Tag Archives: Life Lessons

Fit, not fit for 52

I’m not behind where I should be or need to be. I don’t have someone I should be comparing myself to, other then me yesterday and me before that.

I don’t need to feel behind, feel I’m not where I should be, feel I’ll never be fit enough.

I’m fit, not just fit for 52.

I need to feel that I’m committed to getting better. I need to feel that incremental improvements are not just good enough, they are my goal. I need to feel good about where I am now, and where I’m going.

I don’t have a marathon to run, I’m not getting on a court, a playing field, and I’m definitely not entering a ring. I am taking care of a back that aches daily, and needs me to stay limber. I am working on my recovery from a knee injury. I am becoming stronger, fitter, and I’m working on my core to help me age gracefully. I am snacking less, eating more healthy, and taking vitamin supplements that my body needs.

It’s important to have goals. It’s important to care for my future self. But it’s important not to be too hard on my current self about all the ways I could and should be in a better place than I am now.

I don’t need my age, my current abilities and deficits, or somebody else’s progress compared to me to change how I feel about myself right now.

Putting unrealistic expectations on myself doesn’t make the journey enjoyable. I’m fit today. I plan to stay fit. But if I’m realistic I also need to recognize that the fittest me at 72 won’t be as fit as I am now at 52. So while taking care of myself and making small improvements is my current goal, maintainance and healthy living is the ultimate target.

Yes, age is just a construct, but aging is inevitable. The alternative really sucks. Think about it, we aren’t on a journey to any finish line, it’s the journey itself that matters.

It’s a marathon, not a sprint

After today, I’m going to take at least a few days off from posting about school, remote learning, social distancing, and Covid-19. I need to take a break from writing about these things daily, but will admit it’s hard when that’s mostly what’s on my mind. The reality is that these things aren’t going away any time soon. We are in this for a while.

Despite that, the last two weeks have felt like an all-out sprint. There are so many things that need to get done and the days have disappeared into busy blurs of activity and exhaustion.

This can’t be sustained over the marathon we have in front of us. We. Need. To. Slow. Down. This four-day weekend couldn’t have come at a better time.

No, I won’t be taking all four days completely off. But I will let go of work for a couple days. I will continue to exercise and take care of myself. I might be a little lax on my good eating habits. I will sit in front of the television. I will read. I will get outside.

Most importantly, I’ll remind myself that there are more than two and a half months of school left… If I’m going to be my best, it will be because I remember that I’m needing to be my best over a marathon of time, and not just for a short sprint.

I don’t know

I tend to be a confident person when sharing my opinion, and that can be both a strength and a weakness. But recently I’ve been struck with a pretty big dose of “I don’t know?” Especially around the future of the pandemic we are facing, and when things will start to look ‘normal’.

When will the peak happen?

When will schools and most stores open again?

When will sporting events and concerts start again?

I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Will social distancing in some capacity linger for months going forward?

Will COVID-19 resurge next flu season, before a vaccine is created?

How normal will the new normal be?

I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

What I do know is that we all have to do our part. I know that this experience would have been a lot harder if we couldn’t communicate with loved ones digitally. I know that worrying about things we can not control is unhealthy.

It’s not helpful to dwell on the unknowns and one thing seems clear: Even the experts aren’t sure of the best course of action right now. Considering this, it’s ok that I don’t know either.

A dose of humour

I’ve been sharing a few funny posts on Twitter recently. I don’t mean to make light of a serious situation, and I’m sharing messages from experts too…


But I don’t see a need to preach here, and I’d rather people pay attention to experts, not just misguided leaders, but actual experts.

Yes, the Coronavirus pandemic is serious. Yes it likely will get more serious before it gets better. But we can’t spend our time in constant stress, in a continual state of heightened concern. We also need time to laugh and have fun.

Here are a few laughs I’ve shared recently:


In the coming days, remember to find time for (harmless) humour and fun!

A lesson taught with dignity and respect

My grandfather, Leon Bernstein or ‘Papa B’ as he was known, was an amazing man. As I shared at his funeral:

Papa B. is a Giant!

Like many of you, I know this because he told me so.
Papa wasn’t boasting when he said this, he was just telling you the way it is. If you were to measure a man by the legacy he leaves behind Papa would come as big as they get. In this way he is still a giant and always will be.

Here is a lesson that he taught me, wrapped inside of another lesson. It speaks to his character, and to the kind of person I want to be, that I strive to be. It’s a lesson he taught me when I was about 14 years old.

It happened at a family gathering at our house, it was the weekend and both sets of grandparents and a few aunts and uncles were over. It wasn’t a special occasion, our family often connected without a specific reason. I specifically know that it wasn’t a special occasion because I went for a bike ride with a couple friends, and if it was a special occasion, like a birthday, I would have had to stay at the celebration.

When I finished my ride, just before dinner, I came home and I remember that I was going very fast. I reached my driveway and I didn’t slow down. I made the sharp turn on my neighbour’s shared driveway and kept my speed up as I headed to the garage. But at the speed I was going I couldn’t make the turn and I hit Papa B’s car. My handlebar scraped across the car door leaving a scratch longer than a ruler, over 12 inches or 30cm. Then I fell to the pavement and scraped me knee.

It wasn’t a bad scape but standing up I looked at the scrape on me knee and then the large scratch on my grandfather’s car and I started to cry. I went into the house crying and I told my story of riding up the driveway and hitting the car. I didn’t admit to going too fast.

A few adults came outside to look at the car. I still had tears in my eyes as we looked at the large scratch on the front passenger car door. There was a remark about how big it was and the tears flowed. My grandfather spoke up, “It’s all right boy, the important thing is you weren’t hurt. Your knee will heal and the scratch can be fixed. All good.”

