My 3 Words for 2014 - A Year In Review

‎"Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that

nothing that is worth knowing can be taught," - Oscar Wilde.

2014 will soon be a memory.  As has become my custom, early in 2015 I will publish the three words that will serve as my guideposts for the year. Choosing the words for the year has taken a different form each time I’ve completed this exercise, and this year will likely see yet another refinement of the process. Though it was not a stated or even consciously recognized goal of this list, I spent a lot of time in deep reflection this year which I found quite helpful.  You introverts, might be on to something.

Lessons Learned from My 3 words for 2014

1.  Breathe – Somewhere along the way I remembered how to breathe again.  I’m not sure where or when it happened, but at some point this year the drowning sensation stopped. I spent more time in silence than ever before in my life.  In my daily life, in conversations (listening more intently) and at a dedicated 5 day silent retreat – my breathe became more natural.  I continued my practice of Aikido, an art where breath power and ki breathing are central to the practice.  My fuse, which had been so shortened, began to find length again. 

2.  Climb – Of all my words this one took the longest to realize any progress.  Perhaps more to the point, I had the greatest physical difficulty with this concept.  It’s only in the past few months that I’ve been able to acknowledge that I’ve made any movement in this area at all.  In many ways, this word is tied closely to my expression of Breathe (above).  I still get caught up in the hyper-focused tunnel vision that causes us to miss opportunities.  This year, however, I’ve been able to force myself to take time to appreciate being in the moment.  These metaphoric (and not so metaphoric) vistas have been truly amazing stops along the way and provided much needed inspiration throughout the year.

3.  Flow – Developing a mind of compassion, as our Buddhist friends would say, has been fundamental to my ability to embrace flow. Following the events of 2012 and early 2013 I was hurt, angry, and determined to never be “a sucker” again.  Likely at the time I couldn’t see that I’d become difficult to be around, grumpy, and in pain.  Not very pleasant, I’m sure. Re-learning to enter the flow life and to fully embrace compassion (toward others and myself) brought me out of a very sad, lonely, dark place.  This practice, inspired by prayer, reading, meditation, spiritual direction, Aikido and the counsel of friends and family – helped me get back on track. 

These words didn’t solve all my problems, or any of my problems for that matter, but they gave me a framework with which to process life over the past year. Whatever it is I've learned thus far, I couldn't find in a book, training video, or seminar.  It had to be lived to be learned.  That said...

It’s been a pretty good year!

Now it’s time to choose the words for what is to come.  Events are already set in motion to give flavor to what is ahead, but these three words and the associated attitude will shape the lens through which I view the world for another year.     

Next post, My 3 Words for 2015.

Post Script:  In addition to my 3 words for 2014 I had some goals for the year.

Writing: Write 52 Short Stories by Dec. 31^st 2014.  – THIS DID NOT HAPPEN.  I wrote about 10 stories this year, yet none of them are ready to submit for publication

Fitness: Return to my 2011 goal weight by Dec. 31^st 2014. – I made progress, but did not make it by December 31^st.  I am currently 10.6 lbs from the goal.

ORIGINS – Author/blogger Mitch Joel at “Six Pixels of Separation” turned me onto Chris Brogan’s practice of identifying “3 Words” for the year.  These three words then serve as motivation and guidelines for all that you do during the year.  Brogan, explains it like this, “In an effort to tell bigger stories, I've found that the concept of three words allows me to think in more dimensions about what I want to do with my life and it lets me apply lots of tangible goals instead of what most people do when they focus on just a finite task.”

See my 3 Words for 2013

Chris Brogan: http://www.chrisbrogan.com/my-3-words-for-2013/

Mitch Joel   http://www.twistimage.com/blog/archives/my-3-words-for-2013/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+TwistImage+%28Six+Pixels+of+Separation+-+Marketing+and+Communications+Insights+Blog+-+Mitch+Joel+-+Twist+Image%29

9/11 Remembered

We do not dwell, 
but we never forget. 
A moment of silence, 
a day of remembrance, 
an opportunity to thank 
those who serve, and 
a lifetime to honor those 
who gave the last full measure of devotion.

The Parting Glass:  http://youtu.be/K8dbokWHOxU

The Name Game

Life gets more complicated when the lines start to blur.  As a young people we are taught to exist within structures, at home, school, and in the neighborhood.  Rules are imposed upon kids as much to teach as to govern, yet with each year the boundaries become more nuanced and judgment calls come into play.   

