A peak into a dyslexic mind

Bert Russell's entries offer a unique perspective on problem-solving, influenced by his experiences with dyslexia and ADHD. These writings provide a glimpse into how non-linear thinking can lead to creative solutions and a deeper understanding of life's metaphors. Join us in exploring these insightful reflections and find new ways to approach your own challenges.

Facing IT! – The Conference Room

by Bert Russell

Last day of June 2026 @ 8:31 PM

This morning I woke up feeling energized. Surprisingly, I had only managed about five and a half hours of sleep. I had fallen asleep in my recliner again, but that's still better than waking up with my forehead pressed against my keyboard.

I felt good.

I showered, got dressed, and made my breakfast and lunch to take to work. A Caesar salad with chunks of Al Pastor, a baked potato cut into bite-sized pieces, and tender sirloin steak mixed together with far too much I Can't Believe It's Not Butter spray. Unhealthy? Probably. Addictive? Absolutely. I topped it off with enough white pepper to make anyone sneeze and just a pinch of Himalayan Sea salt. Ever since my mild heart attack, salt has become something I respect.

I even left the house twenty-five minutes early.

It didn't matter.

Rush hour...an accident...people slowing down to rubberneck. Whatever the reason, I still arrived later than I had planned.

I hurried inside, walked faster than most people run, clocked in, and sat down in front of my four monitors. This week has been nonstop. Parcel routes, box trucks, straight trucks, and four different sizes of tractor-trailers spread across multiple states.

This is where I thrive.

Once I begin routing, the outside world disappears. My mind enters what I call tunnel vision. To most people, that sounds unhealthy. To me, it's probably my greatest strength. I can see hundreds of moving pieces, KPIs, driver availability, deadlines, and customer expectations, and somehow fit them all together.

About an hour into my morning, my boss and the transportation supervisor walked over.

"We need to talk."

Not in the office.

In the conference room.

For some reason, my anxiety exploded.

It didn't make sense. I know my job. I'm good at what I do. Statistically, I'm one of the strongest routings in the company. Our facility is one of the most profitable, and I've been told more than once that I'm a vital part of the operation.

So why was I suddenly nervous?

Maybe because somewhere in the back of my mind, I've already been questioning whether it's time to move on.

The truth is, I'm severely underpaid.

Ten years ago, driving a truck, I made more money than I do today sitting behind four computer screens making thousands of decisions every week. Inflation has gone through the roof, yet somehow, I've gone backward financially.

That thought has been living quietly in my mind for months.

The conference room simply brought it to the surface.

The conversation was about overtime.

Ironically, our overtime numbers are among the lowest in the company, even if they're about double what they were three and a half years ago.

But that wasn't how I heard it.

I heard criticism.

I heard questions about my routing.

I heard people telling me what I could have done differently.

And I got defensive.

Really defensive.

I take pride in what I do. I use my own cell phone for work. I've bought my own computer equipment to make myself more productive. I volunteer my time. I work overtime because I care. I genuinely want the company to succeed.

I don't settle.

I push for growth.

I told them exactly that.

Maybe I should have listened more.

Maybe they should have listened more too.

Routing isn't an exact science. It's an art. Every planner routes differently, just like no two fingerprints are alike. I don't like giving freight to third-party carriers when I know we can move it ourselves and make the company more money.

That frustration boiled over.

I walked out angry.

Without thinking, I headed straight to my vehicle looking for a cigarette.

It was pure instinct.

Then I started walking laps around the building, saying several things under my breath that probably shouldn't be repeated.

It was already hot, even though it was only nine o'clock in the morning. Sweat rolled into my eyes while, strangely enough, my hands felt cold.

Stress does funny things to the body.

Eventually, I calmed down.

As I walked, my anger slowly turned into reflection.

Why am I fighting so hard?

I have a vision for what this operation could become. I honestly believe it's achievable. I can see efficiencies that would improve the company, increase profits, and make everyone's jobs easier.

The problem is that I don't think anyone else sees what I see.

Then another realization hit me.

Maybe they can't.

Not because they're incapable.

Because I'm sitting in a position that doesn't have the authority to make those changes.

I'm trying to steer a ship while standing on the dock.

That's when the real question finally surfaced.

Am I frustrated because I'm in the wrong company...

Or because I'm in the wrong seat?

Maybe I've reached the point where there are only two directions left.

Build something of my own.

Or find a company willing to invest in the vision I already carry.

I don't know the answer yet.

But today reminded me that sometimes our greatest frustrations aren't warning us to quit.

