Category Archives: Reflections

“It’s Only A Game”

“It’s only a game,” my wife said, walking away from me during one of my diatribes on the irritation of rival fans. The morning after a huge victory for one of my beloved teams, a victory over 20 years in the making, my feathers were a bit ruffled by some of the nonsense I read online. I really should know better, fans are called fans for a reason; they are die-hard enthusiasts of a partisan nature.

In reality, my wife is right. It is only a game. A sporting game is just a game of rules, strategy, athletes and fans. It’s almost always not life and death, and though sides and colors are drawn, at the end of the day we all go home to our families and our lives…and life goes on. It’s only a game.

That is the reality. But the reality sometimes forgets about the magic. The reality sometimes forgets about the mojo and the excitement. And in reality, life is really all about the magic.

Yes, sports have elements of hard work, dedication, and sportsmanship; all positive qualities applicable to good life lessons. But for me, and as I suspect for many others, sports are a marker in time. I have a collection of magical moments that link me to people and places in time. Yes, the memory involves a big win or a heart breaking loss. But with all of those memories, I remember who I was with, and how people were feeling; makers in time.

As my Michigan Wolverines sit one game away from a shocking National Championship, it reminds me of a key marker in my life; the last time Michigan won the basketball title in 1989. My step-dad and I watched the double overtime victory against Seton Hall, cheering Rumeal Robinson as he sank two free throws to seal the championship. I remember the game, both like it was yesterday and a lifetime ago. At the moment Michigan won, I leaped from the corner of the arm of the couch, meeting my step-dad on the floor of our living room. We rolled around in amazed excitement. It was and remains a highlight of my life. Yes, because my team won. But more than anything, because of celebrating it with someone I love.

Magical.

Marker in time.

The 2006 Detroit Tigers pennant win in Comerica Park is much the same a marker in time. It was the first time my wife attended a Detroit Tigers baseball game; not a bad first experience. Sam and I were in the upper deck along the first base side. My step-dad and uncle were in the upper deck just behind home plate. And my brother-in-law sat with a friend in right field. I remember the moment Magglio Ordonez blasted his 3-run homer in the bottom of the 9th like it was yesterday. Within an instance I leaped to the back of my seat and along with 45,000 of my favorite Detroit friends, celebrated in the unbelievable excitement. I remember games in relation to the timing of that game. I remember moments in my life, in relation to that 2006 magical moment.

Marker in time.

So, as real as it may be that it’s “only a game,” the reality doesn’t quite equate to the divinity of time and the magic of people. In an age of ever expanding cruelty in rivalries, I hope as we all cheer for our own teams and tease rivals about their teams, we do so in a way that honors the magic. After all, life is meant to be enjoyed not endured.

Go BLUE!

Back to Blogging: New Paths, Sad Tragedy, and a Reason for the Season

The other day someone in my family asked why my “website” (meaning my blog) hasn’t been updated in a while. Translated, that question means that I haven’t posted any new writing lately. I would say I haven’t written “anything” lately, but that is untrue. Ever since I started back in school in September, I have done a great deal of writing; in fact, usually three essays a week. As well as the essays might have been written, I doubt my examination of child development and abnormal psychology would have garnered a ton of blog readers. Although, my readership on here is typically only 10 people, so maybe my numbers wouldn’t have been down so much, after all. ;)

I am officially on hiatus; that’s what it’s called, right? My first semester classes have completed and I’m in a holding pattern until my next classes begin in early January. So, it’s time to blog again.
I thought long and hard about this blog topic. It’s the holiday season, should I focus on the reason for the season, or the various beliefs that all really boil down to being a good person and treating others with kindness? After a horrific national tragedy last week, should I focus on the causes, the reasons, the ramifications, or the reminders? Or, being back in school yet again, should I focus on redefining dreams, and the notion that it’s never too late to reach a goal?

How about each of them….

It is never too late to reach a goal. My college life has been a merry-go-round of schools and programs, much like the carousel of Detroit Lions coaches. I completed high school in good academic standing and then finished my Associate’s Degree rapidly and as a Magna Cum Laude graduate, while also working and playing sports in college. It certainly felt and seemed as if I was on a particular scholastic path. But, life happens sometimes. And the happenings took me from UCSB to Ventura College, to Northwestern College, to GVSU, and finally to Baker College. My degree programs ranged from Film Studies, Environmental Studies, Political Studies, Liberal Studies, Health Care Administrative Studies, and finally…just simply “General Studies”. My attempt to find “my right path,” created a jigsaw in the corn maze, finally displaying as an exit at “just get the degree” land.

I will finally get the degree, but in the midst of my wading around and flapping relentlessly towards meaning, I’ve landed where I obviously was meant to land, and never knew it. In finishing up this General Studies degree, I selected the concentration of Psychology. And in doing so, something finally clicked. And the classes clicked. And miraculously, I have that new direction that I sought out after over 20 years ago. It took me awhile, but the first in a series of goals will be met. And when it is, it’ll be time to tackle the next goal. Who knows if I’ll complete my Psychology Master’s in 3 years, or 10 years, and if I’ll actually pursue a career, finally, on a path that matters to me. But, what matters most of all, is that I’m working towards it. I hope I always continue to work towards something….

