I’ve never been a person who lives by a specific code. What I mean is, I invent my life as I go (probably not a unique trait.) Some of that comes from my upbringing. I moved around a lot as a child and flexibility was the name of the game. It was pretty near impossible to form a hardened mindset about anything because I never knew where I would end up and what I would have to cope with.
While I do have a strong moral compass, I don’t possess a solid set of Dr Laura type principles to fall back on when things go south. To me that dichotomy is interesting and the focus of this article.
I have been called a ‘good guy’ by people I trust (not in a good way mind you). What I think they mean is that I have a tendency to go out of my way not to hurt people’s feelings. Don’t get me wrong, if I am actually slighted I will respond, but I don’t go to extra lengths to hurt someone I don’t know (or someone I know or that matter). I’ve also been told that I take on too many responsibilities and don’t let those around me help.
There are three reasons for this.
1. I don’t believe in having people do things for me that I am perfectly capable of doing myself.
2. There are some things that I know I am faster at and it makes no sense to watch someone struggle with an issue I can handle in three seconds.
3. I’m not interested in making extra work for myself when a task gets done incorrectly and then has to be redone or fixed. (I am not the sort to watch someone do something over and over again when it’s obvious they don’t get it.)
The above list isn’t a value set, but I can see how they could be interpreted as one.
Since I never developed a rock solid way of looking at everything around me I’ve been free to reinvent myself. One month I can wear all black and listen only to rap music. The next month I am wearing a brighter color and am only interested in classical. The point is I don’t see the value in locking my heart to change. A lot of what I do believe deep inside comes from this notion.
I believe in family. I believe in love. I believe in Coney Island dogs and big pretzels. I trust that God has a plan for everyone, but I probably don’t believe in God the way that you do. I have my own version of heaven and hell (just like I think everyone really does). I feel pain when I look at the starving children around the world, but I am also aware that I am shallow enough to probably never do anything to help them. I am wrapped up in my own cocoon of self pity and anguish at the same time that I also love this entire world and the blue sky.
Values are contradictions when you get right down to it. I have so many friends who talk a good game about supporting their families and community and then never do anything for either. I have lived my whole life around people who claim to have religious and sanctified hearts only to be out on Friday and Saturday night drinking everything in the club and chasing after someone else’s wife. News stories run almost every day about some parent beating their child to death so they could have their freedom. And I’ll bet that all these different kinds of people have one thing in common.
They all have a value system.
It might not match mine or yours, but it’s a system that works for them nonetheless. It allows them to justify everything that happens in their world. Just like you and I do. But if you listen to certain people on the radio and TV, or in your family for that matter, you are supposed to develop one way of looking at the world so that you will fit into society. The popular concept is that marching lock-step with those around you will help you achieve in life. But wait, if that were true then why are there so many malcontents and social misfits making millions of dollars per year? Somebody somewhere is keeping secrets…
So, of what use is a value system?
My personal belief is that what you value determines how your life will be spent. Human beings are notorious creatures of habit and we observe those habits regardless of the circumstances. If we value companionship enough then we have friends and acquaintances. If we value money above all else, we will find ways to have a fat wallet. If we desire to be alone, well, there are ways to make that happen as well.
Values change. Usually as a person ages and experiences more of life there is a dawning wisdom about the nature of the world. It isn’t always accurate. Like I said earlier we are creatures of habit and one of our major habits is interpreting the world around us through our own filters. But remember the truest things about experience – Garbage In, Garbage Out. If those filters are clogged with years of resentment and living lies then the perception will be colored by that. If the filter is based in a sanitized version of the world then the perception will be tainted as well.
I guess my point is, since not very many of us see the world as it truly is, how can we claim to have a set system of values designed to cope with it all? I’m not the smartest person alive, but I do recognize that my perception is colored by who I have ‘decided’ to be at any one stage in life. Since I’ve started down the path with this blog I’ve figured out a lot. However, what I’ve discovered is the more stuff I learn the more ignorant I realize I am. Somehow, I think it will take more than a locked scheme of values to help with that.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Communication is so much more than just talking
Although I have been writing all of my life, when the opportunity arose to do a series of articles on relationships, I had to step back for a moment and think about it.
Okay, I have some experience in the arena. In my short time on the planet I’ve been married twice. To two incredible women who are as different from each other as night and day. All told, my marriage experience runs over 22 years. I have raised my children and travelled around the world. I’ve got life experience garnered the hard way, like most everyone else. I’ve managed to learn a thing or two because I love to study the human animal up close and personal. But a relationship series?
Hmm…
Let me say this much – I am not a trained professional. All my information is home spun and hard knock taught. You will probably never see me on Oprah giving advice to husbands and wives across America. Not that I would anyway…
On the other hand, I have earned every single scar that I possess. My memories of love and pain are as relevant to the current state of relationships as anyone else. And on top of that, I am not ashamed to talk about my mistakes, just as I am not ashamed to talk about my triumphs.
What is a relationship between a man and a woman but a series of dismal mistakes and ultimate triumphs? A realization of how two people can complete each other in a way that simply isn’t possible for an individual.
Not to say that being on your own for a period of time is a bad thing. Some of my most effective learning experiences have come from spending time alone, getting to know who I truly was. But to feel whole, to feel truly needed, there has to be more than one. Remember, you can almost always get away with lying to yourself, but you can only lie to another person for so long.
Over the course of my two marriages one theme has been constant. Communication is the key to survival. When I was first married, I assumed that we were communicating. Hell, we’d been high school sweethearts. We had survived the destruction of our mothers friendship and the temptation of other people. Including the first two years of my time in the Army. I thought that I knew her and she knew me.
My mistake was in the assumption. It was also in forgetting a prime fact about people – they change.
I assumed that she and I would always be together.
I assumed that she had my best interests at heart.
I assumed that she wanted the same thing I did.
Notice a pattern?
Even through talking to someone every day it’s possible not to understand them. Communication is more than just spitting words at each other. It’s the process of using words and actions to convey meaning to a being outside you. Realize that people who aren’t in your head don’t get your intention or sometimes even your meaning. Showing someone you love them is such a multifaceted effort that it’s amazing to me that relationships work at all. There are so many convolutions possible between two people that it’s frightening. On the flip side of what I just said is the fact that the convolutions make relationships such fun and so worth the effort. Even riding a motorcycle through a burning building doesn’t carry the same rush as finally discovering a way to open up to a person you’re trying to woo.
So in my first marriage I made a serious mistake. I never asked my wife what she wanted. I continued to march as if I already had the answer and she would fall into lock step behind me. I didn’t (or couldn’t) comprehend that when two people get together they are still ‘2’ people. Two minds. Set sets of desires. Two ultimate destinies.
Ultimately she and I split, but I emerged from the event with some strengths and knowledge that I hadn’t possessed before. I also realized one thing; it’s not a good idea to think that everything will be alright tomorrow just because it is today.
Relationships take work. A level of effort that borders on the Herculean. Communication has to go both ways. It has to be realistic and it HAS to include both. Ever tried talking to a solid brick wall? Have any luck getting it to be a wooden fence?
By realistic I mean reasonable. Asking for things that are completely outside of your mate’s ability or willingness to provide is a sure way to failure. I’m not saying to keep secrets, although in all honesty all relationships have some secrets. There is no reason that you should have to reveal every single thing from your life to anyone. Some things are truly private. For the most part she or he will be willing to listen and try to make changes. Within reason.
Remember they are there because they were flexible enough to accept you in the first place. But more to the point a bond of trust exists. That bond will ensure a willing audience. It goes without saying that there are things I’ve revealed to my wife that I wouldn’t reveal to my mother. I trust that she will keep those things in confidence and because that bond of trust exists between us, I am free to share or ask of her what I will. And it goes both ways, she trusts me so opening up is easier.
Notice I didn’t say easy. I said easier. It’s never easy to give that much of yourself away without knowing exactly what you will get in return. But that bond of trust greases the wheels. You have less chance of feeling judged.
That’s why communication, true communication, is so damned necessary. Just talking won’t do it. There has to be an understanding by both of you that judgment and recrimination are not a part of the equation. There has to be full knowledge that your words or feelings won’t end up in the National Enquirer.
Or the six o’clock news…
Okay, I have some experience in the arena. In my short time on the planet I’ve been married twice. To two incredible women who are as different from each other as night and day. All told, my marriage experience runs over 22 years. I have raised my children and travelled around the world. I’ve got life experience garnered the hard way, like most everyone else. I’ve managed to learn a thing or two because I love to study the human animal up close and personal. But a relationship series?
Hmm…
Let me say this much – I am not a trained professional. All my information is home spun and hard knock taught. You will probably never see me on Oprah giving advice to husbands and wives across America. Not that I would anyway…
On the other hand, I have earned every single scar that I possess. My memories of love and pain are as relevant to the current state of relationships as anyone else. And on top of that, I am not ashamed to talk about my mistakes, just as I am not ashamed to talk about my triumphs.
What is a relationship between a man and a woman but a series of dismal mistakes and ultimate triumphs? A realization of how two people can complete each other in a way that simply isn’t possible for an individual.
Not to say that being on your own for a period of time is a bad thing. Some of my most effective learning experiences have come from spending time alone, getting to know who I truly was. But to feel whole, to feel truly needed, there has to be more than one. Remember, you can almost always get away with lying to yourself, but you can only lie to another person for so long.
Over the course of my two marriages one theme has been constant. Communication is the key to survival. When I was first married, I assumed that we were communicating. Hell, we’d been high school sweethearts. We had survived the destruction of our mothers friendship and the temptation of other people. Including the first two years of my time in the Army. I thought that I knew her and she knew me.
My mistake was in the assumption. It was also in forgetting a prime fact about people – they change.
I assumed that she and I would always be together.
I assumed that she had my best interests at heart.
I assumed that she wanted the same thing I did.
Notice a pattern?
Even through talking to someone every day it’s possible not to understand them. Communication is more than just spitting words at each other. It’s the process of using words and actions to convey meaning to a being outside you. Realize that people who aren’t in your head don’t get your intention or sometimes even your meaning. Showing someone you love them is such a multifaceted effort that it’s amazing to me that relationships work at all. There are so many convolutions possible between two people that it’s frightening. On the flip side of what I just said is the fact that the convolutions make relationships such fun and so worth the effort. Even riding a motorcycle through a burning building doesn’t carry the same rush as finally discovering a way to open up to a person you’re trying to woo.
So in my first marriage I made a serious mistake. I never asked my wife what she wanted. I continued to march as if I already had the answer and she would fall into lock step behind me. I didn’t (or couldn’t) comprehend that when two people get together they are still ‘2’ people. Two minds. Set sets of desires. Two ultimate destinies.
Ultimately she and I split, but I emerged from the event with some strengths and knowledge that I hadn’t possessed before. I also realized one thing; it’s not a good idea to think that everything will be alright tomorrow just because it is today.
Relationships take work. A level of effort that borders on the Herculean. Communication has to go both ways. It has to be realistic and it HAS to include both. Ever tried talking to a solid brick wall? Have any luck getting it to be a wooden fence?
By realistic I mean reasonable. Asking for things that are completely outside of your mate’s ability or willingness to provide is a sure way to failure. I’m not saying to keep secrets, although in all honesty all relationships have some secrets. There is no reason that you should have to reveal every single thing from your life to anyone. Some things are truly private. For the most part she or he will be willing to listen and try to make changes. Within reason.
Remember they are there because they were flexible enough to accept you in the first place. But more to the point a bond of trust exists. That bond will ensure a willing audience. It goes without saying that there are things I’ve revealed to my wife that I wouldn’t reveal to my mother. I trust that she will keep those things in confidence and because that bond of trust exists between us, I am free to share or ask of her what I will. And it goes both ways, she trusts me so opening up is easier.
Notice I didn’t say easy. I said easier. It’s never easy to give that much of yourself away without knowing exactly what you will get in return. But that bond of trust greases the wheels. You have less chance of feeling judged.
That’s why communication, true communication, is so damned necessary. Just talking won’t do it. There has to be an understanding by both of you that judgment and recrimination are not a part of the equation. There has to be full knowledge that your words or feelings won’t end up in the National Enquirer.
Or the six o’clock news…
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Man up
What exactly does it mean to be a ‘Man’?
If you ask a hundred people you’re going to get a hundred different answers. For years now I’ve been trying to define what being a man means to me without much success. There are so many different facets that make up the concept and reality of ‘being a man’.
• It can mean holding a job and paying bills on time
• It can mean being a provider for those you care about
• It can mean being a leader and visionary
• It can mean riding a megaton rocket into orbit and being a hero
• And it can mean holding on to your values in the face of incredible adversity.
But is it more? The stuff above isn’t really all that taxing if you think about it logically. Okay, it’s true that finding and maintaining a job isn’t as easy as it used to be. But the reality of the work world hasn’t changed significantly. You go to work, do what you have to and draw a paycheck. Unless your job involves disarming bombs on a daily basis, it’s probably pretty safe.
No, what I’m talking are the more esoteric things. What about the journey to find a place in the world? What about the search for happiness and fulfillment as a living, breathing human being?
There’s supposed to be more to life than just paying bills and raising children. My way of thinking has always focused on meeting the needs of those that I am responsible for. Parents, family, children, my wife. But is there supposed to be more?
Life can be busy. So busy, in fact, that the things that matter the most get lost in the shuffle. At some point it becomes paramount to stop yourself and take stock. Some of the greatest lessons we learn don’t come out of any classroom. They come from sitting quietly with ourselves and being brutally honest about how we feel.
It becomes a question of – are you making choices or are your choices making you? For a long time I never understood the difference. I assumed that I was making choices and my life was proceeding accordingly. As it turns out, that is far from true.
In the space between heartbeats there are millions of choices. Go left or go right? Get married or stay single? Kids or no kids? Eat healthy or pig out on the fast food? Pay the light bill or buy food?
A man is presented with choices every day and quite a few things depend on making the right ones. The health and welfare of his family come immediately to mind. Sometimes a bad choice isn’t a total disaster. There are a ton of things that you can screw up and get a do-over. But again there’s that nagging question – what is a man, really? How many screw ups do you get? Is there a limit on fallibility?
I know someone who believes that everyone should live a life of action as opposed to reaction. This person thinks that all problems in life could be solved if people simply acted quickly and decisively no matter the situation. No one I know acts this way, not even the person who made the statement. I don’t really even know what a person like that would be like. Even the strongest leaders need to think things through before crashing through walls.
I also know a person who thinks that a man is supposed to be the rock and anchor for his home. He is expected to be there for everyone in the family whenever they need him regardless of the situation. He’s should be full of wisdom and useful knowledge, but also be a disciplinarian when the occasion calls for it. He shouldn’t show weakness, but then he also shouldn’t be so distant that he can’t connect. He should only find his wife attractive so as not to be tempted to stray. Sounds a bit like Ward Cleaver to me, but this person would be interesting to hang out with for about a minute or so. Beyond that I think the nearness of so much perfection might scar me for life…
Life takes twists and turns that no one can anticipate. Having a set of morals to live by helps to navigate the rapids, but the reality is, NO one is so solid that their morals or values are the sole guiding star in their world. You MUST be flexible. Even the strongest steel will eventually bend in the wind.
So I guess the answer to my question is - a man is flexible. Tough where he needs to be, and tender on the other side of it. A font of knowledge while also being open to learning new things. The other examples above are a bit too rigid for me. Ultimately being a man is exactly the same as being a human being.
Wow, whoda thunk it…
If you ask a hundred people you’re going to get a hundred different answers. For years now I’ve been trying to define what being a man means to me without much success. There are so many different facets that make up the concept and reality of ‘being a man’.
• It can mean holding a job and paying bills on time
• It can mean being a provider for those you care about
• It can mean being a leader and visionary
• It can mean riding a megaton rocket into orbit and being a hero
• And it can mean holding on to your values in the face of incredible adversity.
But is it more? The stuff above isn’t really all that taxing if you think about it logically. Okay, it’s true that finding and maintaining a job isn’t as easy as it used to be. But the reality of the work world hasn’t changed significantly. You go to work, do what you have to and draw a paycheck. Unless your job involves disarming bombs on a daily basis, it’s probably pretty safe.
No, what I’m talking are the more esoteric things. What about the journey to find a place in the world? What about the search for happiness and fulfillment as a living, breathing human being?
There’s supposed to be more to life than just paying bills and raising children. My way of thinking has always focused on meeting the needs of those that I am responsible for. Parents, family, children, my wife. But is there supposed to be more?
Life can be busy. So busy, in fact, that the things that matter the most get lost in the shuffle. At some point it becomes paramount to stop yourself and take stock. Some of the greatest lessons we learn don’t come out of any classroom. They come from sitting quietly with ourselves and being brutally honest about how we feel.
It becomes a question of – are you making choices or are your choices making you? For a long time I never understood the difference. I assumed that I was making choices and my life was proceeding accordingly. As it turns out, that is far from true.
In the space between heartbeats there are millions of choices. Go left or go right? Get married or stay single? Kids or no kids? Eat healthy or pig out on the fast food? Pay the light bill or buy food?
A man is presented with choices every day and quite a few things depend on making the right ones. The health and welfare of his family come immediately to mind. Sometimes a bad choice isn’t a total disaster. There are a ton of things that you can screw up and get a do-over. But again there’s that nagging question – what is a man, really? How many screw ups do you get? Is there a limit on fallibility?
I know someone who believes that everyone should live a life of action as opposed to reaction. This person thinks that all problems in life could be solved if people simply acted quickly and decisively no matter the situation. No one I know acts this way, not even the person who made the statement. I don’t really even know what a person like that would be like. Even the strongest leaders need to think things through before crashing through walls.