Sometimes they're simply telling us that we've outgrown where we are.

That's something worth facing.

Want more writings from Bert Russell - check out - www.lakelife4u.com or www.h2Olifestyles.com or www.peace4allmankind.com

If you want a sneak peek of my novel? Memoir? go to www.lakelife4u.com (The Last Dispatch) 

Facing IT!

The Search Never Ends

by Bert Russell

Date: 6-29-2026 @ 11:30 PM

There are people who seem certain about everything.

I have never been one of them.

As a child, I asked questions until the people around me probably wished I would stop. My father would answer one question, only to hear another, and then another. I wasn't trying to challenge him. I wasn't trying to prove him wrong. I was trying to understand how everything fit together.

That hasn't changed.

For more than fifty years, I have collected moments, conversations, successes, failures, observations, and experiences. Every person I've met has unknowingly handed me another piece of the puzzle. Some pieces fit immediately. Others sat quietly in the corner of my mind for decades before they made sense.

People often ask whether I believe this or that.

The honest answer is... it depends on what I have learned so far.

If new information challenges what I believe, I owe it to myself to examine it. Sometimes my opinions grow stronger. Sometimes they change completely. I don't see changing my mind as weakness. I see it as evidence that I am still learning.

I was diagnosed with dyslexia later in life, but knowing the name of it didn't change who I was. I had already spent decades learning how my mind worked. The diagnosis gave me an explanation, not an identity. I don't pretend to know how every dyslexic mind works. I only know how mine processes the world.

And maybe that's enough.

I don't believe every person should think alike. In fact, I hope they never do. Every life is shaped by different teachers, different struggles, different victories, and different questions. Every mind untangles its own fishing line in its own way.

I have learned that facts deserve to be tested. Faith deserves to be respected. Curiosity deserves to be encouraged. None of those require us to stop asking questions.

One day, if I am fortunate enough to know that my life is nearing its end, I imagine I'll look back over everything I have gathered. Every lesson. Every mistake. Every relationship. Every belief I held and every belief I changed.

Then I'll make one final evaluation.

Not because I expect everyone to agree with me.

Not because I think I will have discovered every answer.

But because after a lifetime of searching, I owe it to myself to honestly say, "This is where my journey has led me."

Others may reach different conclusions.

That is their journey.

This is mine.

Until that day comes, I will keep asking questions, keep listening, keep observing, and keep untangling the line.

Because the search itself may be one of life's greatest purposes.

Facing IT! – Tangled Fishing Line

By Bert Russell
Date: 6-28-2026

For years, I thought I was a slow learner.

Then one day, I realized I wasn't learning slowly.

I was learning differently.

My mind has always been like a tangled ball of fishing line.

I can't pull one answer straight out.

I have to loosen one knot.

Then another.

A conversation with a barber connects to something a truck driver once told me.

A farmer answers a business question.

A cup of coffee reminds me of a lesson from years ago.

Little by little, the line begins to untangle.

People sometimes wonder why I enjoy talking to strangers.

The answer is simple.

Every person knows something I don't.

And every conversation has the potential to untangle one more knot.

Maybe that's why I keep asking questions.

Not because I don't know enough.

Because I'm still learning how all the pieces fit together.

Education is the key. Teaching is the degree. ✌

Facing IT! – The Gravity of Responsibility

by Bert Russell

Date: 6-24-2026 @ 11:15 PM

One of the hardest truths I've had to face is that I cannot help everyone.

There are people who need the knowledge I've gained through experience. Sometimes I know exactly what to say or do that could make their journey easier. My willingness has never been the problem.

Time has.

At first, I felt guilty for saying no. It seemed selfish to protect my schedule when someone else was struggling. But then I started thinking about our solar system.

The Sun doesn't chase the planets.

It doesn't spend all of its energy warming Mercury because it's the closest, nor does it ignore Neptune because it's the farthest away. Instead, the Sun remains constant. Its gravity holds every planet in its proper place, while its light provides the warmth that makes life possible on Earth. If the Sun abandoned its balance to focus entirely on one planet, the entire solar system would become unstable.

Life works much the same way.

If I allow every request for help to pull me away from my own responsibilities, eventually I'll lose the very foundation that allows me to help anyone. My work suffers. My family receives less of me. My health declines. The goals I've been called to pursue begin drifting out of orbit.

Sometimes the most loving thing we can do is remain faithful to the responsibilities already placed in our care.

That doesn't mean we stop helping people.

It means we help in ways that don't cause everything else to drift apart.

