I love doing things for the first time.

Many moons ago, I asked our superstar editor and my partner at KL, Stephanie, if she thought we should give this forum to one of our readers occasionally for a guest post. She pushed back on me. I’m not sure she thought you’d be into it.

Then, Gavin, one of our regular readers and commenters began to impress with his thoughtful, smooth articulate style, and I figured I had to engage in the battle with Steph. After a little back and forth, we collectively decided Gavin deserved a shot to capture your attention as our first ever “reader post.”

Here it is. Let us know if you think we should do more of this.

Strong mind,

Kap

Sometimes, we read a piece of writing that alters of the course of our lives.

I enjoy the occasional e-mails from my friend of 30+ years. He’s a baseball coach, so it’s cool to hear his stories involving guys whose baseball cards we collected (okay, hoarded) in the 1980s. He sent me an email in 2013 containing a link to an article, essentially a character study of him.

I read and re-read this detailed piece. I was blown away by three things: a) the author’s capture of the essence of a quintessential “you just have to know him” person, b) the author’s astute premise regarding industry conventions and those who reject them, and c) the writing and analytical skills of a former ball player. (I understand the author has since developed quite a following on his “lifestyle” blog. Keep meaning to find that thing.)

The piece had still larger meaning. I didn’t have his particular skill set, yet I know we view life much the same way. Compared to him, had I settled into a comfortable but uninspiring career without really testing myself?

The article gave me a timely shot of confidence and inspiration. Five years prior, I received a sobering medical diagnosis. It wasn’t devastating to learn that my subtle, constant tremor appeared to be Parkinson’s disease, at least not after getting past that daunting label. I quickly learned that the degenerative process would take some time, but it was given that life would soon become more challenging (“Hey, Gavin’s finally here,” said the existence of anything ever). At the time of diagnosis, I had a 3-year old at the plate and another child in the, well, let’s say due up in the inning.

Five years in, challenge and I were kind of becoming a thing. Maintaining my workload was now difficult. My body was getting really pissy with me about work and the demands I asked of it. I had planned to cling to my job, but I was beaten down.

Ever been pretty good at something only to fade to ordinary at best? If so, then you know how I felt. But here’s the interesting part. I actually believe my work was better than ever. It was the slower pace creating problems.

The writing on the wall was now five years old. I would lose my fastball. But I had to figure out a way to keep pitching. I could cut my production some, but I simply had to devise better ways of completing the same tasks. (Life really began to evolve when I pushed on the doors of Were those tasks even necessary? and Could better products be created that I could do better than anyone?)

The previously cited author often describes finding value where others don’t and harvesting it from the margins. I already knew those lessons and was intent on mining my own value as thoroughly as Google mines my web history. My body was slowing, aching and drug-dependent. Yet behind this I was making amazing discoveries about the power of the mind and spirit.

I determined there must be something better. So I left my 14-year job. I stayed in the profession, but now was in the business, my own business, of generating, constructing and implementing ideas. I struggled to be ordinary, so I committed to being extraordinary.

Forced to act, I responded. When my abilities became compromised, I adapted. When pushed, I embraced creativity. What I’ve lost has been generally replaceable. What I’ve gained has been invaluable.

Now, I’m living, not just existing. Questioning boundaries. Fighting. Appreciating. I’m absorbing more distress, but growing in understanding. To become comfortable is to become complacent. Comfort held me back all those years.

If you’ve read our posts for any length of time, you know that we advocate pushing boundaries. It is worth reminding ourselves that our tastes are ever evolving, not locked onto a fixed point. You never know when you might stumble into an experience that changes your perceptions, unless you’re not willing to take a risk. Leap outside your comfort zone.

So it’s all grass-fed milk and honey since, right? This ain’t Hollywood. Professionally, it’s been industrially-processed piss and bee stings. It’s been daily anxiety about the future of my family and the lasting memory of me I am sketching for them. It’s been make or break, but I have continually doubled-down on “make.”

For better or worse, I stayed on course. Sometimes inspiring messages from the like-minded were the fuel: It’s a process. Don’t fear failure. Stay true. Focus. Connect with your children. Fall in love with a plum? No judging. A definitively positive (and occasionally comical) message every single day – often seemingly directed at that day’s particular vulnerability. In-freaking-valuable.

In case you’re wondering, piss and bee stings are that bad. But if arrogance is muted, adverse forces also build up strength and character beyond recognition. I’m certain. It’s your life. Design it for your success. I do highly recommend the path of least congestion and spectacular scenery - Unconventional.

The universe is funny. My hunch is she deals from a new deck each hand, but streaks will randomly occur. My same swings have recently resulted in solid contact.

I’m funny, too. Perhaps my adjustments are so subtle that they’re indistinguishable. Nevertheless, I’ve rallied and am progressing on a project that will be one of the most important, hopefully rewarding, of my life. Nobody else has traveled my singular path. Nobody brings the perspective I have been blessed to accumulate. I’m perfectly willing to take the risks of transparency, confronting convention and calling bullshit on the deceptive and unjust. There’s my value. Oh, and hear ye, please summons Mirror to my high horse post haste.

Some assortment of successes and failures will be a constant. I cannot usually control outcomes. I can endeavor to appreciate every moment, exactly as it should be (See Gabe Kapler’s locker; circa 2004). Thanks, G.