One simple example is the name game. 

My freshman year of college, I remember encountering faculty who insisted that we called them by their first names.  Doctor’s and Professor’s became Maia’s and Bill’s.  This request flew in the face of my upbringing in which people (elder’s especially) were referred to by their appropriate titles (Mrs. & Mr., Aunt & Uncle, Professor & Sister, Father & Brother, etc.).   I will admit I was uncomfortable with this at first, but eventually came to accept the reality of our casual college culture (though for some reason Dr. White was always Dr. White… to everyone… even to his peers… even to people who technically outranked him, but I digress).  The use of familiar names was, in fact, one of the first and most fundamental lessons of my college career that it’s important to adapt to the culture in which you find yourself. 

Now after a decade in the workforce, I’m still often the youngest person at the table and the questions remain.  The same questions come into play outside of work as well.

• When do you drop the MR. and MRS. when addressing the parents of your oldest friends?
• How about when meeting your significant other’s parents… it’s very different if you’re 16 year’s old vs. 36 years old. 
• What about when they become “in-laws” or “Ex-In Laws”? 
• When does your parish priest become Charley, instead of Fr. Smith?  
• When does your dentist become Janice instead of Dr. Ozwald? 

Where’s the balance between showing respect (Mr. and Mrs.) and using the familiar names.  Is it enough to approach everyone as equals, or does propriety demand you wait until given specific and explicit permission to address people by a less than formal moniker. 

How do you make that judgment call? 

While I’m not advocating that we get too caught up on labels and titles there still needs to be a measure of respect.  Your culture and the culture of those you are addressing will come into play, but that is very hard to determine in an initial meeting.  And the answers to this question may lie with the culture in which we were raised.  I have very distinct memories of my Mom sharing a little Irish prayer with us in times of social distress.

“May those who love us, love us

and if they do not love us,

May God turn their hearts

And if he does not turn their hearts,

May God turn their ankles

so we may know them by their limping.”

Now, I don't suggest that we give a limp to anyone whom we feel doesn’t love us… that’s called assault children.  Rather, I encourage that we have faith that good people will take our efforts as a genuine desire to communicate and establish rapport.  We are going to make mistakes.  Err on the side of formal and you may offend someone who doesn’t feel as though they are old enough to be “Ma’am.”  Err on the side of approachable and your attempt to connect may be seen as a disregard of the hard earned title of “Doctor.”   It’s the intention that’s important, and the faith that those who love us will love us. 

Fallen Angels & Living Saints

We often hear about limitations and pain… of corruptions and the sins that drive them.  “Turn on the news and what do I see, a whole lot of people crying don’t blame me.”  Nothing sells newspapers and boosts ratings like stories about sinners and saints.  Especially when the darlings of our public persecution stumble, trip and fall flat on their face.

Celebrity addiction, Hollywood domestic disturbance, and the rattle of skeletons in famous closets are rarely in short supply.  Even when a person seems to be destined for greatness the fall can come.  Remember Lance? One day a pillar of athletic integrity and a testament to overcoming adversity, the next day a liar.  Shame. 

We encounter fallen angels in less grandiose theaters as well: in the face of the once promising professional who chose to drink away career and family; in the shattered pieces of the workaholics home where spouses and children simply co-habitat the same space forgoing any sense of unity; in the wake of those who compromise anything in order to win. 

Nothing stirs the heart of America like the story of overcoming adversity, but that same heart turns a sour shade of scornful when our heroes fall. 

And it would seem that even the angles fall… hard.

We forget that it is in the fall that we can be raised up again.

No one is perfect, and we know this because, saints walk amongst us.

In the last week, two wonderful women (Eleanor and Helen) passed from this life to the next.   These were not tired old ladies.  No, they were classy, feisty, and both flirting with their 100^th birthdays. 

Both had lived through the Second World War, raised families, suffered disappointments, faced hardships, and went out of their way to make sure that those around them felt love.   Both Eleanor and Helen held a special place in my heart and in the pantheon of my many Grandmas.  These ladies, my two biological grandmas, Helen, Eleanor, and several others, taught me how to become a person of character, by the way they lived.

They didn’t give up.

They didn’t give in.

They didn’t have time for self-pity.

They were about God’s work… looking out for people be they family of birth or marriage, adopted family (like me), or just those who may be in need (whether they know it or not).  All of them outlived their husbands, all of them buried their parents and siblings, many buried some of their own children – yet they found reasons to smile and laugh and love and live. 