The Sun teaches an important lesson: influence doesn't come from chasing everything around you. It comes from remaining steady enough that others can depend on your presence.

Facing it means accepting that every "yes" costs something.

And every "no" protects something.

Wisdom is learning the difference.

Not everyone is meant to become the center of your universe.

Sometimes your greatest gift is simply remaining strong enough that, when the right moment comes, your light is still there to guide someone home.

Facing IT!

The Boat Payment Nobody Talks About

by Bert Russell

Date: 6-21-2026 @ 9:41 AM

I bought my first boat right off the showroom floor.

Actually, I bought it online.

At the time, it felt like a victory.

I had found an advertisement and negotiated a discount of more than $7,500. I thought I had beaten the system. I thought I had made a smart financial decision. The boat looked beautiful. It started every time I turned the key. My family was excited. I was excited.

What I didn't understand was that purchasing the boat was the cheapest part of owning it.

Nobody talks about that.

They talk about the purchase price.

They talk about the monthly payment.

They talk about the horsepower.

They talk about the top speed.

They talk about how much fun you're going to have.

What they don't talk about are the hidden expenses quietly waiting around the corner.

The boat needed fuel.

The boat needed oil.

The boat needed insurance.

The boat needed life jackets.

The boat needed ropes.

The boat needed tubes.

The boat needed dock guards.

The boat needed batteries.

The boat needed winterization.

The boat needed maintenance.

The trailer needed maintenance.

The storage facility needed paid.

The state wanted sales tax.

The county wanted property tax.

The marina wanted fees.

The mechanic wanted fees.

Everybody wanted a little piece of the dream.

Every year the boat sat there smiling at me while quietly asking for more money.

The funny thing is that most of the expenses were not surprises. They were simply expenses I never bothered to calculate. I saw the boat. I saw the discount. I saw the fun.

I failed to see the ownership.

At the time, I owned Sting Ray Express, Inc. Like many business owners, I convinced myself that I could handle it. Business was good. Money was flowing. Things were moving in the right direction.

Then life happened.

A slow month here.

A repair there.

A customer issue.

A payroll problem.

An insurance increase.

A tax bill.

A truck breakdown.

The boat didn't create my financial problems.

But it certainly added to them.

What started as one purchase became a whirlwind of additional expenses. Every decision created another decision. Every expense created another expense.

The boat was never the problem.

The lesson was.

Ownership is different than acquisition.

Anybody can buy something.

The real question is whether they can afford to keep it.

That lesson applies to boats, houses, businesses, cars, and sometimes even relationships.

The purchase is often the easiest part.

The responsibility comes afterward.

Looking back, would I do it again?

Absolutely.

In a heartbeat.

The memories were worth it.

The laughter was worth it.

The skiing was worth it.

The tubing was worth it.

The sunsets were worth it.

The friendships were worth it.

The lessons were worth it.

What I would change is not the purchase.

I would change my understanding.

I would have looked beyond the price tag and focused on the true cost of ownership.

That boat taught me a lesson many business owners eventually learn.

The price of admission is rarely the final price.

There is always another bill waiting downstream.

The trick is not avoiding the dream.

The trick is understanding exactly what the dream costs before you climb aboard.

Facing IT!: Packing the Cooler

by Bert Russell

Date: 6-20-2026 @ 6:06 PM

One thing my father taught me was how to pack a cooler.

At first glance, it doesn't seem like much of a life lesson. You put ice in the bottom, drinks on one side, food on the other, close the lid, and go enjoy the day.

Simple.

Or so I thought.

What I learned over the years is that a cooler only works when you think ahead. If you throw everything in without a plan, the ice melts faster. The sandwiches get crushed. The drinks get warm. The things you need first end up buried at the bottom. Before long, you're digging through cold water trying to fix a problem that could have been prevented from the start.

Life works that way too.

When I was a kid, I thought most mistakes were harmless. My friends and I played with firecrackers, blew up old Matchbox cars, and tested limits simply because we were curious. The first few times nothing bad happened. The fireworks exploded where they were supposed to. The cars jumped into the air. We laughed and moved on.

Then one day I picked up a firecracker with a short wick.

Everyone told me not to light it.

I did anyway.

The explosion happened in my hand.

My fingers went numb and hurt like hell. The lesson arrived faster than I expected.

What I learned that day was the same lesson hidden inside packing a cooler.

Preparation matters.

The consequences of poor planning are often delayed just long enough to fool us into believing there are no consequences at all.

Most people do not get into trouble because they intended to make a bad decision. They get into trouble because they assume everything will work out the way it did yesterday.