I also know a person who thinks that a man is supposed to be the rock and anchor for his home. He is expected to be there for everyone in the family whenever they need him regardless of the situation. He’s should be full of wisdom and useful knowledge, but also be a disciplinarian when the occasion calls for it. He shouldn’t show weakness, but then he also shouldn’t be so distant that he can’t connect. He should only find his wife attractive so as not to be tempted to stray. Sounds a bit like Ward Cleaver to me, but this person would be interesting to hang out with for about a minute or so. Beyond that I think the nearness of so much perfection might scar me for life…
Life takes twists and turns that no one can anticipate. Having a set of morals to live by helps to navigate the rapids, but the reality is, NO one is so solid that their morals or values are the sole guiding star in their world. You MUST be flexible. Even the strongest steel will eventually bend in the wind.
So I guess the answer to my question is - a man is flexible. Tough where he needs to be, and tender on the other side of it. A font of knowledge while also being open to learning new things. The other examples above are a bit too rigid for me. Ultimately being a man is exactly the same as being a human being.
Wow, whoda thunk it…
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Figuring it all out
It’s been a long time since I posted to this.
Life takes twists and turns that would make the most hardcore rollercoaster rider sick in just a few seconds. My life is no different.
Since I left AT&T a year ago I have been trying with all my might to make my way in the world according to my own rules. This includes a career or business that I have deep passion for. Not just something that I take because it offers a steady paycheck.
For the first time in my life I felt a powerful need for something that was uniquely mine. A way for me to stand up and say that I’d created something that matters.
I’ve had enough examples of people who have made it doing their own thing. People in my personal life and those I’ve read about over the years who decided that the status quo wasn’t enough. It’s easy to go through life working for someone else. It’s less taxing to have others making the decision about what you are going to do every day and how much money they are going to pay you for it. There’s no real struggle in getting up in the morning and clocking in at the job 5 days a week and doing the bare minimum. But, what I wonder is, despite all of that, is there any true joy in conformity?
In my whole 44 years I have only met one man who claims to be completely happy with his job. He says that it gives him everything he could want. It is a job he’s been doing for probably more than 20 years and he sees no reason to look for another one. More power to him.
That’s one person out of several hundred. I've lost count of the blogs on the web by people who are dissatisfied with their jobs or career choices. One woman in particular started a blog that dealt with ways to leave the rat race and find a true calling. Her blog eventually led to a published book and a speaking tour that has made her life just what she wanted it to be. My hat is off to Pamela Slim and the Escape from Cubicle Nation podcast and blog. She was one of my inspirations to follow my dream.
It hasn’t been easy. And it’s far from being over.
I should have spent more time defining just what the goal was before I jumped. I knew that I wanted to work for myself and the clients I chose. I also knew that whatever I did, it would involve writing. I wasn’t completely locked on any one idea, I just wanted to be able to sit down at a keyboard and produce things that people would be able to use to sell their products or market their company. I also should have set an end time to put the dream aside if I realized that I wasn’t getting anywhere.
Within the last few months I’ve managed to make a bit of money that ties directly into the dream. But it’s not enough to live on yet. It’s not really even enough to brag about. But it is progress and gives me the encouragement I need to keep going. I won a contract with a company to produce sales pitches and I’m working with two other companies to develop web content and a business plan.
Momentum is a good thing, especially when it has to do with keeping a dream from turning into a class A nightmare. But I’ll say it again, this hasn’t been easy.
There have been a lot of sleepless nights and anxiety over my choices. A part of the anxiety rises from the fact that I am trying to follow my own path different from the one I was ‘told’ to follow. I’ve always been encouraged to get a good education and then find a company to stay with until I retire. Not once did the words ‘start your own business’ pass anyone’s lips. No one in my family owns their own business. It’s been a tradition for almost everyone to stay with one or two companies until retirement.
I’m trying to build a business so that I can be a model for my children to follow. I don’t really want them graduating from school and just looking for a job. I want them to build something of their own so that their children won’t have to struggle the way I have. Who knows, maybe three generations down the line we will have something that my grandparents dreamed of – a secure future.
I’m trying to build this business for myself as well. I don’t want to be lying on my deathbed with the only accomplishment I can show for my life being that I was on time for work every day, or winning employee of the month 20 years ago…
Another reason for my anxiety is that I chose to try business ownership in one of the worst economies of my life. The powers that be don’t want to use the D word, but I don’t mind calling a spade a spade. This is our (the 21st century version) of the great depression. It’s different from the one in the 30’s, but for all intents a purposes we are in a financial drought that is affecting the entire world.
Companies are laying people off in record numbers and tightening their belts. They really need the help of external contractors but most are so concerned with spending money that they would rather do without. This trend is probably going to continue for some time and since I am essentially a consultant, I have to make the best of the situation. There are people out there who have prospered during this period. I don’t feel that I am any less intelligent than they are. Perhaps I am a bit less skilled in bringing in new business, but that will change with time.
Dictating our path through life is the only real power that we have. You can’t control when you die. You can’t control your family. You can’t control your friends. You can’t control the weather. And you certainly can’t control the company you work for. The best you can do when you work for someone else is keep you head down and hope the axe misses your neck.
If I have to choose between the uncertainty of working for myself and the uncertainty of working for someone else, I’ll take the former every time.
Life takes twists and turns that would make the most hardcore rollercoaster rider sick in just a few seconds. My life is no different.
Since I left AT&T a year ago I have been trying with all my might to make my way in the world according to my own rules. This includes a career or business that I have deep passion for. Not just something that I take because it offers a steady paycheck.
For the first time in my life I felt a powerful need for something that was uniquely mine. A way for me to stand up and say that I’d created something that matters.
I’ve had enough examples of people who have made it doing their own thing. People in my personal life and those I’ve read about over the years who decided that the status quo wasn’t enough. It’s easy to go through life working for someone else. It’s less taxing to have others making the decision about what you are going to do every day and how much money they are going to pay you for it. There’s no real struggle in getting up in the morning and clocking in at the job 5 days a week and doing the bare minimum. But, what I wonder is, despite all of that, is there any true joy in conformity?
In my whole 44 years I have only met one man who claims to be completely happy with his job. He says that it gives him everything he could want. It is a job he’s been doing for probably more than 20 years and he sees no reason to look for another one. More power to him.
That’s one person out of several hundred. I've lost count of the blogs on the web by people who are dissatisfied with their jobs or career choices. One woman in particular started a blog that dealt with ways to leave the rat race and find a true calling. Her blog eventually led to a published book and a speaking tour that has made her life just what she wanted it to be. My hat is off to Pamela Slim and the Escape from Cubicle Nation podcast and blog. She was one of my inspirations to follow my dream.
It hasn’t been easy. And it’s far from being over.
I should have spent more time defining just what the goal was before I jumped. I knew that I wanted to work for myself and the clients I chose. I also knew that whatever I did, it would involve writing. I wasn’t completely locked on any one idea, I just wanted to be able to sit down at a keyboard and produce things that people would be able to use to sell their products or market their company. I also should have set an end time to put the dream aside if I realized that I wasn’t getting anywhere.
Within the last few months I’ve managed to make a bit of money that ties directly into the dream. But it’s not enough to live on yet. It’s not really even enough to brag about. But it is progress and gives me the encouragement I need to keep going. I won a contract with a company to produce sales pitches and I’m working with two other companies to develop web content and a business plan.
Momentum is a good thing, especially when it has to do with keeping a dream from turning into a class A nightmare. But I’ll say it again, this hasn’t been easy.
There have been a lot of sleepless nights and anxiety over my choices. A part of the anxiety rises from the fact that I am trying to follow my own path different from the one I was ‘told’ to follow. I’ve always been encouraged to get a good education and then find a company to stay with until I retire. Not once did the words ‘start your own business’ pass anyone’s lips. No one in my family owns their own business. It’s been a tradition for almost everyone to stay with one or two companies until retirement.
I’m trying to build a business so that I can be a model for my children to follow. I don’t really want them graduating from school and just looking for a job. I want them to build something of their own so that their children won’t have to struggle the way I have. Who knows, maybe three generations down the line we will have something that my grandparents dreamed of – a secure future.
I’m trying to build this business for myself as well. I don’t want to be lying on my deathbed with the only accomplishment I can show for my life being that I was on time for work every day, or winning employee of the month 20 years ago…
Another reason for my anxiety is that I chose to try business ownership in one of the worst economies of my life. The powers that be don’t want to use the D word, but I don’t mind calling a spade a spade. This is our (the 21st century version) of the great depression. It’s different from the one in the 30’s, but for all intents a purposes we are in a financial drought that is affecting the entire world.
Companies are laying people off in record numbers and tightening their belts. They really need the help of external contractors but most are so concerned with spending money that they would rather do without. This trend is probably going to continue for some time and since I am essentially a consultant, I have to make the best of the situation. There are people out there who have prospered during this period. I don’t feel that I am any less intelligent than they are. Perhaps I am a bit less skilled in bringing in new business, but that will change with time.
Dictating our path through life is the only real power that we have. You can’t control when you die. You can’t control your family. You can’t control your friends. You can’t control the weather. And you certainly can’t control the company you work for. The best you can do when you work for someone else is keep you head down and hope the axe misses your neck.
If I have to choose between the uncertainty of working for myself and the uncertainty of working for someone else, I’ll take the former every time.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
That wonderfully artificial construct known as time…
Let me say this first, I don’t consider time to be all that important. What I mean is that from my own personal vantage point, when someone needs me, I am there. I don’t put limits on the hour of the day or the weather. The people I know don’t ask things of me lightly. Usually, if someone needs me for something it’s a task they can’t achieve on their own.
Sleep has always been kind of an enemy of mine. I regularly average about 5 hours per night. This isn’t new; I’ve been less than a fan of sleep since I was 10 or so. Joining the Army only drove that aspect deeper into me. There were frequent 48 to 50 hour marathons of work. You would snatch sleep where you could and got used to resting in the oddest places.
Unfortunately this has caused me not to understand or appreciate how some people need 8 to 10 hours of sleep a day. I have a former neighbor who pretty much spends his entire weekend sleeping or taking constant naps. For him this is a good thing and the way he wants to live his life. More power to him I say. But it’s an alien concept to me.
The problem with all this usually happens when I need something from my wife at 2AM. She is a sleeper. One of those people who can fall asleep in 3.2 seconds. I’ve always been amazed at how she can be talking one moment and softly snoring before completely getting out the last of her sentence. How is this a problem you ask?
Well, there isn’t a common middle ground about time. I think nothing of being awake and working until the wee hours of the morning. If she makes it past midnight it’s usually cause for celebration. I know that our bodies are different and I’ve grown used to not sleeping all the time, but I am really beginning to wonder just how deep that difference goes.
Sleeping is a form of death to me. A period of time that I just exist and am not in some sort of control. Just like time, which I consider an artificial thing that humans created to keep track of their lives. I’ve been in situations where I’ve lived on a schedule that is closer to the way that the world actually works. You wake when it’s time to wake, not to some fucking alarm clock. Your body gets the rest it needs according to its own internal clock. To me that’s more natural, but the problem is, the working world survives on an artificial schedule that no one even knows who created.
You have to wake up two to three hours earlier than normal in order to ‘get ready’ or ‘beat the traffic’. And for some reason those of us who manage to find ways to make money with methods that don’t require a 9 to 5 schedule are looked at like some kind of aliens. If we don’t work for a company or deal with rush hour traffic then there is something wrong. We aren’t living ‘the American dream’. It’s pathetic. I really can’t imagine anything more American than making your way under your own steam. Its how this country was built.
I know three music stars, multiple writers, some website designers and one photographer who are making money hand over fist without the normal 9 to 5 grind. Their schedules are their own. They work quite a bit harder than the average person who puts in 8 hours at the office, but they are still viewed at as if they are slacking in some way. It’s all a bit sad.
And then there is the impact that artificial time schedules have on children. Studies have shown over and over again that when children pigeonholed into the same social standards without thought for that child’s individual gifts, the child suffers. Creativity is reduced, original thought is stifled and long term growth is sacrificed for conformity. Now magnify shoving children into that mold over the course of a lifetime and what do you get?
I won’t answer that. There are people out their light years smarter than me who have it all figured out.
Anyway, time for me is something that happens at its own pace. I try not to put limits on things because I am not in control of anything outside of my immediate environment. (It’s a work in progress and I am not always able to maintain my focus or my composure) If my wife, family member or good friend needs me at 3AM I am not going to quibble because it’s dark outside. I am also trying my hardest not to stick my kids into any one version of how they should spend their time. There are structured moments and there are moments that just exist. My greatest hope is that they turn out to be adults who know when to worry about time and when not to.
In other words, not slaves to a damned time clock. Wish me luck…
Peace.
Sleep has always been kind of an enemy of mine. I regularly average about 5 hours per night. This isn’t new; I’ve been less than a fan of sleep since I was 10 or so. Joining the Army only drove that aspect deeper into me. There were frequent 48 to 50 hour marathons of work. You would snatch sleep where you could and got used to resting in the oddest places.
Unfortunately this has caused me not to understand or appreciate how some people need 8 to 10 hours of sleep a day. I have a former neighbor who pretty much spends his entire weekend sleeping or taking constant naps. For him this is a good thing and the way he wants to live his life. More power to him I say. But it’s an alien concept to me.
The problem with all this usually happens when I need something from my wife at 2AM. She is a sleeper. One of those people who can fall asleep in 3.2 seconds. I’ve always been amazed at how she can be talking one moment and softly snoring before completely getting out the last of her sentence. How is this a problem you ask?
Well, there isn’t a common middle ground about time. I think nothing of being awake and working until the wee hours of the morning. If she makes it past midnight it’s usually cause for celebration. I know that our bodies are different and I’ve grown used to not sleeping all the time, but I am really beginning to wonder just how deep that difference goes.
Sleeping is a form of death to me. A period of time that I just exist and am not in some sort of control. Just like time, which I consider an artificial thing that humans created to keep track of their lives. I’ve been in situations where I’ve lived on a schedule that is closer to the way that the world actually works. You wake when it’s time to wake, not to some fucking alarm clock. Your body gets the rest it needs according to its own internal clock. To me that’s more natural, but the problem is, the working world survives on an artificial schedule that no one even knows who created.
You have to wake up two to three hours earlier than normal in order to ‘get ready’ or ‘beat the traffic’. And for some reason those of us who manage to find ways to make money with methods that don’t require a 9 to 5 schedule are looked at like some kind of aliens. If we don’t work for a company or deal with rush hour traffic then there is something wrong. We aren’t living ‘the American dream’. It’s pathetic. I really can’t imagine anything more American than making your way under your own steam. Its how this country was built.
I know three music stars, multiple writers, some website designers and one photographer who are making money hand over fist without the normal 9 to 5 grind. Their schedules are their own. They work quite a bit harder than the average person who puts in 8 hours at the office, but they are still viewed at as if they are slacking in some way. It’s all a bit sad.
And then there is the impact that artificial time schedules have on children. Studies have shown over and over again that when children pigeonholed into the same social standards without thought for that child’s individual gifts, the child suffers. Creativity is reduced, original thought is stifled and long term growth is sacrificed for conformity. Now magnify shoving children into that mold over the course of a lifetime and what do you get?
I won’t answer that. There are people out their light years smarter than me who have it all figured out.
Anyway, time for me is something that happens at its own pace. I try not to put limits on things because I am not in control of anything outside of my immediate environment. (It’s a work in progress and I am not always able to maintain my focus or my composure) If my wife, family member or good friend needs me at 3AM I am not going to quibble because it’s dark outside. I am also trying my hardest not to stick my kids into any one version of how they should spend their time. There are structured moments and there are moments that just exist. My greatest hope is that they turn out to be adults who know when to worry about time and when not to.
In other words, not slaves to a damned time clock. Wish me luck…
Peace.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Growing pains
Watching my 16 year old go through the dance of life has been an enlightening experience.
Since I passed that stage so long ago it’s been relegated to the dim parts of my memory and the feelings that I had are largely forgotten. The only thing I remember clearly was having a lot more freedom than my sisters. I did have a serious girlfriend who eventually became my wife and the mother of my oldest son. Serious as in she was my first sexual experience. Serious as in we stayed together through high school and my first year in Germany until I returned to the states and we were married.
She played her games while I was gone and I played mine, but when it came time to be serious, she was the one who actually pushed the issue of marriage. I was perfectly willing to wait, but I think she was in a hurry to get on with her life.
Anyway, I am getting away from my point.
My second son is 16. He is experiencing the push for independence in a way that I wish I’d done.
Let me see if I can make this clear. By the time I was his age I’d already been having sex for about 8 months. I’d joined the army on the delayed enlistment program during the summer of 1982. I’d been ready to be an adult for quite some time, taking courses that weren’t typical for high school students. Things like how to manage money, how to buy a house, how to buy stocks and other things. I was ready to be an adult.
Or so I thought…
I won’t get into the mess I made of things. The people who know me best are aware of the fucked up choices I made.
But my son, who is the focus of this post, is ready to make the same jump. He is convinced that he can take care of himself. Now don’t misunderstand me, he knows that a job at Publix isn’t going to pay any major bills. He also knows that getting his ‘girlfriend’ pregnant would be tantamount to an Irwin Allen disaster film. But he is chomping at the bit to get on with his life. He wants to make his own rules. He wants to be able to drive himself to school, and to the movies. He wants to be able to get up in the morning to his own schedule and get ready the way he feels suits who he is.