None of my Grandmas were perfect, far from it.  Some of them might even go so far as to admit that they were spectacularly imperfect, and after each fall they rose to be saints once more. 

You may not know any of my grandmas, but I bet you’ve met them.  In the faces of the ladies at church, or the nurse who helps you at the ER in place of your own mother, or the kind person at the store who smiles for no reason at all – all of our grandmas are there. 

Living saints do walk amongst us, and it’s time for us to stop a while and appreciate the time we’ve had with them. 

This post is dedicated to my Grandmas:

Mary Catherine

Dolores

Lillian

Helen

Eleanor

Naomi

Rose

Marge

And to your Grandmas, whoever and wherever they be.

5 Stages of Grief, Plus 1

This post is the 2^nd installment of a three part series.  See the 1^st segment here: Dare Mighty Things.  Look for the 3^rd and final segment Standing Up and Living with the Fall Out. 

A young friend recently went through an abrupt and painful breakup.  Knowing my recent relationship history, we spent some time talking about the sense of loss and grief that comes from such a parting of ways.  There really is a kind of mourning that takes place in the wake of a damaged relationship (plutonic, romantic or otherwise). 

In some cases the people involved in the relationship change.  In others true colors come to the surface either over time or in the face of stress.  From time to time there is no single reason at all, and relationships end. 

Often times you miss the other person.  Even if you know (intellectually) that you are better off without XYZ – name the behavior, tendency, addiction, vice, stressor – in your life.  We yearn for the “old days” or the “good times,” even if those days are over or they were never that great in the first place.  We are, after all human and divorce, breakups, and failed friendships signal change, which is sad and scary.  So we grieve.

When dealing with grief many articulate the experience within the context of the Kubler-Ross Model or more commonly, the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.     

I’m no expert in psychology or human development, but I pay attention to people.  From my observation and personal experience the five stages are fairly universal for those who suffer loss.  We also know that the model is cyclical with certain phases repeating.  (I had a hard time getting sucked back to the anger stage.)  Recently, I’ve come to think that there should be a 6^th stage – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance….and singing! 

Maybe it’s my extroverted nature, tendency to perform, or just my Irish-side flaring up, but sometimes there’s nothing left to do but sing.   Sometimes the songs are sad but a funny/bawdy song can help flush stagnant emotions from the soul just as well.  It’s not about being mean, vengeful, or “getting back” at the ones who hurt us by their parting – rather singing helps us face, accept, and deal with trauma, while jumpstarting the process of letting go.  In other words, singing can help us heal. 

In that richest of traditions of troubadours and tavern singers I close with a song – dedicated to all our Ex-es.  To all those who have chosen the company of others over our specific company – let us celebrate our Jubilation Day.  We’re probably better off anyway.

Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers

“Jubilation Day” from the album Rare Bird Alert

Check out the rest of the album at http://www.steepcanyon.com

Dare Mighty Things

Disappointment and suffering are universal – yet most of us don’t handle it very well.  If we’re completely honest with our selves, it’s not hard to accept this to be true.  Most can’t count the number of times we’ve missed the mark, fallen short, failed.  

Who keeps scrapbooks of their failures?

And here’s where I spilled the coffee all over my boss 2 minutes before the Board meeting.  Oh, and this is where I dropped the baby on the concrete trying to hold her and unlock the car at the same time, while texting.  Let’s not forget the time when I was a pawl bearer and dropped Grandma…

These examples may seem extreme and goofy, but most of us keep a mental listing of times when we were not enough.  Whether missing a deadline at work, disappointing a parent, or being part of a failed relationship – at some point most people feel as though they have failed the test.  To make matters worse we insist on lugging around the emotional baggage of our failures.

Most of us don’t admit that, in fact, we’re pretty good at justifying our unhealthy attachment.  We can learn from the shortcomings in our past, but not at the expense of our futures.  In the early days of my divorce one of my buddies came to my house to see how I was doing.  I was a mess.  My marriage had failed.  I had failed.  I wasn’t dealing with it all that well.  Then my buddy shared this:

“Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure... than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.”   Theodore Roosevelt

There is great value in giving something your all, even if you fail.  You learn, you grow, you get better for the next time.  But then there’s one more step.  You have to dare enough to try again the next time.  I recently read a blog post entitled, “The Truth About Self Love.”  The author talked about forgiving ourselves when we fail, and taking the time to care for ourselves especially right after tragedy or disappointment. 

