Our Little Flower is Blooming
My Darling Daughter is four years old today.
Four years ago today, my wife, my newborn daughter, and I hosted a steady stream of visitors in the sanctuary of the hospital birthing room. We were shell-shocked, sleep-deprived, and in awe. Until that morning, I never really understood what an amazing woman I had married and the feelings I would experience as a Dad. As I’ve written before, women generally start bonding with the child they carry within about 33 seconds of conception. We guys are a little slower to catch the wave.
People talk about how great it is to be a parent, but I couldn’t really grasp the concept. However, in the last four years I’ve come to really appreciate how truly cool it is to be the Daddy!
In the last four years I’ve been motivated to be less selfish, less of a workaholic, and more focused on passing a strong legacy onto my kids. I’m less motivated to make compromises in my time, my attention, my health, and my journey. I am more motivated to overcome the addictions and dysfunctions that have been handed down in the form of generational curses. I am more motivated to support my beautiful wife for the time, energy, and passion she puts into our kids.
It used to be that a child’s first birthday was a major milestone. So many kids never lived long enough to experience that first birthday. Disease, accidents, and the environment all took their toll on the lives of kids. Our DD’s first birthday was special, as was the second and third, but this fourth birthday carries some weight that I don’t fully understand at this point. In fact, I’m feeling a bit melancholy today.
It is exciting to see her grow up. She is quite bright, very cute, and very articulate. While my opinion and feelings may be a bit biased, I do think that we have a special little girl in our midst. At the same time, she is stubborn, independent, and willful – all traits she lovingly inherited from me. (I’m sorry Darling Daughter)
On the other hand, there is a part of me that grieves this birthday. As my 78 year-old Canadian uncle asked last night, “Do you know how long it takes to get from four to forty?”
“In the blink of an eye,” I replied.
That’s it. I remember being four. I don’t remember much before that, but I remember being four – and it wasn’t that long ago. I remember being 14, and the trauma of adolescents. 24 was an interesting time, as was 34 and 44. It won’t be long before I begin to think that 44 year olds look really young and vibrant.
Each year, each decade, each experience removed a layer of innocence. At four years old, I was invincible, unscathed, and lived in each moment. I abosorbed each moment with no care about the past, no fear of the future, no vision of what was around the next corner, and no hangups or baggage.
Maybe this is why I’m feeling melancholy.
It was at four years old that I had my bubble burst. I was four when kids first began to tease me for the residual scars of my facial birth defects. It was at four that I began to experience rejection to the depth of my soul. It was at four that I began to withdraw from society, in self defense of the ridicule, teasing, and bullying. Could it be that I’m projecting those feelings onto my daughter?
I don’t think I am, but it is good to introspect on that for a few moments. I think my melancholic grieving has more to do with watching our little girl grow up. Knowing that she won’t be our little girl much longer. I’d like to preserve this little sweetheart in a bottle, yet, there is still a large part of me that is really having fun watching her learn and grow. There is no way I would want to stifle that. Watching her experience the world – seeing the world through her eyes – is simply amazing. It gives me a glimpse as to why God is so thrilled to have us in His life.
I have never loved anyone like I love her. I have never experienced this kind of love in my life. Sometimes it is simply overwhelming. I cannot contain it in my heart. My Mom tried to explain it to me when I was too busy to listen and too concerned with pushing her out of my life – I just didn’t get it. It would be nice if my Mom were still alive, I’d love to tell her that I get it now.
I’d love to ask my Mom how she learned to cope with my stubborn independence. I’d love to ask her how she learned to let go and let me grow up. I’d love for her to know that I get it now – and I’d like to say thank you. I’d like to say, I love you too Mom – in a way that I’ve never felt before.
What a great gift we’ve been given. This little Darling Daughter is the most wonderful thing ever.
I continue to pray that I raise her in a way that she continues to blossom – and that I learn how to get out of the way, when the time comes.
