By Joe Byerly
Wake up
Slog down a cup of coffee
Brush teeth and shave
Granola bar
Grab my bag
Flip the office light on
Emails
Physical training
Shower
Meetings
Training
More meetings
Last minute emergencies
Emergencies that shouldn’t be last minute
Grab my bag
Get home
Eat dinner
Kids’ bath and bed
Bed time
Repeat
For most of my military career, my life was a series of events—one after another, after another. The rhythm moved at the cadence of a late-night rave.
My friend Juliet Funt talks about this in terms of color. She looks at her calendar and sees blocks of color: meetings, events, and tasks. But what she pays most attention to is the white space –the space that isn’t covered with a blue meeting, green event, or red task. Her number one rule? Don’t let the colors touch. Leave room to breathe. Make sure you can see the white.
Looking back, my schedule, my life, was a patchwork quilt of colors with barely a thread of white. And it wasn’t just my days that were packed. The colors bled into the weeks, the months, the years. One job started before the last one ended. Or, at least that is the way it seemed.
No space to think.
No room to reflect.
No margin for surprise or any other life event that carried an emotional toll.
Just movement. Just color upon color.
I used to be proud of living life with my foot on the gas. But like trying to take in the scenery at 90 miles per hour, everything became a blur.
What I know now—but didn’t know back then—is that life’s experiences aren’t meant to be lived that way. Juliet was right: you can’t live with the colors touching. It’s impossible to pay attention, to learn from mistakes and failures, let alone to enjoy any of it.
We often criticize the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan by saying we didn’t fight a 20-year war—we fought a one-year war, twenty times. Constant rotations of units and leaders meant we rarely had the continuity to learn and adapt. The only thing we got good at was rediscovering the same lessons.
Many aspects of my life were like that too. I carried the same faults into the next year and expected different results. And unsurprisingly, I kept ending up in the same place.
Eventually, I figured out how to slow things down—how to make space, white space. While my daily schedule was often dictated by external demands, I could still claim the early morning minutes for myself. In just twenty minutes a day, I could journal, read a few pages, and take advantage of the quiet—the white space.
I learned to reflect on the experiences of the day before, turning them into lessons. I learned to spot holes in my swing and turn them into focus areas. I learned how to take stock of life.
But I had to be deliberate. I had to protect the white space.
So one more time, because it’s worth repeating:
Don’t let the colors touch.
Joe Byerly is a retired U.S. Army Lieutenant Colonel with 20 years of service, including tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, and command of a cavalry squadron in Europe. He earned numerous prestigious awards, including multiple Legion of Merits, Bronze Stars, the Purple Heart, and General Douglas MacArthur Leadership Award. In 2013, Joe founded From the Green Notebook.
A passionate advocate for self-knowledge through reading and reflection, he authored The Leader’s 90-Day Notebook and co-authored My Green Notebook: “Know Thyself” Before Changing Jobs, a resource for leaders seeking greater self-awareness. If this post resonated with you or sparked any questions, feel free to reach out to him at Joe@fromthegreennotebook.com.