Failure is an opportunity to learn, but only if we dare to get back up and try our hand at greatness once again.  We owe it to ourselves to try.  To our past self, who suffered the brunt of the initial disappointment.  To our future self, who will likely benefit the most from trying again.  And to our present self, who draws healing from the work of rebuilding and daring mighty things once more.  

My 3 Words for 2014

“Come friends, it's not too late to seek a newer world.” ― Alfred Tennyson

At the dawn of a new year, we have the chance to seek a new world.  This opportunity is present to us each day, but the beginning of our calendar year offers special time to reflect and try again. 

Seeing with new eyes.

Several weeks ago I started actively mulling over ideas for a lengthy ‘year-in-review’ dissection of 2013.  At first it seemed like a good, responsible, author-ish attempt at accountability, but in the end it became an exercise in tedium.  You see, I had become preoccupied with the business of living.  It turns out that though 2013 presented some soul shaking challenges, it held abundant blessings as well.  My 3 words (simplify, presence, and guts) provided a language to navigate both extremes. 

There was no metric, rubric, or other quantifier to determine my progress.  I sometimes get a little caught up in the measurement and recording function of a project, so I purposely left them out.  Yet, unlike my attempts at ‘resolutions’ in the past, these three words remained with me throughout the year.  They became more of a mantra than a mission statement, and served to bring focus in times of chaos.  I call that success. 

My 3 words for 2014:

1.  Breathe – I have a tendency to stop breathing.  This first came to me in the athletic arena when several coaches, lifting partners, and trainers would yell “Breathe” as I was completing a rather difficult task.  I simply stop breathing mid-lift, or while swimming during a race/time trial, and for sure while running.   This habit has matriculated into other compartments of life and I tend to approach challenges by holding my breath, gritting my teeth, and running full tilt at the problem. 

Breath restores oxygen to the blood and helps us relax.  Taking time to breathe can have physical, mental, and emotional benefits.  In keeping some time sacred to breathe, celebrate, play, pray, write, and to recharge the likelihood of being ready to face challenges increases.  My ability to serve others will be improved as well, if I am focused and fresh.  I choose to take time to breathe more, to hold back the flood of “should’s” and “could’s” in the name of finding focus. 

2.  Climb – Climbing is a lot of work undertaken in exchange for a single moment of rest and glimpse of beauty at the top of a mountain.  At the summit, there is a sense of accomplishment and a chance for restoration and celebration.  We are always climbing, working our way up toward a goal or regaining footing after a fall in the darkness.  Facing daunting assents and mitigating sharp descents can keep us hyper-focused resulting in missed opportunities.  Along the journey unexpected treasures both internal and external add value to the climb.  We train, gather tools, and pack supplies all in order to push our limits when climbing. 

My goal in 2014 is to keep climbing.  To commit myself to getting up each day and facing the challenges and goals with a sense of adventure, knowing that there will be beautiful moments along the way. 

3.  Flow – I love the water, especially rivers, streams, and waterfalls. There is something soothing in the sound and captivating to watch the movement of water.  Bruce Lee and Hermann Hesse both use water as an image for higher states of being.  While serving in AmeriCorps*NCCC I had the opportunity to take these ideas and experience them for myself while serving in some of our nations greatest parks.  Sitting on a rock in the middle of a river, or hiking to the base of a waterfall allows a person to appreciate the power of this force of nature. 

2013 reminded me that life is impermanent, constantly growing and changing.  It is left to us to appreciate that which is in our lives and accepting that situations, both good and bad, can be important in our journey.  To me, learning to flow means exercising compassion toward others, as well as, myself.  If we hold that, “life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it,” then it is possible to become more like water adjusting to the rocks in the stream. 

Now it is time to act.

The words have been chosen, now it is time to give them body through action.   

What are the 3 words that will drive your 2014?

GOALS – In addition to my 3 words I have some goals for the year.

Writing: Write 52 Short Stories by Dec. 31^st 2014. 

Fitness: Return to my 2011 goal weight by Dec. 31^st 2014.

ORIGINS – Author/blogger Mitch Joel at “Six Pixels of Separation” turned me onto Chris Brogan’s practice of identifying “3 Words” for the year.  These three words then serve as motivation and guidelines for all that you do during the year.  Brogan, explains it like this, “In an effort to tell bigger stories, I've found that the concept of three words allows me to think in more dimensions about what I want to do with my life and it lets me apply lots of tangible goals instead of what most people do when they focus on just a finite task.” 