I understand him. I also know that there is a lot he doesn’t know. It makes me wonder about myself as a parent and human being. Since I had a lot of the same desire to write my own destiny I can appreciate his impatience. My problem was, I was never as sure of myself as he seems to be. He knows that he is not perfect. He also knows that no one else will dictate his success or failure. In that vein he is light years ahead of where I was at his age. He is aware of the fact that in order to grow he has to ‘do him’ and not really allow anyone else into the decision making process that will move him away from that.
I find myself envying him. I wonder where I would be right now if I’d been as self aware as he is.
I’ve spent my life putting other people first. It was a choice and I am not really upset by it, but it doesn’t keep me from being aware that there were options that I missed.
My children are the primary reason for my continuing struggle to be a good dad and writer. I figure that if I am able to create the career I truly want then I can help them realize that there is much more to life than just graduating from school and going to work for someone else.
My second son, all of 16 and ½ is a constant reminder of the fact that no matter how bad I screw up, they will grow into the people they were meant to be. I know that I have some impact on how they turn out, but for the most part their adult lives will be whatever they choose. Just as my mother only had a minimal impact on my adult life. I can guide them only so far. The human imperative is to attempt to live life on your own terms. If you never stray from who you were when your parents were controlling your every move have you truly lived?
It’s just interesting to me when I look at how much of a difference there is between my 16 year old and me. And it’s even more interesting when I look at how similar we are…
Peace
Since I passed that stage so long ago it’s been relegated to the dim parts of my memory and the feelings that I had are largely forgotten. The only thing I remember clearly was having a lot more freedom than my sisters. I did have a serious girlfriend who eventually became my wife and the mother of my oldest son. Serious as in she was my first sexual experience. Serious as in we stayed together through high school and my first year in Germany until I returned to the states and we were married.
She played her games while I was gone and I played mine, but when it came time to be serious, she was the one who actually pushed the issue of marriage. I was perfectly willing to wait, but I think she was in a hurry to get on with her life.
Anyway, I am getting away from my point.
My second son is 16. He is experiencing the push for independence in a way that I wish I’d done.
Let me see if I can make this clear. By the time I was his age I’d already been having sex for about 8 months. I’d joined the army on the delayed enlistment program during the summer of 1982. I’d been ready to be an adult for quite some time, taking courses that weren’t typical for high school students. Things like how to manage money, how to buy a house, how to buy stocks and other things. I was ready to be an adult.
Or so I thought…
I won’t get into the mess I made of things. The people who know me best are aware of the fucked up choices I made.
But my son, who is the focus of this post, is ready to make the same jump. He is convinced that he can take care of himself. Now don’t misunderstand me, he knows that a job at Publix isn’t going to pay any major bills. He also knows that getting his ‘girlfriend’ pregnant would be tantamount to an Irwin Allen disaster film. But he is chomping at the bit to get on with his life. He wants to make his own rules. He wants to be able to drive himself to school, and to the movies. He wants to be able to get up in the morning to his own schedule and get ready the way he feels suits who he is.
I understand him. I also know that there is a lot he doesn’t know. It makes me wonder about myself as a parent and human being. Since I had a lot of the same desire to write my own destiny I can appreciate his impatience. My problem was, I was never as sure of myself as he seems to be. He knows that he is not perfect. He also knows that no one else will dictate his success or failure. In that vein he is light years ahead of where I was at his age. He is aware of the fact that in order to grow he has to ‘do him’ and not really allow anyone else into the decision making process that will move him away from that.
I find myself envying him. I wonder where I would be right now if I’d been as self aware as he is.
I’ve spent my life putting other people first. It was a choice and I am not really upset by it, but it doesn’t keep me from being aware that there were options that I missed.
My children are the primary reason for my continuing struggle to be a good dad and writer. I figure that if I am able to create the career I truly want then I can help them realize that there is much more to life than just graduating from school and going to work for someone else.
My second son, all of 16 and ½ is a constant reminder of the fact that no matter how bad I screw up, they will grow into the people they were meant to be. I know that I have some impact on how they turn out, but for the most part their adult lives will be whatever they choose. Just as my mother only had a minimal impact on my adult life. I can guide them only so far. The human imperative is to attempt to live life on your own terms. If you never stray from who you were when your parents were controlling your every move have you truly lived?
It’s just interesting to me when I look at how much of a difference there is between my 16 year old and me. And it’s even more interesting when I look at how similar we are…
Peace
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Fractured
I’m sure that no one will be surprised when I say there are things about who I am that I have never shared with anyone else. Nor will I ever share them. Some are embarrassing. Some are stupid and some are completely out there.
Not that I’m a closet serial killer or anything crazy. I just know that deep inside of me are things that the people I know wouldn’t accept. My friends and family are very practical people. They base their entire lives on the world around them. Cars, home, friends, jobs, bills, etc. There isn’t any room for things that don’t immediately lead to money or status.
I’ve always been a dreamer. Connected to the world only by the most tenuous of threads. Anchored here by my choices, like everyone else, but not really fitting into a convenient mold.
Black dreamers are shunned. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.
Every time I’ve tried to mire myself in the mendacity of life it never works. I end up severely depressed and out of sorts. Usually it takes a trip to the ocean to cure this. Or cooking for a lot of people. Cooking always seems to help moderate my mental status.
But I’ve noticed one thing that has become a real problem.
Since I have to live in the world in order to support myself and my family, I have to suppress the parts of me that want to dream. Dreaming isn’t logical when the mortgage is due. I also have to block the childish part that ‘wants what it wants right now…dammit’! This part is responsible for a lot of my sex drive, but that obviously has to be controlled since I am trying to build businesses in both the profit and non-profit world.
Although, I do sometimes wonder if a blast of sexual energy could be beneficial in business meetings. People tend to gravitate towards people that are attractive. Human beings have build millions of businesses out of the same energy that drives sexuality and desire for fulfillment.
The problem with all this fracturing is I will tend to live my life in chunks separated by what I am doing at that moment. Instead of being a whole person all the time, I will be one way with business partners, one way with my family, and yet another way with friends and acquaintances. Given enough time I won’t know who the fuck I am anymore. Am I the businessman? Am I the father? Am I the husband, the son, the brother, the friend? A combination of all of them? At which point do I switch it all off and just be me? And since I brought that up, what exactly does ‘me’ mean? I have a friend who swears that the part that thinks it is ‘me’ is my ego and it’s trying to kill anything good that might happen just so it can stay alive in its status quo. He says that each time I fail at something it’s because my ego sensed its own impending death and found a way to talk me out of the change.
I wonder if this is why so many people seem two-faced or wishy-washy. They have spent so long developing different personalities for different occasions (protecting their ego) that they have completely forgotten who they truly are. They bury parts of themselves so deep that it’s impossible to remember anything of value about their inner being. No wonder so many humans are borderline schizophrenic.
The Wikipedia entry defines it this way –
Schizophrenia (pronounced /ˌskɪtsəˈfrɛniə/ or pronounced /ˌskɪtsəˈfriːniə/), from the Greek roots skhizein (σχίζειν, "to split") and phrēn, phren- (φρήν, φρεν-, "mind") is a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a mental disorder characterized by abnormalities in the perception or expression of reality. It most commonly manifests as auditory hallucinations, paranoid or bizarre delusions, or disorganized speech and thinking with significant social or occupational dysfunction. Onset of symptoms typically occurs in young adulthood,[1] with approximately 0.4–0.6%[2][3] of the population affected. Diagnosis is based on the patient's self-reported experiences and observed behavior.
The article goes on to say this –
The disorder is thought to mainly affect cognition, but it also usually contributes to chronic problems with behavior and emotion. People with schizophrenia are likely to have additional (comorbid) conditions, including major depression and anxiety disorders;[7] the lifetime occurrence of substance abuse is around 40%. Social problems, such as long-term unemployment, poverty and homelessness, are common. Furthermore, the average life expectancy of people with the disorder is 10 to 12 years less than those without, due to increased physical health problems and a higher suicide rate
Hell, the whole article is worth reading –
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizophrenia
So add to that stew our desire to fit in with society, sometimes at all costs. I am no different than anyone else. I want to be loved and needed. I want to feel valued and know that my contributions matter. I know that I have done things that go against who I am in order to fit in.
That’s not even news. What is fascinating is the effect that long term exposure to that kind of thinking has done to my life. It’s hard to feel like I am in charge when I’ve fractured myself to fit the situation so much.
It’s only now, at 43, that I realize I can’t live this way anymore. Falling into someone else’s orbit isn’t acceptable because I realize I will never be the writer I want to be unless I change.
That’s why I picked honesty and focus for this year. I would have failed miserably if I’d just made some stupid resolution to lose weight or something. That shit never works. But this..
This is working very well.
Peace.
Not that I’m a closet serial killer or anything crazy. I just know that deep inside of me are things that the people I know wouldn’t accept. My friends and family are very practical people. They base their entire lives on the world around them. Cars, home, friends, jobs, bills, etc. There isn’t any room for things that don’t immediately lead to money or status.
I’ve always been a dreamer. Connected to the world only by the most tenuous of threads. Anchored here by my choices, like everyone else, but not really fitting into a convenient mold.
Black dreamers are shunned. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.
Every time I’ve tried to mire myself in the mendacity of life it never works. I end up severely depressed and out of sorts. Usually it takes a trip to the ocean to cure this. Or cooking for a lot of people. Cooking always seems to help moderate my mental status.
But I’ve noticed one thing that has become a real problem.
Since I have to live in the world in order to support myself and my family, I have to suppress the parts of me that want to dream. Dreaming isn’t logical when the mortgage is due. I also have to block the childish part that ‘wants what it wants right now…dammit’! This part is responsible for a lot of my sex drive, but that obviously has to be controlled since I am trying to build businesses in both the profit and non-profit world.
Although, I do sometimes wonder if a blast of sexual energy could be beneficial in business meetings. People tend to gravitate towards people that are attractive. Human beings have build millions of businesses out of the same energy that drives sexuality and desire for fulfillment.
The problem with all this fracturing is I will tend to live my life in chunks separated by what I am doing at that moment. Instead of being a whole person all the time, I will be one way with business partners, one way with my family, and yet another way with friends and acquaintances. Given enough time I won’t know who the fuck I am anymore. Am I the businessman? Am I the father? Am I the husband, the son, the brother, the friend? A combination of all of them? At which point do I switch it all off and just be me? And since I brought that up, what exactly does ‘me’ mean? I have a friend who swears that the part that thinks it is ‘me’ is my ego and it’s trying to kill anything good that might happen just so it can stay alive in its status quo. He says that each time I fail at something it’s because my ego sensed its own impending death and found a way to talk me out of the change.
I wonder if this is why so many people seem two-faced or wishy-washy. They have spent so long developing different personalities for different occasions (protecting their ego) that they have completely forgotten who they truly are. They bury parts of themselves so deep that it’s impossible to remember anything of value about their inner being. No wonder so many humans are borderline schizophrenic.
The Wikipedia entry defines it this way –
Schizophrenia (pronounced /ˌskɪtsəˈfrɛniə/ or pronounced /ˌskɪtsəˈfriːniə/), from the Greek roots skhizein (σχίζειν, "to split") and phrēn, phren- (φρήν, φρεν-, "mind") is a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a mental disorder characterized by abnormalities in the perception or expression of reality. It most commonly manifests as auditory hallucinations, paranoid or bizarre delusions, or disorganized speech and thinking with significant social or occupational dysfunction. Onset of symptoms typically occurs in young adulthood,[1] with approximately 0.4–0.6%[2][3] of the population affected. Diagnosis is based on the patient's self-reported experiences and observed behavior.
The article goes on to say this –
The disorder is thought to mainly affect cognition, but it also usually contributes to chronic problems with behavior and emotion. People with schizophrenia are likely to have additional (comorbid) conditions, including major depression and anxiety disorders;[7] the lifetime occurrence of substance abuse is around 40%. Social problems, such as long-term unemployment, poverty and homelessness, are common. Furthermore, the average life expectancy of people with the disorder is 10 to 12 years less than those without, due to increased physical health problems and a higher suicide rate
Hell, the whole article is worth reading –
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizophrenia
So add to that stew our desire to fit in with society, sometimes at all costs. I am no different than anyone else. I want to be loved and needed. I want to feel valued and know that my contributions matter. I know that I have done things that go against who I am in order to fit in.
That’s not even news. What is fascinating is the effect that long term exposure to that kind of thinking has done to my life. It’s hard to feel like I am in charge when I’ve fractured myself to fit the situation so much.
It’s only now, at 43, that I realize I can’t live this way anymore. Falling into someone else’s orbit isn’t acceptable because I realize I will never be the writer I want to be unless I change.
That’s why I picked honesty and focus for this year. I would have failed miserably if I’d just made some stupid resolution to lose weight or something. That shit never works. But this..
This is working very well.
Peace.
Escaping childhood
Or can you?
If I do an honest assessment of who I am now I am convinced that I have only moved fractionally away from the person I was as a child.
As a child I –
· Loved science and science fiction (movies, TV shows, novels, short stories, it didn’t matter so long as there was a spaceship or an alien)
· Thought horror movies were the coolest thing ever
· Love to try to write stories to entertain myself
· Loved to spend time by myself in the woods or on the beach
· Avoided large crowds of people or enclosed spaces
· Felt that most people could be trusted – to a point
· Worried that I didn’t fit in with my family or friends
· Worried about the future and what kind of life I would have as a poor child from the projects
· Wondered if I would ever meet someone who loved me for who I really was
· Was terrified of the alcoholic dentist that we went to
· Loved the old radio serials from the 40’s and 50’s
· Truly believed that Humphrey Bogart was the best actor of all time
· Never noticed that there weren’t any black people in the old Saturday morning scifi movies that I loved so much (and didn’t really care)
And things haven’t really changed all that much since I’ve become an ‘adult’ –
· Love science and science fiction (movies, TV shows, novels, short stories, it doesn’t matter so long as there was a spaceship or an alien, but my tastes have changed a bit to be more sophisticated)
· Think horror movies have largely given way to loads of fake blood being thrown all over the set instead of inspiring true fear
· Still love to try to write stories to entertain myself (but all of a sudden it isn’t as much fun as it used to be)
· Love to spend time by myself in the woods or on the beach (just have to plan ahead now)
· Avoided large crowds of people or enclosed spaces (this hasn’t changed at all)
· Feel that most people can be trusted – to a point
· Still don’t fit in with my family or friends (especially since I stopped drinking)
· Worried about the future and what kind of life I would have as a man who is determined to find his own way
· Know that it’s possible to meet someone who loves me for me, but now I wonder how much of myself it’s safe to share
· Still isn’t all that fond of dentist or the dentistry profession
· Still loves the old radio serials from the 40’s and 50’s (just listen to them on my iPod now)
· Truly believed that Humphrey Bogart was the best actor of all time (Yep!)
· Never noticed that there weren’t any black people in the old Saturday morning scifi movies that I loved so much (and didn’t really care)(but now I am aware and pissed off for the fact that it has ruined the nostalgic feeling of watching the movies. I can’t just enjoy them for their own merits, everything is about whether there are black people in it…)
On the whole the only thing that really ‘changed’ was that I discovered sex. And I’ll be honest, I don’t know how much of a benefit that was. Sex is cool and all, but I apparently don’t know the difference between what’s supposed to be ‘normal’ and what is supposed to be ‘extreme’ or ‘too much’. But that topic is for another blog entry.
Right now I want to further examine the aspect of my seeming lack of change from then to now. I consider my childhood up to the point that we moved to California and I met the first girl I had sex with. I was 15. It totally stopped every other thought running through my head and as far as I’m concerned it started the path to adulthood that I am still on.
I choose this point because it was a major crossroads in creating ‘me’. Up to that point all I cared about was hanging out with my friends, playing D&D, riding my bike and otherwise being left alone. After that first time, lots of things that used to matter stopped being important.
I began planning for the future. I began to realize that life would change drastically, especially after I graduated. I can’t be sure, but I think that was the thought process that made me sign up for the military at 16 and then leave home before my 18th birthday. But through it all, I never really ‘changed’. My focus was different since I was no longer a child with child wants and needs. Who I was inside didn’t shift at all.
It wasn’t really until recently that I’ve begun to feel the pull of mortality. Having the first job that I’d ever had where injuries were common sort of woke me up to the vulnerability of my body. Having a job where mental abuse was common woke me up to the vulnerability of my mind and spirit. And then there was the damned foreclosure…
Despite all that, I still feel the same inside. I still like everything that’s on the list above. I still feel the same dislikes and have the same fears. That’s what got me to wondering if people ever really change.
Yes they get older and their tastes alter. Tastes in clothes, friends, foods, sexual habits, etc. But they don’t really ‘change’. There are people I’ve known my entire 43 years who are, at their core, the same person they were when we were kids together in Utica.
A lot of my current friends are the same people they were when I met them 5, 10 or 20 years ago. They still eat, drink, hang out, smoke weed, fuck, get screwed and communicate the same way they did when I met them. Sometimes they have to modify their diet due to some new ailment or fad diet, but that’s not a true change.
In my time I’ve never met anyone who has done a complete 180 paradigm shift from who they are. No one had gone from being an alcoholic to being a sober priest. No one has left the projects and become a multi millionaire business owner.
And the evidence is all over the news and media outlets. Even people who become huge music or movie stars aren’t able to leave who they are behind them. For reference think about people like Mike Vick, Kurt Cobain, hip-hop singer Chris Brown, Tupac, Notorious BIG, rapper T.I., Michael Jackson, O.J. Simpson, Britney Spears, Miley Cyrus, and the list goes on and on.
