By: Forrest R. Church, Publisher
THE VILLAGE REPORTER
Some of my favorite childhood memories revolve around when my parents took the family camping at Pokagon State Park in Angola, Indiana.
I can remember little things that were points of great excitement, like waiting for hours to go to the camp store to get a popsicle to cool off. I can remember taking a dip in the lake at sunset.
I can still remember a kid my age, though I have no clue what his name was, that I hung out with for days from Minnesota, and we briefly were pen pals before losing touch.
Those were simpler times for me. No newspaper deadlines. No triple-digit work weeks when we have a staffing crisis.
No worries about postal increases on mailing our newspaper (six in two years) or massive print increases due to out-of-control inflation, which often costs us more than the $2 we charge.
No trying to figure out how to attend church with the family on Sunday morning when our press deadline is Sunday night, and there is not a free moment.
No worries about politics and what knucklehead on either side of the aisle wants to destroy what we have built at the business for a few decades plus.
No worries about trying to complete this weekly column that I enjoy writing but seldom have the time.
It was just simpler for me then. What kind of memories do you have like this as a child?
Every time I drive by the north side of the Angola area, these memories from 30-40 years ago come flooding back. A few I will not share here, which are funny for internal family reflection only.
BURNOUT
It has been no secret to those around me that I’ve been close to burnout. It’s not a good place to be, and it’s not easy to dig out of. For those of faith, you know a lot of success is handing things over to the one who is far more capable than we are in our own human abilities.
But it is hard to hear from that direction when you answer a voicemail and five more come in. When you respond to emails at 2 a.m. and are excited that your inbox is under 100 messages when you go to bed, only to come back the next morning with hundreds more.
It’s hard to hear a quiet voice or even your own thoughts when it is chaos 24/7. And that’s not all business, raising a family as many of you know involves a lot of chaos.
I believe burnout is a factor of several life elements, mainly mental, physical and yes, even spiritual. One of the keys is to get away, even in the midst of seemingly impossibility to do so. Jesus did, and I’m pretty sure that whether you place your faith in him or look at him as an important historic figure, he got away for quiet time. If he needed it – I need it, and so likely do you.
So last week, the kids had an extended weekend due to the fair. As usual, I’m not a fan of weekends, as all the newspaper deadlines are hot and heavy then.
My weekend is Tuesday/Wednesday when we can work normal shift hours. But I could tell I needed to make it happen—for the family, for me.
I had a great time with the kids: a long bike ride, letting them play on three campgrounds, having a faith talk by the fire until near midnight, and watching the raccoons, deer, turkeys, and groundhogs.
More importantly, I watched their eyes widen and noticed they were soaking in my stories of camping with their grandparents at their age. They found it interesting that I met a kid from Minnesota and was a pen pal with him.
They wanted to hear how there used to be buffalo and elk in an area of the park and how you used to be able to swim out to a large diving board on Lake James. They love hearing my kid stories. They were asking me questions about my childhood experiences days later.
I hope the experience I had with them will stick, and someday they will tell our grandkids about their time spent camping with their parents.
This effort did not come easily. I had to keep working, setting up my laptop on the picnic table. Because we were deep into Pokagon, there was barely a signal to send text messages; certainly, anything with an image wouldn’t text out.
So, you can imagine what the Wi-Fi was like to edit and design pages and to keep up on email while working remotely.
One of our sports photos is often 50+ megs and my internet connection said it would take four hours for one photo (we take several hundred typically for every game (x) endless coverage items).
Everything took much much longer. I lost a lot of sleep that I would have had at home. A few trips were taken into town to obtain strong internet to download what I needed. I even conducted a few remote HR interviews during the “time away” which was challenging. But I was at peace, maybe for the first time this year.
The kids had to go back to school, but I had the campsite for a few more days. I was able to recharge more on my own despite business tasks taking longer.
I put on light praise and worship. I had some quiet time with the Almighty. I had time to gather my thoughts. Nature did its thing. Fresh air made me physically feel better than sitting in the office.
And, amazingly, though everything took longer due to limited technology, I was able to pull off recharging my batteries while keeping up with Newspaper Publisher activities.
I’m thankful for these moments and for recharging the batteries. Maybe somebody else needs to think about finding time to recharge in their life? Likely your version will not be like mine but understand the importance.
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That is it for this week. I’d love to hear from you. As always, feel free to reach out to me at publisher@thevillagereporter.com or via mail at 115 Broad Street, Montpelier, Ohio 43543.
