One Thousand Words

Today is MK’s last day as a fifteen-year-old. I’m struck by how quickly she’s growing up and also how grown up she’s always been.

I recently read a book she’d had me buy for her kindle. ‘You have to read this book!’ she’d said. And she was right…

At this age, as a parent, you wonder what you don’t about your children. There’s no easy way to find out. I guess you could read their texts, or stalk their. Tumblr page, or try to interpret the look you get when you ask how they’re doing.

I started reading a few days ago. I’d finished all I had in queue in our shared kindle account, and remembered this book. The subject matter was hard as a parent, a first-person story of a teenage girl suffering from terminal cancer. So as I absorbed the story, and the inherent emotions, I was particularly surprised when I first found a highlighted sentence in the book.

Immediately, the mind and heart of this remarkable child was exposed. It was perhaps the simplest way to see her and admire the complexity of her emotions. It was a little weird, I’ll grant you to see over her shoulder in this way.

“But it was a privilege to love him, huh?

I nodded into his shirt.

“Gives you an idea how I feel about you,” he said.

Happy Birthday to the most kick-ass woman I know.

I’ve been both a passive and active participant in discussions this week about the need for adults to own their shit. These conversations have left me largely perplexed about why people have such difficulty in admitting their frailties and are so blind to why denial is a symptom of the larger issue.

One mistake too many parents make is trying to let their children believe they are perfect and always right. It’s intimidating and suffocating, and always leads to disappointment. The better course for me has always been to be honest and real with the kids. Explain that we all make mistakes, but don’t let them define you. It’s a simple function of the broader commitment to making better humans, not making ourselves into semi-deities to be blindly obeyed.

It also goes to acknowledging our children’s own frailties. We are not perfect. We can’t live in denial of the things that afflict them, nor can we try to push off responsibility for them either. Children are to be loved unconditionally. Our examples are their road maps for future behavior. Denial causes them to dig in or doubt (neither of which are healthy) and failing to treat the problem leads to long term infection which eventually can never be cured.

Yes, it takes being flexible, patient, afraid and fearless. You can’t defer to another, and must always be vulnerable to the truths that come from their hearts, burned there by things heard, seen and felt.

One of the most difficult decisions of my life came from the realization that I had to provide a different model of living that could only come from being alone than they would receive jointly. It wasn’t an indictment of styles, but instead the need I felt for them to have the diversity of approaches. And the reality that I could not be the parent I wanted to be and should be to them in active partnership.

Has it worked? Don’t know yet.

But I feel comfortable about where they are. I love that they are strong enough to confront me when I don’t see my mistakes, attitude or inconsistencies, and comfortable that I won’t deny it or be angry at their willingness to give me that perspective.

Am I perfect as a parent? No one is, and feel I have something new to learn every day. Listening and trying to comprehend helps. Not being afraid to get an outside perspective has made me see the world outside my narrow view.

Most importantly, my comments are not meant to be an indictment of any other approach. But being open, vulnerable and always understanding has worked for me. Admitting when I’m wrong and my failings have made me see what’s better about this approach than trying to maintain that ‘perfect’ image.

I’m blessed, and being a parent is the best thing I’ll ever do.

Some mornings, on the road for work or otherwise, my mind races along with all the big thinks and little tasks that fill my life. The what if’s and don’t forgets make me a bit nuts with the fear I’ll forget something or won’t remember the solution I dreamt up in these moments of solitary confinement.

No, officer, I would never dream of typing my blog while driving at 80 mph in the rain and listening to EPL on the radio. That would be irresponsible.

I don’t think we give enough credit to the moments alone and their overall positive impact they can have in our lives. A part of that is the fear we have of the inner voice taking over, or of simply being alone. But I’ve found it’s one of the great gifts available. Once you are comfortable with yourself, people fit better in your life.

But these mornings are a great chance to plan, contemplate, strengthen and discover fortitude that can be elusive. Yes there are tasks to be done, but they’ll get done. No doubt there’s lot I need to read, absorb and summarize. A few more minutes in bed would have been nice but was possible. So I exercise my brain and my heart in all the ways I can.

The skies are grey, but it’s sunny inside. I appreciate the good that comes with every mile, every thought and will be rested when I reach my destination.

While this question, on its face, is the kind one would expect at the end of one’s life, I guess it really isn’t…

I watched Saving Private Ryan last night because I couldn’t fall asleep, and the end of that movie always kills me because the older Ryan is standing at the graveyard, and asking the Captain’s gravestone if he earned what these folks had done for him. He turns to his wife and asks the question — the topic of this blog — because it haunts him.

Whether we live a good life is something we all worry about (or at least most of us with warm blood and a soul), and the difficulty is how you measure it. Having confronted questions lately, I also realize that for many people, that one mistake can define you despite all you do. Is it really fair to hold someone up to the glare and judge them based on the mistakes we make or to look at the totality of the evidence of their life to make that assessment? All of this leads to the broader questions about who stands in judgment and how much we really ought to be involved in these assessments.

It’s simple really: we shouldn’t judge each other. But we do. It’s something I work on regularly but frankly fail at just as frequently. It’s easy to evaluate someone’s life based on how they dress, talk, drive, vote, who they pull for between Carolina and Duke or whatever, but it’s really not fair.

I’ve definitely been guilty throughout my life by using instinct, the little things I observe and gut feelings to assess people, but gotten better as I’ve gotten older to not rely exclusively on those measures to really pigeon-hole someone. Some of that appraisal has to do with determining whether or not I want to hang out — be friends with them, or just accept certain people in my life, without regard to having something more than superficial with them.

