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.

Standing Up and Living with Fall Out

“Have you ever felt the odds stacked up so high, you need a strength most don’t posses?”  There is a certain right of passage when an individual takes a stand for something in which they believe strongly.  Whether political, social, or personal it takes guts to stand up and say, “no more.” 

No, I won’t tolerate this proposed legislative agenda.

No, I won’t allow you to drive home drunk. 

No, the way your are treating me is unacceptable. 

The first challenge is standing up for what’s right.  To make a stand, we must be honest with ourselves.  We must overcome the powers of denial so ingrained in our subconscious and admit when actions and inactions are no longer acceptable.  This is especially challenging if it means drawing some lines in the sand for yourself, your kids, and in opposition to those we may respect and love.  The question then becomes where is that line between unpleasant and intolerable.    

“Every once in a while…every once in a while there’s a day with an absolute right and an absolute wrong, but those days almost always include body counts.  Other than that, there aren’t very many un-nuanced moments…”  President Josiah Bartlet, The West Wing 2002. 

There’s a lot of gray area when taking a principled stand so the weasels of self-doubt have ample room to play – scurrying in and out of our mind gnawing at our resolve.   The absolutes we crave, the situations we read about in fiction or pine for on the silver screen, are rare.  Bad guys don’t always wear black or have ominous theme music play when they enter a room.  Unfortunately, most of the important stands one makes in life involve opposing the people we care about, respect, and love.

'There are all kinds of courage,' said Dumbledore, smiling. 'It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr Neville Longbottom.'  Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Standing up in the face of an enemy can leave one with a sense of heroic pride, but when that opposition is one whom we value as a mentor, friend, or significant other an entirely new set of emotions take hold.  In a healthy relationship discourse can facilitate understanding and reconciliation after such confrontations.  Just as often, however, standing up risks alienation and damage to the relationship. 

If taking the stand is the first hurdle, living with it is the second.  The right path is often not the easy path, so this is where our resolve is really tested. Moving forward in the wake of serious disagreement is difficult even if all parties reconcile their differences.  When one or both parties resign themselves to dissolve the relationship or reduce the association to a less perfect union feelings of betrayal and loss abound.  All the guts in the world do not cause our losses, disappointments, and failures to go gentle into that good night.  We carry them with us, even after the initial trauma is addressed

“I follow four dictates: face it, accept it, deal with it, then let it go."
~Sheng Yen

Letting go is the hardest part for me.  Part of me wants to find ways to reconcile.  Part of me wants to “be right” and “win” – whatever the hell that means.  But the larger part gets stuck trying figuring out what I did to lose control of the situation. 

Letting go is admitting mistakes.  Letting go is living with past actions, in-action, and miscalculations.  Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting what happened, it means forgiving ourselves for not being perfect and moving on.  In letting go, we dare to step up to the line and do mighty things once more. 

This post is the 3rd installment of a three part series.  See the 1st and 2nd segments here: Dare Mighty Things and 5 Stages of Grief, Plus 1

“Have you ever felt the odds stacked up so high, you need a strength most don’t posses? … I’m not a coward, I’ve just never been tested.  I’d like to think that if I was, I would pass.”  The Impression That I Get, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones  

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.” 

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. 

Carolina On My Mind

This is not a post about James Taylor.  This is a post about Thursday.  In the AmeriCorps*NCCC world it’s Team Leader Thursday.  Normally I wouldn’t devote an entire blog post something I got from a Facebook post, but today it stuck with me.  

I had a great Team Leader (TL).  Jen Karmels built our team around the values of patience, flexibility, and a healthy sense of humor.  But it was her presence that helped us become a highly functional and cohesive unit.  When we suffered, she suffered.  When we need a friend, a mentor, a ride to the doctor or a swift kick to get us back on track, Jen was right there.  Even these many years later and miles apart Jen remains a presence in our lives. 

Author, poet and Buddhist Monk, Thich Nhat Hanh says that, “the most precious gift we can offer others is our presence.”  In this world of overburdened attention spans, jam packed schedules, and an addictive tendency to try and do everything – we loose sight of this profound truth. 

Earlier this morning I learned that my teammate Rosa’s sister passed away last weekend.  I cannot imagine the sense of loss that their family must be going through.  But I know Rosa, and her parents.  I know that in the days and weeks to come they will be reflecting on the good times they had with Ana.  In this context presence takes on an entirely new meaning and perhaps urgency. 