And while I am waxing poet about school, it’s important to bring up the sobering school tragedy last week in Newtown. I could approach this topic from one extreme or another; arm everyone with a gun, or take all guns away. But, I’m a middle of the ground person and I approach most things from a balanced center, so neither of those approaches makes much sense to me. The violence in this country though, is in part a gun problem. It’s also partially a mental health issue, as well as potentially a child development issue. What it feels most like to me, however, is a “lack of concern for community” issue. It feels, more and more, that we have lost a sense of family and lost a sense of community in the good ole USA. Violence has always been a part of humanity; of this I’m aware. It’s a sad part of the history of mankind, for which I’ll never quite comprehend. So, it’s a bit naive to think that only recently has violence popped up. And it’s true that mental issues have also been a part of humanity, even if undiagnosed and untreated. It’s also true that throughout history, people have created and utilized weapons, whether for self-defense or for offensive acts.

But, if we are all honest with ourselves, we would all most likely admit that it seems like “something is off” in our country. The hatred seems electrified; politically and socially. It “feels” like our obsession with “team rivalry” has grown over into every-day life; often in unbelievably bizarre and aggressive ways. It feels like we have lost our way. Who are we, as a society? Who are we as individuals, who are also part of a larger community?
There seems to be a constant debate over the notion of either being a society of individuals or a society of community, and again it seems like an argument of extremes. Isn’t it possible we are both? Isn’t it possible that we are all individuals, with individuals’ rights and pursuits and challenges….but individuals that are part of a greater commonality? One of the tenants to religion is that people are a small part of something bigger. It’s one of the few aspects of religions that actually ring true to me. Is America willing to remember that beyond just being individuals we are also a larger community? Are we a country where citizens care as much for others as they do themselves? Or heck, even care slightly for others as they do themselves? Whether we are a nation of Christians, or a nation of religious potpourri, it seems to me there is nothing holy about a country compromised of self-focused individuals; religious or not.

And with that, we approach the holiday season. Some call it “the holidays” in attempts not to offend, while others are righteously offended by the lack of specific terminology. I find it all to be a bit much for my liking, especially given the real offensive behaviors. By that I mean, what is the reason for the season? The reason is likely different for many people. Obviously, most of the holidays this time of year are heaped in religious and cultural traditions. But, at what point did the season become an endless cycle of material gluttony? Since when did the birth of Jesus, a being that sacrificed himself and focused exclusively on the well-being of others (and not material goods) become a celebration of endless credit cards and greedy children? Last night I saw a commercial where children were reciting all of their “want list items” for Christmas. Just the idea of a “want list” baffles my mind. Sure, in life we all want things, but is it a true reflection of Christmas to be exchanging “want lists?” I can’t quite put it into words, but there is something really off about this.

So, instead of people being mad that a friend on Facebook posts Merry Christmas 10 times, or another friend continues with the phase “Happy Holidays,” maybe it’s more important to hone in on the reason for the season. It is different for different religions and various cultures; but the reasons mostly boil down to sacrifice, reflection, community, family, and love. Nowhere in that list does the season include nit picking on holiday terminology, or making sure to cross off your daughter’s entire 22 item gift list. What you do and what you call it is simply your business….and it’s not really for me to judge. What I will say, however, is that my reason for the season is simply put; the people I love, and that reminder that life is beautiful in all its simplistic glory.

Summer Happened So Fast…

Summer; it’s the time of year songs are written for, and the season when free time turns into play time. Free time turns into play time; that almost sounds like a Pure Michigan tagline.

It must be said that summer is the time of year most people relish. It’s the season of long days, and super fun activities. It feels like the recess period to our normally academic lives.

Most people love summer. And while I love wonderful outdoor weather, baseball, fresh produce, and time on the lakes, I differ with most people in the all-consuming summer worship.

On the positive side, summer reminds me of childhood. It actually rejuvenates the child within me, when I take the time to enjoy its nutrients. But, as it reminds me of childhood, that reminder also confirms that I am no longer a child. In fact, my years removed from childhood somehow increase year from year ;)

It’s a season of extremes, and I’m a girl of balance. It’s a reminder to take in the sunshine in life, all while the calm in me seeks a bit more of the darkness. The days are long and the nights are short; more time to play, but less time to rest. And with time and age, that rest is golden.

As we speedboat ever close to Labor Day weekend, the weekend that signals, essentially, the end of summer, I look back on yet another high flying, barely sleeping summer of fun-loving.

Our summer kicked off Memorial Day weekend in Traverse City. We spent 5 days with my folks, and my brother and his wife, mixing in a larger family party and meeting up with various friends. It’s hard to have a bad time in Traverse City, even when the storms dominated our days. In all actuality, the storms made for an awesome setting, and I loved rocking on the porch, chatting with family, as the rain poured down and thunder rattled the house. Pretty cool setting. That was also the weekend we moved from sleeping spot to sleeping spot, as the thrift store air mattress deflated upon laying on it. Luckily my folks have a nice RV, and that ended up being parked in the driveway for most of our visit. We had a ton of laughs that weekend, and that is what stands out the most.