These are people at the top of their game. They have money flowing out of every orifice and yet they still end up in trouble or in jail, or dead. They have thousands of adoring fans and the world at their fingertips. But they cannot let go of who they are inside. Makes me wonder just how far they are from who they were as kids.
Your childhood shapes you. I know a man who is a professional writer. He is good at what he does and he loves the life he’s built for himself. But he’s told me stories of being beat up by bullies at his school. Those events led him to martial arts. He still practices martial arts to this day. And that’s what I mean by events shape who you are. If he hadn’t been bullied would he have gone into martial arts? Would the same need that drove him have even existed? And was the need based on fear of being beat up again, maybe even as an adult? So from this arc of being a scared kid to adult, not much has changed. The feelings of back then forced an alteration, but didn’t change the base reality. He now knows how to take care of himself, but he’s admitted that the fear of being hit or injured is still there. He doesn’t care for sparring for that very reason.
Maybe I’m off on this one a bit, but I don’t think so.
If I do an honest assessment of who I am now I am convinced that I have only moved fractionally away from the person I was as a child.
As a child I –
· Loved science and science fiction (movies, TV shows, novels, short stories, it didn’t matter so long as there was a spaceship or an alien)
· Thought horror movies were the coolest thing ever
· Love to try to write stories to entertain myself
· Loved to spend time by myself in the woods or on the beach
· Avoided large crowds of people or enclosed spaces
· Felt that most people could be trusted – to a point
· Worried that I didn’t fit in with my family or friends
· Worried about the future and what kind of life I would have as a poor child from the projects
· Wondered if I would ever meet someone who loved me for who I really was
· Was terrified of the alcoholic dentist that we went to
· Loved the old radio serials from the 40’s and 50’s
· Truly believed that Humphrey Bogart was the best actor of all time
· Never noticed that there weren’t any black people in the old Saturday morning scifi movies that I loved so much (and didn’t really care)
And things haven’t really changed all that much since I’ve become an ‘adult’ –
· Love science and science fiction (movies, TV shows, novels, short stories, it doesn’t matter so long as there was a spaceship or an alien, but my tastes have changed a bit to be more sophisticated)
· Think horror movies have largely given way to loads of fake blood being thrown all over the set instead of inspiring true fear
· Still love to try to write stories to entertain myself (but all of a sudden it isn’t as much fun as it used to be)
· Love to spend time by myself in the woods or on the beach (just have to plan ahead now)
· Avoided large crowds of people or enclosed spaces (this hasn’t changed at all)
· Feel that most people can be trusted – to a point
· Still don’t fit in with my family or friends (especially since I stopped drinking)
· Worried about the future and what kind of life I would have as a man who is determined to find his own way
· Know that it’s possible to meet someone who loves me for me, but now I wonder how much of myself it’s safe to share
· Still isn’t all that fond of dentist or the dentistry profession
· Still loves the old radio serials from the 40’s and 50’s (just listen to them on my iPod now)
· Truly believed that Humphrey Bogart was the best actor of all time (Yep!)
· Never noticed that there weren’t any black people in the old Saturday morning scifi movies that I loved so much (and didn’t really care)(but now I am aware and pissed off for the fact that it has ruined the nostalgic feeling of watching the movies. I can’t just enjoy them for their own merits, everything is about whether there are black people in it…)
On the whole the only thing that really ‘changed’ was that I discovered sex. And I’ll be honest, I don’t know how much of a benefit that was. Sex is cool and all, but I apparently don’t know the difference between what’s supposed to be ‘normal’ and what is supposed to be ‘extreme’ or ‘too much’. But that topic is for another blog entry.
Right now I want to further examine the aspect of my seeming lack of change from then to now. I consider my childhood up to the point that we moved to California and I met the first girl I had sex with. I was 15. It totally stopped every other thought running through my head and as far as I’m concerned it started the path to adulthood that I am still on.
I choose this point because it was a major crossroads in creating ‘me’. Up to that point all I cared about was hanging out with my friends, playing D&D, riding my bike and otherwise being left alone. After that first time, lots of things that used to matter stopped being important.
I began planning for the future. I began to realize that life would change drastically, especially after I graduated. I can’t be sure, but I think that was the thought process that made me sign up for the military at 16 and then leave home before my 18th birthday. But through it all, I never really ‘changed’. My focus was different since I was no longer a child with child wants and needs. Who I was inside didn’t shift at all.
It wasn’t really until recently that I’ve begun to feel the pull of mortality. Having the first job that I’d ever had where injuries were common sort of woke me up to the vulnerability of my body. Having a job where mental abuse was common woke me up to the vulnerability of my mind and spirit. And then there was the damned foreclosure…
Despite all that, I still feel the same inside. I still like everything that’s on the list above. I still feel the same dislikes and have the same fears. That’s what got me to wondering if people ever really change.
Yes they get older and their tastes alter. Tastes in clothes, friends, foods, sexual habits, etc. But they don’t really ‘change’. There are people I’ve known my entire 43 years who are, at their core, the same person they were when we were kids together in Utica.
A lot of my current friends are the same people they were when I met them 5, 10 or 20 years ago. They still eat, drink, hang out, smoke weed, fuck, get screwed and communicate the same way they did when I met them. Sometimes they have to modify their diet due to some new ailment or fad diet, but that’s not a true change.
In my time I’ve never met anyone who has done a complete 180 paradigm shift from who they are. No one had gone from being an alcoholic to being a sober priest. No one has left the projects and become a multi millionaire business owner.
And the evidence is all over the news and media outlets. Even people who become huge music or movie stars aren’t able to leave who they are behind them. For reference think about people like Mike Vick, Kurt Cobain, hip-hop singer Chris Brown, Tupac, Notorious BIG, rapper T.I., Michael Jackson, O.J. Simpson, Britney Spears, Miley Cyrus, and the list goes on and on.
These are people at the top of their game. They have money flowing out of every orifice and yet they still end up in trouble or in jail, or dead. They have thousands of adoring fans and the world at their fingertips. But they cannot let go of who they are inside. Makes me wonder just how far they are from who they were as kids.
Your childhood shapes you. I know a man who is a professional writer. He is good at what he does and he loves the life he’s built for himself. But he’s told me stories of being beat up by bullies at his school. Those events led him to martial arts. He still practices martial arts to this day. And that’s what I mean by events shape who you are. If he hadn’t been bullied would he have gone into martial arts? Would the same need that drove him have even existed? And was the need based on fear of being beat up again, maybe even as an adult? So from this arc of being a scared kid to adult, not much has changed. The feelings of back then forced an alteration, but didn’t change the base reality. He now knows how to take care of himself, but he’s admitted that the fear of being hit or injured is still there. He doesn’t care for sparring for that very reason.
Maybe I’m off on this one a bit, but I don’t think so.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Life after foreclosure
To those of you still mired in the foreclosure monster of doom, let me give you a word of encouragement from the far side of the tunnel.
The world doesn’t stop spinning because you lose your house.
I know that sounds a bit blunt, but I have to be honest. I went through the whole gamut of emotions that result when you realize that nothing you do will save the place that you are living and most likely consider home. From denial to anger to acceptance, I didn’t skip a single phase. I laughed, I cried, I screamed at the universe about how unfair it all was. I even questioned the sanity of homeownership as an institution. With this many people losing their homes, isn’t it kind of odd that the ultimate expression of ‘making it in America’ has always been purchasing a home?
The oddest aspect of the whole affair was how I was treated by people with whom I shared the truth. I had people who say they care about me shrug and walk away. I also had some wonderfully upbeat people enter my life. My wife and I sweated out many sleepless nights and the stress level became totally unbearable for a while. My average night’s sleep has been between 3.5 to 5 hours per night.
Sometimes a lot less.
I discovered something wonderful though. After calling everyone I could call. After reams of paperwork and loan modifications and strained phone conversations with strangers in different states – when everything seemed at its darkest ebb, I realized that we weren’t our home.
If you remain in one place long enough it becomes an extension of who you are. There’s nothing unusual about this. It extends to all areas of your life. Remember the phrase ‘You are what you eat’? -it’s the same thing with other aspects of life. Humans get used to all kinds of circumstances, situations and collusions. As a species we identify with the people and things that fill our lives. So it’s not a stretch to understand why so many people go through incredible pain and tribulation when it comes time to get a car or home repossessed. As a former tow truck driver I’ve seen firsthand how people act when you try to take things that they consider theirs. These events are often ugly, violent, and extremely human.
But what had to happen in order to keep my sanity and my family together was to realize and act on the fact that even though we loved our little house – ultimately, it’s just a house. A building with walls and windows. A hole in the ground that we throw our money into.
Our HOME is me, my wife, and our children. It also is made up of our true friends, close family and the interactions that make it all work. Our HOME is made of the time we spend together doing things that family does – living, loving, arguing, laughing, crying and growing together.
Should you find yourself in the unfortunate place remember something - you are a happy, loving individual. Probably with a family and friends who care a great deal about you. You probably have co-workers, church brothers and sisters, a mailman and the local 7/11 worker who care about you. (Even the guy or girl in the 7/11 cares more than your mortgage company - trust me). You are not a number on a balance sheet. You are not a statistic to be casually tossed around by some idiot on wall street or in Washington who’s trying to make a point. You won’t die and if you don’t give up and fold over you won’t even be homeless.
Remember to breathe.
And think! Never forget that you are able to work through any adversity so long as you don’t allow your mind to shut down. It’s true that you will lose your bearings from time to time. You will be afraid. You will be angry. Accept them for what they are, emotions responding to a stimulus, and then keep it moving.
You will be okay, trust and believe it.
Peace.
The world doesn’t stop spinning because you lose your house.
I know that sounds a bit blunt, but I have to be honest. I went through the whole gamut of emotions that result when you realize that nothing you do will save the place that you are living and most likely consider home. From denial to anger to acceptance, I didn’t skip a single phase. I laughed, I cried, I screamed at the universe about how unfair it all was. I even questioned the sanity of homeownership as an institution. With this many people losing their homes, isn’t it kind of odd that the ultimate expression of ‘making it in America’ has always been purchasing a home?
The oddest aspect of the whole affair was how I was treated by people with whom I shared the truth. I had people who say they care about me shrug and walk away. I also had some wonderfully upbeat people enter my life. My wife and I sweated out many sleepless nights and the stress level became totally unbearable for a while. My average night’s sleep has been between 3.5 to 5 hours per night.
Sometimes a lot less.
I discovered something wonderful though. After calling everyone I could call. After reams of paperwork and loan modifications and strained phone conversations with strangers in different states – when everything seemed at its darkest ebb, I realized that we weren’t our home.
If you remain in one place long enough it becomes an extension of who you are. There’s nothing unusual about this. It extends to all areas of your life. Remember the phrase ‘You are what you eat’? -it’s the same thing with other aspects of life. Humans get used to all kinds of circumstances, situations and collusions. As a species we identify with the people and things that fill our lives. So it’s not a stretch to understand why so many people go through incredible pain and tribulation when it comes time to get a car or home repossessed. As a former tow truck driver I’ve seen firsthand how people act when you try to take things that they consider theirs. These events are often ugly, violent, and extremely human.
But what had to happen in order to keep my sanity and my family together was to realize and act on the fact that even though we loved our little house – ultimately, it’s just a house. A building with walls and windows. A hole in the ground that we throw our money into.
Our HOME is me, my wife, and our children. It also is made up of our true friends, close family and the interactions that make it all work. Our HOME is made of the time we spend together doing things that family does – living, loving, arguing, laughing, crying and growing together.
Should you find yourself in the unfortunate place remember something - you are a happy, loving individual. Probably with a family and friends who care a great deal about you. You probably have co-workers, church brothers and sisters, a mailman and the local 7/11 worker who care about you. (Even the guy or girl in the 7/11 cares more than your mortgage company - trust me). You are not a number on a balance sheet. You are not a statistic to be casually tossed around by some idiot on wall street or in Washington who’s trying to make a point. You won’t die and if you don’t give up and fold over you won’t even be homeless.
Remember to breathe.
And think! Never forget that you are able to work through any adversity so long as you don’t allow your mind to shut down. It’s true that you will lose your bearings from time to time. You will be afraid. You will be angry. Accept them for what they are, emotions responding to a stimulus, and then keep it moving.
You will be okay, trust and believe it.
Peace.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Health
Health is a funny thing.
When you have it in abundance you don’t think about it. When you are sick it’s the only thing you wish for.
The problem is, since in normal times your health is the last thing on your mind, the inclination is not to do anything about it. Exercise and good nutrition take a back seat to the everyday stresses of life. Daily activities take up time in a way that make something as labor intensive as lifting weights or even going for a walk nearly impossible. It is true that everyone, even the most busy of us are not truly ‘that’ busy, but we manage to make enough excuses that simple exercise and nutrition get ignored.
Or if you are anything like me, it moves beyond disregard into the realm of callous contempt. Not only was I not working out or eating right, I was drinking way too much, sleeping less than 5 hours per night for months at a time, forcing myself to work through pain and injury, and generally treating my body like a 15 dollar whore. And to top it all off, I had a job that I absolutely hated and it showed in my every action and feeling. I hated getting up in the morning to go there, I hated being there and I hated going home each night knowing that I would have to go back.
It got inside and did a number on my mind and naturally my body followed.
Never let anyone tell you that your mind isn’t the most powerful force in the world. If you are convinced in your mind that you are sick, your body WILL agree with you. Stress starts in the mind but if its left unchecked, it will affect your physical body. What started as occasional headaches became overall body pain. That morphed into even less sleep, no dreams when I did sleep, and an increase in the amount of alcohol I was drinking trying to make myself sleep.
Ultimately it culminated in an event that scared the hell out of me.
One day at work, for no reason that I can figure, I experienced an intensely sharp pain in my head above my left eye. When the pain was over and I could see again without it hurting I realized that the entire left side of my body had gone numb. Talk about panic attack city. It lasted for about an hour. I could still move my arm and leg, but I couldn’t feel them. I pinched myself a few times and it was extremely eerie that I couldn’t feel the fingers of my right hand touching the skin on my left arm. It didn’t hurt, it was just numb.
Like I said, about an hour later I got a pins and needles sensation and I realized that I could feel them again. I didn’t tell anyone about it at work. I didn’t say anything about it to my wife until later. I did still go drink with my friends on their back deck. The cold air felt good to me and helped me get my bearings back.
I realize that I probably had a mini stroke. It’s not that I didn’t care, but what was I supposed to do? The doctor was out of the question. I’d recently been to the ER and since we don’t have insurance I wasn’t interested in putting us even more into debt. I am still paying for other medical stuff. Plus, I felt fine now. No loss of motor control, no slurring, no lasting pain or numbness. Personally I think it was a physical reaction to the stress I was feeling at work and my body took the only route it had open to get my attention.
I’ve suffered with panic attacks my whole life. I chalked this up to one hell of a grand mal attack. Later on when things got weird again I did finally go back to the doctor. 6 visits, an MRI, a CAT scan and a barium test later they determined that I have a 2mm aneurism in my brain on the left side behind my eye. Did it cause the pain and numbness? They don’t know. I went to a specialist but he wanted me to have surgery, something that wasn’t going to happen without insurance. So after talking with my regular doctor and doing some reading on my own I realized that I’d just have to live with it and hope that it didn’t get any bigger. I still have weird headaches and this tingling feeling from time to time. It feels a bit like a tight hat sitting over the top of my head, I’ve come to call it ‘helmet head’. It doesn’t hurt, but it feels…strange.
Anyway, I started this blog as a warning to myself and anyone else who reads it. When your health is on the line it’s not a good idea to ignore it. Drinking won’t make it better. Hanging out with people to all hours of the morning won’t make it better. Hating your job and not doing anything about it won’t make it better. Acting like it isn’t helping won’t make it better.
The only choice you have is to realize that you only get one body and you have to take care of it, regardless of how much ‘work’ it takes. Granted, we all live only until we die, but I am of the mind that your time alive should be spent as healthy as possible so that you get the benefit. If you are always sick there’s no fun in that.
And if you are sick through indifference, that’s even worse.
When you have it in abundance you don’t think about it. When you are sick it’s the only thing you wish for.
The problem is, since in normal times your health is the last thing on your mind, the inclination is not to do anything about it. Exercise and good nutrition take a back seat to the everyday stresses of life. Daily activities take up time in a way that make something as labor intensive as lifting weights or even going for a walk nearly impossible. It is true that everyone, even the most busy of us are not truly ‘that’ busy, but we manage to make enough excuses that simple exercise and nutrition get ignored.
Or if you are anything like me, it moves beyond disregard into the realm of callous contempt. Not only was I not working out or eating right, I was drinking way too much, sleeping less than 5 hours per night for months at a time, forcing myself to work through pain and injury, and generally treating my body like a 15 dollar whore. And to top it all off, I had a job that I absolutely hated and it showed in my every action and feeling. I hated getting up in the morning to go there, I hated being there and I hated going home each night knowing that I would have to go back.
It got inside and did a number on my mind and naturally my body followed.
Never let anyone tell you that your mind isn’t the most powerful force in the world. If you are convinced in your mind that you are sick, your body WILL agree with you. Stress starts in the mind but if its left unchecked, it will affect your physical body. What started as occasional headaches became overall body pain. That morphed into even less sleep, no dreams when I did sleep, and an increase in the amount of alcohol I was drinking trying to make myself sleep.
Ultimately it culminated in an event that scared the hell out of me.
