"The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for."
There's just no way around it. People are imperfect. Shocker, right? As much as people can add to, and enrich our lives, in the way of love, companionship, conversation, support, the sharing of mutual interests, and dozens of other ways, they are bound to disappoint us at times. Nothing new. Yet, it seems as if we sometimes forget this very obvious and basic truth? Why? Well, while some of the specific reasons can vary case by case, and be numerous and individual, the most common one is because we allow ourselves to forget. We simply allow ourselves to forget that these very same beings, who can be such a source of pleasure for us, can also be a source of disappointment, frustration, and hurt.
And in part, it's our own perfection that allows us to forget. And this is most true when it concerns our loved ones, who include our friends, family members, and lovers. They have the power to hurt us most, and sometimes do, simply because they can. Not in the sense that they say, "I'm going to hurt you because I can." (Although that sometimes can happen, and that's obviously a more involved issue) They do it because we give them the power that allows them to. They have that power because of the nature of our relationship with them, and because of the value that they represent to us. This makes us more vulnerable. An insult hurled at us from a drunken person off the street is usually going to have less impact on us than the same insult hurled at us from someone who's close to us (Unless of course, they happen to be one and the same person) . Knocking over a bottle of Pepsi in our kitchen is going to cause much less of a reaction in us than knocking over a $500 of champagne in that same kitchen. And if you have a $500 bottle of champagne in your kitchen, then you and I need to discuss having dinner at your house sometime.
And we can also allow them to hurt us by simply being unrealistic. Just because we might care for, respect, and love these people more than we do most others, it doesn't make them any less imperfect or fallible. Oh, sure, we'd love it if they were. Now that would certainly make things easier on us wouldn't it? Ah... If wishes were fishes, the sea would be full...
But their imperfection actions don't mean that they love, respect, or regard us any less. Sometimes they just can't help themselves. And we have no control over that. However, what we can have control over is our perspective. We should remember that people are imperfect and that often they don't understand the impact that their words and actions have on us. (Unless we let them know. As highly as we think of those close to us, it's asking too much to expect them to be mind readers.) This can help lessen the likelihood or severity of us getting hurt. And sometimes, people just don't communicate well or accurately with their words or actions. We often have to look beyond the surface of things, determining what their motivations might be, or if their might be extenuating circumstances. Sometimes a complaint about whether or not you squeeze the toothpaste from the top or the bottom, roll the toilet paper underhand or overhand, or about how you're ALWAYS late, or any number of other things, is really a mixed-up way of expressing frustration over something else that is infinitely more important to them.
And we also have to allow for the fact, that many people simply have little or no interest in how WE think they should act,think, or be. That was a hard for for me to learn too. People have to decide for themselves who they're going to be. Good or bad, whether we like it or we don't, in the end, the decision is theirs alone. There's no guarantee that we can change them anyway, and it's more likely that all we'll get for our trouble is frustration, resentment, and hurt. Trying to fit people into a mold of what we want them to be, is going to be like trying to fit a 400 lb. man into a 32 waist pair of jeans. Its going to be futile, ugly, and there's likely to be lots of cursing. In the end, we learn to accept a person for who he or she basically is, both good and bad, or we don't.
Of course, another alternative would be to just say "The hell with it!" Then we can just detach ourselves from caring and feeling for others, and spin ourselves a little protective cocoon, sheltering ourselves from any potential disappointment and hurt. But when we shelter or close ourselves off from the potential hurt that goes along with caring for and getting close to people, we also shelter ourselves and close ourselves off from the potential pleasure that goes along with taking such a risk. And that really what it's all about isn't it? Weights and balances, pros v.s. cons, costs v.s. benefits... And perhaps the most fundamental question is: "Is my life better with or without this person in my life?" That's an individual decision, something that in the end is ours and ours alone. For we are the ones who primarily have to live with the consequences of our decisions, whether they be good or bad. The fact of the matter is that we were just not meant to be alone. It's not in our makeup. Maybe some of us feel the need for more or less people in our lives than do others, but we all need them to one extent or another. And for all the potential headaches and heartaches that go along with having people in our lives, there can be lots of wonderful benefits that people can deliver into our lives. As as mentioned, there are things that we can do to make that delivery go a little smoother. There are some amazing people in this world. I know, because I've come across them, and that may include you. And the fact that they're out there, living among the less than amazing, is why we're having this little chat. We just have to choose the ones who are worth it.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Friday, March 23, 2012
Thank You...
...For being you...Because I know that you've done something today, that is worth taking the time to thank you for. And it may be something that was unique to this day, or it may be something that you do on a daily basis. And maybe people are accustomed to you doing what you do, and because they expect it, they sometimes forget to say "Thank You". So, Thank You. For being a good friend, a good brother or sister, a good parent, or a good Son or Daughter, or a good spouse or significant other, a good employee, for being a good person, or for all of the above...Thank You. If you've done something special for a stranger, even if it's giving them a smile or a kind word... Thank You. For trying to be the best person that you can be, even when others sometimes make that hard to do... for having the strength to rise and greet the day, even when it'd be much easier for your eyes to remain closed... Thank You. And for when you put others first, because their happiness equals yours...Thank You. Thank You for being born, Thank you for Being... You.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
FIRST KISS
A Kiss. What tremendous power it can wield. It can stop time, causing the outside world to stand still, and can shut out the sound of every noise, not just from the world outside that joining of the lips, but the internal noise that often occupies our minds as well. It can be an opiate, a magic carpet ride, transporting us from the cares and concerns of the world. And perhaps no kiss makes as much of an impression on our memories as that of our first kiss. It may not necessarily be our best kiss, and if may not be with the love of our lives, but it is the one that we remember the most. The memory of it transports us to not only the moment of the actual kiss, but to a place in our personal history, that includes the music, the fashion, the friendships, activities and our surroundings of that time. The memory of that kiss instantly conjures up a tidal wave of thoughts and feelings of what it was like to "be" at that time.