We werealso blessed to have a caravan of Sam’s family make the long trek up from northern Florida. We had a house full, and at times, an absurdity of driving and hashing out plan logistics, but it was a great week. Having so many family members in our house really touched my wife’s heart, as it did mine. We probably drank way too much, and slept way too little, but again…it’s the laughs and adventures that stand out the most, and we will all remember them for years to come.

Our summer was filled to the brim with Detroit Tigers games (a wonderful Suite-Up invitation), a once in a lifetime opportunity to be on the grass for batting practice at Comerica Park, numerous walks around the lake with my wife and dogs, a concert with my sister and niece, a trip to the zoo with my dear friend and her kids, boating with my brother and his wife, a great picnic reunion with one side of my family (more drinking and laughter), farmer’s markets, water slides, kayaking, and wonderful evening strolls in various downtown venues. Our short little season included more events and moments than I recall, or possibly include in this short blog.

Ours was a summer of visits; whether friends or family. In parts, the visits were exhausting, but more parts were memorable. After all it’s not the sleep we remember years later, it’s the people and the time spent together.

And even though I’m anxious for the arrival of my favorite season, fall, I keep in mind…

Summer lovin, had me a blast, summer lovin, happened so fast…

Fear and Happiness

It’s an odd social commentary when something “clicks” while watching an old episode of Rescue Me. But, there I was, last evening, watching a Season 4 episode of the show I just discovered a couple months back. In the episode, Tommy’s father is dispensing some wisdom and tells his son “facing your fears is an important part of life.”

Now, this sentiment isn’t ground breaking information. I have heard many variations on this theme more too often. But, for whatever reason, hearing it last night made me exhale.

You see, I have a dentist appointment this Thursday. And I have had a few appointments of similar ilk in the last few months, and they haven’t gone so well. Early on in my life, I had very little hesitation with the dentist, but as some negative experiences built up in the last few years, so has my anxiety deepened. The anxiety is to the point of tears when trying to get myself to walk into the dental office. It’s something that causes me great shame, to say the least. Regardless of the irrational nature of it all, obviously I have developed a fear.

And though I have told myself one variation or another on the facing fears scenario, as have my partner, family and coworkers, something clicked when it I heard it last night.

What I realized about my anxiety and related fear is that it’s taking away from my happiness. When I have a dental appointment looming in the distance, I fret about it; I actually lose sleep at times. Even during pleasant evening or weekend activities out and about, my mind will wander to the inevitability of my upcoming dental appointment; and my happiness in the moment is zapped.

Analyzing and scratching my head over it all made me realize, that at least for me, fear is the enemy to happiness. Or at the very least the act of not facing fears is the enemy to happiness.

In sharing any thoughts I always put a disclaimer out there; obviously some fear is natural, and some fear warranted. Sometimes, fear warns us of legitimate danger.

But, very often, we fear things that most likely will do us no danger; things that often never even occur. And the focus on and desire to avoid fearful things clouds otherwise sunny moments.

To be honest, I’m embarrassed at the fear I have allowed to fill parts of my life. As a child, I was pretty fearless. As a young adult, still was pretty fearless. As time and scary experiences have affected me, the fears have mounted.

I still think of myself as a person not overly affected by fears; but the truth is, I’m not actually that afraid of many things. I’m not one to fear death, so that helps out in the large catastrophe type fears.

I don’t think I’ll ever be completely done with fear in this lifetime, nor should I be. But, I must remind myself to face appropriate fears whenever possible. Doing so not only helps me get over the fears, it keeps my happiness in the forefront. And in the end, life is about being happy. It’s certainly not about being afraid, or hiding from fear.

Don’t Go Judging Lady Gaga

The problem with quick judgment is Lady Gaga. I say that because, back a couple of years ago when Lady Gaga first burst onto the scene in tar, feathers, and metal spikes, I jumped to judgment. And when she arrived at the Grammy’s in an egg, making a typical artistic statement of overwhelming proportions, I jumped to judgment. “She is a whack job. What a crazy attention seeker.” On and on I felt and went.

Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s really not my style to dress, or enjoy dress, the way Lady Gaga defines it. But nonetheless, my quick judgment almost led me astray, missing out on some kick-ass tunes. Sure, Lady Gaga still very well might be a whack job and attention seeker, but she’s also a pretty interesting and electrifying singer. And in the end, even if I listened and decided she wasn’t my speed, it’s important to at least listen before judging.

In the end, Lady Gaga is a singer, an entertainer. And as a singer, she’s pretty darn good. I find most of her music to be, at the bare minimum, rather enjoyable listening material. It’s probably matters very little what outlandish wrapping she presents herself in, or which shades of velvet she paints on her face.

