Conquer anything with 4 easy reminders

Every time a discussion comes up around Emma and I's productivity, someone asks the same question: "How do you manage it?" Their expressions range from perplexed to impressed and amused to confused. Hard to blame them, really. We both went back to school at the same time in our 30's, with a frugal-but-we-only-live-once lifestyle to fund, a newborn, and a host of other curveballs.

<not for the faint of heart>

To our immense pleasure, we celebrated Emma's graduation this week and the end of a long chapter.

As I watched her walk across the stage, I was hit with wave after wave of love, awe and admiration for this wonderful woman and all she has been through. It feels like yesterday that we were debating the merits of her going back to school, and the struggles it may bring.

Yesterday quickly turns into tomorrow, however, so I decided to write this for all those pondering their future. Dream big. You can do anything, and all it takes are four simple reminders.

#1—make a plan.

Change usually costs money, so it pays to be meticulous here. Write out all the costs you can foresee, versus the money you've saved and loans you can borrow. Can you trim expenses? Delay that vacation a couple years? Get a roommate? Creativity pays dividends here!

#2—keep your eyes on the prize.

You're going to have doubts along the way. You might get wooed off course by instant gratification. That's not why you decided to make this big change. Remember why you wanted it, and what it means to you. I've found journaling to have unmatched value here. You need to keep your monkey-brain on track by reminding it, day after day, what you dream of and how you're going to get there.

#3—survive.

Don't forget to take breaks and play the long game. And survive experiences that frustrate you, experiences that make you question everything, and some that so very nearly break you.

It starts with 2020, as you realize you didn't account for COVID and all that word would come to mean. Classes are now online. On the bright side, you bought a 1970s home that needs work. You can multitask! You learn from your wife's grandad (who is also one of her best friends) how to paint like a pro.

Next, support your wife as she helps her grandad with his heart and other health issues. See the grief as she understands his problems on a deeper level, but maintain your optimism. Celebrate as she starts a new relaxing job after years of high workload and stress. Sigh in defeat as she is redeployed back to days & nights on the ICU, before her first pay cheque clears. COVID ravages the healthcare system.

Realize life is short and nothing is guaranteed, so you decide to try for a child.

Get pregnant within the first month. You feel nothing but joy paired with did-we-actually-do-this-holy-crap. Get a text that she is at work and is having cramping and bleeding. Listen to a lecture in class while trying not to freak out, and to process what that means. Receive the update: there's still a heartbeat.

Relax and hope that it means nothing. Get an ultrasound. Find out that you were having twins, but there's only one heartbeat left. Realize you feel nothing, and have no idea why. Console your wife who feels everything.

Laugh as she bickers with her grandad as he paints future-baby's nursery. Realize they are so very, very alike. Watch helplessly as she juggles school, ICU nursing & emergency trips to monitor baby's heartrate. Manage what you can: school, house, dogs, the works.

After 42 weeks and a 16-hour day, the time has come. But baby won't come out, complications are on the horizon, so you're given the choice of a c-section now or in six hours. You and your wife make the choice-that-isn't-a-choice and you welcome a baby boy into the world. Watch in horror as the nurses immediately leave you alone with a baby. Realize you are not prepared for this… but boy is he special.

While you're in a sleep-deprived trance, the night staff are having a serious conversation with your wife. Something didn't go as planned. They use words like hemorrhaging and blood loss. Hold her hand as they do what looks like CPR on her abdomen and she makes a sound that breaks your heart. Realize childbirth is only the beginning. Endure the longest 48-hours of your life, which still pales in comparison to hers.

Days after having a child, juggle the baby between your day classes and her evening classes. Second-guess the decisions that led you here. Endure jaundice, latching problems and more stress than either of you have ever gone through.

Get to know your child. Learn more about yourself in four months than in the 31-years prior. Go from not-really-being-a-kid-person to definitely-a-kid-person.

Get a text message. Something happened, her grandad is breathing but isn't responding, you need to come now. All your stresses and problems evaporate in an instant. Feel your heart break for the second time this year as you see one of the most charismatic, impactful & loving humans you've ever met laying still on a bed. Realize you would do anything for more time, and to hear more stories.

Go home. Learn that he is talking again, the spark of hope ignites. The grief on her face douses it. Short days later, the world loses a wonderful soul. Realize you've bottled every emotion up for so many years, and they try to trickle out—no time for that. Try to do what you think you know best: support.

Enjoy the anarchy and beauty of childhood in summer. Laugh more than you have in years. Feel your heart grow with every day. Get a great job in the field you went to school for. Prepare to shoulder more of the burden for your wife, as she has a long road ahead between her master's degree & work.

Get a call from your dad. You don't have a great relationship. He's been battling cancer for 7 years, and is finally defeated and beginning MAID. Reflect on how much joy your dogs and your newborn gave him. Wonder if he wished he'd walked a different path, been a different father, lived a different life. Know he isn't capable of giving those answers.

Get another text. He's in the hospital, something happened, you need to come now. Wonder how many of these texts you will receive in a year, in a lifetime. Learn that he has low blood oxygen paired with immense pain due to the laundry-list of failing organs and medications he takes. He wants to expedite the MAID program. Despite everything, your wife takes the lead on logistics. She recommends a course of action & supplies needed for home care.

Because of your frayed relationship, her assistance is denied at the last minute. You and your brothers won't be there when it happens, either. Saturday arrives, and you try to cram 32-years of emotion into one conversation. Despite the years of anger, resentment and every flavour of emotion, all that remains is grief.

Get one more text—it's done.

Stay busy, like you've always done. Everything is fine. Except your patience with your son is dropping. The time between getting home from work and his bed time become dreaded. Realize you're becoming your dad, and you don't know how to stop it. Feel the guilt at thinking that thought. Realize your patience with everything and everyone is evaporating. Wonder why you had a kid, and why your wife is with you. A familiar cloud settles over you that you thought you'd long abandoned.

Still no time for that. Process your dads belongings & prepare to sell his house.

Try to help your wife as she suffers through post-birth complications. Realize you are not managing the stress of it all well. Sleepless nights, endless frustration, irrational arguments. Yet another text arrives—your mom's sister was just killed by a drunk driver. Accept that these texts will never stop coming.

Life is short and unforgiving… you need to live for more.

Spend your hot summer days in crisp, cold lakes, on horseback rides and on summiting mountains. Discover what you love, and who you are—like finding your love of writing. Pull the stopper off your cracked vial of emotional baggage and immediately regret it. Spend months being a volatile husband, bouncing from real happiness to epiphanies to anger to the deep, biting cold of depression and isolation. Yet again, wonder why she is with you.

You feel a monumental pile of guilt on top of everything else for being a burden, but you realize you might not be here if you don't share this with her. Rather than judging you, she does what she always has: loves. She listens and accepts. More than anything, she reminds you that she's there. You'll figure it out together.

And so you do. The sun rises, your kid grows and life unfurls. Struggles keep coming—like your roof leaking three times—but that's life. Despite all of the crap that can come our way, there is an endless river of beauty to admire. Mountains of curiosity to be summited. An ocean of relationships to spark, nurture and appreciate.

Feel the stresses of yesterday start to drift further away. Not gone, not yet, but they don't feel so heavy, either. All you have eyes for are this moment, and the next, and the one after that. You've been through a lot—individually and together—yet you made it.

You're still here.

And that's more than enough.

#4—adapt.

Occasionally, a curveball will come your way that no amount of planning or cleverness can avoid. All we can do is adapt, reflect and move forward.