My best friend Ronnie (not my partner in the kiss) and I were 13 years old, and walking through the West Covina Fashion Plaza on an Autumn Saturday afternoon, when we spotted 2 girls our age standing about 60 feet from us. One of the girls was quite attractive, wearing an all-white outfit which contrasted nicely against her long dark hair. I didn't have to think on it long before suggesting to Ronnie that we go talk to the girls. He was all for meeting the girls, but with one catch: He wanted me to approach the girls by myself, start chatting them up, and after putting in a good word for him, wave him over. I rolled my eyes. I never got that about him. He was voted "biggest flirt" in our school yearbook, and he never had a problem talking with the girls at school. But I guess that was his comfort zone, because when it came to approaching new girls in public, he always got shy. Then again, that often worked in my favor. Although at first, it didn't seem like that was going to be the case in this situation.
But I agreed to approach the girls on my own, and after laying the groundwork, I would call him over. Only there was another problem. We both wanted to pair up with the girl in All-White, who's name we would later learn was Tammy. So we were arguing back and forth as to who was going to pair up with Tammy (As if she had no say in the matter). When I realized that the girls would probably be long gone if things between Ronnie and I progressed to the point of us tumbling down the escalator and crashing through the display window of Payless Shoe Store, so I came up with a solution: We'd flip a coin. Only the mind of a 13 year old boy could come up with such a brilliant solution. I envisioned for myself a bright future as an International Diplomat and problem solver, with me being given a ticket tape parade, being invited to the Playboy Mansion, and the image of a spinning newspaper coming to a sudden stop, with the headlines reading, "Ambassador from El Monte brings peace to the Middle East." Being that Tammy was from Baldwin Park and I was from El Monte, Peace in the Middle East probably would've been easier than bringing peace between our two cities.
So we flipped a coin, with each of us agreeing that the winner would be the one who got to talk to Tammy. We flipped... I lost. Ronnie was beaming, and I was scowling, but I began my trek over to where the girls were (remarkably) still standing. But somehow, in the 10 seconds that it took for me to reach them, I totally forgot about the coin flip. And as I flashed my big Rico Suave smile, I turned to Tammy's friend, and I pointed to where Ronnie was standing and said: "Hey! My friend over there, the one who's pretending that he doesn't know I walked over here to talk to you, well, he thinks you're cute and wants to meet you!"
Well it goes without saying, that Ronnie's smile turned upside down, and he was a little disappointed with the turn of events. But sometimes, that's just how it turns out when you're content to only being the wingman. Fortunately, Tammy and I both felt we lucked out. After that first meeting, we exchanged phone numbers, and then very long phone conversations, and then decided that we wanted to start dating.
Later, after Tammy and I had been dating a while, I told her about the coin flip. To my surprise (remember, I was a 13 year old boy), she didn't see the humor in it. "You flipped a coin for me?! Are you serious?! You mean the only reason we're together is because you flipped a coin?!"
"Nooooo... Baby... You don't understand. We flipped the coin... BUT I CHEATED!" I guess some girls just have a hard time understanding how romantic a teen aged boy can be...
So it was a week later after we first met, on yet another Saturday afternoon, that I took the bus to Baldwin Park to meet up with Tammy. We agreed to meet at a shopping center which was both near the bus stop, and across the street from Morgan Park. I called her from a payphone (remember that we had those before cell phones?) when I arrived at the shopping center, and she told me that she and her friend Lorraine would meet me there in about 30 minutes. After a while, I got kind of nervous. Not about meeting her, and not because I thought she might not show, but because without my glasses, I couldn't see so well from a distance. I was a little worried that I might see girls in the distance, wave them over, and that they'd be the wrong ones. The last thing that I wanted was for Tammy and her friend to show up, and to see me talking to other girls! So when Tammy and Lorraine did show up, they stood across the street, in front of the park. They kept looking my way, and I kept looking in their direction, wondering if it was them. I'm sure that they were wondering why I didn't walk over to them, and with my not being sure whether or not they were who I was waiting for, I stood my ground, unwilling to commit. It must of looked like two gunfighters from the Old West, standing in the middle of the street, each waiting for the other to make a move. I could almost swear I heard the whistling theme from "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" playing in the background, and looked out of the corner of my eye in case I had to suddenly dodge any errant tumbleweeds.
Finally, after what must have seemed like forever, Tammy and Lorraine then crossed the street to where I was. "Why didn't you cross the street to where we were?" Being too embarrassed to tell the truth, I said the first thing that came to mind. "Oh... Well, I always make the girls come to me." Yeah...that was much better. And like you, I'm also starting to wonder if I'd get that kiss.
So we all crossed back across the street, and sat down at a bench at the park and began talking. After a while, it was about to get dark, and Lorraine asked us if we'd walk her home, so we got up and left the park. After walking Lorraine home, Tammy and I then walked in the dark to the Jr. High School that she attended in Baldwin Park. Although Lorraine was cute and fun to talk to, I was definitely glad that Tammy and I were now alone. We sat down next to each other on a bench that was under a covered patio on the school grounds. We were silent for a minute, and then we started talking. Tammy pointed in the direction of a white house across the street, and said "That's a whore house." My eyes grew just a little bit wide, and I asked "What?! Why do you say that?" She replied: "Because all of the girls who live there are sluts!" I kept looking in the direction of that house for a minute, until Tammy asked, with what sounded like a small hint of irritation in her voice, "Why are you still looking over there?" I said, "Oh, I was just trying to memorize the address."
Even though I was just being a bit of a smart-ass, (A name I was quite surprised at age 18 to find was NOT part of the birth name recorded on my birth certificate) Tammy definitely didn't appreciate the remark, and she quickly turned her face away from me. She had her head down a little bit, with her hair hanging down on both sides of her face, and she looked sad. I said, "Hey...look at me." But she kept her head down. I felt bad, because I really liked her, and I had made her feel sad with my stupid joke. She was sitting to the right of me, in her blue-grey sweater, and her grey corduroy pants. And I put my right arm around her shoulders, and with the index and middle fingers of my left hand, I reached across and lifted her chin while turning her face in my direction. Damn, she was beautiful. I said, "I'm sorry. I was only joking. I only like YOU." I then leaned in and kissed her. It was my first real kiss. It was slightly sloppy because it was my first time, but it was great nonetheless. We sat kissing in the dark for a long time, and then my left hand started to wander, and it began to caress her right breast. She murmured "Uhn, uhn", as if to say "no", and I responded back "Uhm, hmm."