One day at work, for no reason that I can figure, I experienced an intensely sharp pain in my head above my left eye. When the pain was over and I could see again without it hurting I realized that the entire left side of my body had gone numb. Talk about panic attack city. It lasted for about an hour. I could still move my arm and leg, but I couldn’t feel them. I pinched myself a few times and it was extremely eerie that I couldn’t feel the fingers of my right hand touching the skin on my left arm. It didn’t hurt, it was just numb.
Like I said, about an hour later I got a pins and needles sensation and I realized that I could feel them again. I didn’t tell anyone about it at work. I didn’t say anything about it to my wife until later. I did still go drink with my friends on their back deck. The cold air felt good to me and helped me get my bearings back.
I realize that I probably had a mini stroke. It’s not that I didn’t care, but what was I supposed to do? The doctor was out of the question. I’d recently been to the ER and since we don’t have insurance I wasn’t interested in putting us even more into debt. I am still paying for other medical stuff. Plus, I felt fine now. No loss of motor control, no slurring, no lasting pain or numbness. Personally I think it was a physical reaction to the stress I was feeling at work and my body took the only route it had open to get my attention.
I’ve suffered with panic attacks my whole life. I chalked this up to one hell of a grand mal attack. Later on when things got weird again I did finally go back to the doctor. 6 visits, an MRI, a CAT scan and a barium test later they determined that I have a 2mm aneurism in my brain on the left side behind my eye. Did it cause the pain and numbness? They don’t know. I went to a specialist but he wanted me to have surgery, something that wasn’t going to happen without insurance. So after talking with my regular doctor and doing some reading on my own I realized that I’d just have to live with it and hope that it didn’t get any bigger. I still have weird headaches and this tingling feeling from time to time. It feels a bit like a tight hat sitting over the top of my head, I’ve come to call it ‘helmet head’. It doesn’t hurt, but it feels…strange.
Anyway, I started this blog as a warning to myself and anyone else who reads it. When your health is on the line it’s not a good idea to ignore it. Drinking won’t make it better. Hanging out with people to all hours of the morning won’t make it better. Hating your job and not doing anything about it won’t make it better. Acting like it isn’t helping won’t make it better.
The only choice you have is to realize that you only get one body and you have to take care of it, regardless of how much ‘work’ it takes. Granted, we all live only until we die, but I am of the mind that your time alive should be spent as healthy as possible so that you get the benefit. If you are always sick there’s no fun in that.
And if you are sick through indifference, that’s even worse.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
...of those who've gone before
Since this year is all about being honest with myself, I have to work through a problem that is preventing my success as a writer.
I am friends with a number of professional authors. Two of these people are making really large strides towards building strong careers and lasting legacies of books and other materials. I have seen them accept awards for their stories and work towards writing for their own television series.
I listen to podcast novels and short stories by a bunch of other authors who have found a way to make a name for themselves in the podosphere. Multiple novels over the course of the year and a half that I’ve had my iPod. I can’t even count how many short stories I’ve heard or read.
You would think that all of this wonderful content and access to talented people would catapult me into the stratosphere of creativity. But please remember, this is me we’re talking about.
It has done the exact opposite.
I have one novel that is 15 chapters in. The story on this one is developing. I wrote the first 15 chapters in a white heat with only a vague idea of where it was all going. I developed one very strong lead character and a cast of supporting characters. I established a mystery to be solved in the first chapter and then added even more questions as it went on. I put the primary character in mortal danger and I even put her in the way of a force that may be stronger than she can handle.
And then the bottom fell out. I started that story two years ago. It’s still at the same point 15 chapters later. I don’t even remember the last time I added anything to it. At this point I would have to re-read the entire thing to remind myself were I was and try to figure out where I was going. Basically this one is dead in the water.
I have another novel that is 10 chapters in. I already know the entire story that this one entails. I know the beginning, most of the middle and the end. I know the primary characters, the basic plot, two of the sub plots and the structure. I know the genre. I know the meme. I know the heroes journey of the two primary characters. I know most everything needed to write the story outline, skeleton and even add some flesh to the bones.
I know that I have to write the rough draft first and that it’s okay if the rough sucks. That’s what rough drafts are for. I’m smart enough to know that I’m not supposed to allow the editor to sit with the writer while he is doing his thing. I also know that the rough is just for me. No one else will ever read it.
Despite knowing all that, this one has been dead in the water for almost 9 months. I got to a point in the story where it felt like I ran into a solid steel wall. And despite a few false starts over the last few months, I haven’t been able to scale or circle around the wall. (Recently I’ve been considering tunneling under it…)
These are just the two I am willing to admit to now. There are several other novel starts that are quite a bit older than these two. One of them goes back more than 20 years.
So, I began to wonder, why is it that I am having such trouble? Why is it that I’ve surrounded myself with writers, published authors, editors, and those who think of themselves as intelligent wordsmiths? Having all of that backup, what is my problem?
When I decided to be honest with myself, I never realized where it might lead. It didn’t occur to me that being honest meant digging out all of the old shit that’s been cluttering up my head all of these years, examining it in the cold light of reality and then making a value decision about what mattered, what was real and what was my foolish imagining. I naively thought that I would be able to just go on with my daily life and maybe fix a few things as they came up. Kind of like holding a starship together with spit and duct tape. Man. Was. I. Wrong.
I’ve spent so long living in other peoples heads trying to figure out how they got what they wanted that I forgot a simple truth about life. My heroes journey has very little to do with the heroes journey of the people I know. Again, I know this sounds obvious, but I’m a bit slow.
I haven’t spent nearly enough time getting into my own head to figure out what I want and who I am. It’s really no wonder that I am having trouble writing. I keep comparing myself to the published authors I know. I wonder why my stories aren’t as good as theirs. I wonder why I feel a pang of jealousy and anger each time I hear a new story by someone I know or even worse, someone I’ve never heard of who managed to sell their first piece on their first try. So, since I don’t know myself, I can’t access the part that tells stories that resonate within me. They come out of desire. They come out of a sheer stubbornness. They come out of a touch of talent, but they DON’T come out of my heart.
I have rejection letters, just like every other writer. I recognize that there is a rite of passage that I apparently haven’t paid enough dues for. That part only mildly annoys me. I know that the price of entry is high.
Social media has become a crutch that I have to scale back on or eliminate entirely. It’s too easy to sit and commiserate with others like me who haven’t published anything. Wallowing in shit is easy, even if it does stink. But there has to be an end point.
I’ve reached mine.
A person who has been a good friend for almost 11 years received an award from the NAACP and instead of feeling elated and enthusiastic, I got a major attack of jealousy. It was their night to shine and though I did feel happiness that their efforts had been rewarded, all I could think about was how much further I had to go.
Time to stop with the Bull. My career. My choice to succeed or fail.
I know what it takes to write a novel. I know what it takes to write a short story. It’s not impossible to do, even for someone who has a history of starting and stopping like I do. So my pledge to myself is the following seven steps:
1. I will ignore social media for the next 90 days until I have finished the rough draft of Hunter.
2. I will stay away from fan sites or author official sites or any other web presence that will tend to make me doubt myself.
3. I will only listen to the older radio shows on my iPod – there is no direct competition from The Shadow, or Gunsmoke or Suspense. I can listen to these and just enjoy the story.
4. I will write a minimum of 500 words per day even if it’s the same word over and over again.
5. I will work towards shutting down the goddamn editor so that the writer can do his thing without being.
6. I will remake the connection with my own mind. I will forge a new link to my heart so that I can concentrate on my own stories.
7. I will give myself a damned break about whether or not I am any good at creating stories.
I’ve seen enough bad ones to know that I can do better.
90 days. Not a life time. Just enough time to write a rough draft and then give myself two or three weeks before starting a new project. Enough time for a new change to become a permanent habit. Enough time to turn things around for good.
Wow.
I am friends with a number of professional authors. Two of these people are making really large strides towards building strong careers and lasting legacies of books and other materials. I have seen them accept awards for their stories and work towards writing for their own television series.
I listen to podcast novels and short stories by a bunch of other authors who have found a way to make a name for themselves in the podosphere. Multiple novels over the course of the year and a half that I’ve had my iPod. I can’t even count how many short stories I’ve heard or read.
You would think that all of this wonderful content and access to talented people would catapult me into the stratosphere of creativity. But please remember, this is me we’re talking about.
It has done the exact opposite.
I have one novel that is 15 chapters in. The story on this one is developing. I wrote the first 15 chapters in a white heat with only a vague idea of where it was all going. I developed one very strong lead character and a cast of supporting characters. I established a mystery to be solved in the first chapter and then added even more questions as it went on. I put the primary character in mortal danger and I even put her in the way of a force that may be stronger than she can handle.
And then the bottom fell out. I started that story two years ago. It’s still at the same point 15 chapters later. I don’t even remember the last time I added anything to it. At this point I would have to re-read the entire thing to remind myself were I was and try to figure out where I was going. Basically this one is dead in the water.
I have another novel that is 10 chapters in. I already know the entire story that this one entails. I know the beginning, most of the middle and the end. I know the primary characters, the basic plot, two of the sub plots and the structure. I know the genre. I know the meme. I know the heroes journey of the two primary characters. I know most everything needed to write the story outline, skeleton and even add some flesh to the bones.
I know that I have to write the rough draft first and that it’s okay if the rough sucks. That’s what rough drafts are for. I’m smart enough to know that I’m not supposed to allow the editor to sit with the writer while he is doing his thing. I also know that the rough is just for me. No one else will ever read it.
Despite knowing all that, this one has been dead in the water for almost 9 months. I got to a point in the story where it felt like I ran into a solid steel wall. And despite a few false starts over the last few months, I haven’t been able to scale or circle around the wall. (Recently I’ve been considering tunneling under it…)
These are just the two I am willing to admit to now. There are several other novel starts that are quite a bit older than these two. One of them goes back more than 20 years.
So, I began to wonder, why is it that I am having such trouble? Why is it that I’ve surrounded myself with writers, published authors, editors, and those who think of themselves as intelligent wordsmiths? Having all of that backup, what is my problem?
When I decided to be honest with myself, I never realized where it might lead. It didn’t occur to me that being honest meant digging out all of the old shit that’s been cluttering up my head all of these years, examining it in the cold light of reality and then making a value decision about what mattered, what was real and what was my foolish imagining. I naively thought that I would be able to just go on with my daily life and maybe fix a few things as they came up. Kind of like holding a starship together with spit and duct tape. Man. Was. I. Wrong.
I’ve spent so long living in other peoples heads trying to figure out how they got what they wanted that I forgot a simple truth about life. My heroes journey has very little to do with the heroes journey of the people I know. Again, I know this sounds obvious, but I’m a bit slow.
I haven’t spent nearly enough time getting into my own head to figure out what I want and who I am. It’s really no wonder that I am having trouble writing. I keep comparing myself to the published authors I know. I wonder why my stories aren’t as good as theirs. I wonder why I feel a pang of jealousy and anger each time I hear a new story by someone I know or even worse, someone I’ve never heard of who managed to sell their first piece on their first try. So, since I don’t know myself, I can’t access the part that tells stories that resonate within me. They come out of desire. They come out of a sheer stubbornness. They come out of a touch of talent, but they DON’T come out of my heart.
I have rejection letters, just like every other writer. I recognize that there is a rite of passage that I apparently haven’t paid enough dues for. That part only mildly annoys me. I know that the price of entry is high.
Social media has become a crutch that I have to scale back on or eliminate entirely. It’s too easy to sit and commiserate with others like me who haven’t published anything. Wallowing in shit is easy, even if it does stink. But there has to be an end point.
I’ve reached mine.
A person who has been a good friend for almost 11 years received an award from the NAACP and instead of feeling elated and enthusiastic, I got a major attack of jealousy. It was their night to shine and though I did feel happiness that their efforts had been rewarded, all I could think about was how much further I had to go.
Time to stop with the Bull. My career. My choice to succeed or fail.
I know what it takes to write a novel. I know what it takes to write a short story. It’s not impossible to do, even for someone who has a history of starting and stopping like I do. So my pledge to myself is the following seven steps:
1. I will ignore social media for the next 90 days until I have finished the rough draft of Hunter.
2. I will stay away from fan sites or author official sites or any other web presence that will tend to make me doubt myself.
3. I will only listen to the older radio shows on my iPod – there is no direct competition from The Shadow, or Gunsmoke or Suspense. I can listen to these and just enjoy the story.
4. I will write a minimum of 500 words per day even if it’s the same word over and over again.
5. I will work towards shutting down the goddamn editor so that the writer can do his thing without being.
6. I will remake the connection with my own mind. I will forge a new link to my heart so that I can concentrate on my own stories.
7. I will give myself a damned break about whether or not I am any good at creating stories.
I’ve seen enough bad ones to know that I can do better.
90 days. Not a life time. Just enough time to write a rough draft and then give myself two or three weeks before starting a new project. Enough time for a new change to become a permanent habit. Enough time to turn things around for good.
Wow.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Limbaugh is the RNC? Really??
I’m trying to work out a small problem in my head that maybe you can help me with.
I am looking for the point at which Rush Limbaugh allowed his ego to grow so large that he felt he could eclipse the will of the President and the country at large.
I was apparently asleep at the point which he felt that his opinion would sway policy intended to get OUR country back on track. Is it the 20 million listeners? Is that the drive behind his destructive words? Well, who the hell cares? I don’t see that he was ever elected to public office. I don’t see where he ever helped balance a state budget. I also don’t see where he led anyone anywhere except down the garden path of hatred and bigotry.
He’s never held office. He’s never lead a major company. He’s never even picked up a single piece of litter on the side of the road that I know of. Divorced three times, failed out of college, controversy at every step. And this is the guy that people listen to?
So why the hell is what he says so important? For that matter, why is anyone who’s never brought a damned thing to the table except complaints worth listening to?
Every day in this country, good, honest citizens try to make a difference in the lives of others around them. They go to jobs as firemen, police officers, community leaders, pastors, activists, sanitation workers and a thousand other things. They DO something every day that makes a physical difference to the world around them. It isn’t just hot air being spewed out of both sides of their neck. These people sacrifice daily to make the country work.
To be honest, I wouldn’t want the president’s job. It’s largely thankless and despite the power and authority, it ages people at an accelerated rate. I think that Barack Obama is one hell of a brave man for even wanting to do it. Brave and maybe just a bit insane.
The current climate is one of the worst in 70 years. Certainly the worst in my short lifetime. The house is falling over and he’s out there with his bare hands and brain trying to hold the damned thing up and the only thing idiots like Limbaugh can do is complain? Jeez.
It’s no wonder that the Republican Party is in the shape it’s in. When they have people like Limbaugh as their water boys, the team goes thirsty. He has gained such a reputation that when the RNC members go against what he says; they have to apologize to HIM? WTF?
The following citation is from Wikipedia and CBS News –
"Leader of Republican Party"
On March 1, 2009 CBS's "Face the Nation" asked chief-of-Staff, Rahm Emanuel: Who represented the Republican Party? He answered, it was Limbaugh. "He called for President Obama to fail. That’s his view. And that’s what he has enunciated. And whenever a Republican criticize him, they have to run back and apologize to him, and say they were misunderstood. He is the voice and the intellectual force and energy behind the Republican Party."
On March 2, 2009, Limbaugh responded to Rahm Emanuel:
I'm going further and telling you today it's not that I want Obama to fail; that's not it anymore. The President is presiding over economic failure. The President is watching it, doing nothing about it. He's watching unemployment grow; he's watching the stock market plummet; he is watching people sign up for unemployment. The President of the United States is doing nothing to stop the downward spiral of this economy. He has no economic recovery plan. The truth is, the President of the United States and Rahm Emanuel, who, remember, said, 'Crisis is too great a thing to waste'. What does that mean? They want you suffering, they want you miserable, they want it worse, they want you rejecting conservatism. They want you rejecting capitalism. They want you turning to them in fear and desperation and angst for an immediate fix to the problem. They want you thinking you have no ability to fix your own problems. They think you have and they want you to have no ability to take care of yourself. So as the stock market now approaches minus 2,800 since Obama was elected, the statement today is to speed up the economic recovery, we're going to focus on health care. Ask yourself how that is going to get you your next job."
On March 3, 2009, The Wall Street Journal opined that Mr. Emanuel is more preoccupied with malevolent partisan conflict than beneficial "economic leadership".
In remarks aired by CNN on March 1, 2009, Republican Party Chairman Michael Steele said in jest, that he, rather than Limbaugh, is "the de facto leader of the Republican Party".
On his March 2, 2009 radio show, Limbaugh responded that Steele is not fit to lead the Republican Party.
Steele later telephoned Limbaugh and apologized,
"I have enormous respect for Rush Limbaugh. I was maybe a little bit inarticulate. There was no attempt on my part to diminish his voice or his leadership. I went back at that tape and I realized words that I said weren’t what I was thinking. It was one of those things where I thinking I was saying one thing, and it came out differently. What I was trying to say was a lot of people want to make Rush the scapegoat, the bogeyman, and he’s not." Steele later issued another statement to say that Limbaugh "is a national conservative leader, and in no way do I want to diminish his voice. I truly apologize."
So where was all this yelling and screaming when Bush was in office? Where was this huge sense of right and wrong when billions were being sent to banks so they could buy jet planes? Does anyone else see a problem with all this?
The republicans did their best, the people wanted something else. To Rush and the others I say – Let it fucking go and help build the country back up.
I am looking for the point at which Rush Limbaugh allowed his ego to grow so large that he felt he could eclipse the will of the President and the country at large.