I realize that it’s a pretty big leap from Lady Gaga to other people or subjects I encounter. But just the same, quick knee reaction judgment is still quick knee reaction judgment.

Judgment; it’s big with “us.” It’s a societal norm, and I’m fairly certain we weren’t born THAT way.

Don’t get me wrong, we need some judgment. We judge behaviors, actions, and results on a daily basis. And we should. Breaking into my neighbors’ house and stealing his belongings is a wrong behavior. And I’m making a judgment call in defining it as such. As a society and as human beings, we develop and share and live together with “accepted” judgment. I don’t think civilization will ever really exist without it. Nor should it, really…

It’s a balancing act.

I challenge myself daily to explore my judgments and assess if they are based on appropriate expectations. And it’s also important to distinguish judgment from preference. I may prefer a singer like Lady Gaga to Jay-Z, and that doesn’t necessarily define me as being “judgmental” against Jay-Z. I simply prefer Lady Gaga.

Where does that balance belong?

Where is the acceptable line of judgment? Where does preference blur into judgment?

As a gay person in a society that is still unraveling its homophobic tendencies, I’m all too familiar with judgment; and quick judgment at that. Some people have predetermined that who I am, and who I marry, is sinful or less than. They place judgment on an aspect of my life, and thus think of or treat me differently, or separately. The truth is, however, with many people I have met over the years who may not have liked or understood my sexuality initially, once they looked beyond their knee jerk judgment and based their assessment of me on the core of my being, their judgment often faded away.

It seems the idea of judgment is very complex. It’s certainly not a black and white subject with an easy and clear answer. But it does seem, more than not, that judgment is fear based. Even if we judge something as bad, and it “truly” is such, our judgment even if rightfully so, stems from fear.

And sometimes fear is good; fear can warn us of danger. But, it’s doubtful that Lady Gaga is really all that dangerous, nor is a loud mouth fan of another sports team, nor is the relationship between me and my wife.

So, where I actually embrace appropriate judgment required in daily living, I encourage myself to look closely at the things I judge and make sure my judgment is warranted. In the end, I might be more saddened by the things I miss in life, than the things I avoid. That approach may not be living on the “Edge of Glory”, but it is an approach that may broaden my world with some very fun tunes.

An Open Letter to America, from this Gay Lady

Interesting timing, as I finished this letter before President Barack Obama made his historic declaration regarding same-sex marriage.  Now, a declaration of support is a long way from enacting laws that provide rights, but just the same, it’s a huge step.  The first, hopefully, of many.  On to my letter…

This is not a break up letter, or a Dear John letter.  You don’t leave the things you love that easily.  But, when someone or something you love mistreats you, you stand up against it.  You make your voice heard.  You demand better.

You don’t leave.  Lovers, fighters, Americans don’t divorce things that easily.  You stay, you fight, and you make it work.  It’s the American way. Isn’t it?

I’ve heard throughout the years, after numerous discriminating votes, abusive phrases like “if you don’t like it, leave it,” and “America has spoken.”  In honest and real terms, those phrases mean “suck up the mistreatment, and accept the crumbs you receive.”

Is that what America really is?  Is America really about sucking up “less than” treatment?  The America I read about in history books and watched on film is a place envisioned to be a safe haven for the “others”.  America is a place that a majority would never override the rights of the minority.  That is America’s safe haven ideal.  That’s what we should be.

But that’s not what we really have become.  It’s not what we have been, throughout many grand failures.  The horrendous missteps over generations, from racial discrimination to female discrimination; America’s track record isn’t as enlightened as we would like to think.

But the ideal, at the core of our beliefs, is that America is a place of inclusion rather than exclusion.  For a place to really be inclusive it should be such to a diverse range of people, not just a select comfortable few; otherwise the inclusive verbiage just doesn’t fit the behavior.

I’m an American.  I’m a woman.  And I’m gay.  I’m a gay American.  I’m not sure if I call myself proud to be gay, as it’s just something I happen to be.  I’m proud that I’m open and honest about being gay, that is for sure.  And I’m happy to be gay.  Being gay has led me to my wife.  And it’s led me to being a more compassionate person who appreciates inclusion from others.  I don’t overlook the important role that inclusion has in my life; and the role it plays in most lives.    And I use it when I cultivate friendships with people of varying backgrounds and beliefs.  Because of inclusive behavior, my life is richer in its totality.

I’m a good person.  I care about people. And I not only care about others, I do things to make sure others know that I care about them.  And that’s rare these days.  These days, people spend more time trying to convey a message about themselves, rather than convey a concerning message towards someone else.  It’s an epidemic.  And unlike love between committed adults, any committed adults, the epidemic of “lacking concern for others” is a moral issue.  Instead of isolating select love as a “moral crisis,” perhaps America can isolate the lack of love for others as the bigger concern.

But, I digress…

Back to you, America….