Now, in spite of my being a hormonally charged 13 year old, when I murmured "Uhm, hmm," what I was trying to express was "OK, I'll stop." But she thought that I meant "Yeah, we're going to do this." That was an easy misunderstanding, especially since my hand had lingered for an extra second before it moved away. So she again murmured "Uhn, uhn" just as my hand had moved away. As great as the groping felt, part of the reason that I did it was because I felt that I was supposed to. This was my first real kiss, and I didn't quite realize that 2nd base was a lot for many 13 year old girls back then, especially on the first "date". We continued kissing, and she later walked me to my bus stop at the end of our visit.
Instead of going home after I got off of the bus in El Monte, I went instead to the home of my best friend Ronnie, where I would spend the night. I called Tammy on the phone to let her know that I had gotten home ok, and then I apologized for my groping and explained what it was I was trying to say by mumbling " Uhm, hmm." I told her that I really liked her, and although I enjoyed the touching, that I didn't want to do anything that she was uncomfortable with. She thanked me, and for the rest of our boyfriend/girlfriend relationship, I kept my hands to myself, but my lips I continued to share.
"A Kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years." - Rupert Brooke
THPEUDDQMVR
My best friend Ronnie (not my partner in the kiss) and I were 13 years old, and walking through the West Covina Fashion Plaza on an Autumn Saturday afternoon, when we spotted 2 girls our age standing about 60 feet from us. One of the girls was quite attractive, wearing an all-white outfit which contrasted nicely against her long dark hair. I didn't have to think on it long before suggesting to Ronnie that we go talk to the girls. He was all for meeting the girls, but with one catch: He wanted me to approach the girls by myself, start chatting them up, and after putting in a good word for him, wave him over. I rolled my eyes. I never got that about him. He was voted "biggest flirt" in our school yearbook, and he never had a problem talking with the girls at school. But I guess that was his comfort zone, because when it came to approaching new girls in public, he always got shy. Then again, that often worked in my favor. Although at first, it didn't seem like that was going to be the case in this situation.
But I agreed to approach the girls on my own, and after laying the groundwork, I would call him over. Only there was another problem. We both wanted to pair up with the girl in All-White, who's name we would later learn was Tammy. So we were arguing back and forth as to who was going to pair up with Tammy (As if she had no say in the matter). When I realized that the girls would probably be long gone if things between Ronnie and I progressed to the point of us tumbling down the escalator and crashing through the display window of Payless Shoe Store, so I came up with a solution: We'd flip a coin. Only the mind of a 13 year old boy could come up with such a brilliant solution. I envisioned for myself a bright future as an International Diplomat and problem solver, with me being given a ticket tape parade, being invited to the Playboy Mansion, and the image of a spinning newspaper coming to a sudden stop, with the headlines reading, "Ambassador from El Monte brings peace to the Middle East." Being that Tammy was from Baldwin Park and I was from El Monte, Peace in the Middle East probably would've been easier than bringing peace between our two cities.
So we flipped a coin, with each of us agreeing that the winner would be the one who got to talk to Tammy. We flipped... I lost. Ronnie was beaming, and I was scowling, but I began my trek over to where the girls were (remarkably) still standing. But somehow, in the 10 seconds that it took for me to reach them, I totally forgot about the coin flip. And as I flashed my big Rico Suave smile, I turned to Tammy's friend, and I pointed to where Ronnie was standing and said: "Hey! My friend over there, the one who's pretending that he doesn't know I walked over here to talk to you, well, he thinks you're cute and wants to meet you!"
Well it goes without saying, that Ronnie's smile turned upside down, and he was a little disappointed with the turn of events. But sometimes, that's just how it turns out when you're content to only being the wingman. Fortunately, Tammy and I both felt we lucked out. After that first meeting, we exchanged phone numbers, and then very long phone conversations, and then decided that we wanted to start dating.
Later, after Tammy and I had been dating a while, I told her about the coin flip. To my surprise (remember, I was a 13 year old boy), she didn't see the humor in it. "You flipped a coin for me?! Are you serious?! You mean the only reason we're together is because you flipped a coin?!"
"Nooooo... Baby... You don't understand. We flipped the coin... BUT I CHEATED!" I guess some girls just have a hard time understanding how romantic a teen aged boy can be...
So it was a week later after we first met, on yet another Saturday afternoon, that I took the bus to Baldwin Park to meet up with Tammy. We agreed to meet at a shopping center which was both near the bus stop, and across the street from Morgan Park. I called her from a payphone (remember that we had those before cell phones?) when I arrived at the shopping center, and she told me that she and her friend Lorraine would meet me there in about 30 minutes. After a while, I got kind of nervous. Not about meeting her, and not because I thought she might not show, but because without my glasses, I couldn't see so well from a distance. I was a little worried that I might see girls in the distance, wave them over, and that they'd be the wrong ones. The last thing that I wanted was for Tammy and her friend to show up, and to see me talking to other girls! So when Tammy and Lorraine did show up, they stood across the street, in front of the park. They kept looking my way, and I kept looking in their direction, wondering if it was them. I'm sure that they were wondering why I didn't walk over to them, and with my not being sure whether or not they were who I was waiting for, I stood my ground, unwilling to commit. It must of looked like two gunfighters from the Old West, standing in the middle of the street, each waiting for the other to make a move. I could almost swear I heard the whistling theme from "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" playing in the background, and looked out of the corner of my eye in case I had to suddenly dodge any errant tumbleweeds.