My feelings about people change, evolve based on interaction… more often than not, I’m burned three times before I give up (and for some people, I’ve been burned so many times, it’s a miracle that I don’t have ongoing medical treatment other than anti-depressants). But the real part of this is not about how I feel about others, but how much I let them down as their friend.

It happens. I recently cancelled a trip to Sacramento because of work issues, disappointing a good friend to help with an event. I don’t get something done that I needed to, or even in a timely way. I have helped and failed, I’ve not helped and failed. My feelings evolve, or devolve, or revolve, and it become organic.

All of this too makes me think about judgment, as envisioned by Revelations, and how that process will work. I remember as a kid thinking about the movie of my life being played before God, and the utter embarrassment that would come from that showing. Now it’s a classic Baptist ploy that imbeds guilt in your every action (which is not a bad thing, but just saying…), but you begin to understand the totality. Sadly it also diminishes the absolute power of forgiveness, especially the kind that comes from the son.

At this stage of my life, I’ve found that forgiveness is actually a better way to live your life. You are far more likely to live happier, and be better judged for what you do or don’t do based on how you forgive and forget. It’s very golden rule…

When the movie ends, and I sit there in tears (yes, I cry and not that afraid to admit it), I realize the question is really my own. It’s a life unfinished so I can’t worry about that today, and I have to accept the real assessment will not be my own, or those of my friends, family, children or random people I glare at as I pass them on the right. So I live every day, and smile my way through it all. And earn it because that’s what really matters.

I am occasionally confronted with my past, and am often judged on only a part of a story. Recently, the impact of seeing and knowing some but not all is more personal. It made me consider more carefully how to explain that the mistakes of the past are not the only way to define me.

I own my past and the impact it has on the rest of my life. The facts are often what they are, and cannot be changed. I’ve made choices, ones that might be misunderstood, but have to accept how they’re seen by others is never as simple as it otherwise appears.

Everyone’s perspective is formed by information, sources and experience. That can cloud everything else, influencing how they are interpreted or lead to assumptions that aren’t fair. The view that comes from that process can be disheartening and destructive.

But what really matters?

How I live my life today and don’t let myself be defined by it?

How I’ve made everything right?

How I raised children and teach them that i am human and can own when I’m wrong?

That I don’t run from it and never taken the easy way out?

I’ve apologized without caveat. I’ve made those I hurt whole. I’m a better person from my mistakes. All I’ve asked to people in my life is to see me as I am today. At my lowest, the real friends never judged and accepted me as I am.

Now, I won’t let someone be hurt or torn because of something that happened years ago.

This week, standing in a committee room at the North Carolina General Assembly, at a hearing for a piece of legislation that I wondered about in about every meaning of that word, I was glad I lost.

There was a time in my life when running for office was what I always wanted. It’s not that I don’t love politics… I do. But one thing is very clear to me now as I look back over my life: I am not a politician. I lack the patience, the partisanship, and the appreciation for the process of not saying what you are really doing to be effective in this world.

I stood in the back, listening to the debate (or question/answer part of the meeting), and had to accept that this was not a place I could have ever been for long.

All of that said, I don’t dislike or distrust politicians. They have a role, and I don’t fault the means by which things get done, or rather don’t get done. The system is set-up to be this way — slow, deliberate, and a constant battle for the opinions of the 10% of people who could care less about politics, but are the ultimate decision-makers in most elections.

I could bemoan partisanship, or gerrymandering, or that my party is not in power, but again, none of that is fair — it’s the nature of things.

I’d rather be where I am in my life professionally — making a living the best way I can, and personally, as a father and friend. I prefer moving everything forward in my life without the press caring about what I do.

So bless their hearts, and thank God for unanswered prayers.

From my friend and classmate Julie Reynold’s Mindfulness Practices Blog:

I recently received an email asking me to forward a flyer to my students about a workshop entitled “How to be in love.” I quipped in a Facebook status that I was sure my friends could come up with some mighty funny tips for such a workshop. And they did…but they also surprised me by sharing incredible insights. Here are some of those tips offered by this generous group of people. I, for the most part, have simply organized them into the categories that naturally emerged.

1. Fall in Love.

There’s something pretty magical/chemical/instinctual about falling in love. Falling in love (or out of love, for that matter) is typically a lot more exciting than being in love. But perhaps that is part of the problem…. One friend writes: “I’ve fallen in love with a small number of people, but that number is greater than one, and each of those was a “I just knew it” kind of fall. I’ve been able to stay in love with just one of those people, though, and that’s taken 20 years of daily work. Ninety-five percent of that has been mighty enjoyable, but it’s still work nonetheless.”

Part of the “work” of love is knowing what feels like “being spoiled” to the other person and being willing to do that. Never get stagnate in your relationship. Surprise each other. There always needs to be a little “something, something” that he/she is not expecting. Here are some thoughts from a few friends:

• My partner brings me two or three cups of coffee every morning while I drag myself out of bed. It’s unbelievably sweet, and totally unnecessary and I love her like crazy for it. I cook for her and make her pre-packaged lunches with the leftovers. And so on and so forth. Lots of spoiling going on. 
• Spoiling your partner becomes a virtuous circle that reinforces and amplifies itself, and then a way of life. 
• I’ve always been a fan of ‘little loving acts.’ -something as simple as fixing a sandwich for them when they weren’t expecting it. I have a much easier time giving and receiving them than I do the grand gestures. Grand gestures usually feel like play-acting to me. But a little loving act just sends the message of ‘I like you. You’re neat.’

9. Recognize that you are two unique individuals. 

Seriously. I’m not joking.