I'm Matt Epsky and this is our weekly GoodGuys2GreatMen Woodshop Wisdom email. I want to do something different for the next twelve Monday emails.
I want to share with you my personal first twelve steps to being a better father, husband (someday again), brother, and friend.
This might be a little goofy for some and some of you might not even celebrate Christmas, but this idea came to me, and I wanted to write about 12 powerful insights I had.
I hope you can relate to them, and I hope they help you move forward.
So here it is. Sing along if you like. 😊
On these 12 days of Christmas, the insights shared from me…
12. 40 more years of living,
11. A renewed confidence,
10. A brotherhood to guide me,
9. A bunch of ladies dancing,
8. A new way of being,
7. Clarity on my values,
6. Forgiveness for my partner,
5. Forgiveness foooorrrr myyyyyselllffff,
4. The willingness to seek help,
3. An open heart and mind,
2. A foundation of love,
1. And a feeling I will be okay.
Gift #1
A feeling I will be okay.
For many of us this journey starts with a shocking, out of the blue, life changing moment of pure pain and anguish. Some call it devastating. Others have described it like a bomb going off. Piles of rubble and family destruction seem to be everywhere. It’s hard to see anything through the smoke and shattered
pieces of your relationship, scattered into shards laying on the ground in a form of puzzle you desperately want to put back together.
I felt all those feelings.
I know I felt hopelessly lost.
For me, my bottom came a few weeks after the shock of separation. It is when I went pain hunting to finally prove to everyone that I was the worthless, unmanly, angry pile of crap that my inner voice was constantly telling me I was.
Unfortunately, a desperate person always seems to find what they’re looking for.
I was looking for proof that I was all those pathetic attributes and more.
I found that proof in the text messages and phone calls from the “other man.”
Yes brothers, I’ve been there too.
It sent me into a tailspin of despair and anguish. I was quite literally having a panic attack. I couldn’t breathe, I was shaking, I was crying, and was I yelling at the world.
The voices in my head kept at it, berating me, punishing me, reminding me how worthless I was.
I was so alone. Destined to feel alone forever.
*Insert brief, spiritual, whisper of clarity through the noise*
Wait…I was alone. For a brief moment I saw something different. It was so quiet I could have missed it.
I was alone and the pain kept getting worse and worse.
Nothing had changed outside of me, but something flickered inside of me.
I was alone and causing myself this much pain.
I was alone and I was the one listening to all this negative talking in my head.
I was alone and I suddenly realized no one was going to save me.
No one was coming to help me.
No one even knew what it was I was going through.
It was on me to change this. That felt powerful for a quick second. It was on me.
The sadness was still excruciating but I got a quick glimpse that I was okay and the power to change belonged solely in my hands.
I felt empty and lost and confused, but for some reason I was okay. I was still here.
I felt alone and scared, but I was okay. I could still breath…barely.
I felt like I didn’t know what to do or where to go. I felt like I did everything wrong for my first forty years, but suddenly that was okay too.
Landing at the lowest point in my life, my chosen bottom, found me letting go of all the shit I thought I had to do right in order to find love.
It felt like I suddenly had a blank canvas to start over. Almost like I died and was about to be reborn into something new. I had no clue what that was to look like, but I was okay knowing that it would be different.
I was okay, just like you are right now brother.
Recognize that.
You are okay.
Let that open you up to what is next.
The second gift I want to share next week is what I started to fill that empty okay-ness with.
Thoughts From The Woodshop
Projects always start with a piece of wood, the raw material. A blank canvas of opportunity.
At the core of this project is the underlying fact that there is really nothing wrong with the piece of wood.
It’s okay.
In its rough lumber form, it has the potential to be anything.
It’s up to the craftsmen to decide how to shape it into something.
I think our lives are quite similar.
You are okay, you have the potential to be anything, and you are a masterpiece waiting to be crafted.
