine. I love getting to pick up my kids. I love being a dad to them. I love being in love with those two little people who are closer to being in college than they are to being in diapers. I know I have to cherish these moments. I need to absorb every ounce of emotion my time with my kids generates. I need to completely immerse myself in my role as father, educator, philosopher, counselor, and consultant to my kids. Their childhood only comes around once, and before I know it they’ll both be off to college, pursuing their dreams and taking their own steps into adulthood.

I’m afraid that when that time comes, my only routine will be to sit around and miss my kids.

It’s tough to go back to work following vacation. It’s always tough to go back to school after an extended hiatus. It’s a challenge. More appropriately, it’s a struggle.

Struggle. It’s a word that just sounds sluggish. It even looks …. blah.

Struggle is what’s on my mind today. Following yesterday’s reflection on all that things I didn’t do, the natural thought process is to look at why I didn’t do them. What is it that keeps me from focusing on the task at hand or the goal that’s been set? And similarly to yesterday’s post in which I could have rattled off a laundry list of reasons, I think what I struggle most with is routine.

Working from home affords me a world of luxuries. I’ve come to accept it as my professional status quo - for now - and I really enjoy the perks of having no commute, sleeping in just a little bit longer, and always having a freshly brewed pot of coffee when I wake up (thanks again to my mother-in-law Patsy).

Still, the one glaring drawback of having my home office be my day office is that I really have no routine. Every morning is a little bit different. Every day progresses in its own way, meandering from morning to afternoon to early evening. Throw in the days when my kids are out of school, as they are this week, and any semblance of structure goes completely out the window.

What’s really bothersome is I know the underlying problem with the lack of routine, and my subsequent inability to deliver and produce the way I feel I can and should, is discipline. Discipline. It’s the opposite of struggle. It sounds cold, hard, and brash. It’s clinical. Hearing the word conjures up the image of R. Lee Ermy in Full Metal Jacket. Or better yet, of him in the Geico commercial as a therapist. All the while, I feel like the jackwagon looking for a way to mamby pamby land so I can get my ship in order.

What’s really interesting is that I can easily get fired up over a new project or some new venture. But it’s the lack of mental discipline that leads to no sense of real consistency which, in turn, leads to the total loss of momentum. If only I could bottle up the excitement and enthusiasm that comes with the feeling of new - much like this writing project Lee and I have undertaken - and draw from it when I fell my brain has down-shifted a couple of gears.

Perhaps that’s the real lesson here. Discipline, routine and consistency are easier to find when there’s the presence of the big stick called accountability. I am writing everyday in part because it’s a challenge, but also because I don’t want to disappoint my wife. We agreed to do this together and I don’t want to bail on her and all the hard work she’s put forth so far. What I don’t seem to understand is why it’s so easy to disappoint myself. Why is it that I can’t seem to hold myself accountable? That is the first struggle I must overcome if I am going to realize any real changes this year.

Shoulda’, coulda’, woulda’. When I look back at all the things not done and all the plans unrealized, I fall back on that old cliché. Shoulda’, coulda’, woulda’.

There was a lot of shoulda’, coulda’, woulda’ for me in 2010. Although I am pleased and proud of the many things Lee and I were able to do last year, I feel the number of items in the SCW pile far outweigh those marked as completed. I know part of the problem is wanting and attempting to do too many things at once. I know another aspect is my self-diagnosed ADD gets me started on plan A and before I know it, I’m wondering what to do with plan E.

If I had to narrow it down, however, I think one of my biggest regrets for 2010 is not finishing the fourth volume of my short novel series. I am sure I can go on for a thousand words with justifications as to why it didn’t happen, but the sad fact remains that Volume IV of Lives remains only a couple of pages into its existence. As I wrote yesterday, I will get this volume completed this year - early this year - but it really should have been done by now.

I look around the house and sigh at all the other things on my to-do list that fell by the wayside in 2010. We never got the home office redone (still a work in progress), we never organized and cleaned up the lanai (which is still littered with plants that were brought in because of the cold), and …. well, the list is just too long to cover.

I can put my finger on all the items listed above, but the one thing from last year that really makes me chagrin is not something tangible.

With all that I do, with anything I write, with any place I visit; it all begins with God. I know God is with me in all that I do. What bothers me most as I look back at 2010 is that I was not always with Him. Physical laziness may keep me from picking up that empty can of diet Coke that’s been sitting there for a week, but spiritual laziness will keep me from achieving everything I want to accomplish this year.

As I look back, it’s very obvious to me that I did not come close to doing my part in my relationship with God. I attended church in 2010 more than I had in the past five years, but it wasn’t nearly enough. There were times where four or five weeks would pass between the services I attended. Lee and I made financial offerings to our church and other charities, but I’ve yet to make giving back to God part of my financial priority. I prayed more in 2010 that I can ever remember, but I still don’t take 15 minutes out of every day to devote to Him.

It’s a bit ironic my single most important improvement from last year is also part of my biggest regret. Having been able to be a part of our church community for a full calendar year - Lee and I only started attending Relevant Church in June of ’09 - was so very rewarding. Still, it opened my eyes to how much further I have to go to be the Christ follower I want to be. To be the worshiper He wants me to be.

So, now that I have this spiritual kick to the butt to drive me, I revert back to my blog entry from yesterday and resolve to make God my priority first and foremost. He is already in all that I do. I pray I find the resolve to honor Him in the way I feel He’s calling me to do. Only then can I honestly know I am living a life with no regrets.