Finally, after what must have seemed like forever, Tammy and Lorraine then crossed the street to where I was. "Why didn't you cross the street to where we were?" Being too embarrassed to tell the truth, I said the first thing that came to mind. "Oh... Well, I always make the girls come to me." Yeah...that was much better. And like you, I'm also starting to wonder if I'd get that kiss.
So we all crossed back across the street, and sat down at a bench at the park and began talking. After a while, it was about to get dark, and Lorraine asked us if we'd walk her home, so we got up and left the park. After walking Lorraine home, Tammy and I then walked in the dark to the Jr. High School that she attended in Baldwin Park. Although Lorraine was cute and fun to talk to, I was definitely glad that Tammy and I were now alone. We sat down next to each other on a bench that was under a covered patio on the school grounds. We were silent for a minute, and then we started talking. Tammy pointed in the direction of a white house across the street, and said "That's a whore house." My eyes grew just a little bit wide, and I asked "What?! Why do you say that?" She replied: "Because all of the girls who live there are sluts!" I kept looking in the direction of that house for a minute, until Tammy asked, with what sounded like a small hint of irritation in her voice, "Why are you still looking over there?" I said, "Oh, I was just trying to memorize the address."
Even though I was just being a bit of a smart-ass, (A name I was quite surprised at age 18 to find was NOT part of the birth name recorded on my birth certificate) Tammy definitely didn't appreciate the remark, and she quickly turned her face away from me. She had her head down a little bit, with her hair hanging down on both sides of her face, and she looked sad. I said, "Hey...look at me." But she kept her head down. I felt bad, because I really liked her, and I had made her feel sad with my stupid joke. She was sitting to the right of me, in her blue-grey sweater, and her grey corduroy pants. And I put my right arm around her shoulders, and with the index and middle fingers of my left hand, I reached across and lifted her chin while turning her face in my direction. Damn, she was beautiful. I said, "I'm sorry. I was only joking. I only like YOU." I then leaned in and kissed her. It was my first real kiss. It was slightly sloppy because it was my first time, but it was great nonetheless. We sat kissing in the dark for a long time, and then my left hand started to wander, and it began to caress her right breast. She murmured "Uhn, uhn", as if to say "no", and I responded back "Uhm, hmm."
Now, in spite of my being a hormonally charged 13 year old, when I murmured "Uhm, hmm," what I was trying to express was "OK, I'll stop." But she thought that I meant "Yeah, we're going to do this." That was an easy misunderstanding, especially since my hand had lingered for an extra second before it moved away. So she again murmured "Uhn, uhn" just as my hand had moved away. As great as the groping felt, part of the reason that I did it was because I felt that I was supposed to. This was my first real kiss, and I didn't quite realize that 2nd base was a lot for many 13 year old girls back then, especially on the first "date". We continued kissing, and she later walked me to my bus stop at the end of our visit.
Instead of going home after I got off of the bus in El Monte, I went instead to the home of my best friend Ronnie, where I would spend the night. I called Tammy on the phone to let her know that I had gotten home ok, and then I apologized for my groping and explained what it was I was trying to say by mumbling " Uhm, hmm." I told her that I really liked her, and although I enjoyed the touching, that I didn't want to do anything that she was uncomfortable with. She thanked me, and for the rest of our boyfriend/girlfriend relationship, I kept my hands to myself, but my lips I continued to share.
"A Kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years." - Rupert Brooke
THPEUDDQMVR
Monday, March 19, 2012
IT MATTERS
"Words have power. Just as fire can be a gift, by both keeping us warm and cooking our food, for both sustenance and life, yet still have destructive power, with the ability to take away that same life, so words can prove to be a tool for either sustenance or destruction. Words have power. Once they're said, we can't take them back. There's no bungee cord on them that allow us to pull them back. Words spoken become a part of recorded history. So if we're going to say something, whose impression may last forever, let's make it positive, not negative. Let's build up, not tear down."
"While it's true that we can always ask forgiveness for mispoken words that hurt or make someone feel "less than", we can't count on the offended person's ability to overcome the hurtful words. We can only exercise control over the words that come out of our mouths."
I first wrote the proceeding words several months ago, in one of my notebooks, with the intention of incorporating them as part of a future book. Ironically, and sadly, I came across them again, a couple of months later, the day after I failed to follow my own advice. In spite of the negative behavior that I've sometimes encountered from others, for years, I've managed to show discipline in the words that have come out of my mouths. I can't be responsible for the behavior of others, only mine. But on this particular day, with this particular situation, I failed to do so. And they've very possibly made an indelible impression on this person, in a negative way. In a single stroke, I managed to undo months of effort to build someone up, to try to help them forget the negative "Ghost Voices" of their past, which were often attempting to outshout the positive voices of their present. It can happen just that quickly. Whether or not others may say that my words that were spoken were accurate or not, justified or not, is irrelevant. The only things that is relevant is that I said them, and the impact that they made. And sometimes, 1000 apologies will never make up for one poorly spoken word.
And our misteps aren't always limited to words, but often can include our actions. I used to work in Behavior Management, working with both adults and at-risk youth. And one of the things that I would sometimes tell the clients was, "It only takes a second to make a dumb decision that we can pay for with the rest of our lives." And I'd relate to them the story of how years before, during my less evolved days, how I had become so upset during one arguement, that I threw a bowl of refried beans across the kitchen, both striking a wall and breaking the bowl. But of course, as so often happens with emotional reactions, thee were more negative consequences. There were beans splattered all over the wall, and the bowl made a hole in wall. And to make matters wores, they weren't even my bowl, my wall, or my apartment. Yeah, sometimes people make dumb mistakes, and other people pay for them. While I can now laugh at how ridiculous the situation was, it wasn't nearly so funny at the time. I had to hurry off back to work, being that I was on my lunch hours, but I obviously had to come back later in order to clean up the mess that I had made. By the time I got back, several hours later on that unusually warm Autumn night, the kitchen smelled like a Taco Bell restaurant had blown up. After many apologies for my earlier behavior, and a couple of hours of scrubbing the walls, the beans were nowhere to be been. But, the smell of the beans still remained, and a $50 dollar wall patch job needed to be done as well. So long after my attempts to clean up the mess were over, the memory of my actions still lingered. And they were more costly than anticipated. But it isn't that the way it usually is with bad decisions?
