9 Months Ago, I Couldn't Walk

9 months ago I couldn’t walk.  My ankle was shattered and I was awaiting the first of my two surgeries to put it back together. 

Today, I ran up three flights of stairs to get from the basement to my office. 

9 months ago, I was married, but in a relationship that was destructive, unhealthy and in which neither party was very happy.

Today, I am divorced, but I’m seeing a woman who has restored my faith that people are as kind, loving and understanding as I know they can be. 

 9 months ago, my family was a group of people I loved very much, and saw as often as possible. 

Today, my family is still my family.  But I realize now, that without their love and support, I might not be here.  (Literally, in one sense, as my parents and youngest sister were the ones that found me in the back yard when I broke my ankle.)  On another level they have been the backbone of support during my physical and emotional recovery. 

It’s no secret that over the past 9 months I’ve been hurt, angry and frustrated over what has happened.  No one looks forward to a major injury or a divorce or any type of traumatic event – yet we all suffer.   Like most who known deep pain it’s easy to get sucked into focusing on the dark side of events.  [Change, fear, betrayal, misfortune, misery, self-pity, self-loathing, guilt, shame, just to name a few.]

In addition to those feelings of pain and suffering, I have also known tremendous gratitude and humility as I’ve been able to rely on my parents, brothers, sisters (including sisters-in-laws), as well as busloads of extended family, adopted family, and friends both old and new. 

In a recent blog post on The Art of Manliness, Brett and Kate McKay speak of the importance of a family culture.  I couldn’t agree more.  My parents built our family into a team, a unit, a group that – even though we don’t all agree with each other all the time – have each other’s back without fail.  The McKay’s identified three pillars of creating a family culture: 1.) Values, 2.) Norms, and 3.) Rituals / Traditions.  I can see each of these elements in my own family growing up.  It is those value, norms, and traditions that have helped me through the most difficult times over the past year. 

General George Patton said that, “No man is unafraid in battle, but discipline produces in him a form of vicarious courage.” 

Life has felt like a battlefield over the past 9 months (longer if I’m totally honest with myself) and it has been the discipline I learned in my parents’ household, which has allowed me to stand resolute and continue on.  At my core, I know who and what I am, which itself is a direct product of how I grew up.  Even when we are shaken to that core by forces beyond our control, the core does not crack.

9 months ago, life seemed pretty up in the air and terrifying.

Today, life still seems up in the air, but I am grounded and encouraged every day by the fundamentals that remain true:  People are genuinely good.   With the support of family and friends you can survive anything.  Whatever doesn't kill you, has to make you stronger (if it didn't make you stronger you'd be dead).  

It may sound morbid, to end on this note, but I hope you can see that there is hope here.  A hope that has been somewhat absent for quite a while, but has finally found it's way home.

This post is dedicated to my parents, brothers and sisters.  I really couldn't have made it this far without you.  Thanks. 

There and Back Again, and Again, and Again

I choose to embrace my geek side.   If that bothers you, it’s probably best to stop reading now.  It’s only going to get worse.

To date, I have read The Hobbit in excess of twenty-five times.  Each read brings out something different for me.  At first, it was just a great story with heroic characters.  Then in middle school, I saw myself as Bilbo Baggins – a pudgy, timid, character who had more to offer than anyone expected – including himself.   Through that lens the book became a tale of hope.  Each subsequent reading uncovered some new insight, pearl of wisdom or subtle humor that further endeared me to the story. 

Rereading the book in anticipation of the film release I discovered sympathy for the character of Thorin Oakenshield.  A leader vested with the responsibility of leading his people, yet a character in pain after suffering a great loss.  At his core, Thorin is driven by a desire for justice and a good heart.  His focus to look out for his company, his team, was so great that it almost led to their collective demise.  Tunnel vision that becomes attachment, which then crosses into obsession is not all that uncommon in how we operate in the professional setting.  Tolkien calls it the dragon sickness, now we mostly call it drive or ambition.  When infected by this sickness achieving the objective or completing the mission becomes our focus – at any cost.  Results matter more than methods. 

