A piece of folded paper. The outside says, "Genesis 1:26" (Time and the Rocking Chair mini-story). by Dr. Tyrone Ceaser


(A piece of paper fell from the rocking chair. It was a folded piece of paper. Below was what was written inside. . .)

I was never taught not to care about what other people thought about me. 

I was never taught patience, kindness, and gentleness.

I was never taught that credit was more important than strip club spending, or that the only significant air Air Force One I needed to be knowledgeable about was the one that would take me to the hoop.

But I was certainly taught that the dirtiest dog gets the bone. That the world sees color. And that Jesus was too good to be black. I was certainly taught that the more girls the better, that Weedsmoke is the best smoke, and that a desert eagle solves all of my problems. 

Ok, Ok. Foster care reared a little discipline somewhere in there. 

Then, education gave me a glimpse into the way the white man does things.
More education gave me a glimpse into how the government does things.

And more education gave me a glimpse into how the white man and the government rule the world.

All of a sudden, education (everyone respects degrees, right?) + foster care (because animals need taming) + black = 1,000 broken mirrors. 

It's a shame I can't see who I am. I'm spending too much time basking in your image.

That'll certainly cause me many, many problems...

Time and the rocking chair (a mini-story). by Dr. Tyrone Ceaser

rocking chair

I sat in my rocking chair today. It's a significant event for me because I hardly ever slow down enough to sit in my rocking chair. 

My rocking chair wears a lot of hats for me. It takes my postural instabilities, and for a moment, makes me feel as if I've never been unstable. My rocking chair suppresses my problems, my worries, and my insecurities. Quite frankly, I'm surprised my rocking chair is still capable of supporting my ass.

But today, I let it all go.

No, not my rocking chair. But everything I gave to it. I usually pick it all back up the moment I remove myself from the rocking chair. But today, for the first time ever, I saw everything I gave to my rocking chair - fall to the ground - and disappear. 

Time gave me the chance to be with my rocking chair. Time showed me how precious I was. Time showed me how transient my preciousness is. Time showed me that my rocking chair won't always be there. Time showed me that everything I gave to my rocking chair was beautiful, no matter how hard, how inconceivable, how sad, or how hideous those things appeared to be. 

As I removed myself from the rocking chair, in a few, fleeting moments, it all hit the ground. And even if my precious hand decides to pick them up again, it'll never be the same. 

Time made sure of that. And it made sure to show me why it(time) is most important. 

. . . If you'd like to see some of the things I dropped from the rocking chair, start with this letter that fell first.

The principal of reversibility by Dr. Tyrone Ceaser


It takes hard work to succeed. It takes even more hard work to CONTINUE to succeed over and over again.

I peer into the entrepreneurial world through my academic lens and wonder how many of these repeat ‘succeeders’ withstand failure and sustain success.

Of course - it’s not many of them to look at, but from my perspective, I respect perspective.

I’ve had (and continue to have) many failures. I start many things and fail at most of them. Sure, I learn things along the way. Sure, I get wiser, mentally fit and stronger.

But I have this one particular image in my mind - of what my success (not perfection) will look like. And until it is reached, I must continue to train.

And the moment I stop training won’t be the moment I lose my fitness. The moment I lose my fitness will be when I get comfortable.

The mind and body always remember what you do to it. Once it’s done, it can’t be undone. Ever.

Gut Check. by Dr. Tyrone Ceaser

gut check

Not many things in life metaphorically punch us in the gut. But if I’m George Foreman, reality if Muhammad Ali. So by the time I realize what’s happening, life has floated by like a butterfly and stung like a bee.

But this moment of realization gives me time to check me metaphorical gut.

Something astounding happens tomorrow with myself, my wife, and my son: each of us will begin a new venture - my wife and I with new jobs, and my son with a new school. Assuming all things happen for a reason, and in a sort of entropy-like manner, this is a point of significant reflection for me. For us.

I look around at my life - at this moment - and realize I’m not happy with the way the world has changed me. Some is me letting the world screw me, and then, some is me saying,

“F**K it all!"

Either way, my gut check hurt, because the truth hurts. Reality often times - hurts.

But what was it that the man from Galilee said…?


Folks. Be honest with yourselves. It’s my number one goal moving into these new territories. I can already feel the freedom from freeing.

Escape. For all the right, wrong reasons. by Dr. Tyrone Ceaser



I find the world acting as some sort of triage and/or specialized MD for every condition under the sun. Once something becomes popularized, media takes over, google and Facebook reinforce it, and force it into your mental reality. At leas that’s what they try to do. For example: automation, privacy, productivity, attention deficit, distraction.

Then, next comes: job loss to robots, self-realization, optimizing work spaces, silent retreat, minimalism.

Then, one is forced to think: “Damn. Is there something wrong with me?

As a result of reflecting on these things, I find myself wanting to escape for one of two reasons:

  1. I’ve allowed culture, anxiety, or some other stupid thing(s) to blind my way, or,

  2. Something about me needs to be fixed, and I’ve run out of strategies.

Seems like I found the common denominator:



I hate those nouns made pronouns in society. Maybe you should consider yours.

The progression principle of training. by Dr. Tyrone Ceaser

Try bringing a knife to a gunfight?

Yep, I tried it, and was sadly mistaken. Recent times through life-phase transitions taught me something similar:

Don’t bring the old, uncomfortable, sad sack-of-crap, still angered and resenting daddy - type man. Instead, bring the new, experienced, beat-up-but-still-fighting, wise, new-attitude, optimistic man.

This man has a fighting chance.

This is the most interesting and beautiful concept of resistance training: you determine the type of growth. But even the body outputs force in all the wrongly trained ways. Have you ever strained a muscle that’s been otherwise healthy all your life/