When we're upset, the first thing that comes to our mind as far as a response, is usually the wrong thing. So taking a personal time out, whether it be counting to 10, physically removing ourselves from the situation, or whatever method is helpful, is always a good idea. I advised one young person, when he would feel himself beginning to get upset, to stop and ask himself these 3 questions. Since they can be easy to forget when we're upset or first trying to learn the new behavior, I wrote them down for him on two cards, one of which he carried in this wallet, and the other which he taped to his desk at school.
1. Ask yourself, " Why am I upet?"
Often the answer to this question is because we feel that were not getting what we want in one shape or form. Perhaps consideration, acknowledgement, respect, love, food, service, physical comfort, or any number of things.
2. Ask yourself, "What do I want to do about it? And is that the best thing to do?
3. Ask yourself, "Will that get me what I want?"
I find these questions helpful, not only because they can help us with our self-awareness as to our motivations and our feelings, but they also help ust to think things through. Because behind every emotion is a thought. Plus, the time it takes to consider them often takes 10 seconds, which gives us time to calm down some, and avoid reacting impulsively, and thus possibly avoid much regret.
And when it comes to split second decisions, there are lots of things that are more critical and impactful than throwing a bowl of refried beans. Some of them involve whether or not to use protection (when it comes to S.T.D. s, sharing is NOT caring), whether or not to pull the trigger of a gun, or to get behind the wheel of that car when we've tossed back a few adult beverages, and so on, and so on.
I don't mind being candid about some of my mistakes of the past, partly because I've learned from them. And also, because it can be tough learning life's lessons, and I often have learned not only from my mistakes, but the mistakes of others. It's shortened the learning curve for me, and if I can shorten the learning curve for someone else, by virture of my lessons learned...then I'm glad to do it. Every one of us is here for a purpose. We all matter, and so does what we do.
"While it's true that we can always ask forgiveness for mispoken words that hurt or make someone feel "less than", we can't count on the offended person's ability to overcome the hurtful words. We can only exercise control over the words that come out of our mouths."
I first wrote the proceeding words several months ago, in one of my notebooks, with the intention of incorporating them as part of a future book. Ironically, and sadly, I came across them again, a couple of months later, the day after I failed to follow my own advice. In spite of the negative behavior that I've sometimes encountered from others, for years, I've managed to show discipline in the words that have come out of my mouths. I can't be responsible for the behavior of others, only mine. But on this particular day, with this particular situation, I failed to do so. And they've very possibly made an indelible impression on this person, in a negative way. In a single stroke, I managed to undo months of effort to build someone up, to try to help them forget the negative "Ghost Voices" of their past, which were often attempting to outshout the positive voices of their present. It can happen just that quickly. Whether or not others may say that my words that were spoken were accurate or not, justified or not, is irrelevant. The only things that is relevant is that I said them, and the impact that they made. And sometimes, 1000 apologies will never make up for one poorly spoken word.
And our misteps aren't always limited to words, but often can include our actions. I used to work in Behavior Management, working with both adults and at-risk youth. And one of the things that I would sometimes tell the clients was, "It only takes a second to make a dumb decision that we can pay for with the rest of our lives." And I'd relate to them the story of how years before, during my less evolved days, how I had become so upset during one arguement, that I threw a bowl of refried beans across the kitchen, both striking a wall and breaking the bowl. But of course, as so often happens with emotional reactions, thee were more negative consequences. There were beans splattered all over the wall, and the bowl made a hole in wall. And to make matters wores, they weren't even my bowl, my wall, or my apartment. Yeah, sometimes people make dumb mistakes, and other people pay for them. While I can now laugh at how ridiculous the situation was, it wasn't nearly so funny at the time. I had to hurry off back to work, being that I was on my lunch hours, but I obviously had to come back later in order to clean up the mess that I had made. By the time I got back, several hours later on that unusually warm Autumn night, the kitchen smelled like a Taco Bell restaurant had blown up. After many apologies for my earlier behavior, and a couple of hours of scrubbing the walls, the beans were nowhere to be been. But, the smell of the beans still remained, and a $50 dollar wall patch job needed to be done as well. So long after my attempts to clean up the mess were over, the memory of my actions still lingered. And they were more costly than anticipated. But it isn't that the way it usually is with bad decisions?
When we're upset, the first thing that comes to our mind as far as a response, is usually the wrong thing. So taking a personal time out, whether it be counting to 10, physically removing ourselves from the situation, or whatever method is helpful, is always a good idea. I advised one young person, when he would feel himself beginning to get upset, to stop and ask himself these 3 questions. Since they can be easy to forget when we're upset or first trying to learn the new behavior, I wrote them down for him on two cards, one of which he carried in this wallet, and the other which he taped to his desk at school.
1. Ask yourself, " Why am I upet?"
Often the answer to this question is because we feel that were not getting what we want in one shape or form. Perhaps consideration, acknowledgement, respect, love, food, service, physical comfort, or any number of things.
2. Ask yourself, "What do I want to do about it? And is that the best thing to do?
3. Ask yourself, "Will that get me what I want?"
I find these questions helpful, not only because they can help us with our self-awareness as to our motivations and our feelings, but they also help ust to think things through. Because behind every emotion is a thought. Plus, the time it takes to consider them often takes 10 seconds, which gives us time to calm down some, and avoid reacting impulsively, and thus possibly avoid much regret.
And when it comes to split second decisions, there are lots of things that are more critical and impactful than throwing a bowl of refried beans. Some of them involve whether or not to use protection (when it comes to S.T.D. s, sharing is NOT caring), whether or not to pull the trigger of a gun, or to get behind the wheel of that car when we've tossed back a few adult beverages, and so on, and so on.