The cooler gets packed carelessly.

The firecracker gets lit anyway.

The warning gets ignored.

Then reality opens the lid.

My father understood something I didn't appreciate as a child. Whether he was teaching me to drive, golf, ski, work, or pack a cooler, the lesson was rarely about the task itself. The lesson was about thinking ahead. Respecting the process. Understanding that small decisions create larger outcomes.

A well-packed cooler makes for a better day.

A well-planned life does the same thing.

Facing IT! means recognizing that preparation is not fear. It is respect. Respect for the journey, respect for the risks, and respect for the fact that actions often have consequences long after the decision has been made.

The older I get, the more I realize Dad wasn't teaching me how to pack a cooler.

He was teaching me how to navigate life. ✌ 

Facing IT! – Untangling the Line

by Bert Russell

Date: 6-20-2026 @ 4:36 PM

One of the most challenging parts of writing is the energy it takes to untangle memories and lessons from my mind.

Sometimes I joke that writing makes me smoke too many cigarettes because my brain is working overtime trying to sort through decades of experiences, conversations, mistakes, victories, and lessons. The memories are all there. The challenge is finding the right line and following it back to where it began.

I am a non-linear learner.

When I become interested in a subject, I do not learn it from one direction. I try to learn everything I can about it from every angle imaginable. Sideways. Up. Down. Forward. Backward. Inside out and outside in.

I gather facts, experiences, opinions, observations, and possibilities.

Then I throw them all into the same mental tackle box.

The problem is that when I first try to apply what I have learned, it often feels like a tangled fishing line.

The information is there, but it is wrapped around itself in knots.

Fishing was like that.

Golf was like that.

Pool was like that.

Typing was like that.

Life is like that.

At first, nothing seems to make sense. Everyone else appears to understand the process while I am standing there trying to figure out why my line is wrapped around a tree branch behind me.

But I keep working at it.

Slowly, one knot comes loose.

Then another.

Then another.

Eventually, the tangled mess begins to reveal a pattern. What once seemed confusing starts to make sense. The philosophy behind the process becomes clear.

And when that happens, I feel like a master.

Not because I know everything, but because I finally understand something that once seemed impossible to understand.

I know I can be frustrating at times.

Sometimes I am trying to explain something important, and halfway through my explanation I get lost inside my own thoughts. I start following one mental path, which leads to another, which leads to another, until I suddenly forget why I started the conversation in the first place.

Yet that same process is also what helps me learn.

People often mistake a tangled line for a broken one.

The truth is that some lines simply take longer to untangle.

Peace of Mind.
Peace of Body.
Peace of Soul. ✌

— George Russell, Missouri

Education is the key. Teaching is the degree.

Peace4All: Seven Generations

by Bert Russell

Date: 6-18-2026 @2:19 AM

One of the ideas that fascinates me most about Native American culture is the belief that our decisions should consider the impact on the next seven generations.

Imagine that for a moment.

What if every law, every business decision, every argument, and every act of kindness was measured not by how it affects us today, but by how it affects people who have not even been born yet?

The modern world often moves at incredible speed. We want immediate results, instant answers, and quick rewards. Yet many Native American traditions remind us that life is not simply about today. We are part of something much larger than ourselves.

The forests we enjoy were planted by people we never met.

The roads we travel were built by people who are gone.

The freedoms we enjoy were protected by generations who sacrificed before us.

In many ways, we are living on the gifts of those who came before us.

The question then becomes: What gifts are we leaving behind?

Are we planting seeds or merely consuming the harvest?

Are we building bridges or creating divisions?

Are we leaving future generations with more opportunities, more knowledge, and more peace than we inherited?

Perhaps true wisdom is understanding that we are not owners of this world. We are caretakers for a brief period of time.

One day, the next generation will inherit the choices we make today.

My hope is that they inherit a little more kindness, a little more understanding, and a little more peace.

Peace begins when we stop asking, "What is best for me?" and start asking, "What is best for those who come after me?"

Peace of mind. Peace of body. Peace of soul. ✌

Education is the key. Teaching is the degree.

Facing It!

Date: Tuesday, June 16, 2026 at 10:40 PM

Low and Slow

I have spent a lot of my life trying to figure out what was wrong with me.

That is not an easy sentence to write.

But it is the truth.

For years, I watched other people learn things that seemed impossible for me to grasp.

Reading.

Spelling.

Communication.

The simple things that most people take for granted.

I spent decades believing I was missing something.

A piece.

A gear.

A screw.

Something that everyone else seemed to have.

At times, I became angry.