I’ve been with you since the day I was born; 1974, Southfield, Michigan.  And let’s be clear from the start, I appreciate the relationship we have had for all of those nearly 38 years.  I realize that as an American my life has come with advantages that others around the world could really only dream of having.  I’ve been raised in a country that for most of my years has been a beacon to the rest of the world; and you can’t really underestimate how satisfying it feels to be admired for positive traits.  America is a bit boastful, and has often had reasons to boast; charitable citizens, helpful to others around the world, wealth that has led to greater standards of life, and a true melting pot of religious, ethnic, and cultural ingredients.  America the beautiful!

My Mom once told me that she thought I was one of the most patriotic people she knew.  I’m not sure how she came to that determination, but I took it as a compliment, and still take it as such today.  I am patriotic.  I love my country.  I love it in a way that you love a parent, or a child.  We are tied, eternally, to our families.  We see flaws in our families, and bicker with our families.  We also strive for “better” with various family members.  Family is one of the greatest rewards in life, and its relationships are also some of the toughest roads to travel.  Family; it’s like love of country.  It’s at the core of our beings and very central in our lives.

I love America.

I’m a gay American.

And I’m not leaving.

I’m standing here and demanding what I deserve; equal and fair treatment.  I know, without hesitation, that history will stand on the side of fairness and equality.

Decades ago, people fought about racial injustice.  Decades ago, people fought about inter-religious marriage, and inter-racial marriage.  Most of these injustices were based on fear, coupled with selective and hypocritical religious judgment.  Such judgment completely misses the boat on the separation of church and state; a corner stone to American society.  But the judgment goes further than that.  The judgment challenges the core of the American ideal; inclusion.  The judgment allows a powerful majority to disperse unfair treatment to a powerless minority.

The judgment is not a gay issue, it’s an American issue.  Americans should be livid.  Americans should be appalled.  All Americans, gay or not, should demand better.

For the life of me, I’ll never understand the fear and/or hatred towards gay people.  But, the truth is, I don’t really need to understand it.  People are allowed their own feelings and beliefs.   What I don’t understand is how our country continues to do this dance with inequality, one minority group at a time.  This argument, honestly, seems so “last century.”  In a world of wars, of disease, of poverty, and hunger, are we really fighting about two adults committing to love one another?  Are we really fighting about gay marriage?  Seriously, America, come on….

I could share cliché thought after cliché thought, like:  “if my gay marriage negatively affects your marriage than it says something about the quality of your marriage.”  But, I won’t go there.  That’s obvious.  I could ask discriminating heterosexuals to tell me, exactly, why their relationship is superior to mine, but I won’t go there, either.  That is nonsense.  It’s crazy talk.  We are having a nonsensical crazy family argument at the Thanksgiving Day table; this is that drunk holiday conversation that will only go in circles.  It’s pure lunacy!  And it’s time those on the side of equality starting calling it such; lunacy!

I’m blessed to have many heterosexual friends and family in my life that “get it.”  At times I have thanked some of them for their inclusive nature and unbridled support.  And often the response I have received has been “of course. “  And, “don’t thank me for being or doing or saying what is right.”  It’s funny, as a minority, I am ultra “appreciative” of the people in my life that actually do what I would expect them to do; what I would do for them.  But, the demand for equality takes more than gay people.  That’s what I recognize and that is why I’m ultra-appreciative.  It takes everyone.  Gays can’t do it alone.

Back in the early days of the civil rights movement, it took more than African Americans to demand equality.  It took many Americans to do what is expected of all Americans; stand for justice and stand for equality.

I use to say that we need to “fight” for equality.  But that sounds combative and that sounds like one side wins and the other side loses.  There should be no sides here.  I prefer to demand equality.  Like any relationship in my life, my relationship with my country has its challenges.  But, I won’t hide from those challenges and I won’t divorce myself from this lifelong relationship.  I’m demanding the treatment I deserve and I won’t stop demanding it until it’s received.  And even then, like a nagging wife, I’ll continue to demand the treatment I know…I KNOW…I deserve!  That everyone deserves….

With eternal love and hopefulness…

 

Constant Craving, for “Stuff”…

I have to admit, and I do so without any shame; I love food.  I love to cook it, bake it, you name it.  I also love to eat it.  If a Genie came to my house and offered me 3 wishes one would inevitably be “calories will no longer make you fat.”  That wish would obviously come after ending world hunger, solving all of the hatred in the world, and a Lions Super Bowl championship.  Oh wait, that’s 4 wishes.  I digress…

I love food.  I crave food.  And I’m sure I’m not alone.

And though too much food, or bad food, can lead to a great deal of unhealthiness, we need food.

What I often liken in our society to food is “stuff.”  By stuff I mean material goods.  I mean all that “stuff” that we forward past seeing during 2 minute television interruptions.

The Fitbit I have clipped to my waistband.

The iPhone 4S sitting next to me.

The many laptops spread around the house, the toys in the garage, and the boxes of old CDs, or videos in closets and nooks where we shove them.

Stuff.

It’s our national pastime, and our extra chewy dark fudge brownie with 3 scoops that we will never cut out of our unhealthy living and spending diet.

Stuff.