I don't mind being candid about some of my mistakes of the past, partly because I've learned from them. And also, because it can be tough learning life's lessons, and I often have learned not only from my mistakes, but the mistakes of others. It's shortened the learning curve for me, and if I can shorten the learning curve for someone else, by virture of my lessons learned...then I'm glad to do it. Every one of us is here for a purpose. We all matter, and so does what we do.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Beautifully, Uniquely... You
6 Billion people on this planet, and still...you were created. There must be a reason. There must be something special about you, that makes you just a little bit different than anyone else. Something that's unique to you, that's made you needed, necessary. Maybe you've discovered it already, and maybe you haven't. But I know that you've got it. And it makes you Beautiful. So if no one has told you that today, or showed you the appreciation that you deserve, then let me take a few moments to do that, and to remind you. And if by chance, I'm not around to say it, and others neglect to do so, it doesn't make you any less beautiful or special. Are snow capped mountains any less majestic, just because a day may go by where people fail to gaze on them? Is the song of a bird any less beautiful, because no one is in it's presence to hear it? No. Their Beauty remains constant, intact, waiting to be shared.
And I also want to thank you...for being uniquely you. So many strive to be just like everyone else, merely a carbon copy. Not only is it unnatural for anyone to be just like anyone else, it's also impossible. Just as no two snowflakes are alike, nor or any two sets of fingerprints alike, you are different than anyone who has come before you or anyone who will come after. And the fingerprints that you leave, the impression that you make on the world that you touch, will be just a little bit different than that of any other person. As will the footprints that you leave in any path that you walk. That is nothing to shrink back from, but something to embrace, to revel in, to celebrate. Anais Nin wrote: "Each person presents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."
You bring something uniquely different to this world, something that until you arrived was still unseen, because there was a need that was still unmet. None of us were made to be trivial or of no consequence. If we ever cross paths, I hope that I notice what it is about you that makes you special, unique, and beautiful. And if we don't, then I hope that someone else notices it and mentions it to you. And most importantly, I hope that you notice it and accept it as well. For the voice that speaks loudest in our minds is our own. Have a Beautiful Day. :)
And I also want to thank you...for being uniquely you. So many strive to be just like everyone else, merely a carbon copy. Not only is it unnatural for anyone to be just like anyone else, it's also impossible. Just as no two snowflakes are alike, nor or any two sets of fingerprints alike, you are different than anyone who has come before you or anyone who will come after. And the fingerprints that you leave, the impression that you make on the world that you touch, will be just a little bit different than that of any other person. As will the footprints that you leave in any path that you walk. That is nothing to shrink back from, but something to embrace, to revel in, to celebrate. Anais Nin wrote: "Each person presents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."
You bring something uniquely different to this world, something that until you arrived was still unseen, because there was a need that was still unmet. None of us were made to be trivial or of no consequence. If we ever cross paths, I hope that I notice what it is about you that makes you special, unique, and beautiful. And if we don't, then I hope that someone else notices it and mentions it to you. And most importantly, I hope that you notice it and accept it as well. For the voice that speaks loudest in our minds is our own. Have a Beautiful Day. :)
Saturday, March 17, 2012
"A Noble Cause" or... "And the motherf..."
"And the motherf*#%er that's left over, you put over there, and that's called a motherf*#@en remainder!" That's how my quick tempered stepfather was explaining to me how to do fractions, on that weeknight so many years ago. This was only one of two occasions that I could ever remember him taking any interest in how I was doing at school, and for me, those were two occasions to many. When it came to patience, he never gave Mother Theresa a run for her money to begin with, but he was probably even more pissed off at the thought that he probably shouldn't have had to explain the math to me to begin with.
I had always been a good student, particularly in math, so by all accounts, I shouldn't have had a problem with the schoolwork. Even though the teacher had explained it in class, at home that evening, it was like I was hearing it for the first time. Obviously, it was the first time that I had heard it explained THAT way. Maybe if my 3rd teacher had used the "f" word a little more often in class, I wouldn't have had to lose so much sleeptime that night because I was trying to complete my homework. Maybe that's what's wrong with education these days... there's just not enough educators dropping "f-bombs". Maybe that's what was missing in the proposal for "no child left behind". When my Stepfather taught me how to make scrambled eggs, he said, "First, you beat the shit out of the eggs, then, you pour a little bit of milk into those bastards, and you beat the shit out of them again!" Simple enough. I never went hungry. And I got a "2 for 1" lesson one Friday night when I was about 11. My stepfather stopped by the house around 4 pm, just long enough to tell me to bake some chicken for the family dinner, before he went off to drink with his buddies. However, the only instruction on baking chicken that I had ever come across before then, was when I was flipping channels on the tv one day, and I came across a cooking channel. However, I never heard Julia Child say to "Cook the son-of-a-bitch in the oven at 400...", so I was a little lost in the woods.
So I called my mom at her work around 4:30 pm, which she wasn't too thrilled about, to ask her for some instruction. She became upset, and told me not to do anything, and that she would make dinner when she got home around 6 pm. Hey, she didn't have to tell me twice, I just left the kitchen and went to watch a little bit of the Benny Hill show on tv.
Now 6:30 rolls around, and my stepfather comes into the house, drunk as usual on a Friday Night, and he sees my mom preparing dinner. So I get called out "onto the carpet" so to speak, and he's cursing at me for not preparing Dinner. "Didn't I f#**ing tell you to cook that f%**ing chicken?! After a long day at work, why does your mom have to come home and cooking fu**ing dinner?!! " This, and several other choice words were used for a few minutes, and then I explained that I didn't know how to bake the chicken, and that when I asked my mom for instruction, that she got mad and said not to do anything, and that she'd cook when she got home. That I actually wasn't at fault this time kind of took the wind out of his sails, and for one of the few times that I could remember, my stepfather looked flustered, and became speechless for a moment. And also for one of the few times that I could remember, he looked like he felt guilty for his outburst. He then went on to explain how to cook the f'n chicken, which was lesson number one, then went on to say, as if channeling the spirit of Mr.Rogers (well, if Mr. Rogers was smelling strongly of Alchohol and had gang tattoos on his forearms) : "From now on, if I tell you to do something, and later, your mom tells you to do the opposite, you tell her, 'Fuck you!' AND... if your mom tells you to do something, and I later tell you to do something else, you say 'Fuck you! My stepdad told me to do something else!"
