Sundays (eBook)

MONDAYS ARE BANANAS

As a child growing up in Pittsburgh, PA, and as an only child, to a single mother, I was loved, embraced, protected, spoiled, and smothered with lots of affection and attention from my mom. I enjoyed the spoils of being the only child. I never had to share my toys with brothers or sisters, and every Christmas, except for gifts for my mom, grandparents, and other family members, the lion’s share of presents under the Christmas tree was for me. It wasn’t until later in life, especially in college, that I learned what it meant to share space when I had to share a dorm room with a roommate.

During my childhood, and especially as I got older, I learned to appreciate sacrifice from my mom, raising me by herself. She sacrificed her time to help me enter a reputable magnet middle school. She spent hours in the cold to be one of the first in line to get me enrolled. When I went to college, she worked two jobs, sometimes three, to help pay for my tuition and room and board so I could attend the University of Notre Dame. Much self-sacrifice from my mom, which I’m also appreciative and thankful for.

Also in the inner nucleus of the family were my grandma and granddad. My grandparents were married for 60-plus years and were the bedrock and pillar of my family. My granddad would wake up at 4:00 am to drive his tractor-trailers on long hauls. He owned a trucking company and was the quintessential example of hard work, grit, and blue-collar work. Spending time with my granddad taught me what it means to be a provider, to put family first, and to have a work ethic and determination to live a productive life. I have unforgettable memories of waking at 4 am during the summer school breaks to join my granddad on some one-day road trips. My grandma would ensure I had a pillow to rest my head and nap during the journey. I loved it when we would stop for lunch at a truck stop and get eggs, bacon, and Texas Toast. The most enormous slices of bread I’ve ever seen. These times with my granddad were very nostalgic, and I keep these memories close to me. It was just the time between my granddad and me.

On Sundays, I loved attending church with my grandma and mom. I was very active in church, being part of the junior choir and usher board. Why was I part of the junior choir, as singing or keeping a note is not my strong suit? I would love to sit next to my grandma in church, as she always had some candy in her purse and would hand it to me to keep me awake. After church, we sometimes went to Ponderosa, one of our favorite restaurants, for an early dinner buffet. I often would leave the restaurant, walking slightly bent over with stomach cramps because I overate! But these were great times with my family. I’d love to sit on my grandparents’ porch with them during the summers and on weekends and eat ice cream. I truly embraced my time on Sundays with my family. The family was the core of my Sunday – waking up to a more extensive breakfast than the weekdays and then getting dressed up in my Sunday finest, a suit for church. For these trips to Ponderosa, we’d load up in my granddad’s 1971 Buick electra 225. This car was in mint condition, hardly driven, and a classic—only 36k miles when my granddad passed away in 2001.

Reflecting on my childhood, I note how vital and sentimental Sundays meant for me. Any stress I experienced from the school week was soothed on this day. Being around family gave me a re-set to prepare for my next week ahead. I also love Sundays because I can do what I like. I want to watch T.V., play video games, or spend time with my friends in a local playground. I’d also love waking up on Sunday feeling relaxed and fulfilled after spending Saturday with my friends at a local arcade and getting a large slice of pizza and soda. The simple things in life mean so much. Or perhaps I had a sleepover at a friend’s house, and now I can enjoy my Sunday knowing – 1) I completed another school week; and 2) I spent time with friends or family on Saturday. That leaves me on Sunday to do what I please to do, and when I was a child, that meant time with family and a great home-cooked meal with my grandparents or a Sunday buffet.

Fast forward to college, Sundays also played an important day for me. During any week, I’m in classes and doing a lot of reading and prep for classes. Then on Saturdays, I’m usually at a football game, spending time with my friends and getting into everything a student can get into with campus life. Next, on Sundays, I usually recuperate from a long night of alcohol-fueled night and then sit in the dining hall, downing many liquids and struggling with swallowing my toast, with much dehydration. After spending time with friends during lunch, I spent my Sundays with homework and things that mattered the most to me. I may have spent time with a girlfriend, gone to the mall, or relaxed in my room. The gratification of relaxation on Sunday was bar none in college.