At times, I became frustrated.

At times, I became hopeless.

The hardest part wasn't failing.

The hardest part was not knowing why.

Recently, I found myself thinking about smoking meat at the lake.

When you first put a brisket in the smoker, it doesn't look much different than when it came out of the package.

Hours go by.

Nothing seems to happen.

You check the temperature.

You check the smoke.

You wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

Then something strange happens.

The meat hits what pitmasters call "the stall."

The temperature stops rising.

For hours it feels like no progress is being made.

Many people quit right there.

They get impatient.

They crank up the heat.

They try to force the process.

The experienced pitmaster knows better.

The stall isn't failure.

The stall is part of the transformation.

That hit me harder than I expected.

For most of my life, I thought I was stalled.

I thought I wasn't learning.

I thought I wasn't growing.

I thought I wasn't keeping up.

What I couldn't see was that something was happening beneath the surface.

Every struggle.

Every frustration.

Every mistake.

Every failure.

Every embarrassing moment reading aloud in class.

Every time I felt different.

Every time I wondered why I couldn't learn like everyone else.

It was all part of the process.

Low and slow.

Not wasted.

Not meaningless.

Not failure.

Preparation.

At forty-nine years old, I finally received the correct diagnosis.

For the first time, I understood why my journey had looked different from everyone else's.

The strange thing is that I don't feel angry.

I don't blame my teachers.

I don't blame the specialists.

I don't blame anyone.

They were doing the best they could with what they knew.

And I was doing the best I could with what I knew.

Facing it means accepting the truth.

The truth is that I spent years trying to cook at someone else's temperature.

Trying to learn someone else's way.

Trying to become someone I was never meant to be.

Today I understand something different.

I am a spatial thinker.

A non-linear learner.

I see the world differently.

And that difference is not a weakness.

It is a strength.

The stall wasn't the end of the story.

The stall was where the flavor was being built.

The smoke was doing its work.

The transformation was taking place.

I just couldn't see it yet.

Now I can.

And now I have a responsibility.

To share what I have learned.

To help others who may be standing in their own stall.

Wondering if anything is happening.

Wondering if they matter.

Wondering if they will ever understand.

Keep going.

Trust the process.

The smoke is still working.

Education is the key.

Teaching is the degree.

Peace. ✌️

Facing It!

I Wasn't a Victim

Date: Tuesday, June 15, 2026 @ 10:38 PM

Lately I have found myself thinking about opportunities.

The ones I took.

The ones I missed.

And the ones I wasted.

That last category is the hardest to face.

It is easy to blame circumstances.

It is easy to blame other people.

It is easy to say I didn't get enough opportunities.

Sometimes that is true.

But not always.

As I look back on my younger years, I can see moments where I had potential.

I was small, but I was tough.

I played strong safety.

I wasn't the starter.

I didn't get as many chances as some of the other players.

But when I got on the field, I made things happen.

I had sacks.

I had interceptions.

I knew my assignments.

I knew my job.

Part of me still wonders how much better I could have been if I had received more opportunities.

But if I am being completely honest, that isn't the whole story.

The truth is, I wasn't always focused on becoming better.

I spent time smoking cigarettes.

I spent time trying to fit in.

I spent time making choices that pulled me away from my goals instead of toward them.

Back then I thought I was being cool.

Back then I thought I was doing what everyone else was doing.

Back then I thought there would always be more time.

That is the part I have to face.

I wasn't a victim.

I made choices.

Some were good.

Some were not.

The older I get, the more I realize that growth begins when we stop rewriting history to make ourselves look better.

Growth begins when we tell the truth.

The truth is that I had opportunities.

The truth is that I missed some.

The truth is that I wasted some.

The truth is that I learned from all of them.

Today I can look back with regret.

Or I can look back with gratitude.

I choose gratitude.

Those mistakes taught me lessons that success never could.

They helped shape the person I became.

They taught me that potential means very little without discipline.

That talent means very little without effort.

And that opportunities often disappear while we're busy looking somewhere else.

Facing it isn't about beating yourself up.

It's about telling yourself the truth.

Then using that truth to become better tomorrow.

Education is the key.

Teaching is the degree.

Peace.

If you want more of Bert Russell's philosophies or Daily Entries - Check out www.lakelife4u.com (Written Waves) or www.peacefouru.org or www.H2Olifestyles.com (Gravitational Pull)

www.4youtwo.com (Coming Soon!) The Ripple Effect - The newest edition to Bert Russell method of Spatial Understandings, nonlinear thinking, learning, and teachings to himself. ✌