I was apparently asleep at the point which he felt that his opinion would sway policy intended to get OUR country back on track. Is it the 20 million listeners? Is that the drive behind his destructive words? Well, who the hell cares? I don’t see that he was ever elected to public office. I don’t see where he ever helped balance a state budget. I also don’t see where he led anyone anywhere except down the garden path of hatred and bigotry.
He’s never held office. He’s never lead a major company. He’s never even picked up a single piece of litter on the side of the road that I know of. Divorced three times, failed out of college, controversy at every step. And this is the guy that people listen to?
So why the hell is what he says so important? For that matter, why is anyone who’s never brought a damned thing to the table except complaints worth listening to?
Every day in this country, good, honest citizens try to make a difference in the lives of others around them. They go to jobs as firemen, police officers, community leaders, pastors, activists, sanitation workers and a thousand other things. They DO something every day that makes a physical difference to the world around them. It isn’t just hot air being spewed out of both sides of their neck. These people sacrifice daily to make the country work.
To be honest, I wouldn’t want the president’s job. It’s largely thankless and despite the power and authority, it ages people at an accelerated rate. I think that Barack Obama is one hell of a brave man for even wanting to do it. Brave and maybe just a bit insane.
The current climate is one of the worst in 70 years. Certainly the worst in my short lifetime. The house is falling over and he’s out there with his bare hands and brain trying to hold the damned thing up and the only thing idiots like Limbaugh can do is complain? Jeez.
It’s no wonder that the Republican Party is in the shape it’s in. When they have people like Limbaugh as their water boys, the team goes thirsty. He has gained such a reputation that when the RNC members go against what he says; they have to apologize to HIM? WTF?
The following citation is from Wikipedia and CBS News –
"Leader of Republican Party"
On March 1, 2009 CBS's "Face the Nation" asked chief-of-Staff, Rahm Emanuel: Who represented the Republican Party? He answered, it was Limbaugh. "He called for President Obama to fail. That’s his view. And that’s what he has enunciated. And whenever a Republican criticize him, they have to run back and apologize to him, and say they were misunderstood. He is the voice and the intellectual force and energy behind the Republican Party."
On March 2, 2009, Limbaugh responded to Rahm Emanuel:
I'm going further and telling you today it's not that I want Obama to fail; that's not it anymore. The President is presiding over economic failure. The President is watching it, doing nothing about it. He's watching unemployment grow; he's watching the stock market plummet; he is watching people sign up for unemployment. The President of the United States is doing nothing to stop the downward spiral of this economy. He has no economic recovery plan. The truth is, the President of the United States and Rahm Emanuel, who, remember, said, 'Crisis is too great a thing to waste'. What does that mean? They want you suffering, they want you miserable, they want it worse, they want you rejecting conservatism. They want you rejecting capitalism. They want you turning to them in fear and desperation and angst for an immediate fix to the problem. They want you thinking you have no ability to fix your own problems. They think you have and they want you to have no ability to take care of yourself. So as the stock market now approaches minus 2,800 since Obama was elected, the statement today is to speed up the economic recovery, we're going to focus on health care. Ask yourself how that is going to get you your next job."
On March 3, 2009, The Wall Street Journal opined that Mr. Emanuel is more preoccupied with malevolent partisan conflict than beneficial "economic leadership".
In remarks aired by CNN on March 1, 2009, Republican Party Chairman Michael Steele said in jest, that he, rather than Limbaugh, is "the de facto leader of the Republican Party".
On his March 2, 2009 radio show, Limbaugh responded that Steele is not fit to lead the Republican Party.
Steele later telephoned Limbaugh and apologized,
"I have enormous respect for Rush Limbaugh. I was maybe a little bit inarticulate. There was no attempt on my part to diminish his voice or his leadership. I went back at that tape and I realized words that I said weren’t what I was thinking. It was one of those things where I thinking I was saying one thing, and it came out differently. What I was trying to say was a lot of people want to make Rush the scapegoat, the bogeyman, and he’s not." Steele later issued another statement to say that Limbaugh "is a national conservative leader, and in no way do I want to diminish his voice. I truly apologize."
So where was all this yelling and screaming when Bush was in office? Where was this huge sense of right and wrong when billions were being sent to banks so they could buy jet planes? Does anyone else see a problem with all this?
The republicans did their best, the people wanted something else. To Rush and the others I say – Let it fucking go and help build the country back up.
Monday, March 2, 2009
The new shift
In the olden days, when the web was just a twinkle in Al Gore’s eye, if you wanted to find a job you simply got on your horse and rode out to the nearest job fair. There you would schmooze with all of the other job fair attendees and companies looking for a few good men (or women). You would smile, nod politely, answer a few inane questions and then start your new job next Monday at 9 sharp.
Or, if you weren’t into the whole ‘cattle call’ event, you would gather up your resumes and head for the nearest place of business. There you would hand out your resumes, fill out a 30 page application that asked questions like – “Why did you leave your last job?”, or “May we contact your last employer?”
Yeah, that’s just what I want. My hopefully new employer learning about all of my bad habits from my last employer…
Sometimes this method paid off. It was far more likely that you ended up with a sore wrist from filling out all those pages of information that the application required. If you were lucky, your skill set matched an available job and you would get called in for an interview. IF you were lucky.
By IF, I mean – IF you weren’t suddenly too old (never be fooled, ageism is alive and well) or IF you hadn’t been fired from your last job for an addiction to internet porn (you sicko!), or IF your skills matched an available job right down to the last possible microgram or IF…well you get my meaning.
It’s not that I am down on the whole idea of searching for a job. No, quite the opposite, I think that right now is the best time to be enhancing skills, taking classes and polishing the old resume. My problem comes from the fact that the old way of searching for a job has undergone a shift not unlike the upheaval in the economy.
Going door to door simply won’t work. How many dozens of companies have online forms that are designed to weed out the weak? No one seems to welcome the drop in anymore. I know this for a fact. I have filled out the online forms and then gone to the stores just ‘to get more information’ and what I’ve been met with is a wall of stupidity a foot thick. No, they don’t know if they are hiring. No, that manager is out for the day. No, the website should have given you all your answers….
Some stores won’t even talk to people who walk in. Kroger doesn’t accept paper applications. Neither does Lowes, Home Depot, Best Buy, WalMart or a dozen others. I can’t swear to this, but of the stores on that list, they all seem to use the same company for online applications. The hiring team isn’t anyone on the ground at a store. It’s some nebulous web site that may or may not process your application.
Okay, so online apps are kind of a waste, what’s next? Ah, yes, the venerable county or city website that has jobs posted. At least there is a human being that you can talk to at a local desk. These sorts of places include County agencies (city hall, public works, police & fire, etc.). You can go into their office, fill out and application, take a placement test and then be told (very politely) to have a nice day. Of course, the person who takes your application isn’t involved in the hiring process. For the most part, they don’t even work in the same department or agency that you are applying for. There’s no way to track what happens to your application and resume. If you call them, they will refer you back to the website, which carries the following line of text that you are pretty sure wasn’t there before – If you match the minimum requirements you will be contacted. Do not call or email this office. Damn. Gotta get better about reading the fine print…
Okay, so now we are to the cattle call, oops, sorry I mean Job Fair. Since there are so many thousands of people out of jobs, Job Fairs can be a bit daunting. When there are about 300 jobs available and 6000 people show up, it tends to lower your odds. You’d better have all of your ducks in a row.
On second thought, never mind the ducks, they just increase the competition.
If you go to a job fair make sure you are dressed to kill. A nice suit, tie and clean fresh breath are essential. Bring lots of copies of your polished resume and all of your patience. Depending on how long the event is supposed to last and how many companies are there, it will be a lot like speed dating. You get about 45 seconds to make your pitch, ask and answer questions, pass on your resume, get some idea of what job specifics the company wants, find out where they are physically located, get a business card, admire how the interviewers manage to keep a smile on their face despite the fact that they can see the 300 foot line behind you. Whew, it took me more than 45 seconds to type that last line.
So what’s left? Oh, I know. Start your own business. Yeah, I know. It’s probably not the best time to be trying to drop into the business world. But think about it... There hasn’t been a time like this for entrepreneurs in a lot of years. Since the early 1900’s the focus has been on getting a job with some big company, staying there for 25 or 30 years. Climbing the ladder and getting the gold watch at the top.
But like everything else, that paradigm has changed. Companies are about as interested in having you stay with them for 30 years as you are. New blood is more important to them. I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard about companies finding legal ways to push out everyone above a certain age. Also, the last two job fairs I’ve been to and the networking meetings contain people who are well past their early 30’s. I think that things are changing on an hourly basis at this point.
It almost makes more sense to develop a plan while at your current job, and then work that plan for all you are worth. Who knows, you might find out that you are better boss than anyone else you’ve ever had. At the very least, if you are the one calling the shots, you get to pick your own destiny.
Or, if you weren’t into the whole ‘cattle call’ event, you would gather up your resumes and head for the nearest place of business. There you would hand out your resumes, fill out a 30 page application that asked questions like – “Why did you leave your last job?”, or “May we contact your last employer?”
Yeah, that’s just what I want. My hopefully new employer learning about all of my bad habits from my last employer…
Sometimes this method paid off. It was far more likely that you ended up with a sore wrist from filling out all those pages of information that the application required. If you were lucky, your skill set matched an available job and you would get called in for an interview. IF you were lucky.
By IF, I mean – IF you weren’t suddenly too old (never be fooled, ageism is alive and well) or IF you hadn’t been fired from your last job for an addiction to internet porn (you sicko!), or IF your skills matched an available job right down to the last possible microgram or IF…well you get my meaning.
It’s not that I am down on the whole idea of searching for a job. No, quite the opposite, I think that right now is the best time to be enhancing skills, taking classes and polishing the old resume. My problem comes from the fact that the old way of searching for a job has undergone a shift not unlike the upheaval in the economy.
Going door to door simply won’t work. How many dozens of companies have online forms that are designed to weed out the weak? No one seems to welcome the drop in anymore. I know this for a fact. I have filled out the online forms and then gone to the stores just ‘to get more information’ and what I’ve been met with is a wall of stupidity a foot thick. No, they don’t know if they are hiring. No, that manager is out for the day. No, the website should have given you all your answers….
Some stores won’t even talk to people who walk in. Kroger doesn’t accept paper applications. Neither does Lowes, Home Depot, Best Buy, WalMart or a dozen others. I can’t swear to this, but of the stores on that list, they all seem to use the same company for online applications. The hiring team isn’t anyone on the ground at a store. It’s some nebulous web site that may or may not process your application.
Okay, so online apps are kind of a waste, what’s next? Ah, yes, the venerable county or city website that has jobs posted. At least there is a human being that you can talk to at a local desk. These sorts of places include County agencies (city hall, public works, police & fire, etc.). You can go into their office, fill out and application, take a placement test and then be told (very politely) to have a nice day. Of course, the person who takes your application isn’t involved in the hiring process. For the most part, they don’t even work in the same department or agency that you are applying for. There’s no way to track what happens to your application and resume. If you call them, they will refer you back to the website, which carries the following line of text that you are pretty sure wasn’t there before – If you match the minimum requirements you will be contacted. Do not call or email this office. Damn. Gotta get better about reading the fine print…
Okay, so now we are to the cattle call, oops, sorry I mean Job Fair. Since there are so many thousands of people out of jobs, Job Fairs can be a bit daunting. When there are about 300 jobs available and 6000 people show up, it tends to lower your odds. You’d better have all of your ducks in a row.
On second thought, never mind the ducks, they just increase the competition.
If you go to a job fair make sure you are dressed to kill. A nice suit, tie and clean fresh breath are essential. Bring lots of copies of your polished resume and all of your patience. Depending on how long the event is supposed to last and how many companies are there, it will be a lot like speed dating. You get about 45 seconds to make your pitch, ask and answer questions, pass on your resume, get some idea of what job specifics the company wants, find out where they are physically located, get a business card, admire how the interviewers manage to keep a smile on their face despite the fact that they can see the 300 foot line behind you. Whew, it took me more than 45 seconds to type that last line.
So what’s left? Oh, I know. Start your own business. Yeah, I know. It’s probably not the best time to be trying to drop into the business world. But think about it... There hasn’t been a time like this for entrepreneurs in a lot of years. Since the early 1900’s the focus has been on getting a job with some big company, staying there for 25 or 30 years. Climbing the ladder and getting the gold watch at the top.
But like everything else, that paradigm has changed. Companies are about as interested in having you stay with them for 30 years as you are. New blood is more important to them. I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard about companies finding legal ways to push out everyone above a certain age. Also, the last two job fairs I’ve been to and the networking meetings contain people who are well past their early 30’s. I think that things are changing on an hourly basis at this point.
It almost makes more sense to develop a plan while at your current job, and then work that plan for all you are worth. Who knows, you might find out that you are better boss than anyone else you’ve ever had. At the very least, if you are the one calling the shots, you get to pick your own destiny.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Finding a way to do business despite the fear
I’m almost embarrassed to admit this, but one of the things slowing down my ultimate success is fear. Why don’t I want to admit that? Well, because while fear is a normal part of doing business on my own, my fear is based on issues a bit less ordinary.
There is a natural inclination towards being intimidated by people you don’t know. Call it an outgrowth of the survival instinct. Or an extension of living in the projects and treating everyone you meet with a healthy level of suspicion. You just never knew who was safe and who could be dangerous. The best route was to assume everyone was hazardous. There was nothing worse than trusting someone only to have them stab you in the back – several times. Literally – with a knife. Getting jittery was natural.
We tend to move away from situations that could possibly cause pain and contacting a complete stranger to ask them for work (or a date for that matter) is an open invitation to rejection. Rejection is something that humans handle in different ways. You can become used to it and convince yourself that you don’t feel anything. Or you will rebel against that rejection and fight it on every level. There really isn’t a middle ground with this one. Because of how we’re wired, you either fight it or you run away from it.
Some people are better at masking their feelings. They appear as if nothing or no one ever bothers them. They are the supermen or superwomen of the world who bulldoze through any obstacle or opponent that dares challenge them.
More power to those people. I, however, am not in their ranks.
I take a bit slower approach since my personality doesn’t include any bulldozer attachments. I began my company just after leaving a part time job at SunTrust. Everything I did was aimed at letting people know I was out there in a semi-passive way.
I created brochures and business cards. I built my own website. I let people know that I was out there during networking meetings and chamber of commerce events. I sent out sales letters to non-profit organizations offering pro-bono services for a short time (to build my portfolio). I made friends with a few other independent business owners and tried to learn some of the ins and outs from people who’ve been on their own for a while.
But – I did not get on the phone and start willy-nilly calling people. I didn’t walk up to business owners I didn’t know and start my spiel. I never found myself trapped in an elevator with the CEO of XYZ Company. I am not open to that sort of rejection.
Through word of mouth I did get my first assignment. Cool, right? It was a total disaster. Partly because I didn’t define who I was and what I did, and partly because the business owner wanted the world, but didn’t want to pay for it.
That failure and the lack of other initial leads intensified the fear and I found myself wondering if leaving my job had been such a hot idea. I got out the book of lists and tried again with the sales letters. Still kind of passive I know, but at least I was trying something.
Why not just get on the phone and call a lot of people? Let me explain my issue with the phone.
I have spent the last 19 years in jobs that feature heavy phone contact with the public or internal employees. I have been screamed at. Called out my name. Treated as though I weren’t human. Now, granted, having people scream at me probably shouldn’t have gotten to me. I should have just let it roll off my back like it didn’t matter. I should have let some of the acid comments, condemnations and pure hatred just run in one ear and out the other, right? That might have worked if I wasn’t the person I am. I love helping people. That’s all I’ve ever really done. Help others. I wouldn’t take customer service jobs if I didn’t like helping. So to have that thrown back in my face hurt. It’s never fun to be trying to solve a problem and have a person spit on you.
Customer service is a fascinating world full of ‘interesting’ people. Some are there to help and some are there for the paycheck. No matter the reason for taking the job I fully understand why folks on the other end of the line sometimes act like they don’t care when you call to get something taken care of or fixed. Humans aren’t very fond of being treated like dirt, and it only takes a little while to turn a caring, trusting person into a raging asshole. Clark Howard likes to complain about customer service people, I’d like to see him do the job for 18 years just to see if he’d get it…
When I left AT&T I swore to myself that before I ever got another customer service job, I would shoot myself in the face. My hatred of the telephone extends into my private life. The phone can ring in the house and I will only look at it.
I could be three inches away, but if I don’t recognize the number as a friend, family or client, I will let it go to voice mail. I always call right back, especially if it is a client. But the odds of getting me on the first ring are slim. I do a gut check every time the phone rings. It’s become an involuntary muscle response.
That’s why something like cold calling won’t work for me. Hell, I’m not even fond of being on the phone with people I know.
My methods are going to have to remain what bulldozer people would call ‘passive’ for now. Networking meetings, sales pitches via letter or email, chamber of commerce business events, word of mouth, my web site and the HC newsletter. That sort of thing. Until I develop those muscles that allow me to do it the other way, it’s all I have to work with.
There is a natural inclination towards being intimidated by people you don’t know. Call it an outgrowth of the survival instinct. Or an extension of living in the projects and treating everyone you meet with a healthy level of suspicion. You just never knew who was safe and who could be dangerous. The best route was to assume everyone was hazardous. There was nothing worse than trusting someone only to have them stab you in the back – several times. Literally – with a knife. Getting jittery was natural.
We tend to move away from situations that could possibly cause pain and contacting a complete stranger to ask them for work (or a date for that matter) is an open invitation to rejection. Rejection is something that humans handle in different ways. You can become used to it and convince yourself that you don’t feel anything. Or you will rebel against that rejection and fight it on every level. There really isn’t a middle ground with this one. Because of how we’re wired, you either fight it or you run away from it.
