Leave Nothing on the Table

Growing up in the competitive athletic world, I was very familiar with the saying earn a “spot at the table”.  To be awarded the opportunity to sit and eat at the table meaning that through your time, effort, blood and sweat along with your talent, you had what it took to be finally granted a place among those who would compete as a team. At the head of the table was the coach or the school, and the rest were the hungry athletes waiting to devour their opponents. Growing up and into adulthood, that is how I saw the world, and that is what I devoted much of my time to.  I did what I was told, executed as well as I could, trying so very hard just to get a spot to eat.  Being in the workforce for nearly 12 years, I have found that this is very similar in the business world.  At it’s most basic level, it is a raw fight for a place at the table no matter what you do. One guy at the head of the table directing his team so they can grow and prosper.

But, hold on. Why not build your own table? Isn’t that what the really innovative, “successful” people do?  Why not step away and try something? If it doesn’t work out just as planned, is it a failure? Or is it more of a learning opportunity? I suppose it is a matter of perspective.

Pushing weight (go ahead and add that up, I dare you), made it onto the IU football team and quickly learned the difference of D-I football. Genetics definitely helps you to find a better spot at the table! I didn’t play a snap there.

The cover picture for this blog is a table I built and gave to Leah as her 2018  Mother’s Day gift.  The whole project stemmed from Leah and I getting creative with how to cover the hideous well cover that was sitting in the middle of our back patio.  The placement of the well was directly in the middle of our backyard and was covered by a rusting metal square cover.  We also thought it would be nice to have a common sitting area to gather.  Put the two together, and there was a way to tactfully cover the well.  I found some simple blueprints online, changed the dimensions to make a square large enough for the legs to fit over the well cover,  and purchased a whole bunch of cedar.  I then got creative with fabricating a wood cover for the well, and threw in two benches to complete the ensemble. I’ve been drawn to different kinds of small wood projects in the past, but I had never taken on a true furniture build by myself. This was my first. I tried and it turned out pretty good if I don’t say so myself.

Tired of all the sanding and finishing touches on the table. Celebrating Fisher’s second birthday at the table.

With my efforts and focus craving more variety than what I was able to experience through a forty hour work week, I realized that maybe Leah and I could make our own “table in life” to sit at.  Absorbing this new principal of creating our own table, the creativity doors opened wide.  We could do whatever we want to do with it!  We could put as much food or as little food on the table as we wanted, spread with something exotic or something basic. The world began to open up!  Why not try things? Why not challenge ourselves? Why do it the way that we’re told?

I’m desiring more and more to intentionally make sure that my family and I have enough to be comfortable while we take everything we can from every encounter and experience, leaving nothing on the table.  The fact that I have one shot at this life, leaves me with a longing to make sure that that my table is cleaned, and that I’m greeted with a “Job well done!” when I move on for this earthly shell.

What is it that you, or even we, are afraid of? In life, that question is usually answered by some sort of fear of failure. In other instances there are certainly physical phobias.  But I believe the majority of circumstances in which we hold ourselves back are driven by the fear of failing ourselves or someone else or misconceived perceptions when dealing with people. I want to remove these boundaries for myself and my family. I want to be the best me I can be, while helping others be the best they can be. Does my mind shout the possibility of failure? You bet it does, causing second guesses, but I’m not letting it hold me back. Choosing instead to see the possible outcomes as opportunities to learn.

My buddy Dan would be able to instantly tell you where my physical fears lie when it comes to tangible phobias. I don’t like heights.  More specifically, ledges or drop offs.  He was first introduced to my fear of heights on our first hike we did together with our wives. It is a nice hike with a short little scramble up what is called pilot rock, just outside of Ashland Oregon. The scramble, nearly vertical at times, had my heart beating pretty good. When we reached the top, I was plenty happy just standing still allowing Dan to run around and take pictures. He certainly saw the trepidation in my eyes and body language, and when he asked if I wanted to come a little closer to the ledge for a picture, I gratefully declined. Approaching the scramble down, Dan asked if I had a fear of heights, and I came back with my responsive of “there’s only two things in this world I’m afraid of, and one of them is heights.” He graciously accepted that answer and we finished our scramble off of the peak of the rock to join our wives and dogs down at the base. Starting our hike back through the woods, I asked Dan, “Aren’t you interested to find out the other thing I’m afraid of?” Of course he said yes, and I quickly replied, “Carnies. Small hands…smell like cabbage.” I bet you can’t name the movie that line is from. If you can, we are definitely friends. Look below for the answer.

