Last time, in the first installment of the 3-part series about the name of this blog, I talked about the first part, “Brad Neese,” and what that means to the blog’s personality and purpose. This time, I want to talk about the significance of the second part of the blog name…
“…Living Large…”
As you may or may not be able to tell from the portrait at the top of the homepage, I am a big boy… a really big boy. “Well, how big a boy are ya?” Roy D. Mercer might ask. It’s too embarrassing to outright tell you what I weighed on the bathroom scales this morning, so I’ll tell you what I would weigh on the moon, which sounds much nicer: 56.2 pounds — now you go figure the math! When Oklahoma City’s mayor shared with the world about his challenge to city residents to lose a combined 1 million pounds by the end of this year, he had me in mind. I’m convinced that he got the idea after seeing me walk in downtown Oklahoma City and was counting on me to account for a significant percentage of that 1 million pound goal. Well, okay, that’s not really true, but I did take it a little personally when he told the world that we were one of the fattest cities in the country and needed to go on a diet. I hate diets, as is evidenced by my ever-expanding girth. And at times I can be little sensitive when people make comments about my size.
I’ve always been overweight. I was a fat baby. I was a pudgy kid growing up in school — always called fat, even when I wasn’t all that much above the norm. Even when I was at my leanest, which was in college around the time that I met and married Karla, I was still overweight — and that was while I was dieting and exercising a lot — which is a little disconcerting when you think about it. If I couldn’t get to my ideal weight when I was on a strict diet and solid, daily exercise program during my college-aged years, what hope do I have now of ever making it?
While I would love to lose weight (and will strive this year to do just that), I am what I am and I will make the most of what I am and who I am. As I said last time, I am proud of who I am, even as a large man. And as a large man, by definition, I am “living large.”
As I thought about the name, I loved the double entendre. Not only was I living in my largeness, I am striving to truly live life to the fullest — “living large!” As I considered whether the double meaning was truly what I thought it meant, I did some reading around the Internet and found a lot of different meanings for living large, some related to weight like I did here, others referred to spending habits (which would likely apply to me as well) and others meant it the way this writer did and the way I was meaning it as well:
Living large to me means exploring all your talents and not being afraid to attempt them. It means taking chances and not only rejoicing in your accomplishments, but taking your mistakes and using them as a great life experience. It means not having any regrets and enjoying everything life has to offer, the good and the bad.
I think that applies to me as well, especially in the last few years. I’m trying to get the most out of my life. I’ve purposely adjusted my attitude to try to be more positive, to be more joyful (and pleasant to be around), and to be more flexible about life circumstances. I am more content and more at peace than I’ve ever been. I try to be the smile in my workplace when others look like they aren’t so happy. I diligently strive to expand my horizons, both professionally and personally, so that I’m constantly growing and improving myself. I am making the most of the time God has blessed me with — trying to savor every precious moment with my growing (much too fast) daughters, trying to treasure every moment with my bride and trying to appreciate every moment of my life as much as possible because I realize that once that moment has passed, you never have another chance to live it.
So, I believe that I am truly “living large” in every sense of the phrase. And as you follow along my life story as it unfolds, perhaps if I put my whole mind to it, I can live life larger in a much smaller frame. Stay tuned!
Read Part 3 — “What’s in a name”
On this day, at this moment, 39 years ago, a child was born in Pensacola, Florida to a young military family — a U.S. Navy pilot and his bride. They dragged led him around this great country throughout his childhood years, affording him the opportunity to experience the rich culture and traditions of its many states, from Florida to Texas to Florida to Virginia to South Carolina to Kansas to the middle of nowhere in western Kansas to Illinois to Indiana to Oklahoma. From living the nomadic life of a military brat to the nomadic life of a rural-church pastor to the nomadic life of a military brat (again), from the times of plenty to the times of famine, it was an adventure never to be forgotten (and hopefully never repeated).