Some people are better at masking their feelings. They appear as if nothing or no one ever bothers them. They are the supermen or superwomen of the world who bulldoze through any obstacle or opponent that dares challenge them.
More power to those people. I, however, am not in their ranks.
I take a bit slower approach since my personality doesn’t include any bulldozer attachments. I began my company just after leaving a part time job at SunTrust. Everything I did was aimed at letting people know I was out there in a semi-passive way.
I created brochures and business cards. I built my own website. I let people know that I was out there during networking meetings and chamber of commerce events. I sent out sales letters to non-profit organizations offering pro-bono services for a short time (to build my portfolio). I made friends with a few other independent business owners and tried to learn some of the ins and outs from people who’ve been on their own for a while.
But – I did not get on the phone and start willy-nilly calling people. I didn’t walk up to business owners I didn’t know and start my spiel. I never found myself trapped in an elevator with the CEO of XYZ Company. I am not open to that sort of rejection.
Through word of mouth I did get my first assignment. Cool, right? It was a total disaster. Partly because I didn’t define who I was and what I did, and partly because the business owner wanted the world, but didn’t want to pay for it.
That failure and the lack of other initial leads intensified the fear and I found myself wondering if leaving my job had been such a hot idea. I got out the book of lists and tried again with the sales letters. Still kind of passive I know, but at least I was trying something.
Why not just get on the phone and call a lot of people? Let me explain my issue with the phone.
I have spent the last 19 years in jobs that feature heavy phone contact with the public or internal employees. I have been screamed at. Called out my name. Treated as though I weren’t human. Now, granted, having people scream at me probably shouldn’t have gotten to me. I should have just let it roll off my back like it didn’t matter. I should have let some of the acid comments, condemnations and pure hatred just run in one ear and out the other, right? That might have worked if I wasn’t the person I am. I love helping people. That’s all I’ve ever really done. Help others. I wouldn’t take customer service jobs if I didn’t like helping. So to have that thrown back in my face hurt. It’s never fun to be trying to solve a problem and have a person spit on you.
Customer service is a fascinating world full of ‘interesting’ people. Some are there to help and some are there for the paycheck. No matter the reason for taking the job I fully understand why folks on the other end of the line sometimes act like they don’t care when you call to get something taken care of or fixed. Humans aren’t very fond of being treated like dirt, and it only takes a little while to turn a caring, trusting person into a raging asshole. Clark Howard likes to complain about customer service people, I’d like to see him do the job for 18 years just to see if he’d get it…
When I left AT&T I swore to myself that before I ever got another customer service job, I would shoot myself in the face. My hatred of the telephone extends into my private life. The phone can ring in the house and I will only look at it.
I could be three inches away, but if I don’t recognize the number as a friend, family or client, I will let it go to voice mail. I always call right back, especially if it is a client. But the odds of getting me on the first ring are slim. I do a gut check every time the phone rings. It’s become an involuntary muscle response.
That’s why something like cold calling won’t work for me. Hell, I’m not even fond of being on the phone with people I know.
My methods are going to have to remain what bulldozer people would call ‘passive’ for now. Networking meetings, sales pitches via letter or email, chamber of commerce business events, word of mouth, my web site and the HC newsletter. That sort of thing. Until I develop those muscles that allow me to do it the other way, it’s all I have to work with.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
What I risk
Because I’ve chosen the task of being honest with myself this year, I have to admit that there are some disturbing aspects to my decision.
The single greatest one is the possibility that I might discover my core values and desires don’t match that of my wife or the people I currently know. It’s frightening to think that I might realize who I am inside is not in alignment with the life I’ve been living for the last 20 odd years.
I’m deliberately not going back any further because 17 years ago when I met my current wife, I was another person on a completely different path in life. It’s almost like my old life truly ended and I was reborn as the man I am now. That’s how I had to treat it to survive my divorce with some sense of myself still intact.
So for purposes of this thought experiment, I am not going to worry about anything that happened before 1990. With the exception of thinking about my oldest son, I try very hard not to revisit that period of time anyway.
Since 1990 I’ve been married to a wonderful woman. We have been compared to mirrors of each other on more occasions than I care to remember. And although I think the glass of the mirror sometimes reflects darkly, I don’t think there’s anything more or less remarkable about our relationship. I love her and she loves me and that’s good enough.
My concern comes from the fact that a lot of my goals in life require me to examine aspects of my desires and wishes that are not even close to matching hers. And one of my greatest goals in life has always been to sail around the world. I have read dozens of books about sailors both past and present who have inspired in me. But my wife has stated that she is uninterested in stepping foot on a boat. I also have a strong desire to move to South East Alaska. I would not have a single problem spending the rest of my life in Ketchikan. It’s been a dream of mine for almost 15 years. Again it’s another thing that my wife is not interested in.
There are other personal aspects and goals that I won’t talk about here, but they have the same set of issues involved.
Please don’t misunderstand what I am saying. My wife is a wonderful person and I love her more every day. It’s just that her personal desires for what she wants from her life are different than mine. This is partly the fault of me taking so long to figure out the things I want. If we’d discussed this sort of thing at the beginning of our relationship, it wouldn’t be an issue now. I just wish I’d been smarter back then.
As to the reasons that I feel this way now - life in the last 10 years has taken on a static hue. Things don’t change much from one day to the next and after a while it gets stale. Going to work, paying bills, watching the grass grow… man. After a while it gets maddening. Some people wait until they retire to try to fit this kind of searching into their lives. But since retirement is at least 30 years away (should I choose to have a career to retire from instead of just holding jobs) it makes no sense to wait. At this point all I really want is a job that helps pay for the lifestyle I want to live. Or to build up my businesses to the point where I can do them no matter where I am.
It’s one of the reasons that I am so drawn to writing. All I really need is a pencil and piece of paper. This laptop is nice, but it’s just a tool. If I can pull my head out of my ass long enough to get back in touch with the part of me that knows how to tell cool stories then I know I will be fine. But I really think that its going to take something drastic like a trip around the world to wake that part of me up again.
Daily, everyday life puts the best part of us to sleep. Think I’m wrong? How often do you go after your goals now compared to how you were 10 years ago? 15 years ago? I’ll bet that it’s less now than it was then. Life tends to get in the way. You get buried in just trying to survive and goals or dreams go right out the window.
I do know a few people who are going after their goals and winning awards in the process. But they are in the MINORITY. The great mass of humanity never gets to achieve even 10% of their dreams. It’s sad to contemplate.
But it’s also very motivational.
When you stare into the mirror, the only one looking back is the real you. The part you can’t lie to. It see’s all of the darkness and light that exists inside you. I don’t care how fast you run; you will NEVER outrun the littlest voice inside. The one that only accepts the truth about the life you live. You can’t bullshit that voice. It knows better. It doesn’t fall for the crap coming from your ego. It doesn’t accept the ‘facts’ pushed on you by people from outside your own mind. If you are overweight, you know it. If you are cheating on your spouse, you know it. If your life is less than what you want, you know it. And that little voice will beat you half to death with the truth until you either do something about it, or jump out a window.
Turn on the news for a few minutes. I’ll wait…
See what I mean? It doesn’t matter where you live. There are thousands of unhappy people all over. They get Andy Warhol’s famous 15 minutes in the worst possible way. And of course the media is there to completely glamorize the event in sparking light and HD sound.
So, facing that alternative, why not make some decisions that are just for you? Decide to be happy, follow your own path. It may cost some things or relationships in the short run. But since you only get to live once, the risk is worth it.
The single greatest one is the possibility that I might discover my core values and desires don’t match that of my wife or the people I currently know. It’s frightening to think that I might realize who I am inside is not in alignment with the life I’ve been living for the last 20 odd years.
I’m deliberately not going back any further because 17 years ago when I met my current wife, I was another person on a completely different path in life. It’s almost like my old life truly ended and I was reborn as the man I am now. That’s how I had to treat it to survive my divorce with some sense of myself still intact.
So for purposes of this thought experiment, I am not going to worry about anything that happened before 1990. With the exception of thinking about my oldest son, I try very hard not to revisit that period of time anyway.
Since 1990 I’ve been married to a wonderful woman. We have been compared to mirrors of each other on more occasions than I care to remember. And although I think the glass of the mirror sometimes reflects darkly, I don’t think there’s anything more or less remarkable about our relationship. I love her and she loves me and that’s good enough.
My concern comes from the fact that a lot of my goals in life require me to examine aspects of my desires and wishes that are not even close to matching hers. And one of my greatest goals in life has always been to sail around the world. I have read dozens of books about sailors both past and present who have inspired in me. But my wife has stated that she is uninterested in stepping foot on a boat. I also have a strong desire to move to South East Alaska. I would not have a single problem spending the rest of my life in Ketchikan. It’s been a dream of mine for almost 15 years. Again it’s another thing that my wife is not interested in.
There are other personal aspects and goals that I won’t talk about here, but they have the same set of issues involved.
Please don’t misunderstand what I am saying. My wife is a wonderful person and I love her more every day. It’s just that her personal desires for what she wants from her life are different than mine. This is partly the fault of me taking so long to figure out the things I want. If we’d discussed this sort of thing at the beginning of our relationship, it wouldn’t be an issue now. I just wish I’d been smarter back then.
As to the reasons that I feel this way now - life in the last 10 years has taken on a static hue. Things don’t change much from one day to the next and after a while it gets stale. Going to work, paying bills, watching the grass grow… man. After a while it gets maddening. Some people wait until they retire to try to fit this kind of searching into their lives. But since retirement is at least 30 years away (should I choose to have a career to retire from instead of just holding jobs) it makes no sense to wait. At this point all I really want is a job that helps pay for the lifestyle I want to live. Or to build up my businesses to the point where I can do them no matter where I am.
It’s one of the reasons that I am so drawn to writing. All I really need is a pencil and piece of paper. This laptop is nice, but it’s just a tool. If I can pull my head out of my ass long enough to get back in touch with the part of me that knows how to tell cool stories then I know I will be fine. But I really think that its going to take something drastic like a trip around the world to wake that part of me up again.
Daily, everyday life puts the best part of us to sleep. Think I’m wrong? How often do you go after your goals now compared to how you were 10 years ago? 15 years ago? I’ll bet that it’s less now than it was then. Life tends to get in the way. You get buried in just trying to survive and goals or dreams go right out the window.
I do know a few people who are going after their goals and winning awards in the process. But they are in the MINORITY. The great mass of humanity never gets to achieve even 10% of their dreams. It’s sad to contemplate.
But it’s also very motivational.
When you stare into the mirror, the only one looking back is the real you. The part you can’t lie to. It see’s all of the darkness and light that exists inside you. I don’t care how fast you run; you will NEVER outrun the littlest voice inside. The one that only accepts the truth about the life you live. You can’t bullshit that voice. It knows better. It doesn’t fall for the crap coming from your ego. It doesn’t accept the ‘facts’ pushed on you by people from outside your own mind. If you are overweight, you know it. If you are cheating on your spouse, you know it. If your life is less than what you want, you know it. And that little voice will beat you half to death with the truth until you either do something about it, or jump out a window.
Turn on the news for a few minutes. I’ll wait…
See what I mean? It doesn’t matter where you live. There are thousands of unhappy people all over. They get Andy Warhol’s famous 15 minutes in the worst possible way. And of course the media is there to completely glamorize the event in sparking light and HD sound.
So, facing that alternative, why not make some decisions that are just for you? Decide to be happy, follow your own path. It may cost some things or relationships in the short run. But since you only get to live once, the risk is worth it.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
The voice or the echo?
When you are a child, the adults in your life control your every move.
You are told what to do, what not to do, what to think and what to believe is true about the world around you.
Your opinion matters only in how closely aligned it is with the caregivers needs. Don't believe me? Look at the children that might be in your life (or your friends’ children if you don't have any). How often does a parent truly pay attention to what that child is saying? And, even more telling, how often does that parent take to heart or act on the information?
Now, granted, you might be thinking that the parent doesn't act on it since the words are coming from an unformed, immature and undisciplined mind. But think this through - how often have you seen a child spend hours on a task that doesn't make sense to you? And yet that child has the discipline to see the project through. (It doesn't matter what it is or if it even works, that's not the point) I can't count the number of adults who don't have 1/10th that discipline.
As a result of all that parental control one of two things will happen. The child will eventually rebel against the perceived lack of internal control of their life. They will then begin to distrust everything that comes out of the mouth of any 'adult'. This includes family members, teachers, bosses, friends, police, or any other authority figure. People who take this path tend to lead lives that do not include a load of circumscribed rules. They will follow their own internal voices to whatever destiny awaits. Hopefully it is one that is in alignment with who they are inside and therefore beneficial.
The other outcome is actually less desirable. The child will fall into a pattern of seeking out authority figures to help run their lives because they never feel like adults. They will gravitate to the strongest person they can find and become mired in subservient dogma. You see this time and again in people who don’t seem to have personalities of their own. They follow behind another person agreeing with everything that occurs, bad or good. You will also see this in people who don’t seem to have a style of their own. They are chameleons that morph and change according to the group they are currently with. It’s almost impossible to discern who the real person is because it’s so deeply hidden, or completely non-existent. People like this have no opinion that isn’t part of the group opinion. Get them alone and question them and it’s like talking to a wall or an advocate for someone else.
The above is one of the things that I am trying to change in my own life. I’ve caught myself doing the chameleon thing. Changing from one personality to the next depending on the group I am with.
Some of it comes from being black, but not having a lot of ‘black’ attributes. I don’t speak in slang or Ebonics. I love to read and listen to other types of music besides hip-hop or rap. I am a huge science fiction and fantasy fan. Some of my favorite characters include the X-Men, SpongeBob, and hobbits.
When I am in a group of black males I bury all of this. I don’t let any of it show. My vocal intonations change. I use slang or cuss a lot. I drink too much. Everything that makes up the real me is completely submerged in order to either fit in or avoid being judged. My sense of humor becomes cruder and even what I think is on a different level. I do this because I am tired of being told that I ‘act white’.
When I am around a white or educated crowd, I am much more reserved and quiet. My encyclopedic knowledge of Star Trek trivia rolls off my tongue. My speech patterns contain no slang, no Ebonics, and no deliberately mispronounced words. I talk about music and technology and writing. Of course, I do a bit more nodding my head. This is because I know that I am not the sharpest knife in the block and I usually need a moment or two to formulate a witty response. I do this because I am then thought of as ‘well spoken.’
In a mixed crowd, I sort of combine the two. I use more slang and my humor becomes kind of crude again. But it’s more controlled. I watch what I say carefully, gauging my response to the type of crowd. I talk about the weather and taking care of my house and other safe subjects. I do this because I am then thought of as a ‘good host’.
Where does all this come from? Perhaps as part of a childhood that included being shuttled back and forth between parents. Maybe it’s from going between the hood and the subdivision. Or maybe it’s from the lessons learned moving from an urban area, to a rural area to the suburban area of central California. I don’t know and at this point it really doesn’t matter. I’m not a child anymore. But there are times that I still feel myself slipping into that long ago role.
The voice or the echo? Every time I get into a conversation with a new person I wonder which one I am.
You are told what to do, what not to do, what to think and what to believe is true about the world around you.
Your opinion matters only in how closely aligned it is with the caregivers needs. Don't believe me? Look at the children that might be in your life (or your friends’ children if you don't have any). How often does a parent truly pay attention to what that child is saying? And, even more telling, how often does that parent take to heart or act on the information?
Now, granted, you might be thinking that the parent doesn't act on it since the words are coming from an unformed, immature and undisciplined mind. But think this through - how often have you seen a child spend hours on a task that doesn't make sense to you? And yet that child has the discipline to see the project through. (It doesn't matter what it is or if it even works, that's not the point) I can't count the number of adults who don't have 1/10th that discipline.
As a result of all that parental control one of two things will happen. The child will eventually rebel against the perceived lack of internal control of their life. They will then begin to distrust everything that comes out of the mouth of any 'adult'. This includes family members, teachers, bosses, friends, police, or any other authority figure. People who take this path tend to lead lives that do not include a load of circumscribed rules. They will follow their own internal voices to whatever destiny awaits. Hopefully it is one that is in alignment with who they are inside and therefore beneficial.
The other outcome is actually less desirable. The child will fall into a pattern of seeking out authority figures to help run their lives because they never feel like adults. They will gravitate to the strongest person they can find and become mired in subservient dogma. You see this time and again in people who don’t seem to have personalities of their own. They follow behind another person agreeing with everything that occurs, bad or good. You will also see this in people who don’t seem to have a style of their own. They are chameleons that morph and change according to the group they are currently with. It’s almost impossible to discern who the real person is because it’s so deeply hidden, or completely non-existent. People like this have no opinion that isn’t part of the group opinion. Get them alone and question them and it’s like talking to a wall or an advocate for someone else.
The above is one of the things that I am trying to change in my own life. I’ve caught myself doing the chameleon thing. Changing from one personality to the next depending on the group I am with.
Some of it comes from being black, but not having a lot of ‘black’ attributes. I don’t speak in slang or Ebonics. I love to read and listen to other types of music besides hip-hop or rap. I am a huge science fiction and fantasy fan. Some of my favorite characters include the X-Men, SpongeBob, and hobbits.
When I am in a group of black males I bury all of this. I don’t let any of it show. My vocal intonations change. I use slang or cuss a lot. I drink too much. Everything that makes up the real me is completely submerged in order to either fit in or avoid being judged. My sense of humor becomes cruder and even what I think is on a different level. I do this because I am tired of being told that I ‘act white’.