Presence is one of my 3 words for 2013, but being present is a practice that can be beneficial to all.  So on this Thursday, let us take a moment to be present to one another.  Hug your kids, spend time with your family, call a friend who you’ve been meaning to talk to for a while, take a risk and offer a kind word to a stranger.   But do something to reach out.  In the end, it’s those moments in which we are present for one another that stay with us.  

"Today is a gift, that's why it's called the present" Master Oogway

http://youtu.be/Znnj1oFxCR

My thoughts and prayers go out to Rosa, Ana and the entire Strandemo family.

2012 in Review: The Fate of Hope

Last New Year's Eve, I wrote a post called 2012: A Year of Hope, and as the year comes to an end it’s time to take stock of where we are.

Hope is a funny thing.  It seems to shine the brightest when we can see and feel nothing but darkness.  

This year, December 14th became a day that will stand out for many.  From some it will forever be the anniversary of great tragedy and loss.  The tremendous amount of pain and senseless suffering associated with the Sandy Brook Elementary school shooting will remain a scar on our national psyche for many years to come.  In the wake of this massacre it might be easy to believe that darkness has won. 

But just hours after the tragic events of the shootings in Newtown, Connecticut, two friends welcomed theirdaughter into the world.  Two people who are kind and generous and loving experienced, in an instant, their family, their love, their joy expand beyond comprehension. 

And so, hope enters the world.

If we widen the scope, 2012 has not been an easy year by any account.  There is plenty to be upset about.  Our hurts seem to have multiplied.  We are weary from extreme acts of senseless violence and a nasty campaign season.  We are bitter from loss at the hands of hurricane Sandy and our in ability to recover fast enough.  We are heartbroken, as good people who want to work remain unemployed or under-employed.   We are plugged in, but seem to be farther from the people in our lives.  We are surrounded by information and entertainment, and often feel isolated, alone, and bored.

And yet, we are still here. 

AmeriCorps members, National Guard, and many others are still serving in the aftermath of Sandy. Teachers, parents, administrators, and local law enforcement across the country are working like never before to keep our kids safe.  Children are being born, and growing up, and being loved by their families.  People everywhere are starting to talk about being tired of the anger and violence that seems to be everywhere.  Many of us are lucky to have family and friends close at hand, which is a bigger blessing than we regularly acknowledge.  

Despite the frustration and pain, the disappointment and loss – the great experiment continues.  

Like the phoenix hope often seems to rise out of the ashes of disappointment, sorrow and suffering.  St. Augustine believed this when he penned the lines: “Hope has two beautiful daughters. Their names are Anger and Courage; anger at the way things are, and courage to see that they do not remain the way they are.”

This year may not have turned out like any of us expected, but if we embrace anger towards that which is wrong in the world and the courage to become an agent of change, then we will get things done in 2013.  

Thus, hope lives on. 

Continuing to Learn About Service

Last week I ran across a quote from entertainer, Andy Griffith, that has stuck with me ever since first reading it.  In his characteristically straightforward style Griffith summed up a delightfully compact worldview, in a few short words: "Well, do a good day's work and act like somebody."

That's a pretty simple and yet fundamentally difficult charge, but one that many of us (AmeriCorps Alums, Pumas, and in general people of good will) can easily embrace.  Hard work, service, integrity -- it's all there.

My wife Katie, a fellow AmeriCorps Alum, honorary Puma, wild land firefighter, and all around superhero articulates the benefits of a service mentality in a blog post which first appeared on the AmeriCorps Alums Blog this morning.  Like so many Katie talks about service as journey, not a destination.  Whether formal service or local volunteerism, whether serving family, friends, strangers, pets, or the environment, service matters.

Katie sums the common thread of journey up like this, "no matter where you started out when you joined AmeriCorps, you end up in a similar mindset after serving.  Service becomes a part of your life."

Check out Katie's post and join the conversation (whether your an Alum or not)...How do you serve?

Click here to open original post

The Older I Get, the Smarter My Father Becomes

It was pretty clear that by the age of 16, I knew just about everything there was to know. My Dad, by contrast simply didn't understand the world. My music, sense of humor, taste in movies, all out of his reach. It was ok, he was old, old people just didn't get it.

By the time I was 18 I realized that there might be some things I hadn't learned or experienced yet. My Dad, by comparison had really picked up his game and became a good sounding board and source of advice. He helped me avoid a few mistakes and had some really decent ideas the paid off for me.

By the age of 22 it dawned on me that in the scale of human knowledge (which is itself only a fraction of all knowledge) I know practically nothing. Dad, by this point, had become a varitable sage, my consigliere, the man who has to this day helped me navigate some of the greatest challenges of my life.

