The Dream Behind “Home and Letting Go”
That image you’re looking at?
That wasn’t my reality.
That was my dream.
At the time, all I had was a garage man cave. Nothing fancy—but it was mine. I had my toys, a place to unwind, and a wall full of clocks.
And every one of those clocks…
had no hands.
Not because they were broken.
Because I took them off.
On purpose.
Because when I stepped into that space, I didn’t want time telling me what to do.
I already knew what it meant back then—
that was my escape.
The Vision I Never Got to Build
The image represents what I planned to build at the lake house.
A finished version of that garage dream. Something bigger. Something complete. A place where everything I enjoyed came together in one space.
The car.
The boat.
The golf cart.
The bar.
The atmosphere.
And those clocks with no hands—still there—reminding me that when I was in that space, time didn’t matter.
I was working toward it.
Building toward it.
But life had other plans.
When Life Changes Everything
In one year…
everything changed.
I went through a divorce.
And I retired from Walmart after 27 years.
Two major life events—both at the same time.
And just like that…
that dream ended.
The lake house? Sold.
The vision? Gone.
The future I had pictured? Rewritten overnight.
And the things that once filled that dream?
The 350Z—donated.
The boat—no longer mine.
The golf cart—sold.
At the time, it felt like I was losing everything I had worked toward.
“A Thousand Miles from Nowhere” Took On a New Meaning
There’s a song by Dwight Yoakam called A Thousand Miles from Nowhere that’s stuck with me through the years.
He sings:
“A thousand miles from nowhere…”
“Time don’t matter to me…”
Back then, I thought I understood those words.
To me, it meant having a place to go where I could forget everything else. A room where time didn’t exist.
But when life stripped that dream away…
those words hit different.
How “Time Doesn’t Matter” Changed
Back then, “time doesn’t matter” meant I could step into a room and leave it behind.
Now?
“Time doesn’t matter” means something deeper.
I don’t need a room anymore.
I don’t need an escape.
I don’t wear a watch—not because I don’t respect time—but because I don’t want to be controlled by it.
There’s a difference between escaping time…
and being at peace with it.
And it took losing that dream for me to finally understand that.
A New Meaning of Home and Letting Go
For a long time, I thought home was something you built.
Something you filled with things.
Something you created as a destination.
Now I know better.
Home isn’t a place.
It’s not a lake house.
It’s not a man cave.
It’s not what you own.
Home is who you’re with.
Today, I don’t need a place to get away from life.
Because I found someone I want to experience life with.
We don’t hide from the world…
we go see it.
Final Thoughts on Home and Letting Go
That dream?
It didn’t happen the way I planned.
But it gave me something more valuable than the finished version ever could have.
Perspective.
Because sometimes the things you lose…
are the very things that teach you what matters most.
And those clocks with no hands?
They still mean something to me.
Only now…
they don’t represent escape.
They represent freedom.
Because today, when I hear those words—
“Time don’t matter to me…”
I don’t think about a room I can go hide in.
I think about a life I don’t need to escape from.