So that night, I learned to bake chicken, and I also learned... well, I'm not quite sure what the second lesson was. It might've had something to do with the importance of good communication, but back then, I think that I was trying to rationalize that it was ok to use the "f" word when addressing your parents in certain situations. But I knew that the "drunken speech from a bad parent" clause, would probably kill my defense in the household courtroom.
The most important thing that all of those experiences, and so many more taught me, was that I really wanted to use a very different communication style if I ever had kids of my own. And thankfully, that has never been a problem for me. I don't mean "thankfully, I've never had kids", I mean, I'm thankful that I've escaped the pitfall that some people unfortunately fall into, which is to become the kind of parent that their parents were. I know that was true of my parents, that they repeated the cycle. I can understand how that would be hard not to do, because our environment, and our genetics as well, can exert a strong influence over us. But I've found, that even more important than our experiences and environment, is how we RESPOND to them. And that even if some of those experiences and environment negatively impact our environment, it's never too late to turn that around. Although how we start off in the race is important, how we finish the race is even more important.
Being a parent is without a doubt, the toughest, yet potentially, most rewarding career anyone can have. It doesn't mean that it's a career for everyone, or that it's wrong to not want that as one of one's careers. And we all know of some parents whose example presents a strong arguement for government enforced birth control. Mere survival of a family, particularly in the type of social and economical climates that currently exist, can be a challenge in itself. But what elevates the role and status of being a parent from being a big responsiblity to one of a most noble calling, is the daily effort to do more than just have our children to SURVIVE. It's the daily effort, in spite of whatever negative influences we may have encountered while growing up, or the daily pressures that we may face, or the struggles with our own imperfections, to discover and implement methods that will provide our children with the necessary skills and tools to THRIVE as well-adjusted human beings.
Although I've got to say, that when it comes to raising my daughter, she's made it relatively easy thusfar. She's a hard worker, very conscientious, and very respectful. Very different from what I was at her age. And thus, I was very surprised, and a little dismayed, when I was sent an email yesterday, showing that her grades weren't quite as good as I was used to seeing. She had an "A" and a "B" thrown in there among her grades, but her mother and I are used to that being the norm, not the exception. The facts that she was recently doing extra credit work for those two classes, plus her inability to "remember" what her recent report card looked like, were starting to paint a clear picture. Although she's far removed from "delinquent" status, my daughter was becoming a little distracted with socializing in class. Plus, now that she's in Jr. High, the workload has increased dramatically, and I think that she was surprised by that, and is having a little trouble adjusting. In spite of that, I made her aware that she still has to bear personal responsibility. I've helped her realize that what was once considered "above and beyond" in regards to her efforts, now have to be considered a minimum requirement if she hopes to do well in school. That was a lesson that first became evident to me back when I was trying to learn those motherf'n fractions back in the 3rd grade. I was in a combine 3rd and 4th grade classroom, because I was considered academically "advanced" for my age. However, I was even more advanced at being disruptive and getting into trouble. The fact that most of my schoolwork was quite easy for me, resulting in my finishing it quickly and thus having more time for acting out, just instilled in me the false confidence that doing well in class would never be a problem for me. But when the teacher introduced something new during math time, my overconfidence caused me to fail to pay attention during the instruction, resulting in confusion for me, and eventually leading to my stepfather's colorful instruction session.
Fortunately for my daughter, my previous experiences and lessons weren't limited to the need to step up in school as we get older and are presented with more challenges, but also included the lesson that what we say to our children is important, and more importantly, so is how we say it. My daughter never had to worry about me going Kung Fu Panda on her, or Samuel L. Jackson delivering a "death speech" in Pulp Fiction. The knowledge that her parents were a little disappointed in her grades and efforts, although not in HER, was enough to motivate her to vow to do better. Hearing of her father's experiences when he was in school (although they were appropriately censured just a bit for content), hearing of his reasons for wanting her to do well, and how education helps to give her options, and how good work habits can be transferred to any area or goal in life, and that it's possible to completely turn around a bad start, made an uncomfortable situation more bearable for her. And that, among other things, confirmed for her that she is supported and loved.
And those, I feel, are more important than any lessons that she'll ever learn in school.
I had always been a good student, particularly in math, so by all accounts, I shouldn't have had a problem with the schoolwork. Even though the teacher had explained it in class, at home that evening, it was like I was hearing it for the first time. Obviously, it was the first time that I had heard it explained THAT way. Maybe if my 3rd teacher had used the "f" word a little more often in class, I wouldn't have had to lose so much sleeptime that night because I was trying to complete my homework. Maybe that's what's wrong with education these days... there's just not enough educators dropping "f-bombs". Maybe that's what was missing in the proposal for "no child left behind". When my Stepfather taught me how to make scrambled eggs, he said, "First, you beat the shit out of the eggs, then, you pour a little bit of milk into those bastards, and you beat the shit out of them again!" Simple enough. I never went hungry. And I got a "2 for 1" lesson one Friday night when I was about 11. My stepfather stopped by the house around 4 pm, just long enough to tell me to bake some chicken for the family dinner, before he went off to drink with his buddies. However, the only instruction on baking chicken that I had ever come across before then, was when I was flipping channels on the tv one day, and I came across a cooking channel. However, I never heard Julia Child say to "Cook the son-of-a-bitch in the oven at 400...", so I was a little lost in the woods.
So I called my mom at her work around 4:30 pm, which she wasn't too thrilled about, to ask her for some instruction. She became upset, and told me not to do anything, and that she would make dinner when she got home around 6 pm. Hey, she didn't have to tell me twice, I just left the kitchen and went to watch a little bit of the Benny Hill show on tv.