We are called to do more, to be more.  Completing checklists and accomplishing goals possess no more inherently “bad” qualities than does being rich or successful. It is in the pursuit of these objectives and conditions surrounding them, which brings the moral imperative into question. 

Author and Aikido Master, Terry Dobson addressed the roots of this problem in his book Aikido in Everyday Life. 

“There’s nothing wrong with winning, provided that what you are winning is a contest.  The problem…is that, over the years, we’ve let the win/lose frame of reference shift into areas of our lives that are not contests.   [We’ve] bought into an imaginary, arbitrary system where everything’s a contest and there are no ties—just sudden-death play-offs and a long walk to the showers.” 

Within the metaphor of The Hobbit, Thorin too was blinded by the prize.  His focus, his greed, ruined relationships and ultimately cost him his life – though not without an 11^th hour conversion.  Whether intentional or not, the story of the Dwarf-Kings mania speaks loudly as a cautionary tale. 

In our own professional lives it’s easy to let one more project, one more sale, one more case closed, one more patient served drag us deeper down the rabbit hole.  Not that any of these things are bad, but when their pursuit chokes out others aspects of our character, ethic and humanity then we really have a problem.  

Blue Monday: The Soundtrack of Our Lives

One of the unexpected developments during my two tours in Charleston was a new found love of live music – especially the Blues.   From 2003-2005 I lived in a city with nightlife for the first time in my life.  This was also my first real exposure to live music at every turn.  Charleston is a great city for performers and artists.  Great music is tucked into the nooks and crannies that pepper King, Queen, Market, and High Street.   Cover bands, jazz, rock, reggae, country, and the Blues provided an eclectic soundtrack for my two years in Chuck-town. 

My favorite club, however, was Mama’s Blues Palace on John Street.  The house band Mama & the Misfits was the lovechild of a pair of retired schoolteachers.  Mama and Papa Dupree, their son Jo-Jo, and a group of some of the most talented artists I’ve ever heard blew the roof off that club every weekend.  My friends and I made it a point to check out the show at Mama’s as often as we could. 

It was in that dingy little blues bar on John Street, where we met Del Rae, a jazz singer, piano player, and composer.   Del, who famously hated Stevie Wonder for beating her out for ‘song of the year’ at some point in the late 70’s, was standing the warm up act.  Well into her 80’s by the time we met her, she warmed up the house for an hour every Thursday thru Saturday. 

After her set she’d visit with us early birds and let us buy her a drink.  She was a great old lady.  She was one classy lady (unless you got her talking about Stevie Wonder).  Over the course of our visits, Del taught us that music had to come from the soul, and as long as you had music you could live a long and happy life. 

Mama’s Blues Palace closed in 2004, while I was home for a visit so I missed the last show.  The Misfits broke up, and Mama only rarely played during the last year of my assignment in Charleston.  I am happy to report though, that Mama, Papa Dupree and Jojo are back performing in the clubs of South Carolina under the new name of Mama & The Redemption Band. 

There is an impermanence of life that forces us or allows us to change, adapt and evolve – that’s true in the Blues as well.  No one sings about being blue, always being blue, and staying blue forever.  The Blues are about transitions.  Times were good, now they’re not.  Times are bad, but tomorrow will be better.  I’m suffering, but I have my guitar so it could be worse.   That’s why we come back to the blues, because we are always in transition.   Riding the wild rollercoaster of life, and jamming the entire way.  

Mama and The Redemption Band (formerly Mama & The Misfits)




***NOTE:  I have not had much luck finding any of Del Rae's music (at least not the Del we met).  If anyone is able to point me in the right direction to songs either written or recorded by Del, I would be most grateful.  We have her picture and an autograph -- but I'd like to hear her sing again.  Thanks, NTS.