Jeffrey E Drivon

12 pounds! That’s how much golden goodness our 30,000 “daughters” produced this season. From just two backyard beehives, we extracted 12 pounds of honey—enough for us to enjoy while leaving plenty behind to sustain the colonies through the winter. For the first time in two years, my dad and I were able to rob the hives, and it felt incredible to suit up again and harvest honey for our own personal use.

From removing the frames to uncapping the wax to spinning them in the extractor, it turned into an all-day affair. I even treated myself to one of the last few sips of homemade mead I crafted a couple of years ago—back when our harvest barely filled a couple of gallons.

This year’s honey tastes amazing—sweet, floral, and uniquely local. I chewed on some fresh honeycomb too, which brought back great memories. For now, I’m letting the bees clean the leftover honey from the extracted frames and cut-off comb. Next step: learning how to melt down the wax to make homemade beeswax candles properly. As I mentioned in [yesterday’s post], I still consider myself a beginner beekeeper—but I’m eager to learn the ins and outs of this amazing craft.

New Honey Season, New School Year

On a personal note, today also marks the beginning of Year 14 of my teaching career, as in-service meetings kick off. While there’s still plenty of prep work on my mind, I feel more organized and motivated than in years past. I’m walking into this school year with a new mindset—full of joy, energy, and purpose.

I want my students to feel that I care. I want to radiate enthusiasm, show them what’s possible, and inspire them not only in academics but in life. I pray they see my love for teaching and coaching—not just as a job, but as a mission and vocation.

I want to be a light that leads others to Christ. I want to be the kind of teacher that students remember, because they felt seen, supported, and encouraged.

From backyard beekeeping to classroom teaching, I’m learning to savor the sweet moments and stay committed to growth. Whether it’s the hum of bees or the quiet of the early morning before school, I’m reminded daily: keep showing up, keep learning, keep leading.

The Journey Continues…

Yesterday was one of those unforgettable days. From 6:30 AM to 3:00 PM, I poured my heart into my responsibilities as a high school teacher and football coach. For the first time in over a decade, I felt an aggressive, renewed energy—an intense drive to not only prepare my classroom with intention, but to shape it into a space where learning life lessons becomes just as important as mastering content.

It feels like I’m finally hitting a stride I’ve long hoped for. I’m not just showing up to teach—I’m showing up to transform lives. If only my students could see what I see in them: potential waiting to be unlocked if they’re willing to take that first step and try.

This isn’t just about teaching academics or coaching plays. It’s about building something lasting. For the first time in ten years, I’m tackling every duty with precision—crossing T’s, dotting I’s, and staying ahead of the game. I’ve always had good intentions, but I’ve let time, fatigue, and life distractions wear me down. Not this year.

Today marks the beginning of my 13th year in education—and my 10th year at my current school. While students return next Thursday, I’m already deep into formation, preparing for the journey ahead. I truly love the responsibilities entrusted to me, and I’m committed to growing through continued education, reflection, and action. If there’s a next step—whether that’s school leadership, instructional coaching, or something else—I know it starts by giving everything I’ve got inside the classroom.

The journey continues—with fire, focus, and faith.

As I reflect on yesterday, I felt a deep sense of accomplishment after finalizing a detailed and strategic slideshow presentation for my upcoming accounting class. It serves as a solid action plan for the school year ahead—designed to guide and support my students as they explore the world of accounting. I truly believe that if they’re willing to learn, this structure will help them succeed.

Recently, I completed my Master’s Degree in Library and Information Science. With this milestone behind me, I can now fully devote my energy to teaching and doing my job with purpose and precision. This school year will be a challenge, as I’m blending high school-level content with college-level material. But I’m committed to giving my students the best possible educational experience. By May 2026, my goal is to see real, measurable success among them.

To do this, I know I need to be fully immersed in their learning experience—participating alongside them whenever possible. Growth as a teacher means continually stepping outside of my comfort zone. I also hope that one day, this path will lead me toward an administrative role. Every challenge I face is an opportunity to prove that I can overcome perceived weaknesses and rise to new heights.

It’s also been encouraging to earn the trust of my peers—whether it’s helping make strategic decisions, like player placements on the offensive line, or being asked to teach a course I haven’t touched in over 15 years. That level of trust fuels my confidence and strengthens my resolve to keep pushing forward.

Today brings new adventures, new lessons, and new opportunities. The journey continues—and I’m ready.

In today’s Gospel reflection, the kingdom of heaven is described as a pearl of great price. It made me stop and ask myself: Am I truly chasing that pearl? Am I even making the effort?

There are times when I feel spiritually strong—fully focused on that pearl, striving for the kingdom with clarity and purpose. But then life happens. Distractions arise, routines break, and I find myself becoming spiritually lukewarm. I begin to make excuses. “I’m too tired,” I tell myself. Or, “I’m upset—God and prayer can wait.” Sometimes I rationalize, “God knows how I feel. I’ll talk to Him tomorrow.”

But the truth is, I need daily motivation to pursue the Sacraments—those gifts from Jesus Christ that lead us closer to the kingdom. I was reminded of this again just last night during a conversation. The Sacraments are not optional side quests in the journey of faith—they are foundational tools that sustain and transform us.

