Eric "Brickwall" Decker

There’s a time to put the pedal down.

And a time to ease off.

A time to fire up.

And a time to cool out.

A time to sprint.

A time to walk.

A time to lift heavy.

A time to lighten the load.

A time to lock in.

A time to let loose.

A time to stand out.

A time to blend in.

A time to spend.

A time to save.

A time to push.

A time to pause.

Most people only know one gear.

We learn all of them.

Because the real skill—the one that actually shapes your life—is knowing when each moment calls for which version of you.

Discernment is strength.

Learn the difference.

Live the difference.

It’s just a table and some chairs.

Wood. Metal. Screws. Maybe a few dents and scratches.

But the kitchen table is sacred ground.

It’s the gathering place.

The feeding place.

The teaching place.

It’s where food is shared and wisdom is passed down.

Where homework gets done and hard conversations get had.

Where laughter lives and lessons land.

It’s where you learn to listen.

Where you learn to understand.

Where you learn to guide instead of control.

The kitchen table is the heart of a home—a quiet stage where life happens in ordinary moments that turn out to be anything but ordinary.

One day, you’ll sit at that table and look back at it all: the good, the bad, the chaotic, the beautiful.

You’ll see the growth.

You’ll see the work.

You’ll see the man you became. And the people you helped shape.

Don’t take it for granted. Treat it like the sacred space it is.

Because a kitchen table doesn’t just hold plates.

It holds your story.

It holds your family’s story.

It holds the next generation’s story.

And you get to write it—one meal, one talk, one moment at a time.

No one’s going to show up and tell you it’s go time.

No one’s going to step out of the shadows and declare you ready.

No one’s coming to bark at you to take action.

Wait for that…and you’ll be waiting forever.

Get out there.

Start before you’re qualified.

Move before you’re confident.

Build before you’re ready.

The only permission you need is your own.

You’ve been holding the key to your own cage this whole time.

We hear a lot about balance.

But when the rubber meets the road…is balance even real?

In theory, sure.

In practice, not so much.

Life is messy.

Life is demanding.

Life throws curveballs you didn’t order.

Some areas will need more of you.

Others will have to wait their turn.

That’s not failure—that’s physics.

Don’t chase perfect balance.

Rotate.

Adjust.

Adapt.

Shift weight where it’s needed.

No guilt. No drama. No self-punishment.

Nature has seasons.

Growth does too.

Don’t break yourself trying to juggle everything.

The beckoning is strong.

It always is.

Easy money.

Quick pleasure.

Fast escape.

They sparkle.

They whisper.

They pull.

But the shine is a trap.

The whisper is a lie.

The pull leads nowhere.

The beckoning wants you drifting.

Wandering.

Off-mission.

Don’t chase flashes.

Build foundations.

Don’t drift.

Decide.

Don’t fall for the call.

Follow the mission.

The beckoning will keep calling.

Let it.

You’ve got work to do.

You can’t do everything at once.

At least, you can’t do everything well at once.

Some things need to simmer in the background while you give full attention to the pan that’s about to boil over.

That’s the backburner.

Putting something on the backburner isn’t quitting.

It’s not neglect.

It’s stewardship.

It’s knowing when to push forward and when to hold the line.

It’s understanding that you’re human, not a machine with infinite bandwidth.

Sometimes fitness goes on the backburner.

Sometimes business does.

Sometimes social life.

Sometimes romantic relationships.

Not forever—just for now.

Most people try to keep everything on high heat.

That’s how you burn the meal.

That’s how you burn yourself.

Don’t do that.

Rotate.

Prioritize.

Know what needs high heat now, and what can simmer for a bit.

This isn’t weakness—it’s wisdom.

Don’t be afraid to use the backburner.

Just make sure you come back to it when the moment’s right.

Everyone celebrates the first rep.

The start.

The spark.

The moment of motivation.

But the first rep is easy.

It’s fueled by excitement, novelty, and maybe a little caffeine.

The 2,630th rep?

(Just a random number—to make a point.)

That’s where identity shows up.

That’s what decides who you really are.

Whether this is a one-off burst…or a long-term pattern.

Whether you’re the person who tries something…or the person who becomes something.

Progress doesn’t come from one good rep.

No, it comes from coming back tomorrow.

And the day after that.

And the day after that.

Ad infinitum.

Reps stack.

Quietly.

Steadily.

Inevitably.

The first rep is fun.

High reps are defining.

Can you keep going when no one’s clapping, when the music fades, when it’s just you and the work?

Your time, money, attention, and energy are resources.

And you don’t have an unlimited supply.

You need to strategically deploy each.

That means discernment.

What’s worth it? What’s not?

Everything doesn’t get all of you.

Only the Important things.

That’s the difference between the scattered and the focused—between motion and progress.

Don’t leak energy chasing every opportunity.

Conserve it.

Channel it.

Direct it like a laser, not a floodlight.

Because those who deploy with purpose don’t just work harder—they hit harder.

We’re trained by technology to expect instant response.

Click → result.

Tap → delivered.

Search → answer.

Short latency everywhere.

So we start expecting that same latency in everything else.

But biological progress has lag.

Emotional progress has lag.

Skill-building has lag.

The results load slowly.

And the danger is in that delay.

Because during the quiet, you’ll wonder if the effort is doing anything.

That’s where most people quit.

Not because it’s hard—but because it’s quiet.

Tech makes outcomes feel instant.

But the body and the real world still run on delayed feedback loops.

If you can learn to love the lag—to work faithfully before proof appears—you gain an unfair advantage.

Most people need reinforcement to continue.

We continue until reinforcement arrives.

Your progress is loading.

Let it.

We love to say it:

“I’ve got some free time.”

But time is never free.

Every second is a withdrawal from the only account you can’t refill.

Your life.

You don’t spend time.

You trade pieces of yourself for whatever you do.

Scrolling? That’s a trade.

Complaining? That’s a trade.

Building? Also a trade.

There is no neutral.

You’re always paying.

So the question isn’t “Do I have free time?”

The question is:

“Is what I’m giving my life to worth the cost?”

You don’t “make time” for what matters.

You choose it.

You prioritize it.

You sacrifice for it.

Your time is your signature.

Your time is your legacy.

Your time is your proof you were here.

So treat it like it is:

Rare.

Precious.

Final.

No “free time.”

Only time.

Make it count.