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New Father: I am the lone line of defense between my offspring and the harsh world. I would give my life for my child. I am on high alert, everything I have done in my life has led to this and I am ready to do whatever it takes to provide for them. I will install this seat with the care of a surgeon mechanic warrior poet. It will carry the very embodiment of my legacy.

New Mother: i’m just gonna go ask a hunky fireman to buckle this seat in.

There are (at least) two types of guard rails.

The first kind is the kind you see. The big, curvy, silver galvanized metal barriers that are put up on the sides of highways. They are used leading up to and out of an overpass, or along curves that might be more dangerous than usual. They are hopefully never used. They are important, but only needed if a driver has lost control.

The other kind is the kind you don’t see. They are laid just inside railroad tracks at key points. They are used at turns, merges and other places where the rail wheels might lose contact with the track. They provide a boundary, a way to secure the train as it turns. They are used often and helpfully so. They are important because they prevent the loss of control.

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That thing you’re scared to do?

It’s because it’s risky, right?

It could go wrong. It could be embarrassing. It could lose money. That’s the risk.

But if it goes right? Turns out, there’s risk there, too.

It could work–at first–then fail.

It could make money–then lose more.

It turns out risk is at the next step too. And the next. And the next.

It sounds overwhelming, until you realize you are where you are now because of all the risks you’ve already taken. In fact, you’ve taken risks more than you realize. For that matter, life is a risk. Work risks time, effort risks energy, love risks rejection.

You are a pro when it comes to taking risk – so much so that you do it daily without even knowing it!

That current risk doesn’t seem so big now, does it?

The marks on the pantry wall, just inside the door frame, each have a name and a date marked next to them.

The marks that are close together are 4 years apart – the difference in age between my brother and me.

Then his marks get much higher than mine.

This is what we learn growth means. More. More height. More knowledge. More ability. More degrees. More money.

But more is a trap.

At some point, growth is the ability to be more – not do more, not have more.

I can be more myself today, and there is no other growth – physical, monetary, admiration – that will make me more myself than that being. Whether that being is discovered by action, reflection, receiving and giving love, or any number of ways is the joy of the journey. It will probably change often.

But the mistake is to replace the journey of growth with the pursuit of more.

(30 Rock had the best lines)

Substack is cool, it’s trying to build its own ecosystem. A lot of writers who write on Substack say they love writing on Substack. 
I like it okay.

The technological advantage that t has, in theory, is the network effect. If I was a diligent writer I’d be writing often, reading often, making friends. Then I’d be linking to their Substacks and they’d link to mine. 
And so it goes.

I have followed a few of those links and been richly rewarded.
I have followed others and lost time I’ll never get back.

It is a funny thing, this “following” we all do now. I “follow” on Instagram, Substack, email, etc. But part of following is trust. If I give you a follow, I trust you’ll either benefit my time or at the very least, do no harm.

So when Substacks lead to bizarro left fields, I feel betrayed. Like I was lied to. Maybe it’s because I was around for the html early days, when typing a link was work. It means more to me.

Plus, the colors distract me from following the writer’s line of thought.

So, link well, friends. 
And never follow a link from someone you don’t trust. 
You don’t know where it’s been.