Material goods and food: fraternal twins in our social experiment in craving.

In Buddhism, one is taught that when you crave now, you suffer later.  In my favorite book that I reference quite frequently (It’s Easier Than You Think), the author believes that in fact when you crave now you suffer NOW.

There is essentially nothing wrong with “stuff.”  We need some things, and we enjoy other things.  “Stuff” has the ability to enhance our lives, or make our lives run a bit smoother.  All praise helpful or happy stuff.

The struggle, however, comes from that bottomless pit of craving that can never be filled.  I believe “stuff” has a very long term contract in place with that bottomless never satisfied pit.  Don’t you think?

With food, people typically have a taste for something, and then the craving passes.  Sometimes one eats the item of their craving to quench their desire, and sometimes the desire just passes with time.  Food is also typically a response of having an appetite, and hopefully appetites can be satisfied. Our hunger comes and goes, as we are never permanently full.  The same also seems true of our hunger for things.

One day our material desire might be the new video system everyone is talking about.  We think about it for weeks, we browse prices and sales for days, and sometimes we even wait in ridiculous lines to make a purchase.  We finally quench the thirst when we purchase the object of our desire.  We take it home and play with it.  We show it to visitors that come to the house.  We have fun with it and everything feels right with the world.  Then, we lose our interest.  The desire for “stuff”, although temporarily quenched by the new game, really only lay in hiding until Apple releases its latest iPhone update, or Macy’s announces an earth shattering sale on Gucci bags.

It’s a desire that is rarely satisfied for long, and a desire that although recognizable to most, is hard to combat in a world built upon desire.  Our society has built a foundation predicated on people always wanting “things.”

It’s all very confusing, as many people go to church or read books on fulfillment, enlightenment and the “truth” of happiness coming from within and not on external rewards.  Then we leave church or put down the book and are bombarded with television ads, twitter feeds, billboards, and the quest for the “American Dream,” which translates into bigger and better “stuff.”  How does it all add up?

I’d say my favorite quote, “the race is long and in the end it’s only with yourself,” but the truth is that where “things” are concerned there is no race.  There is just a bottomless pit of unending desire.

I think the key with “stuff,” as it truly is with food, is moderation.  Learning to approach material goods with the mindset of a healthy and wise eater is trans-formative.  It’s about understanding and acceptance. It’s not about filling a void, or putting a Band-Aid on boredom.  After all, today’s stuff is just tomorrow’s garage sale stuff.  “Oh,” I yawn…boring!

How I Met…Myself, Episode 1

Just recently I jumped on the “How I Met Your Mother” train.  Up until about a month ago, I never watched the show.  Thanks to Netflix streaming and the new Roku in my work-out room, I’m catching up on a rather fun loving and sweet show.  The show is certainly not earth shattering, but it’s slightly humorous and light hearted fun.

It makes no sense that a father would be spending hours and hours, and days upon days telling his children 100’s of stories on how he met their mother, but belief suspended, I love the idea of passing on stories or life’s antidotes to those who come after us.

We don’t have children yet, and I’m not sure if we ever will.  Our doggies are children to me, but it’s sort of challenging to impart too much so called “wisdom” on them.  For the sake of this blog, I’ll go with the notion that I am or will be a Mom.

And in the role of Mom, I dispense my own “How I met…Myself” moments of insight…

EPISODE 1

It was many years ago and I was helping my brother-in-law coach my two nieces’ soccer team.  The girls were in Elementary school at the time, so I use the word “coach” very loosely.  We ran some drills, and we showed up on game days to urge the girls to action.  One would have thought I was on the sideline of World Cup Soccer games due to the quickness of my pace up and down the sideline and the excitement in my voice as I blurted out instructions that typically went in and immediately out of little ears.

They were short seasons, and short games.  But, the experience was a reminder of many things to me, and I have to be honest in saying, I miss it a bit.

My brother-in-law and I would blurt out instructions and advice on a continuous basis, all while parents on the opposite side of the field did more of the same.  I’m sure on the field, to the kids, it all sounded like irrelevant gibberish.  Half the time, it was a battle just making sure kids were standing up on the grass and not sitting down playing with it.  So, the adults were obviously taking the game much more serious than the second graders.

Regardless of the minimal importance of it all on a competitive setting, I did enjoy the encouraging nature of coaching.  There was one moment in those couple of years of coaching that sticks out to me most.  Well, there are many moments, but one that still warms the cockles of my sometimes cynical heart.

PUT ME IN COACH

There was a young girl on the team that was certainly one of the better athletes.  In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear she’s playing in high school now.  She was one of the few that really grasped the concept of the game, and she had the talent to match her interest.  Usually we barked out guidance to the kids only to receive blank stares in return.  On this day, our young star actually heard my guidance on the sideline, and went back into the field taking the approach I suggested.  Not only did she listen to me, and hear me…she actually went back into the game and took action.  She didn’t seem fazed by the positive results of listening to my direction, but I nearly passed out on the sideline as I watched.  My shock was less at the results, but more so in the fact that she took my lead.  And the bigger payout was how good it felt to see her do so well.  She ended up making a great play and charging down the field.  To be honest, I don’t even remember if she scored or not, I was just so thrilled to watch her doing so well.  It was a huge reminder to me then, and even know, that even when you least expect it, something can warm your heart.  I’m being honest in saying that watching her do so well, and knowing I had a hand in making it possible, actually felt better than if I had even done it myself.  It may not have been a Bo or Izzo moment, but it sure makes me smile even years later.

