Chary

As a middle-aged man sifted through a drawer of junk, he grazed something cool and smooth tucked along the bottom. With familiarity his hands withdrew a little black notebook worn from use. The pages were tattered some with coffee stains and others with salt from the ocean. There was a spark in his eye as he perused doodles, impressions, fears and woe. In that moment, he could feel just how taxing it was to save for the engagement ring and cash flow for the wedding. As he turned the page, he chuckled at the outlandish claim, “World’s Greatest Pilot!” Knowing full well, he had flown only a few hundred hours. A few pages further, there was a long-forgotten mistake that nearly cost him everything. Under his breath he muttered, “Why did you have to be so proud?”

It was all there inside his little confidante— even when quitting was favorable. Then, he saw a claim to make $20,000. His smirk gave way to a nearly inaudible chuckle as yet another memory assailed him. That year was dreadful. He had been laid off from the job of his dreams, lost twenty thousand dollars in a bad investment, and the love of his life had withdrawn. Trouble’s fond of company, but the end is often the beginning.

You see, it’s all about the details. Every cent was etched into the pages: student loans, a car note, and his first mortgage. More importantly, his time was also accounted for. An hour to meditate and another to read, notes on interesting books and bigger questions filled the margins as he labored. Afflatus beset him. From the fjords of Greenland to the oceans of sand stretched across the Sahara Desert, it all started with a decision and a little black notebook.

As for the cash, when you care for the pennies the dollars sort themselves. It’s not enough to be happy and poor just as it is a burden to be wealthy in dejection. This time, it started with a restaurant. Between the two of them, husband and wife, they managed trundling through five jobs. Now, with their first child on the way they knew this relentless pace couldn’t endure. So, they focused their efforts on a tidy street corner right off campus from their local university. They knew the rent would be expensive, but they took the risk anyway. Anyone can pencil whip a spreadsheet, but they decided to create a place that felt like home. And it worked! They even had their baby shower there while on the clock.

From the restaurant came a franchise, animal sanctuary, podcast, and a book deal. We all love to work, but what we love even more is falling in love doing it. Even if they failed, they’d do it together. But when those few short pages were filled, he stopped scribbling. He coasted a few years and went through the motions. Old habits resurfaced, and he became less attentive. At first, he was aloof with work, then with his daughter, and eventually he even grew heedless of his wife. An entire decade was left unaccounted for, and it showed.

At the sheer onset of these forgone memories, the man rushed into another room of the house. While still clamping down on the old journal in one hand as he pressed it into his side, he scurrilously pushed clutter out of the way with his other. After a few minutes of panic, he regained his awareness as he stumbled upon an empty ledger, the one she had gifted to him a few Christmases back. What he wrote next would be definitive. Life is an assortment of endless trundles through daily routines with short spurts of endorphins. It wasn’t until now that he garnered a deeper understanding.