Fast forward to the present day. To maximize my Sundays, the rest of the week has its essential parts. Alas, the rinse and repeat of Monday. On Monday, I woke up to the initial feeling of anxiety, the unfortunate rerun that plays in my head. I want to lay in bed longer, but the noise of a long list of “must do’s,” ‘didn’t do’s,” and “what’s next to do” is too loud to allow me to drift back to a state of dreamland—a dream of feeling much different than I do now.

As I lay in bed, staring at the wall, looking at my clock to see if it will go backward or remain at 6:30 am so I can lay in bed longer, my mind goes into warp speed about everything I must do today. I should meditate, as podcasts and my wife tells me often. I meditate, but only sometimes. Instead, I begin my day with a deep prayer, and this dedicated practice of praising my lord and Savior is my strength and focus to get out of bed finally.

So, now I stretch, put on my clothes, and go at warp speed (in thoughts and movement) to check on my daughter, feed my dog, log onto my laptop, walk my dog, take my daughter to school, and go in supersonic speed to my work, work, work.

During my Monday, I continue to toil with thoughts that I know I am not doing my life’s ‘purpose’ to reach internal and life fulfillment. About fifteen years ago, I became consumed in my thoughts - AM I DOING WHAT I AM SUPPOSED TO DO… With these thoughts, I constantly thought and struggled about what I was supposed to do with my life. I should feel blessed in what I have accomplished– investment properties, health, gainfully employed, financially secure, God Fearing, loving family, and a friendly smile and personality have served me well.

Fifteen years ago, when I first thought of writing this book, my life was completely different than now. And I can only say that life, like wine, gets better with time. To spare you the minutiae, I lived a calculated yet reckless life of abandonment. Yes, I said that - calculated, yet reckless.

In short order, I moved to D.C. after graduating from law school. I moved to an apartment in Northern Virginia – equipped with a sense of financial security, a desire to mingle while single, and an unmatched bravado. This trifecta of my state led to an incredible -single life.

Fast forward to the current day. I am married, have a beautiful 9-year-old daughter, and have a job that affords me much flexibility. FLEXIBILITY is a word I will emphasize, underscore, and highlight later in this book.

The parallel of both universes is as follows: Fifteen years ago – single and ready to mingle—now - married and a father. I oft ask myself, which of these is consistent with my purpose? This feeling permeates the course of human veins more than we want to admit. It’s a feeling that, excuse my rawness; a man feels when they climax with the wrong person. Build up and release, yet no satisfaction with inner self and feelings.

So, I go through my Monday working with no true fulfillment, living my life to continue to pay bills, feel a sense of financial security, and provide for my family. While I enjoy the rewards and fruits of my labor, I know I am a cog in my employer’s system, not genuinely extending and offering my true worth and purpose on this green earth. If I were doing what I was supposed to be doing, I would feel more fulfilled and not have continued feelings of a void in my life – not engaged in a career or interests intended for me. I often say to myself that I want to create and build an empire for my daughter so that one day, she can take the helm of the kingdom if she chooses to.

Granted, I feel blessed and thank my lord and Savior for my blessings, and I never fail to thank Him and send praises for the blessings bestowed on me and my family. I also thank my lord and Savior for giving me the courage and boldness to pursue my true purpose and passion. I also have the steady feeling of not feeling complacent or resting on my laurels. So, as I go about my Monday, I look at the glass half full, knowing that while I see an empty glass in the mirror, I envision how full it will be once I set in motion all the steps and actions to become fulfilled.

A good night’s rest is necessary to start the work week on Monday. There are times I do not sleep well due to anxiety. And most of the pressure is attributed to my job. I create unnecessary self-imposed anxiety and need to better channel this negative energy into positive energy. And the impetus of the stress is my job and my lack of control over various aspects of my work. So, it is essential to work on mental health to set the stage for a good night’s rest to begin a Monday. Mondays set the tone for my work week, and if I’m not feeling...