Eric – Page 7 – Eric L. Walker

Personal voice in professional writing

I write daily on this blog: simple writing, and more like public journaling – a personal voice in professional writing. Even if no one reads this, I would still write.

Why?

Because when I know I have to write something tomorrow, it forces me to think, form opinions, and invent ideas. It’s a daily exercise in a thoughtful examination of my world. I might say something that helps someone else. One of my opinions might stand the test of time. If I share it publicly, I will show up with the intent to form those perspectives and invent ideas.

And if someone printed one of my posts to put on the refrigerator or someone shared what I wrote with their team, that would be best.

I seek to leave behind this trail of exploration, day after day, week after week, year after year, and I can’t help but get better at what I do. I’m the type of person that wants to get better at what I do.

It starts as a commitment that evolves into a habit. I also love it.

Simultaneously, if you are reading this, and as a result, I earn your trust because of it, that’s the sweet spot.

Ultimately, my goal is to be trusted in a way that I can create awareness and make positive change. Writing this “blog” is the minimum viable way I can begin to do that, and it’s a start.

Let’s not call this a blog. Instead, it’s a personal voice in professional writing. It’s about taking the time to talk to the people who want to be talked to and earning their permission.

I won’t achieve that by manipulating SEO or the latest social media strategy. No, I gain trust and approval by showing up in a way that you’d want someone to show up for you. Right now, you and I’re sitting down for coffee to chat.

In short, I write these small things every day. It’s a habit. Therefore, I have to say something tomorrow. As a result, I’ll form opinions and invent ideas. In time, leaving a trail of exploration makes me better. My goal is to create awareness and positive change by earning trust. It’s personal writing within the practice of being a professional.

Insights on Fatherhood as My Son Turns 13

Lucan turned 13, and I’m close to 50. This prompt got me thinking about what I’ve learned as a father. Here’s a list of the most essential items for the current season.

1. If I’m going to set high expectations, I must pair them with unwavering love and support.

2. My rules are few but firm and non-negotiable. To maintain that tension, I cannot demand more than I give. High standards are accompanied by 100% effort on my part.

3. Carving out the space that allows them to argue reasonably has numerous upsides. The practice is on the “reasonable” part. This also helps us both see if I’m the one being unreasonable.

4. I offer fewer choices. I’m more guide on the side kind of dad. This offers more communication opportunities. My motto: Keep them moving forward and talking to me with each step.

5. I’m “dad” first, “friend” second. This line wants to blur as they age, but it must stay clear.

6. There are no free rides, but I support them entirely.

7. Love and trust are living, breathing things that can change with a flip. I stay humble because tomorrow brings new challenges.

8. When I’m stuck in a moment, I focus on the bigger purpose of being a firm and loving father. That way, I keep them close when I’m sweating over the small stuff.

My Nostalgic 1980s Summer

Summer would hit, which would not affect my parent’s life whatsoever. They continued to do what they did. Usually, they went to work. They didn’t supervise us. We had nothing except our bikes and baseball gloves. We had a small assortment of Army men, a Tonka truck, a Luke Skywalker action figure, and a magnifying glass.

We had enough money in nickels, dimes, and quarters to get the cheapest thing from the ice cream truck. We always took a “time-out” for the ice cream truck. A Snickers was .35 cents. We drank from the hose. On the hottest days, we’d screw on the sprinkler to jump through eight streams of cold water. Always barefoot. Every day was an adventure because we had our bikes and could push the furthest boundaries of our neighborhood.

We had about 8-10 hours a day to meet strangers. We met new people all the time. We’d stumble upon some older kids smoking cigarettes in the woods that cussed us away. We discovered that one kid in the adjacent neighborhood across “the busy street” had a slip-and-slide. We could always find a pickup baseball game in an extra lot, a cul de sac, or at the school playground. We made new friends and necessary connections on our own. We didn’t have “play dates.” We knocked on our friend’s front door and asked, “Can Jonny play?” It was Yes or No. Sometimes, a fistfight settled things.

When we came home, the milk was cold, so we gulped it down. Our parents knew nothing of what we’d been up to. It’s not that they didn’t care, but it wasn’t a concern. We’d just been “playing,” and that took on a life of its own.

Portulaca

This is the Portulaca flower, also called Purslane. It blooms brightly in the sun and retreats its bloom as the day fades. Most of my colleagues at the greenhouse are Spanish-speaking. Gloria explains that Portulaca means “amor de un rato,” meaning “love of a moment.” These are the “ah hahs” that greenhouse life offers me. So I contemplate how Portulaca’s beauty is fleeting and compare that to life’s collection of small moments. One moment. All the time. “Amor de un rato” reminds me to cherish transient experiences, whether in nature or life, because they add richness and depth to my existence. For this reason, I love Portulaca. It reminds me that the briefest moments can be the most beautiful.

Tipping fatigue

Paying $3.38 for a simple black coffee already feels steep. Then, I’m nudged to donate spare change to charity, followed by a prompt for a 15%, 20%, or 25% tip. Here’s the thing…

I’m not against tipping. What’s tiring is the constant barrage of requests for tips or charitable donations for the most basic transactions. Now, if I order my favorite mocha with an extra shot, extra hot, breve, no foam, no whip, and it’s made with evident care and skill, that’s a different story. That’s when I tip. The craft and love earn my gratitude, not the routine. My tipping rule is simple: to earn a tip, delight me. Anything less, especially for a standard cup of coffee, doesn’t make the cut.

