Ep. 123 – Do You Regret This?

Gross. I mean, really. They’re gross. Living up to them. Meeting them. Falling short. Exceeding them.  
Someone shared with me “Expectations are premeditated resentments.”


Another dear friend stated “expect nothing from anyone and you won’t be let down.” These go hand-in-hand. I am 36 and realize I have been doing shit all wrong for so long. Maybe if I worked harder for them, they’d see me. Maybe if I changed this about me, they will be not have so much trouble with that. 
I don’t want to stop learning, growing, challenging, pushing. Expectations with people suck, but expecting Big Turkey Foot Coffee to be delicious, and being affirmed it is when you have a cup, doesn’t. Head over to Youlldietrying dot com this second, grab a bag, a hat, a hoodie. And so forth. I mean, I know we were late to launch the site, so quit expecting so much from me.  

A show which pulls back the curtain, takes the walls brick by brick and exposes the true hearts of those caring for those you love most. Let’s talk regret. Yuck!

A few shows back, I mentioned Stu telling me I should quit. I remember stating my argument with him that I love it. That I’m fine with it, in his words, “controlling my life.” That was then. As an established professional, 11 years later, am I? Or do I regret ever tripping into and up this hill toward service excellence and success as a premiere provider of care?

Regret is the emotion of wishing one had made a different decision in the past, because the consequences of the decision were unfavorable. – 

The definition alone sounds depressing. Being ordinary was such a scary and gross thought to me for so longer. I had to be big, printed one day in textbooks, my ideas and implementations. My songs had to survive me. To do that means three years straight of taking call. Late night drives to Nashville to record. Pumping the road to get enough money to pay musicians and for gas. Never, ever, ever stopping the unending search for perfection has been a lonely car ride. The only companion most days is the playlist, fueled by the inner emotions felt in a moment. 

On these drives to transfer the dead, you glance to the side, out the window of your transfer Pacifica, watching a high school football stadium fill with faculty, staff and alumni for a big rivalry game. The flashing neon signs at Bridgestone promoting Morgan Wallen, while his fans all but run to get to their seats in the arena.  

You miss so much doing this. Caring for the dead. The people left to grieve them. And the rocks that the bereaved tend to throw because, well, grief causes uncontrolled stress and anger, and since we have to blame, it becomes your fault the two inch rain fall the previous night caused dad’s grave to settle a little more than anticipated. Yet we wipe off our brows, the mud from our boots, shake out the water from our hair, because you gave your umbrella to a cold, little old lady so she didn’t get wet, while the crowd unconsiously pushes you to the side of the cemetery tent, directly under the tent flap hanging down, where the water just flows double. Yet there you stand, somber, committed. In that moment, you choose a little extra discomfort just so the family knows you’re sacrificing a little to make them know you are meeting them where they are.  

Have I regretted doing this line of care? I have. Sometimes I wish I didn’t choose music and instead went to kick for a D1 college in Football. Study film and broadcasting. Never come home for my birthday in April of 2010. Never spend money I didn’t have to have a friend messily throw my belongings in massive boxes, so DHL could get them back to me. Then I should’ve chose music. That massive record deal with the boy band. The big group in Nashville and LA. Sold out to Warner after the massive abuse in 2009 happened and their fans needed a 2 year fix.  

Regret, like expectation, is gross. You can learn from both. Messing up is just that. Messing up. I, in this moment, know I haven’t messed up. It’s all been worth it. Opening my eyes to hope and awareness of such thoughts. Appreciation for life, and knowing moments of despair and weight are never too heavy to burden and worth living through. 

Please meet me and others where they, we, are. Don’t expect it to be any different than it currently is. Support. Uphold. Inspire. Where you are wouldn’t be if you didn’t do what you had done. The beauty created along the way is magic! Had I not turned down this road, pointing at Megan and gesturing with my finger to come here, I would not be sitting at this brand new podcast desk, in this podcast suite, while my incredible team and I continue pushing the boundaries of exemplary service. 11 years of this. I’m in it. Perhaps the divinity of it all is the beautiful mapping our Creator designed in order to carry out His works, so I may carry out mine. I mean, I would’ve been far more comfortable with one of those straight lines, but God’s a showoff.  

“We crucify ourselves over two thieves. Regret for yesterday and fear for tomorrow.”

I know this much, I am excited to be here, with you. I am excited to learn more about my field, the people in it, and the ways to better it. I will not stop until I cease to breathe. Which reminds me. Some old death certificates listed “causes of death” as “Cease to breathe.” Thorough, huh?

Regret needs to get thrown out like a used pair of Microflex gloves. And if you’re anything like me, you continue toying with which size is appropriate. Do you wear the actual size, the one that fits, or one size small, so you can have a closer and tighter fit?  

I’ll be here when you get back. And truly, thank you for finding me! Take care.