Every once in a while, everything you’ve said yes to comes due at the exact same time.
I’ve been thinking a lot about how much rearranging it takes to keep a life running – switching shifts, asking for help, trading days, stacking commitments, and trying to make all the moving parts line up without knocking anything over. Between two bands, running CRACKYL, being a dad, a husband, and a firefighter, the math eventually catches up. That’s where I’m standing now: staring down a two-week work bender to pay back the shifts I deferred. I don’t even want to calculate the hours. All I know is my calendar looks like a Tetris board of obligations, and the only way out is through.
This is usually the point where things get overwhelming. Not because I’m unwilling, but because it feels like the cost of doing everything I care about arrives all at once. It’s the moment where the demands start trying to define you before the work even begins. That’s when self-talk matters. That’s when I have to decide whether I’m looking at a burden or an opportunity.
Reframing the Demands
Working with different crews, reconnecting with people I haven’t seen in months, being part of different rhythms and conversations – these aren’t inconveniences. They’re reminders that I still get to do a job I care about, surrounded by people I respect. But I have to show up with the right mindset. If I let myself slip into resentment or exhaustion before I even start, then I become the guy who doesn’t want to be there. That’s not who I am. That’s not who I want to be for my crew. And if I’m not careful, I fall into the same trap so many firefighters do – giving the best of myself to the work and coming home with whatever scraps are left.
A big part of staying ahead of that is recognizing when I’m facing a bottleneck and reframing it before it swallows me. I need to understand how I got there – not to blame myself, but to see the pattern. Sometimes the only way through is to change the angle I’m approaching it from. I’ve always admired how Michael Jordan would invent something – a comment, a slight, a look – to ignite his focus when it mattered most. I do a version of that, too. Not to win a championship, but to win at life. If the challenge is already in front of me, I might as well build a story that makes me want to take it on. If I’m going to do the work anyway, I might as well find a way to enjoy it. There’s power in deciding the frame before the moment decides it for you.
These shifts also break up the daily grind; they interrupt the routine I’ve built around my life and the job. The change of rhythm becomes a reset I didn’t know I needed. There’s something about diving into calls, jumping on the rig, and submerging myself in a different kind of pace that almost feels like a mental vacation – it pulls me out of my head and right back into the moment.
Choosing Presence
Part of that is because, in the publishing world, I’m constantly thinking months ahead. I’m already deep into our summer issue, which means Christmas has already happened in my mind, winter is over, spring has passed, and we’re halfway through next year before it even arrives. I had Christmas six months ago in my head. That’s the publishing brain. Stepping into a stretch of shifts gives me the opposite experience. It forces presence. Calls come in and I don’t know what they are. That uncertainty pulls me into real time. It’s a completely different way of moving through the day, one that feels grounding in a way I wasn’t expecting. It’s funny, because usually we’re burnt out from the job and the workload. Yet here I am, actually looking forward to getting back on the rig. I didn’t plan for that shift to happen, but I’m grateful it did. It’s a reminder that when you choose presence, the moment becomes more manageable, even when everything else doesn’t.
I’m also clear my family deserves the same energy I give to keeping my commitments. They didn’t ask for the fallout of a busy calendar; they’re just living inside the consequences of my ambitions. So instead of talking about it, I know I need to step up in my own mind and stay connected. If I’m away, I have to make the effort to check in, to follow along in their lives as best I can. And when I am home, I need to make sure they get real energy from me, not whatever scraps are left after the job and the schedule take their share. That part is on me.
I keep reminding myself of something I’ve seen play out repeatedly: we rarely get in trouble for the things we do. We get in trouble for the things we avoid. The skipped moments, the quiet resentment, the version of ourselves that comes home depleted and disconnected. The more intentional I am with my energy, the more the people around me feel the benefit instead of the burnout.
Protecting Energy and Identity
As I head into these two weeks, I’m setting one intention: if these shifts take something from me, I will rebuild it. If they drain my energy, I’ll restore it before I walk through the door at home. If the pace speeds up, I won’t let it distort who I’m becoming. Sometimes you build things. Sometimes you tear things down to make space. Sometimes you just shoulder the responsibility because it’s your turn. None of it means you’re losing. None of it means you’re failing. It just means life is full – and full comes with a cost. But if I protect who I am inside all of it, none of it gets to define me.
I’ve always believed winners find a way. That doesn’t mean they don’t get tired. It means they don’t hand the wheel to tiredness. I don’t plan on losing to overwhelm, a schedule, or the story in my head that wants to tell me this is too much. It isn’t. It’s just another hill. It’s time to climb it.
And the truth is, even with all that said – even with the good attitude, the reframing, the preparation, the expectations – I know life doesn’t always play along. Chaos shows up when it wants. The only real power you have is deciding the kind of person you’ll be when it does. I’m leaving room to be surprised, for something to fall in my lap that I wasn’t expecting, something that could make this stretch even more challenging. That’s reality.
This could all go sideways in the first five minutes of my shift. I don’t know. I don’t have to know. I’m not pretending otherwise. I’m simply choosing how I’m going to show up. It’s not a fairy-tale mindset. It’s just real, and it’s what works for me. The job asks you to meet the moment, not predict it. And most of the time, when you meet the moment, the moment meets you back.