SHE WHO SEES HAIRY ARMS

On that same soccer team there was also a young girl that provided another reminder.  She was much less an athlete than our star pupil, above.  This girl was a bit awkward and out of shape and for whatever reason mostly enjoyed following me around and asking inane questions.  Although sometimes tiring and often frustrating, she wasn’t a bad kid; mainly a handful.  She questioned everything, and at its core, I don’t have a huge issue with that; she was obviously interested.  But, what she also questioned, were the things I’m sure most of us have experienced a time or two; she seemed to ask embarrassing question after embarrassing question about me.

I have a dark complexion and am a dark haired young woman. Yes, I still say, “young woman.”  Having that type of complexion also means, at least for me, that my body is certainly not hair free.  I have, relatively, hairy arms (at least for a female).  This was a cross to bear as a child, but nothing that brings me any anxiety as a grown up.  There is something about kids, though; they see all of these social imperfections like candy in the desert.

This rather out of shape and inquisitive little one spotted my arms, and spotted my hair.  And I’m sure she worried that I was unaware of the situation.  Without a single look of worry to insult, she came right up to me asking “why do you have so much hair on your arms?”  And, as luck would have it, she didn’t take me to the sideline and whisper it into my ear, but rather asked it loudly in the middle of the field while I explained a soccer drill to a group of players.  I really don’t’ remember how I responded, or how the other kids responded, but to this day I remember her asking me that silly but honest question.  I chuckled a bit about it that day, as I drove home, and I actually chuckle now.  It’s a reminder to me that filters are a good thing.  And though I sometimes look back on childhood with nostalgia for the magic time of wonder, I’m rather glad that years have brought me filters.  Of course, the filters break from time to time, namely during sports events, but I own them, nonetheless.

Filters are good, and some humility and forgiveness for those that lack filters, is even better.

Internal Success; The Path Less taken

Success doesn’t equal success.  Success doesn’t guarantee success.

Huh?

Outward success has nothing to do with internal success.  And, ultimately internal success is what leads to happiness, contentment, fulfillment; the things that make life valuable to most of us.

We see examples of this theory often in celebrities.  A performer like Kelly Clarkson has talked often and openly about her struggles with relationships, fame, and loneliness.  She has chosen to live in her home state, Texas, away from the limelight of stardom in Hollywood.  She is famous and successful in a career she dreamed of and loves.  She is respected as being a talented singer.  She certainly has wealth.  She has what most people seek; a successful career in a field she loves, respected by others, and earning money to buy herself most things she would want. She probably also meets people all over the world; talented and connected people.  How does her overwhelming external success not automatically equate to internal success?

Whitney Houston was a tragic example of the same scenario; unworldly talented, known and respected through-out the world, successful in her craft, and exceedingly rich.  She was exceptionally beautiful, as well.  Most of her adult life included a struggle with addiction, but one could certainly argue that she struggled with feelings of inadequacy, doubt, and sadness.  Whitney House: Inadequate, doubtful and sad?  The external success didn’t automatically equate to internal success.

There are people in my family, or friends I have known for years; some of them have achieved success in their career, often a “dream” career doing something they love.  Just the same, they struggle with all of the things I struggle with.  They struggle with the things I hear so many other people struggling with.  They even dislike or have frustrations with their job, even when in a dream or desired chosen career.

I think it’s a great lie of our time this thing called “success.”  It comes and it goes; just like happiness.  Like I have heard celebrities refer to fame, success also seems like an illusion.  Success is somehow determined by select criteria that “somehow” evolved in our society.  Many people believe it comes wrapped inside the big and beautiful home, or new cars, or prestigious job titles, or the prestigious career path.  We all assume it comes with wealth, and often with fame.

Part of the dilemma is this obsession with following ones “dreams.”  And I don’t say that to be a negative Nancy.  There is nothing wrong with dreams; in fact, I’m sure they are at the heart of most wonderful things in our world.  We all have dreams and we all need dreams.  Some come true and many do not.  But, this new age drive to always chase ones dream at any cost seems to be more pressure we put on ourselves and each other.  But, the problem I see is not inherently in the “dream,” or drive towards ones dreams.  A dream, at its core, is a healthy and positive pursuit.  The illusion lies in the belief that chasing or achieving ones dreams equals success, which then equals happiness, contentment and fulfillment.  Along with that illusion, is the fallacy of respected dreams which should line up with outward societal success in select careers, or in acquiring a set amount of material wealth.  Does our society value or applaud the pursuit of dreams even when they don’t equate to the normal parameters of external success?  I wonder….