Grateful Acceptance: 3 Words for 2013 Check-In

Today we give thanks.  This does not mean that we are not thankful on other days of the year, but this day in our American culture we pause and reflect with a grateful heart. 

This year I am thankful for a number of things that previously I, like many, would have categorized as “little things.”  I am thankful for the ability to walk. I am thankful for warm boots in the snow, and a car that starts every morning (though I likely just jinxed myself by writing that).  I am thankful for the ability to see my book to have mobility in my fingers to be able to hold it. 

AND…

I am thankful for the kindness of strangers and for good friends who tell you want you need to hear even when it is hard.  I am thankful to be surrounded by people who love me (including my idiosyncrasies, not despite them).  There is a lot for which we can be thankful. 

This year also has taught me the important lessons of impermanence.  The Buddhist monks teach that all existence is in a state of motion or flux, and this sentiment is echoed in the Judeo-Christian experience as well in the pursuit of a union with God.

Good jobs come to an end.  Friends move across country.  Highly functioning teams break up.  The aged, the ill, and the unlucky pass away.  Children lose touch with parents.  Siblings fight.  Spouses grow apart.  People change.

There are a lot of reasons why people come and go from our lives, and more often than not those departures are painful.  Lately, I’ve tried hard to focus on the value that comes from having people in our lives, no matter for how long.  I’m calling this exercise Grateful Acceptance.  It’s about the framework, like remembering college friends I haven’t spoken with in a decade; or reflecting on kids I tutored while in AmeriCorps; or thinking about the kid who beat me up in middle school; or the guy I passed on the street…

“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring            

I remember a morning while I was in high school; my dad and I were up running errands early on a Saturday morning.  Between stops we headed into a restaurant for breakfast.  On the way in a homeless man asked if we could spare some money so he could get something to eat.  Without missing a beat my dad said, “No, but if you would like to come in and eat with us I’ll buy your breakfast.”  I’m not sure who was more surprised the stranger or me.  And that’s what we did, on a random day in 1995. 

That day had a profound impact on my life.  It opened the door for one of the most important conversations I’ve ever had with my dad.  It allowed me to see, first hand, the lesson that “we never know how much of an impact the little things we do will have on people.”  It allowed me to see love in action.  

So today, I am thankful for those who have shown great love through small acts of service.   I am grateful for all of the people who are and have been a part of my life, because every one has helped me become the man I am today. 

And for that, I am truly thankful. 

http://catholicgentleman.net

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. 

Gut Check: Writing Straight with Crooked Lines

(Note:  I’ll continue on with the Blue Monday series later, but this post seemed more timely.)

As I mentioned in my first post of 2013, words only have power if they inspire actions – and I include new ways of thinking as an action.  One of my 3 words for 2013 was guts, and it’s the word that has been most on my mind recently.  2012 presented a few more challenges than perhaps anyone had anticipated, but the darkness of struggle and suffering is the most fertile ground for seeds of hope to take root. 

Some years ago I heard a quote while on retreat that has become a mantra of sorts for me this past year.  I believe the author is Thomas Merton, and it is simply this: “God writes straight with crooked lines.”  This simple phrase has taken new meaning at various stages over the past year.  Each time it seems that I’ve arrived at a new understanding something unexpected brings me to a deeper appreciation of the sentiment. 

From my perspective, this phrase embodies the idea of guts.  Faith takes courage.  If we are to have faith in God, in life, in ourselves, and each other we must have the guts to live.  We must acknowledge that life happens, and events unfold that are out of our immediate control.  Then the idea that we cannot always see around the corners on our path (the crooked lines) becomes easier to accept.  Once we accept that there are twists and turns in our road, it becomes a little bit easier to understand that despite our fears there is forward motion. 

That’s why life is about the journey.  That’s why life is a process to be experienced.  It is through that process, as Bruce Lee explains, that we learn and grow.  “Since life is an ever-evolving process, one should flow in this process and discover how to actualize and expand oneself.”  And that’s the point - growth.

Real growth takes guts. 

Guts to take risks.

Guts to have faith.

Guts to act despite our fears.

When we have the guts to live, we become open to good things, unexpected things – and there we often find joy. 

As Lent comes to an end; as we move forward along our path; as we encounter new people and experiences – let us all recommit to having the guts to live our lives, to have faith in the goodness of one another, and appreciate the crooked lines.