Two Sides to Everything

I’ve lived a one-sided life for the most part. What I mean by that is most everything I’ve done—most decisions I’ve made, most outcomes I’ve pursued—have all been about me.

And honestly? That’s an easy place to live. Why wouldn’t it be? It’s your life—so why shouldn’t your choices benefit you?

For me, I think I did this without even realizing it. It was automatic. But now, knowing that my time might be limited—and just to be clear, all of us are on limited time—there’s been a twist in how I look at things. A shift in how I process decisions. Every one of them.

Friday Night: One Bad Move

Friday night, I was heading over to a buddy’s house. Okay, full disclosure—it was for poker. But traffic wasn’t cooperating. As I was merging onto the freeway, cars were backed up and barely moving.

That’s when I spotted it.

To my left: a wide-open stretch—no traffic, just space. The catch? I’d have to cut across solid white lines and into what’s technically considered an emergency lane. I knew it. I just didn’t care.

So, I went for it. I let “Mr. Impatient,” who I had stuffed away somewhere in my personality closet, crawl out of his bin and take the wheel.

And right on cue: flashing blue lights, a quick blip of the siren.

Busted.

For a second, I actually looked over at the HOV lane and considered hitting the gas, thinking if I did get caught, I could pull the ol’ “pitiful cancer card” to maybe dodge any real trouble.

Of course, that’s not what I did. And I hope you know me well enough by now to know that.

Instead, I didn’t even wait for the state trooper to get behind me—I slowly started easing over to the right and pulled over. I knew what I had done. I knew he was coming. And I sure wasn’t going to outrun the state patrol in freeway traffic.

So, there I sat on the shoulder, watching all the cars I’d tried to jump ahead of now pass me by.

Funny how that works.

Why It’s Still on My Mind

It’s Sunday now, and I can’t stop thinking about what happened Friday. Why is it still bothering me?

Because it reminded me of something much deeper.

A close friend of mine is facing a tough situation. I won’t go into their details without permission, but what I will say is this: they’re having to make some incredibly difficult decisions in a very tight window of time.

To get to where they want to go, two things need to happen:

1. The road they’re on needs to become a two-way street—no medians, just connection.
2. They’re going to need time. And I’m not sure they believe they have enough of it.

I relate to both.

I have a goal I want to reach before I get my final fist bumps and high-fives. And I’ve realized that to do that, my road also needs to be a two-way street. I also have to be patient—something I’ve never been good at.

These are two things I wouldn’t have even considered six months ago. But now? I’m learning. I’m trying. I’m far from perfect, but I’ve made more progress than I ever have before.

In the past, I’d have already sprinted at the goal, tripped halfway, and failed. That’s been my rhythm. Failure doesn’t usually bother me.

Until now.

The New Process

These days, I don’t jump as quickly. I slow down and run things through this filter:

• What’s the issue?
• What are all the options?
• What are the potential outcomes?
• Then—and only then—do I make a decision.

It’s amazing how “Penthouse Dude” (that wiser version of myself upstairs) steps in when I give him space. When I trust him. When I trust the road—even the one with all the broken streetlights—somehow, the lights come back on.

Enter: Two and a Half Men (Yes, Really)

Here’s the kicker. Friday night, after all that drama, I went to bed and did what I always do: restarted Two and a Half Men from Season 1, Episode 1. For probably the 20th time.

I’ve watched that show so many times, I can close my eyes and recite the script word-for-word. Pathetic? Maybe. Am I going to stop? Absolutely not.

And in that very first episode, Alan and Judith are separating. Alan doesn’t want it. He suggests they work through their issues. He proposes a list—on one side, this could happen; on the other side, that could happen.

And just like that, I realized: That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do—weigh the options, see the outcomes, and make a choice. Penthouse Dude knew I’d be back at episode one. Knew I’d hear that line. Knew it’d land exactly when I needed it.

To My Friend: One Step at a Time

My friend is facing a complex road. It’ll take deep thought, honest reflection, and real patience. They’ll need to take a step—just one—and map out all the ways that step could go.

Then, pick the one that feels right. Not perfect. Just right enough to get started.

Because here’s what I’ve learned: even when you think through everything, you’ll still make a wrong step at some point. And that’s okay.

What matters is whether you’re willing to go back, redo it, and keep going. That’s the test. Not perfection. Just perseverance.

Think about baseball: the greats fail to hit the ball 70% of the time. Are they getting paid to fail? Or to step back up to the plate over and over, knowing failure is likely—but swinging anyway?

Final Thought (And My Favorite Get-Out-of-Jail Line)

To my friend: I believe in you.
Make it happen.
Put up the fight.
Don’t quit.
Play it all out with your Penthouse Dude. Accept the missteps. Learn from them. Keep going.

Your road is tough. So is mine. But the destination? Still within reach.

Oh—and in case you were wondering, I was given a verbal warning and sent on my way. I’ve actually gotten a lot of those in my life. And I’m pretty sure it’s because when the officer asks,
“Sir, do you know why I pulled you over?”
I always answer:
“Because I’m an idiot?”
Seems to work.