Dan learned about Carnies up on Pilot Rock – Ashland, OR

Sometimes in life you meet those people that you bond well with, sharing your beliefs and fears,  and can really be challenged by.  Dan has been this friend for me over the last eight years.  He respected (far from understood) my hesitance with heights and ledges…but that didn’t stop him from offering up challenges regularly. This included my first mountain peak summit to the top of Mount McLaughlin in early spring before the snow had really begun to melt.  This was peanuts to Dan, who in his own right was becoming a fairly efficient mountaineer, with all the good equipment.  He came prepared with ice axes, crampons and mountaineering boots.  Whereas I had some beat up Columbia hiking boots and “don’t slip on the ice” small coiled Yak Traks.  Nearly halfway up the mountain, the incline pitched it no less than a 60% incline.  I kid you not, I began to have my first taste of what an anxiety attack feels like.  I called for a break and just sat my big butt in the snow to take a few breaths, look around, and collect myself.  I had a choice – go no further, or pony up and try more – I could always try just another step.  It was OK. With the summit becoming reachable,  I was on my hands and knees, digging in the ice ax to access some kind of stability.  I plopped over the edge onto the “level” snow and laid there – looking up to see Dan with his Billy-goat feet just prancing around the top, snapping off pictures as I tried not to throw up. I was plenty happy to take in the view resting on my stomach for a solid five minutes before I could muster the effort to get back to a sitting position.  I made Dan and our other buddy who was with us come to me for the summit picture, and then most likely firmly stated I was good and ready to head on down.  That was the first time I realized how exhausting it is to battle through fear.  However, within minutes I was able to experience the lightness of security as well.  The thing I had been fearing – going down, became a blast! We simply sat on our behinds with the ice ax dug in behind us, acting like a rudder.  It was wonderful!  I didn’t die!  I was stinking floating, man! And I’ll probably never do anything like that again! 

I didn’t die!

Another challenge Dan presented me with was a hike up to Grizzly Lake in the Trinity Alps. I have saved some journal writing from that trip, and may include it as another post, so I will not spend too much time describing the challenge that I had in those conditions with a 60 pound pack, trying to scramble vertically through loose scree.  I can say I tried, I didn’t die again, and it totally opened my eyes, my mind, gave me a fresh breath, and allowed me to reset.

So yes, physical tasks that take you beyond your mental perception of what you feel you can safely do are totally worth it in the end.  Also, trying your hand at a new skill attempting turn out something beautiful is worth it.  Shoot, trying the most exotic thing on a menu is worth it.  Why not?  You might not like it? You might not be good at it?  You might have created a disaster instead of a masterpiece?  Why do we make ourselves live in a “has to be perfect” society?  Disclaimer:  I know I utilize Facebook to keep the NRJ interest going, but in regards to the above statement:  Thank you Fakebook, for making everyone’s life look so fantastic and perfect as only those moments that are posted.

Ok – off that tangent – What I have described in the post are some of the ways that I live out the notion of intentional living, fully in the moment.  Times when I have said “I’ll try”, not leaving anything on the table.  The other half of this sentiment exists outside of physical challenges, and within interpersonal relationships. 

I pride myself in being a good listener, and I know it is appreciated by many that I encounter.  I actually believe it to be my number one asset in my professional life as a physical therapist.  However, choosing when and what to say to people is a skill that I feel I’ll forever be sharpening.  At times I find myself caught between a quote I’ve grown up with by Abraham Lincoln in which he states “It is better to remain silent, and be thought a fool, than open your mouth and remove all doubt.” And the itch to speak out because this individual really needs to hear what I have to say.  Unfortunately,  we go through life trying to please and impact those we encounter during the day, yet we let those closest to us just hang in the shadow of the monotony of life.  Please make sure that whoever that person is in your life really knows that you appreciate them for who they are. This could look like many different things; complements, seeking advice from that individual even though it’s really not needed, asking them to join you in a thought or problem-solving.  At the end of the day, leaving somebody with a simple “I love you” is the most meaningful conveyance of this to me. The more life experiences I have as the years go by, I appreciate more and more the fragility of life and our time here. If I don’t get an opportunity to talk with somebody again, I really hope that I’ve demonstrated and verbalized in a meaningful way to them how much that person means to me and how much I really truly do love them. 

I hope you have, or will have the blessing of doing this life with a partner or spouse. The most important and beautiful earthly relationship we can hope to experience.  Leah is becoming my ultimate teammate.  We make a good and awesome compliment, without a doubt she challenges me. She believes in me.  She pushes me.  She shows me that she has every ounce of confidence in my ability no matter what it might be. The table?  Sure I built it, but she challenged me to, and I would have never undertaken that project without her support.  I used to think working harder would move me closer to unstoppable, but I have learned her confidence is even more powerful.  If she tells me she knows I can, then at the very least, I think I can.  I’m really finding that through this opportunity we’re blessed to embark upon, the challenges that we have faced to get to this point, and the future unknown challenges, are strengthening our bond in a supremely significant way. If you’re looking for a way to further promote a bond between you and your partner, I can think of no better way than declaring a common goal that challenges you as a pair to push forward and problem solve.  Picking up and encouraging each other along with way.  There’s no better way to grow deeper with a person then go to through tough challenging circumstances.  I’m so grateful for whom the Lord blessed me with in Leah. I know for certain (trust me I’ve seen video evidence of this girl beating high school football players in a pizza eating contest), between the two of us, we’re gonna leave nothing on the table.

Here is the answer to the reference made at the beginning of the article.