And with that we all went inside, me hobbling with exaggeration behind everyone that came outside. I got a bandaid from my mom, and the scratch on the car wasn’t mentioned again that night. I had convinced myself when I scraped the car that I was going to get in big trouble, but my grandfather said it wasn’t important, what was important was that I was ok. It was ‘All good’.

A couple days later Papa B came over and he asked me to come outside. He took me by the hand, something only he could do to a 14 year old in a way that felt natural. Holding hands was something Papa B did with all his grandkids. We walked to the passenger side of the car and he pointed. “See that,” he said pointing to the scratch I had made. “The scratch is horizontal. You were going too fast. If you were going a safe speed, the scratch would have pointed down as the bike fell, but you turned too fast and this scratch tells me so. It’s ok, I know it was a mistake, but I wanted you to know that I know you were going too fast.”

That was it. We went inside and it was never mentioned again.

This has shaped the way I have spoken as a teacher to students in my class, and now as a principal to students in my office. Papa knew all along, but he didn’t want to share this in front of an audience. He waited and taught me a lesson with dignity and respect. It’s easy to be angry and heated and forget to be like this.

That isn’t to say that I always choose to deal with things this way. And sometimes it’s good for students to see you upset, or disappointed with some emotion. But my default is to strive to be like Papa B. To choose a moment that isn’t public. To be gentle and respectful, but also to face the issue rather than let it pass.

Students make mistakes. People make mistakes. I make mistakes. When I remember this story, I remember that how we react to a mistake can be as much of a lesson as the lesson the mistake has to offer. Others deserve the same respect that my Papa B gave to me.

Be the designer of your world and not merely a consumer of it

I love this quote by James Clear in his book Atomic Habits. While I’m not big on platitudes, I think this invites more thought and conversation:

“Be the designer of your world and not merely a consumer of it.” ~ James Clear

How many times in a day are we faced with a decision where we passively acquiesce and do what is expected or what is easy rather than taking control and making a choice? The potato chips are easy to grab; The second last attempt on the last set of a workout suddenly becomes the last attempt; The rude person at work says something inappropriate, but you let it slide; The student who knows the answer but doesn’t raise their hand; The 5 minute check of social media becomes 25 minutes of scrolling; the ‘Next Episode’ counts down on Netflix and you let it start.

How many moments are there in a day that can be chosen rather than consumed ‘as usual’? We are the designers of our lives… or at least we should be.

Adding a little extra

I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a recipe where the amount of garlic ‘recommended’ wasn’t less than I wanted to (and probably did) put in. My whole family loves garlic and despite adding more garlic than suggested, in our house a meal has never been ruined by too much garlic. You can’t say the same for salt, or dill, or oregano.

Some things you can add a little extra, some things you can’t:

You can add some genuine compliments, be careful how much criticism you add.

You can add generosity generously, but just a pinch of selfishness.

You can add copious amounts of love, but only a sprinkling of animosity.

There isn’t any one recipe for living a good life, and so the ingredients we choose to put in can be played with… if we are thoughtful and liberally creative with the right ingredients, we can end up with delicious results!

Starting with yourself

“To you love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.” Oscar Wilde

This quote was said in my daily meditation today on the Calm App. It struck me as something that is so easy to forget. We strive to be better. We are never satisfied with where and who we are. We want to be better, fitter, thinner, wiser, more in control, less wasteful, happier, kinder, more than we are.

This striving to be more than we are is good… as long as we are also happy with who we are right now. Without acceptance of ourselves we can’t be our best selves. Say that out loud and let it sink in:

“Without acceptance of ourselves we can’t be our best selves.”

Who admires you most? See yourself through their eyes for just a moment… Now let that moment linger for a while. Celebrate who you are. You don’t have to share that you are doing this with anyone, but if you honestly do this, you will be putting your best self forward into the world.

What’s the third option?

It can be hard to make a tough choice. There are things that happen that can make you think, ‘Damned if I do, and damned if I don’t.” It might not always be a lose-lose situation, but it can be a situation where there seems to be no easy or good way forward.

What’s the third option?

This third option doesn’t have to be the answer. This third option can be worse than the original two options, (as long as it is a legitimate option). Giving yourself a third option removes the challenging dichotomy of the two original options. It removes your ability to put the first two options on a metaphorical scale, where these two options seemed equally balanced. The third option might be better, but even if it’s not it might create a comparison that lets you see the other two options in a new light. One of the original options might then seem better or worse than it did before.

This works great when dealing with students. When given a tough choice, some students make the good choice, others might choose to be defiant and choose the more painful choice as an act of defiance. Give that same student a third choice and they are less likely to choose the defiant option because there isn’t one other choice to be defiant against.

I’ve used this strategy many times with kids, but I sometimes forget that it’s a valuable strategy to use myself.

Stuck deciding between two tough choices? Ask yourself, ‘What’s a third choice?’

Advice to a younger me

My youngest daughter turns 18 today. She graduates high school in June.

I’m writing this in the same living room my wife and I sat in before taking her to the hospital for my daughters delivery. The same living where that happened for my older daughter who is now 20. The furniture has changed, our cars have changed, my hairline has changed. Our kids have grown up. I feel relatively the same.

Sure my aches and pains take longer to heal. I have memories that have faded. I see lines in my face that were not there before. I seem to have lost certain memories. But I feel the same. I feel like less time has passed. I feel like two decades have raced by.

Have you ever wondered, if you could go back in time and tell yourself something, what would you say? What would you say to the younger version of you?

I’d say, “Commit both time and attention to things at the same time.”

That’s all. I wouldn’t want to say anything else other than ‘be more present’. Of course this is advice I could and should take now. After all, if the last two decades blinked by, that’s a pretty strong suggestion that the next two might go just as quick, or faster.