It's funny how much our parents learn in those years when we're growing up. With all that's going on in the world, and the nosiness of our modern lives, we don't stop to acknowledge those who have been a positive influence, source of support, and genuine friends nearly as often as we should.

So for those who have been a great, positive influence in my life (there are far too many to list):

THANK YOU.

2012: A Year of Hope

In a few hours my three youngest sisters will join Katie and I for a night of games, food, and general fun as we ring in the new year. But before the festivities begin, its only appropriate to pause a moment and think about what we are celebrating.

2011 brought us:

Our 2nd Anniversary

A new sister-in-law

New job

Back to Plymouth and near family

The promise of a new Godchild in Jan/Feb

New little cousins

New MOB-nieces

New Ameri-nephew

Many good times with friends and family

And much more for which we are Thankful.

In 2012 we look forward to new opportunities and a fresh start to become what we want to be, what we are meant to be. 2012 may yet be the end of the world as we know it. It may be the beginning of a new era of community and cooperation. 2012 may yet prove to be the year when we see humanity at its very best. For myself I choose to identify this as the year of hope.

Here is to the blessings of the past year. To the lessons learned and the joys realized. We embrace 2012 with open arms and full of hope for a year of family, friends, and good beer!

Meth is a Hell of a Drug

This picture makes me laugh every time. That said I've found new meaning in the message in recent viewings. While I don't have a problem with Meth -- I do struggle with excess, as we all do. Work, achievement, food, a good book, TV, prayer without action -- all of these in excess can turn us into the proverbial "Animal." Focused on one aspect of our life/routine and neglecting the other.

The month of November and my participation in the Nanowrimo project brought into sharp contrast the fact that I've surrendered part of myself to those things which seem urgent, but are not truly important. I almost bailed on the writing project twice during the 30 days of hell which included Nanowrimo, hunting season, Thanksgiving, and several projects at work that demanded copious amounts of both my physical and mental energy. I was quick to surrender attention to my physical health, my love of writing and storytelling, and other personal pursuits in favor of "getting things done."

I am thankful that Katie was there to help me straighten out my priorities and examine what really mattered. Yes, work matters, but should it dominate my life? Yes, being responsible is important, but does that mean that we neglect taking care of ourselves physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually? Is listening to a frustrated co-worker less important than answering 5 more e-mails and accomplishing one more report for early review? Were the two extra meetings that could have waited until tomorrow worth being an hour late for dinner with family and friends? Is that networking even really more important than my little sister's Christmas play? I think it's pretty clear at this moment that "no" is the answer to all of these.

The kick of this is that in the calm and rational moments the disparity is clear to see. When immersed in the chaos of life, however, it is far more difficult to maintain or find the calm. Seeking this calm, either as a semi-perminant state or a state which can be easily recalled, remains one of my lifetime goals. I continue my struggle, but with knowledge that this too is part of the great mystery and journey of life.

What do you struggle with?

Frozen Food Tells Me She Loves Me

One of the blessings of married life (at least for me) is the frozen food. I know, it may sound odd, but frozen food is one of the little reminders I have that she loves me. Unlike the frozen food of my bachelor days (Totino’s pizza, HungryMan Dinners, etc.) the frozen food I eat now is homemade. Chicken & Vegetable Soup, African Stew, Cabbage Rolls, and Split Pea Soup now grace our table and freezer with regularity. That way, when I’m in a hurry or want a hot lunch at work I can have a healthy and home cooked meal. But it’s more than a home cooked meal.

I think that this frozen food has helped save my life. I’ve always been a big guy, but shortly after we were married I stepped on the scale and realized that something had to change. I worked long hours. I ate quickly and whatever I could grab on the fly. I was significantly over weight and with the risk of diabetes looming over nearly every American decided that there was no time like the present.

So, in January of 2010 I got serious. Katie helped me learn to eat better and start a work out regimen. Over that period of time (and with a lot of encouragement and help from Katie, the Huffs, Mark Brouwer, Dan Cook, my Parents, siblings, and others) I’ve been able to loose 95 lbs. There is still a long way to go, but frozen food and eating right was the first step. It's also become a part of my lifestyle. Katie was right there at the beginning and she is right there helping me along the way each day. That’s one of those little reminders that I have every single day, that she loves me.

At our wedding we honored the couple present who had been married the longest. Out of all the family and friends present the Hogans (lifelong friends of Katie’s) took the prize. After the dance and obligatory pictures, Mr. Hogan leaned over to me and said, “take care of each other.” It was simple, but very good advice that we’ve tried to live by every day since. I hope that I can take as good a care of her as she has of me.