I’d Change My Ability to Let Things Go a Little Faster

“You have power over your mind — not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.”

by Beebop

If there’s one thing I’d change about myself, it’s my ability to let things go.
I don’t mean the big stuff — the heavy emotional things you carry around for years. Believe it or not, I’m actually getting better at that. Age has a way of sanding down your sharp edges, like an old piece of furniture that’s been refinished a few too many times.

No, what I’m talking about is everything else.

My brain has always been wired like a retail emergency hotline. For decades I ran thirteen big-box stores, which meant I lived in permanent triage mode. When you’re juggling staffing shortages, shrink reports, district visits, and a forklift that just knocked over a holiday display, your mind becomes very selective about what counts as a “real” problem.

Leaky faucet at home?
Not even on the radar.

Leaves piling up in the yard?
Didn’t see them.

Weeds taking over the garden?
What garden?

It’s not that I didn’t care — I literally didn’t notice. My brain filtered out anything that wasn’t on fire, exploding, or threatening to reduce quarterly sales.

But now that I’m retired?
Good lord.

Every day something new jumps out at me like it’s auditioning for a home-improvement horror film.

A crooked light switch plate?
“That’s it — we’re all gonna die.”

A tiny scuff on the baseboard?
“Call 911. We’ve got a situation.”

A leaf on the walkway?
“How long has this been here? Who’s running this place?!”

You’d think I was managing a facility the size of Giants Stadium instead of a house built in 1963.

The truth is, I can’t let anything go — not until it’s fixed, straight, cleaned, tightened, or replaced. And my mind can only focus on a few “big issues” at a time, which makes everything else magically disappear. When I was younger, those big issues were things like sales numbers and employee drama.

Today, they’re things like:

• “Why is the garage door making that noise?”
• “That fence post is leaning 1.5 degrees to the left.”
• “Is that a crack… or a shadow? Hold on, let me get my glasses.”

That’s the irony: I finally have the time to notice everything, and now I wish I didn’t notice quite so much.

If I could change one thing about myself, it’d be learning to walk past a minor problem without adopting it like a stray kitten.
To look at a weed and just… keep going.
To see a loose screw and think, “Eh, tomorrow.”

But knowing me, tomorrow will become its own project — because something else in the house will pop up that I’m convinced needs my attention right now.

Maybe the real issue isn’t that I can’t let things go.
Maybe it’s that my brain still thinks it’s running a district and refuses to clock out.

Either way, I’m working on it.
One crooked light switch at a time.

And speaking of which — the heater went out yesterday, and we’re running low on firewood.
Oops… there I go again.