Walking

If not resolutions, what then? I prefer making PLANS. And I’ll tell you one thing I plan to do MORE of in 2024… It’s WALKING. Yep. It might sound trivial, but I’m not kidding.

“He who sits still in a house all the time may be the greatest vagrant of all, but the saunterer, in the good sense, is no more vagrant than the meandering river, which is all the while sedulously seeking the shortest course to the sea.”
-Henry David Thoreau

More “sauntering” and less sitting.

No one has made a more compelling case for the physical and mental value of walking than Thoreau. In his 1861 treatise “Walking,” Thoreau reminds us of how that primal act of mobility “connects us with our essential wildness,” which today can serve as a refreshing antidote to our staring at small rectangular screens all day.

You can download “Walking” by Thoreau for free on Kindle

Overthinking

It doesn’t matter what it is: Parenting, business, career, fitness, etc. You name it.

You’re not understanding the sheer volume of mistakes and failures that are required in order to grow. You put so much pressure on yourself to make the “right” decisions that you end up doing nothing, which you think is safer than making the wrong decision. Wrong. Overthinking without taking action adds up to nothing. It’s far better to view mistakes and failures as an opportunity to learn and grow instead of something to avoid at all costs. And… you’ll reach your goals sooner.

Parental Legacy

I’m considering Parents who invest in their children’s futures. The Parents that make (have made) sacrifices without expecting anything in return. Parents that have relocated across the globe to secure a better life. Parents that work tirelessly to ensure their children’s well-being. These efforts often go unnoticed by the younger generation. Yet, this lack of recognition is not a concern for Parents. Because their primary goal is not to be appreciated, it’s to provide unconditional love and support.

The legacy of Parental sacrifice is a long-standing tradition. Previous generations endured hardships I cannot fathom, like enduring hunger or working relentless factory jobs, so their children could thrive. But what I do understand is that this cycle of giving isn’t about repayment, it’s about perpetuating love and care. The expectation isn’t for children to reciprocate to their Parents but to extend the same selfless love to their offspring – someday. In this way, the cycle of nurturing and sacrifice continues, each generation paying it forward, ensuring an enduring legacy of familial love and support. That’s something I believe in and aspire to.

The importance of daily practice

Pablo Casals was a renowned cellist who once emphasized the vital impact of daily practice on the instrument’s “feel.” He remarked that skipping even one day of practice made a noticeable difference, not just to him but also to his close friends and eventually to the whole world. This insight aligns with the experience of a physicist who, also a violinist, wrapped his violin in green felt, clamped it in a vise, and observed its molecular surface under an electron microscope. The experiment demonstrated the lasting effects of daily play on the instrument. This finding reinforces that musical instruments need regular attention to maintain their resonance. I love this idea because it extends to writers (me) who find daily pen-to-paper engagement breathes life into ideas. So, just as Casals felt the difference in his cello after a day of neglect, I, too, can tell if I go a day or two or three without practicing putting pen-to-paper. The example highlights the power of consistent practice in any (creative) endeavor.

Put your butt where your heart wants to be

The more important a project or any endeavor is to your growth, the more resistance you will feel to it. When I say resistance, I mean the tendency to procrastinate, self-doubt, distraction, confusion, fear… all things that sabotage your work. So it’s a good sign if you’re about to embark on something or are already in it and overwhelmed with resistance. It means that your project is important to your growth. Sit down, shut up, and do it.

First one to the table gets a clean fork

I call, “Time to eat.”

No one comes.

The sink is stacked high with dishes. Silverware is gone.

Last night, the kids dug through the dirty pile just to find a spoon for ice cream, groaning as if washing their own dish was some unbearable crime.

I call again, “Time to eat!”

Still nothing.

Cooking for kids can feel thankless. Dinner is ready, food hot, and no one is in sight.

I try one more time, stretching out the “eeeaaat” with that sharp edge they know too well.

Then I add, “First one to the table gets a clean fork.”

Suddenly, a stampede.

Feet thudding through the living room.

My two oldest skid onto the linoleum like baseball players sliding into home.

The youngest is body-checked onto the couch. She whines, “Not fair.”

An argument flares.

“I’m first.”
“No, I was first.”

I cut in. “You’re both first. Sit down, my little stinks.”

And just like that, they do.

Relief washes over me.

Dinner is still hot.

A chorus of “yays” bursts out as they see pesto pasta with chicken and mushrooms. Their favorite.

They pass the Romano cheese around like a sacred offering.

In that moment,

I feel something loosen.

It doesn’t matter that I’m still at the sink, scrubbing forks.

What matters is that they’re here. All of them. Sharing food. Sharing the day.

These are the nights that build memory without trying. Nights when irritation softens, when laughter rises from the chaos, and when love shows itself in the simplest form…

just being at the table together.

These are days to remember.

Don’t inherit liabilities

I’m 47, and thinking about midlife. I have this precautionary statement on repeat: Don’t inherit liabilities. Work toward reversing any “issues” that trend toward liability. Because where do I want to be in a decade? What will have made all the difference at 57, which happens to be when my youngest turns 18. What then? I’m preoccupied with that question (and acting accordingly). That sums up the reason “why” I’m choosing to post here, and will be documenting and unpacking around this topic.