If I truly value that pearl of great price, I must be willing to go deeper: to show up for faith-based events, to support my brothers in Christ who are on the same path, and to immerse myself in a church community—especially when it’s easier to put it all on the back burner.

Today, I choose to refocus with determination and clarity. I pray for the strength to stay the course and not let the subtle powers of evil, distraction, or discouragement derail me from the path. The pearl is worth it.

Yes—I lost focus. After successfully maintaining a habit for over 160 days, I slipped. I stopped with my prayer life and my daily reflections, and I failed to build upon the foundation I had started. The momentum I once had began to fade. But today, I’m starting again.

In The 5 AM Club, Robin Sharma emphasizes the importance of a daily routine built around three powerful practices: exercise, meditation (or in my case, prayer), and journaling. Maybe he was right.

This morning, as I attempted to pray and listen to biblical reflections, I noticed how easily my mind wandered. I wasn’t fully present. I realized I’m still far from where I want to be spiritually and mentally. Yet I yearn to grow—to deepen my knowledge and strengthen my faith so that I can be ready to share it when called upon.

Today, I recommitted to the 20/20/20 formula Sharma describes. I began with 20 minutes of prayer and reflection in the chapel, followed by 20 minutes of light exercise and stretching. Now, I’m finishing with this journaling session. It’s Day 1 of this renewed journey, and I already feel a sense of clarity and purpose.

There’s something energizing about starting the day this way. It’s giving me a fresh jumpstart, and I’m hopeful about how I’ll finish the day and where this will take me over the next 60 days.

If you’ve ever lost your rhythm with a habit or felt disconnected from your goals, know this: it’s okay to start again. Today is proof that the journey is still unfolding.

A wise and humble person once told me, “God will work everything out, but you have to do your part too.” I’ll forever be grateful to her for those words. It wasn’t the first time I had heard that sentiment, but hearing it in person—spoken sincerely and directly—hit me differently. It stayed with me.

Inspired by the foundational habits outlined in The 5 AM Club, I’ve decided to take the next step: journaling. Call it blogging or whatever your heart desires—it’s a practice I’m committing to. And I must remind myself: it takes an average of 66 days to form a new habit. Focus and consistency are key.

I want to bring the thoughts constantly running through my mind into the physical world. I want to stay centered and finish the important (and long-overdue) tasks without beating myself up along the way. These daily reflections aren’t just for accountability—they’re meant to motivate me to overcome struggle, push through adversity, and release fear, sadness, and the weight of so-called “defeat.”

For far too long, I’ve told myself, “Tomorrow is the day I’ll get things back on track—build a stronger prayer life, stay focused, and finally tackle what needs to be done.” But that “tomorrow” often turns into weeks, months, or even years. Maybe you’re reading this and thinking, “I’ve heard this before—another person trying to turn their life around, sharing advice, or just rambling.” Fair enough. But the truth is, we’re all wired differently. We each carry our own perspective and purpose.

Writing has always been one of my most effective forms of communication. It’s time I lean into that God-given strength. If I give myself the chance, I truly believe I can move mountains. There’s so much I want to learn and apply in this life. Yet too often, when things get tough or fatigue sets in, I pull back. Not anymore.

This space—this habit—is my tool for focus, growth, and forward movement. It’s time to take out the mental and emotional clutter and start fresh.

These reflections may take many forms: a review of something I’m trying for better health, a new hobby I’ve picked up, a Scripture reflection, or simply how I’m feeling that day. Whatever shape they take, they’ll be rooted in honesty, intention, and progress.

So today, July 1, 2025, marks a new beginning. One breath at a time. One step at a time. One day at a time. I choose to live—fully, intentionally—and not let defeat have the final say.

The journey continues…

In The 5 a.m. Club, Robin Sharma explains that forming a new habit typically takes 66 days. Inspired by this, I began my own journey, focusing on foundational habits: prayer, meditation, exercise, and reading. At first, everything moved along smoothly. But then allergies struck and threw off my exercise routine for about a week. Still, I pressed on—occasionally listening to audiobooks and podcasts, though my consistency with reading began to waver. Eventually, both exercise and reading slipped further down my priority list.

Much of this shift had to do with how I approached my morning prayer. I was using two apps that guided me through the daily Gospel reflection, three Scripture readings, and the Rosary. While spiritually enriching, the routine took around 50 minutes to complete. As a result, exercise and reading began to take a backseat.

This led me to one of the book’s key insights: focus on adopting one habit at a time. That concept truly resonated. I chose to prioritize prayer and meditation, and I’m proud to say I’ve been consistent with my prayer time—up until just yesterday. Technically, my routine was disrupted. But I still prayed with my wife and son that night, and that moment of shared prayer kept the daily practice alive. I count that as a win, even if it wasn’t at my usual time.

Now, after approximately 160 days, I can see how this journey has slowly reshaped my perspective on life. It’s made me more mindful, more grounded, and more intentional in my roles as a husband and father. Going forward, I need to develop a plan that allows me to weave prayer, exercise, and journaling into an hour—or an hour and a half—so I can better align with one of Sharma’s core ideas.

But I’ll keep reminding myself: one habit at a time. The journey continues…