Now 6:30 rolls around, and my stepfather comes into the house, drunk as usual on a Friday Night, and he sees my mom preparing dinner. So I get called out "onto the carpet" so to speak, and he's cursing at me for not preparing Dinner. "Didn't I f#**ing tell you to cook that f%**ing chicken?! After a long day at work, why does your mom have to come home and cooking fu**ing dinner?!! " This, and several other choice words were used for a few minutes, and then I explained that I didn't know how to bake the chicken, and that when I asked my mom for instruction, that she got mad and said not to do anything, and that she'd cook when she got home. That I actually wasn't at fault this time kind of took the wind out of his sails, and for one of the few times that I could remember, my stepfather looked flustered, and became speechless for a moment. And also for one of the few times that I could remember, he looked like he felt guilty for his outburst. He then went on to explain how to cook the f'n chicken, which was lesson number one, then went on to say, as if channeling the spirit of Mr.Rogers (well, if Mr. Rogers was smelling strongly of Alchohol and had gang tattoos on his forearms) : "From now on, if I tell you to do something, and later, your mom tells you to do the opposite, you tell her, 'Fuck you!' AND... if your mom tells you to do something, and I later tell you to do something else, you say 'Fuck you! My stepdad told me to do something else!"
So that night, I learned to bake chicken, and I also learned... well, I'm not quite sure what the second lesson was. It might've had something to do with the importance of good communication, but back then, I think that I was trying to rationalize that it was ok to use the "f" word when addressing your parents in certain situations. But I knew that the "drunken speech from a bad parent" clause, would probably kill my defense in the household courtroom.
The most important thing that all of those experiences, and so many more taught me, was that I really wanted to use a very different communication style if I ever had kids of my own. And thankfully, that has never been a problem for me. I don't mean "thankfully, I've never had kids", I mean, I'm thankful that I've escaped the pitfall that some people unfortunately fall into, which is to become the kind of parent that their parents were. I know that was true of my parents, that they repeated the cycle. I can understand how that would be hard not to do, because our environment, and our genetics as well, can exert a strong influence over us. But I've found, that even more important than our experiences and environment, is how we RESPOND to them. And that even if some of those experiences and environment negatively impact our environment, it's never too late to turn that around. Although how we start off in the race is important, how we finish the race is even more important.
Being a parent is without a doubt, the toughest, yet potentially, most rewarding career anyone can have. It doesn't mean that it's a career for everyone, or that it's wrong to not want that as one of one's careers. And we all know of some parents whose example presents a strong arguement for government enforced birth control. Mere survival of a family, particularly in the type of social and economical climates that currently exist, can be a challenge in itself. But what elevates the role and status of being a parent from being a big responsiblity to one of a most noble calling, is the daily effort to do more than just have our children to SURVIVE. It's the daily effort, in spite of whatever negative influences we may have encountered while growing up, or the daily pressures that we may face, or the struggles with our own imperfections, to discover and implement methods that will provide our children with the necessary skills and tools to THRIVE as well-adjusted human beings.
Although I've got to say, that when it comes to raising my daughter, she's made it relatively easy thusfar. She's a hard worker, very conscientious, and very respectful. Very different from what I was at her age. And thus, I was very surprised, and a little dismayed, when I was sent an email yesterday, showing that her grades weren't quite as good as I was used to seeing. She had an "A" and a "B" thrown in there among her grades, but her mother and I are used to that being the norm, not the exception. The facts that she was recently doing extra credit work for those two classes, plus her inability to "remember" what her recent report card looked like, were starting to paint a clear picture. Although she's far removed from "delinquent" status, my daughter was becoming a little distracted with socializing in class. Plus, now that she's in Jr. High, the workload has increased dramatically, and I think that she was surprised by that, and is having a little trouble adjusting. In spite of that, I made her aware that she still has to bear personal responsibility. I've helped her realize that what was once considered "above and beyond" in regards to her efforts, now have to be considered a minimum requirement if she hopes to do well in school. That was a lesson that first became evident to me back when I was trying to learn those motherf'n fractions back in the 3rd grade. I was in a combine 3rd and 4th grade classroom, because I was considered academically "advanced" for my age. However, I was even more advanced at being disruptive and getting into trouble. The fact that most of my schoolwork was quite easy for me, resulting in my finishing it quickly and thus having more time for acting out, just instilled in me the false confidence that doing well in class would never be a problem for me. But when the teacher introduced something new during math time, my overconfidence caused me to fail to pay attention during the instruction, resulting in confusion for me, and eventually leading to my stepfather's colorful instruction session.
Fortunately for my daughter, my previous experiences and lessons weren't limited to the need to step up in school as we get older and are presented with more challenges, but also included the lesson that what we say to our children is important, and more importantly, so is how we say it. My daughter never had to worry about me going Kung Fu Panda on her, or Samuel L. Jackson delivering a "death speech" in Pulp Fiction. The knowledge that her parents were a little disappointed in her grades and efforts, although not in HER, was enough to motivate her to vow to do better. Hearing of her father's experiences when he was in school (although they were appropriately censured just a bit for content), hearing of his reasons for wanting her to do well, and how education helps to give her options, and how good work habits can be transferred to any area or goal in life, and that it's possible to completely turn around a bad start, made an uncomfortable situation more bearable for her. And that, among other things, confirmed for her that she is supported and loved.
And those, I feel, are more important than any lessons that she'll ever learn in school.
Friday, March 16, 2012
I'll Be There...
In your darkest hour, during your most intense pain, when you feel your strength slipping away, during your greatest thirst, or deepest hunger... will you accept my outstretched hand, hear my whispered words, feel the warmth of my smile, lean on my broad shoulders, settle into my embrace?
You hope for me, ask for me, and if you dare believe in my possibility... be ready. The exact time I'll arrive will be different for everyone, but it will always be at the same time for you...
It'll be when you're ready, and when you need me the most.
"Angels whisper to us in our darkest hour, because they've seen a better place."
You hope for me, ask for me, and if you dare believe in my possibility... be ready. The exact time I'll arrive will be different for everyone, but it will always be at the same time for you...
It'll be when you're ready, and when you need me the most.
"Angels whisper to us in our darkest hour, because they've seen a better place."
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