When I am around a white or educated crowd, I am much more reserved and quiet. My encyclopedic knowledge of Star Trek trivia rolls off my tongue. My speech patterns contain no slang, no Ebonics, and no deliberately mispronounced words. I talk about music and technology and writing. Of course, I do a bit more nodding my head. This is because I know that I am not the sharpest knife in the block and I usually need a moment or two to formulate a witty response. I do this because I am then thought of as ‘well spoken.’
In a mixed crowd, I sort of combine the two. I use more slang and my humor becomes kind of crude again. But it’s more controlled. I watch what I say carefully, gauging my response to the type of crowd. I talk about the weather and taking care of my house and other safe subjects. I do this because I am then thought of as a ‘good host’.
Where does all this come from? Perhaps as part of a childhood that included being shuttled back and forth between parents. Maybe it’s from going between the hood and the subdivision. Or maybe it’s from the lessons learned moving from an urban area, to a rural area to the suburban area of central California. I don’t know and at this point it really doesn’t matter. I’m not a child anymore. But there are times that I still feel myself slipping into that long ago role.
The voice or the echo? Every time I get into a conversation with a new person I wonder which one I am.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Still working on focus
I promised myself that this year would be about focus. The theme and the goal for the whole year were to finally gain some sort of focus and clarity in my life.
I’ve become aware of death stalking me like a black panther in the jungle. It waits and watches and pulls no punches when it’s time to gather you up. The only solace I can draw from this short life is that I tried to live it the way I wanted to.
The trick is to figure out exactly what that means. Since focus is the key, I have to know how I want to live my life. What do I want to do? What experiences matter most?
When I was a kid I wanted adventure. Exploration and discovery around every corner. It didn’t matter if the venue was the depths of space or the deepest ocean trenches. I wanted to experience the world like the great names of the past – Magellan, Cortez, Pizzaro, Lewis & Clark, Marco Polo, Peary, and Byrd. I used to think of the world as a big, mysterious place full of danger and excitement. And I believed that it was all for the taking. Nothing was impossible for the man or woman who believed.
And then I grew up and discovered that all life really seems to consist of is replaying the same shit that your parents went through, or your friends. You get older, finish high school, go to college, get married, have kids, buy a house, get buried in credit card debt and car payments. The only real adventure that most adult Americans ever experience is keeping ahead of the tax man and the lease company. I can’t speak on how it is in other countries around the world. I did live in Germany and Korea for a while, but since I am really well versed in the ways of my American life, the experience was slightly tainted.
When I was in Germany I did try to hang out with the natives more than some of my friends. I went to German bars and hangouts where no one spoke English. As a result I learned German fairly quickly and I got to know people on a personal level. But that was over 20 years ago. I’m sure the things I did learn were only a tiny portion of the reality of their lives. One thing I did learn and hold on to was that the Germans I met weren’t all that different from me. Yeah, they spoke a different language and had different favorite foods. But they had the same worries about money and family and nuclear war.
As I’ve grown older the meaning of ‘living it my way’ has come to mean finding a path that’s mine. Not one someone told me about or suggested I try. I’ve had a lot of wonderful people in my life who are convinced that I want them to tell me what I should do. That’s partly my fault. I’ve asked questions when I should have just been doing. I guess they just figured that since I was asking questions it was okay to tell me what to do instead of giving me the advise I was really looking for.
At first I didn’t see any reason to reinvent the wheel when it comes to avoiding mistakes. Now I see that a bit of reinventing is required in order to have a life that is strictly unique. I look at what some of my former heroes have done and I can see that they followed a path that usually led to them being laughed at or talked about. People with true courage don’t follow ANYONE. They do what their heart tells them is right and eventually, that ends up being the case. My heroes include:
Captain Bill Pinkney - the first black man in history to circumnavigate the globe alone in a sailboat.
Captain Jacques Yves Cousteau – a pioneer of exploration and invention involving the ocean.
Albert Einstein – just the name says it all.
Charles Darwin – the English naturalist that gave us the basis for the evolution of the species and challenged purely religious way of thinking.
Sam Cooke – the incredible voice behind my favorite song of all time ‘A change is gonna come’
This isn’t the entire list, but they are the ones who flash through my head most often. I don’t want to be any of them, but I want to live my life with the same conviction that they did. I think that’s the real reason I started this blog in the first place.
Everyone is searching for the same thing. I think everyone is born into that sense of wonder about the huge thing around them called the world. Some differences are to be expected, but since all humans live and die - sometimes at the most basic of circumstances - we are really more alike than we are different. So it doesn’t matter if you are from Pulaski, Arkansas or Bangladesh. Our worries and needs are the same.
So since none of us are all that different, why is it that the mysterious, magical world has become such a dangerous thing? Doesn’t everyone want the same feeling of freedom and safety? I would think that at this point in our evolution as a species we would get that we all live together or we all die together.
And the desire to control your life is the same.
I’ve become aware of death stalking me like a black panther in the jungle. It waits and watches and pulls no punches when it’s time to gather you up. The only solace I can draw from this short life is that I tried to live it the way I wanted to.
The trick is to figure out exactly what that means. Since focus is the key, I have to know how I want to live my life. What do I want to do? What experiences matter most?
When I was a kid I wanted adventure. Exploration and discovery around every corner. It didn’t matter if the venue was the depths of space or the deepest ocean trenches. I wanted to experience the world like the great names of the past – Magellan, Cortez, Pizzaro, Lewis & Clark, Marco Polo, Peary, and Byrd. I used to think of the world as a big, mysterious place full of danger and excitement. And I believed that it was all for the taking. Nothing was impossible for the man or woman who believed.
And then I grew up and discovered that all life really seems to consist of is replaying the same shit that your parents went through, or your friends. You get older, finish high school, go to college, get married, have kids, buy a house, get buried in credit card debt and car payments. The only real adventure that most adult Americans ever experience is keeping ahead of the tax man and the lease company. I can’t speak on how it is in other countries around the world. I did live in Germany and Korea for a while, but since I am really well versed in the ways of my American life, the experience was slightly tainted.
When I was in Germany I did try to hang out with the natives more than some of my friends. I went to German bars and hangouts where no one spoke English. As a result I learned German fairly quickly and I got to know people on a personal level. But that was over 20 years ago. I’m sure the things I did learn were only a tiny portion of the reality of their lives. One thing I did learn and hold on to was that the Germans I met weren’t all that different from me. Yeah, they spoke a different language and had different favorite foods. But they had the same worries about money and family and nuclear war.
As I’ve grown older the meaning of ‘living it my way’ has come to mean finding a path that’s mine. Not one someone told me about or suggested I try. I’ve had a lot of wonderful people in my life who are convinced that I want them to tell me what I should do. That’s partly my fault. I’ve asked questions when I should have just been doing. I guess they just figured that since I was asking questions it was okay to tell me what to do instead of giving me the advise I was really looking for.
At first I didn’t see any reason to reinvent the wheel when it comes to avoiding mistakes. Now I see that a bit of reinventing is required in order to have a life that is strictly unique. I look at what some of my former heroes have done and I can see that they followed a path that usually led to them being laughed at or talked about. People with true courage don’t follow ANYONE. They do what their heart tells them is right and eventually, that ends up being the case. My heroes include:
Captain Bill Pinkney - the first black man in history to circumnavigate the globe alone in a sailboat.
Captain Jacques Yves Cousteau – a pioneer of exploration and invention involving the ocean.
Albert Einstein – just the name says it all.
Charles Darwin – the English naturalist that gave us the basis for the evolution of the species and challenged purely religious way of thinking.
Sam Cooke – the incredible voice behind my favorite song of all time ‘A change is gonna come’
This isn’t the entire list, but they are the ones who flash through my head most often. I don’t want to be any of them, but I want to live my life with the same conviction that they did. I think that’s the real reason I started this blog in the first place.
Everyone is searching for the same thing. I think everyone is born into that sense of wonder about the huge thing around them called the world. Some differences are to be expected, but since all humans live and die - sometimes at the most basic of circumstances - we are really more alike than we are different. So it doesn’t matter if you are from Pulaski, Arkansas or Bangladesh. Our worries and needs are the same.
So since none of us are all that different, why is it that the mysterious, magical world has become such a dangerous thing? Doesn’t everyone want the same feeling of freedom and safety? I would think that at this point in our evolution as a species we would get that we all live together or we all die together.
And the desire to control your life is the same.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Happiness...for real??
How do you gauge happiness? It’s one thing that I’ve always had problems defining in my own life.
Is how much money you have or who you sleep with a measure of happiness? In my experience - no. The buzz wears off fairly quickly with both of those. Money is just a tool. Once you get what you want with the tool, it’s served its purpose. And sex is the ultimate transitory delight. The glow lasts only as long as it takes to get to a shower.
So those two biggies aren’t capstones. They matter, but long term they aren’t everything.
Okay, how about health? Health is important on so many levels. How you treat yourself is tantamount to how you will treat everyone that you meet in your life. If your health doesn’t matter to you, chances are you don’t care about others either. Health includes a strong body and clear mind. Definite hallmarks of happiness. So there’s one.
What else is left? A high paying job. Really?
A job as a way to happiness seems like an oxymoron. Jobs are defined as –
1. a piece of work, esp. a specific task done as part of the routine of one's occupation or for an agreed price
2. a post of employment; full-time or part-time position
3. anything a person is expected or obliged to do; duty; responsibility
I don’t know about you, but I’ve never found duties or tasks to be particularly happy endeavors. While they can be fulfilling, they generally aren’t much fun. There are exceptions, like everything else in life. But the average tasks involved in holding a job are as far from fun as the sun is from the Earth. Not to mention that the average ‘high paying job’ also comes with high stress, long hours, skipped family events, perhaps long travel and the ever present potential for loneliness. If I have to choose between a 6 figure income that keeps me from seeing my children and wife, and a 5 figure income that has me coming home every night, well it’s plain to me. People have made due on less for thousands of years.
And I think that’s one of the best things about this current economic crisis. People are once again realizing that the simple things in life are usually the best. Being able to hold a barbeque for close friends and family on your deck during a sunny Saturday afternoon beats chasing after any amount of money.
Perhaps it’s naïve of me to think this way, but I really mean it. The ability to enjoy what I have instead of constantly running after more is probably the closest to a definition of happiness that makes sense. I’ve known a few people who are in the $200 - $300K earnings range, and though they have a lot of things, they always seem stressed out to me.
So jobs fall into the NO category. But just working through that knot brought up something useful. The ability to share time with friends and family can produce happiness. Even if your family is sometimes obnoxious. Heck, the last time I checked, I wasn’t perfect either.
How about things? Acquisitions, goodies, purchases, whatever you want to call them. Getting things seems to make some people really happy, right? New houses, multiple cars, trips all over the world, private jets and being able to rent out an entire club for the night. The essence of life portrayed in the Dirty South. I’m sure it makes people really happy all the time.
Whoops. I guess I forgot about the rap stars that are facing 30 years for gun charges. Oh, and I forgot about the sports stars who have incurable deadly diseases. Then there are the music superstars who put loaded shotguns in their mouths while high and pull the trigger with their toes. And not to be left out are the company CEO’s facing federal indictment for fraud. But, why wouldn’t they be happy? They have every material thing that a human (or any group of humans) would want. Surely they are happy. These are people who can buy and sell entire countries. They wipe their asses with $100 bills and spend my mortgage in the VIP room in less than 20 minutes. I’m sure I’ve missed something. These people must to be happy.
Right?
Okay, so I’ve covered money, sex, jobs and material wealth. What’s left?
How about family?
Yes it’s true; your family can help make you happy. I am usually most content when my children and my wife are at home getting on each other’s nerves, playing games, eating or otherwise interacting with each other. Despite all of my faults and empty spaces, I do truly love my little family. My kids have all of the sibling rivalry bells and whistles and the attendant drama. Arguments about food, clothes, the phone, the computers, more food, who left the mess in the kitchen, (and then more food), are common and to be honest - very welcome.
My household is alive and vibrant. Energy flows freely from these young adults who are finding their way in the world and I am very proud of all of them. My wife and I have a full relationship, laughing, loving, arguing, making up, cooking dinner and sitting on the couch together enjoying a movie. We travel a lot as a family and have managed to ‘collect’ quite a few state parks in the 7 years we’ve been in Georgia. We enjoy being outdoors just as much as in. So in the scheme of things we are pretty typical.
Every time I start to wonder if I will ever be happy, an image pops into my mind. We will sometimes eat dinner on a spread sheet in the living room. We’ve been doing this on and off since the kids were little. Usually this occurs when we are watching some sort of family movie. And then, after dinner is done, we all place bets on how long it will be before my wife falls asleep and misses the end of the movie. This little tableau always brings a smile to my face.
It’s at these moments when I feel closest to being happy. Of course, like everything else, the moment is transitory. Still, family gets a huge nod.
So let’s tally up:
Money, sex, jobs, things – 0
Wife & Kids, good health – 1
Seems like kind of a no brainer, eh?
Is how much money you have or who you sleep with a measure of happiness? In my experience - no. The buzz wears off fairly quickly with both of those. Money is just a tool. Once you get what you want with the tool, it’s served its purpose. And sex is the ultimate transitory delight. The glow lasts only as long as it takes to get to a shower.
So those two biggies aren’t capstones. They matter, but long term they aren’t everything.
Okay, how about health? Health is important on so many levels. How you treat yourself is tantamount to how you will treat everyone that you meet in your life. If your health doesn’t matter to you, chances are you don’t care about others either. Health includes a strong body and clear mind. Definite hallmarks of happiness. So there’s one.
What else is left? A high paying job. Really?
A job as a way to happiness seems like an oxymoron. Jobs are defined as –
1. a piece of work, esp. a specific task done as part of the routine of one's occupation or for an agreed price
2. a post of employment; full-time or part-time position
3. anything a person is expected or obliged to do; duty; responsibility
I don’t know about you, but I’ve never found duties or tasks to be particularly happy endeavors. While they can be fulfilling, they generally aren’t much fun. There are exceptions, like everything else in life. But the average tasks involved in holding a job are as far from fun as the sun is from the Earth. Not to mention that the average ‘high paying job’ also comes with high stress, long hours, skipped family events, perhaps long travel and the ever present potential for loneliness. If I have to choose between a 6 figure income that keeps me from seeing my children and wife, and a 5 figure income that has me coming home every night, well it’s plain to me. People have made due on less for thousands of years.
And I think that’s one of the best things about this current economic crisis. People are once again realizing that the simple things in life are usually the best. Being able to hold a barbeque for close friends and family on your deck during a sunny Saturday afternoon beats chasing after any amount of money.
Perhaps it’s naïve of me to think this way, but I really mean it. The ability to enjoy what I have instead of constantly running after more is probably the closest to a definition of happiness that makes sense. I’ve known a few people who are in the $200 - $300K earnings range, and though they have a lot of things, they always seem stressed out to me.
So jobs fall into the NO category. But just working through that knot brought up something useful. The ability to share time with friends and family can produce happiness. Even if your family is sometimes obnoxious. Heck, the last time I checked, I wasn’t perfect either.
How about things? Acquisitions, goodies, purchases, whatever you want to call them. Getting things seems to make some people really happy, right? New houses, multiple cars, trips all over the world, private jets and being able to rent out an entire club for the night. The essence of life portrayed in the Dirty South. I’m sure it makes people really happy all the time.
Whoops. I guess I forgot about the rap stars that are facing 30 years for gun charges. Oh, and I forgot about the sports stars who have incurable deadly diseases. Then there are the music superstars who put loaded shotguns in their mouths while high and pull the trigger with their toes. And not to be left out are the company CEO’s facing federal indictment for fraud. But, why wouldn’t they be happy? They have every material thing that a human (or any group of humans) would want. Surely they are happy. These are people who can buy and sell entire countries. They wipe their asses with $100 bills and spend my mortgage in the VIP room in less than 20 minutes. I’m sure I’ve missed something. These people must to be happy.
Right?
Okay, so I’ve covered money, sex, jobs and material wealth. What’s left?
How about family?
Yes it’s true; your family can help make you happy. I am usually most content when my children and my wife are at home getting on each other’s nerves, playing games, eating or otherwise interacting with each other. Despite all of my faults and empty spaces, I do truly love my little family. My kids have all of the sibling rivalry bells and whistles and the attendant drama. Arguments about food, clothes, the phone, the computers, more food, who left the mess in the kitchen, (and then more food), are common and to be honest - very welcome.
My household is alive and vibrant. Energy flows freely from these young adults who are finding their way in the world and I am very proud of all of them. My wife and I have a full relationship, laughing, loving, arguing, making up, cooking dinner and sitting on the couch together enjoying a movie. We travel a lot as a family and have managed to ‘collect’ quite a few state parks in the 7 years we’ve been in Georgia. We enjoy being outdoors just as much as in. So in the scheme of things we are pretty typical.
Every time I start to wonder if I will ever be happy, an image pops into my mind. We will sometimes eat dinner on a spread sheet in the living room. We’ve been doing this on and off since the kids were little. Usually this occurs when we are watching some sort of family movie. And then, after dinner is done, we all place bets on how long it will be before my wife falls asleep and misses the end of the movie. This little tableau always brings a smile to my face.
It’s at these moments when I feel closest to being happy. Of course, like everything else, the moment is transitory. Still, family gets a huge nod.
So let’s tally up:
Money, sex, jobs, things – 0
Wife & Kids, good health – 1
Seems like kind of a no brainer, eh?
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