Noise, Memory, Vision, and the Pieces
Today was noisy. In many ways, the noise just seemed to permeate my day. The most memorable of all of today’s noises were the hundreds of fans cooling the servers at Intel. I’ve been in server rooms before, but never one this big, with so many servers, with so much noise. I was left with more questions than answers.
The thing that struck me hardest however is the concept of the shear power wrapped up in the Internet. I wonder how many server arrays, how many servers, how many miles of wire, how many hard drives, how much power consumption, and how many people are employed in today’s information revolution. The machinery I saw today isn’t even involved in production. These were merely test bays. My mind cannot even grasp the immensity of the Internet.
I remember just a few years ago (around 1990) when my friend and colleague first demonstrated the World Wide Web to me. At that time, you, nor I, had never heard of Netscape, and Google was just a twinkle in someone’s neo-cortex. The Internet at that time was mostly an academic/scientific prototype, hardly used by us mere mortals (unless you used CompuServe).
I remember touring the Aloha Intel plant in the mid-80s and seeing how chips were made. At that time, I didn’t even know who Intel was, or what they did. It was unfathomable that any company would be doing what they do.
I remember my first time in Tektronix, in the mid-70s. Even a leading-edge company, like Tek, was limited in technology, at least by today’s standards. Today, as I listened to my host, @drnormal, explain the hardware, I had the strange sensation that I was living in a Sci-Fi flick. I dared realize that this was reality and that he was using actual language. It was actually surreal to me that this kind of raw processing power existed. My brain was salivating as I consumed the information. I drank it in like a thirsty man in the desert.
I left Hillsboro, and soon found myself driving through the forest of the Oregon Coast Range. The contrast was not subtle, I was no longer in the Silicon Forest, I was now in the forests of my forefathers. There was a time when men worked in the woods, falling timber and hauling it to the mill. Today, packets of data do all the work.
This photo doesn't even do justice to what I saw today. The ad-hoc organization coupled with the orderly systems and the hundreds of miles of Cat5/6 and Fiber wire. All crammed into an area about the size of a hockey rink.
Even as I sit here keying in the words, I am struck by the journey these ideas will travel. Each keystroke travels thousands of miles before you ever read them. I enter these letters and they travel the Interwebs to servers somewhere and back – then instantly appear on my screen. All of this is so fast, that I am left with the impression that my words are “typed” right onto the screen.
I remember the sound of the two-cycle engine that powered the Hurst Tool (aka: “the jaws of life“). Late at night, off the side of some lonely road and in the brush, we would work furiously to free the trapped victims of a high-speed car wreck. The smells of oil, gasoline, alcohol, blood, and that nasty little two-cycle engine would blend into one unforgettable odor. If I could replicate the smells, the sights, and the sounds for others, I’ve often wondered if it would reduce the carnage.
The red lights flashing, the spot lights creating a bubble of light, and the sound of that Hurst Tool grinding in the background. The emotion, the sickening smell of impending death, and the cold fog of the very early morning, all of this too routine to ignore.
A memory is a powerful tool for the introspective individual. The memory of those dark nights will haunt me forever. But it is the vision of the future that I grasped today that will direct my steps forward. The vision, of things not yet realized, now that is a powerful motivator.
But today, it is the memory of sound of the servers that stays with me. Data is passed from one device to the next at ever increasing speeds. The data in that room traveled a million times faster than the data to and from this PC. The data in that room was transfered over fiber-optic cables, but the data that travels into and out of my PC squeezes through a single twisted-pair of copper wire. Amazing.
I am left wondering where this is headed and the abilities that are yet to be realized. As Moore’s Law continues to be realized, I’m beginning to think that Isaac Asimov was not too far off.
What did you see today? What did you hear? What did you see in the Tomorrowland of your vision?
Blame, Resentments, and Moving Forward
Blame is a dangerous thing. Not only can it do damage to others, but often it involves lying to ourselves. It is much easier to point fingers at others and cast responsibility on “them.” And while this may satisfy us for a short time, it will come back to hurt us in the long run.