When I was young and just out of high school my dream was to move to California.  And I did it, I moved to Santa Barbara and later Ventura, CA.  I loved the experience and still have a lot of sentiment in my heart for that beautiful state; however, the issues that plagued me moved right along with me.  I had some very fun, exciting and happy times, but I also had a great deal of heartbreak.  I guess those things often come with dreams.  And though my time in California may have not garnered external success; I didn’t have a high paying job, or live in a kick-ass California home, the experiences of growth that I recognize years later show me the real value in the years I spent there.  Where living in California once was a dream, it ended up really being more about my own personal healing and growth.  For those things, I’d gladly sacrifice my previous illusions of grandeur.

Happiness can come along with living ones dream, or even achieving ones dream.  But, like happiness and success, dreams also come and go.  And so the illusion continues further, as the dream is a moving carrot.  We see a lot phrases and books encouraging folks to “live your dream.” And all of that is great in theory, but it’s not always attainable for many, and beyond that, many live their dream or get their dream and find out they are just as lonely and filled with holes as before, and sometimes even more so…

I know my thoughts are a bit counter to the self-help generation that spends more time memorizing the tools to “The Secret”, then actually defining their internal success.  I see aspects of this self-help craze parallel the diet craze; everyone wants a magic pill, or the fast bullet.  With health and weight, there is no secret formula; eating healthy, in moderation, and exercising is the secret.  And happiness and fulfillment are no different; there isn’t a secret path which only one book will dispel.

I certainly don’t have any concrete answers to what brings internal success to each person; it’s safe to say we are all unique souls bouncing about.  But, from where I sit, it seems apparent that the outward trimmings of success don’t do the trick for most people.   One can certainly be an outward “success” as our society defines it, as well as a happy person with great internal success.  It’s just most likely that the outward success didn’t create the internal success.

A life filled with external success which is mostly self-gratifying, which doesn’t help others, usually doesn’t provide contentment and fulfillment to the person that has the success.  A lot of “successful” people who also achieve fulfillment and contentment along with it, are people that manage to find ways to do things for others; they become successful and use their platform to help other people.

It seems apparent, but also important, to admit that real contentment, or real success, comes from an internal place.   The internal place hopefully is one of peace, self-confidence, gratitude, and compassion.  For me, internal success is defined by the joy in my life and the joy I bring to others.  Although I can’t control the happiness of others, nor please everyone all the time, part of my journey must include people outside me.

So, instead of asking you what you “do” (for a living), or what you drive, I’ll ask you something more important.  I ask you this, what is your path to internal success?

SURVIVING VALENTINE’S DAY

Valentine’s Day is one of those “holidays” that asks people to draw a line in the sand.  We saw it on Facebook.  We saw it on Twitter.  We often see it when we shop through stores, listen to the radio, or meander in our communities.  Are you all about Cupid, or are you moving the Grinch into February discussion?

There seems to be little middle of the road dwelling for Valentine’s Day.

Facebook contained many postings of gooey sweet romantic gifts, fun romantic activities, and similar pictures of flowers and candy.  Facebook also contained status updates of irritation or skepticism over a holiday seemingly developed by a card maker or an industry propagating the need to spend unnecessary money to prove devotion to ones mate.

VALENTINE’S DAY MEANS IT ALL

From where I see it, all of the above is true.  Valentine’s Day is in part a fabricated day that has been blow into excessive proportions.  Valentine’s Day celebrates a loving spirit that really should be demonstrated every day of every year.  Valentine’s Day tends to sometimes put undue pressure on people to make adequate gestures to their love.  There is much to be irritated about.  There is reason for skepticism.

On the flip side, I can’t help but smile a bit for a day that celebrates love.  I can’t help but smile at a day that is about flowers, and candy, and hearts…and romance.  And Valentine’s Day isn’t really just about romance; I have received Valentine’s Day cards from my folks since I was a kid.  Valentine’s Day is about the special peeps in our lives that add to the texture of our hearts.

Valentine’s Day isn’t a day that we shouldn’t celebrate.  It’s a day we should multiply and celebrate even more.  But really, it’s less about how much I spend on my wife, or if I get a card in the mail for each of my parental units, or close loving family members.  For me, it’s about remembering, embracing and appreciating the love in my life.

Appreciation goes a long way….

EXPRESS YOURSELF

Valentine’s Day is just another opportunity to express love and appreciation.  Instead of growing up past the small index sized cards that we gave out on Valentine’s Day in Elementary school, perhaps we should think more about giving out those sentiments routinely.

TO EACH OF YOU, I SAY

You’re Special

You Rock

Be Mine

Tweet Me

Sweet Love

Cutie Pie

Call Me

Dream

Be Good

So Fine

Awesome

Smile

HEY HEY VALENTINE’S DAY

More than anything, there is always room in my heart for special friends and family member Valentines.  Though my wife is my # 1 Valentine, there is always room for others.  So, I leave you , the day after Valentine’s Day, asking this…

Won’t you be another one of my precious Valentines?