Over the course of the last year I’ve been enduring a number of struggles. They are too great to enumerate here, but suffice it to say that it was a hard year. While prone to self-examination, and doing a lot of that, I was quite easily led down the path of blame.
I blamed my situation, my friends, my circumstances, my neighbors, society, and so on and so forth”
I blamed my situation, my friends, my circumstances, my neighbors, society, and so on and so forth. Very few escaped the broad swath of blame. Now the scary part is that I didn’t realize I was doing this. I knew I was unhappy, I knew I lacked joy, and I knew that there were issues, but in typical fashion, I continued to trudge forward and ignored the consequences.
In the last month I’ve had several epiphanies that have unlocked the the doors to joy, success, and better relationships. It has really been an amazing thing and I’ve had outbursts of laughter as I’ve realized my own blindness and ignorance.
The first epiphany
The first epiphany came just a month ago. To truly understand this, you need to read, or listen to the story, Who Moved My Cheese?
Last year I was doing the job of my dreams, this year I was doing something different. Last year I had autonomy and was seeing amazing things happen, this year I had to process everything through committees. Last year I was living in a state that received 300 days a year of sunshine, this year I live in a state that gets 300 days a year of drizzle.
I first read the above book about six or seven years ago, but recently I picked up an audio copy at a second-hand store. Though I hadn’t listened to it yet, just the title reminded me of the story. It suddenly occurred to me – my cheese had been moved and I was acting like Hem and Haw. Instead of adapting as quickly as I should, I was struggling.
I laughed out loud when I realized this”
The second epiphany came a couple of weeks later. Again, it came from a book that I’d read several years ago. One Size Does Not Fit All, was one of those books I read awhile back, but it is very relevant to me now.
In my previous situation I was the leader, but in my current situation, according to McIntosh, I realize I need to be the lover. While this is a stretch for my giftedness and temperament, it is also an opportunity to grow.
Again, I laughed out loud. In fact, I laughed for a week on this one.
We knew that we were here following God’s calling, but I didn’t realize just how much of a shift it was from my previous position.
The third epiphany came in the last couple of weeks. We had an opportunity to visit our previous home and friends. It was after that visit that I realized how important those folks are to us and how much we miss them. And during the long drive home, I began to realize how many resentments I had regarding last-year’s move.
I learned through my 12-Step Journey that “expectations are premeditated resentments.” But I didn’t realize all the expectations I had accumulated over the past few years.
First, I expected to be so successful in my previous project that my employer would throw money and more resources our way. Second, I never expected to leave the home where my wife and I had settled and where my kids were born. Third, I expected things here to be different. And on and on went the missed expectations and ugly resentments.
When I began to realize all the harbored resentments in my soul, I again laughed out loud. I’ve been laughing for a couple of weeks now.”
Releasing those resentments has been very healing. In addition, I’ve been repairing some broken relationships that occurred through my building resentments.
So, in nutshell, over the course of the last month I’ve realized that my situation changed, and so do I. I realized just what my current situation is, and I’ve begun to take steps to re-educate myself and grow into the challenge. Finally, I realize how I’ve been weighed down under a load of resentment, and I’ve let go of that.
“They” say that life is a journey, and I’ve always agreed. But somehow I thought that journey should be easy – it isn’t. There are potholes and detours; roadblocks and distractions; clear sailing and storms.
While I’ve been through this part of the journey before (e.g. depression, divorce, missed hopes, and failed dreams), I feel now like I’ve learned this lesson better than I ever have before. It always makes me said to see people stuck in time and expecting something else.
I’m hoping and praying that others can move past their resentments and grasp the opportunities of the present.”
I’ve got to say, that since I learned that my cheese has been moved, discovered where to find my new cheese, and let go of the resentment that prevented that journey – I’m re-experiencing the joy of life!
“And that, has made all the difference.”
![Borrowed Ground [Explored]](https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/55068836918_9fe5c24e0e_s.jpg "Borrowed Ground [Explored]")
Confessing my Dad Attitude 