Missed Opportunities
For several years, as I tried to cut the apron strings, I sought to have a conversation with my Mom. It was my desire to identify the elephant in the room. Unfortunately for her, the terror of this prospect was too large and she went to her grave without experiencing the freedom of truth. It was unfortunate for me too, as she missed a great opportunity to help her first-born son move out of the generational curses of dysfunction.
I forgave her long ago, but I would have liked to better understand where that pain came from and why it was passed on to me. Most of my attempts to resolve these issues resulted in tears, shouting, yelling, and more tears. I would then go lick my wounds in the pit of the addiction du jour. There was even a time of silence that lasted almost a year, while I waited for her to listen (“just listen!” to me. I now realize the pain was too great for her to bear.
Last year, I made an attempt to have a similar conversation with my Dad. With my Mom now gone, I realized that there were issues with my Dad, but they had always been overshadowed by my Mom’s need to control and manipulate my destiny. So, knowing that any conversation that doesn’t involved heavy equipment or baseball is difficult with my Dad, I wrote him this letter (slightly modified to prevent TMI). Take a moment to look at the letter, then come back here (I’ll wait).
My Special Purpose: three epiphanies
For as long as I can remember, I’ve known I would write, I can write, and I should write. The intense real-world dynamics inhibit my true ability to converse in any kind of way that even comes close to approximating what’s in my head, but when I take the time to write, it seems as if the words flow onto the screen in perfect harmony. For the past 30 years, I’ve thought about writing a book; however, who wants to read thoughts from some wet-behind-the-ears punk 20 year old? Not me, and most certainly my Mom would have been my only reader.
Fast forward 30 years and now you have a man of experience, reputation, and mistake-laden
wisdom. I’ve lived more life than most people have a right to and I’ve made more mistakes than a cat with 15 lives. So, it would only be natural for me to want to save others from the abysmal choices I’ve made. Yet, what about the lessons I’ve learned? What about the positive choices? What about the opportunities to reinvent oneself? That’s where I’m feeling led to take this blog.
I had three epiphanies recently:
- #1 Wait for it. I have a group that I met with last Sunday afternoon. They tell me they want more of my time. They tell me they want to grow. They tell me they want to do whatever it takes. As long as they can keep doing things the same way they’ve always done it. “Huh?!” I told them: “If you keep doing the things you’ve always done, you’ll keep getting what you’ve always got.” Now it was their turn to say, “huh?”
So, as I introspected on this meeting, I came to the conclusion that one (OK, I) can’t force people. If they don’t want to do what it takes, I won’t push. I’ll wait for the invitation. This goes for relationships, friendships, family dynamics, business relationships, corporate policies, et cetera, et cetera. But, in the meantime, I won’t enable their poor choices either.
- #2 Feed Myself. Sometimes, well, too often, I rely on my networks to feed me. I get my self worth from the outside. It is my popularity and external affirmations that give me the energy to proceed in this mad, mad world. Generally speaking, I come away from consultations (like last Sunday’s) feeling drained, down, and discouraged.
“How could they dis me like that?” I say with genuine remorse.
What’s interesting to me is to realize they were not necessarily dissing me as much as they were recoiling in fear. It’s their issue, their fear, and their own insecurities. I don’t need them to agree with me. Their affirmation doesn’t make me right, just as their lack of acceptance doesn’t make me wrong.
This thought immediately translated to my Twitter (and the broader online network) community. Instead of going to Twitter to be fed, maybe I can bring something to the table? Besides, I’ve found that those who don’t keep score (even in their own heads) are usually the most well liked.
- #3 Share from my strengths. Last week I wrote about the terrific Father’s Day I shared with my
family. A week or so 
before that, I wrote about an incredible day at the beach. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine the trappings of marriage and family life (pun intended) would be so totally cool! Then I got some positive comments on those posts and some new Twitter followers. Maybe I do have something to share?
It wasn’t that long ago that I envisioned happiness to involve sex, drugs, and 
rock’n roll. This husband and father role is very cool though. I’m amazed however how few people understand that. I’m amazed at how many fathers have abdicated their roles and how messed up that leaves their kids.
Last night I stopped at Burgerville to use their wi-fi and satiate my carnivorous appetite. On the way out I saw this family unit. A frail, emaciated, meth-addicted dad, pacing the floor; a sullen, reclusive mom, with her head down – revealing her shame; and a 10 year old daughter, escaping into a world of pocket video games. It broke my heart. It did.
I love being a dad, I love being a husband, I love my life, and I am making great progre
ss in recovering from some poor choices I made out of my pain a couple of decades ago. So, why not share?
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have it all figured out. I still make plenty of mistakes (#afterhours anyone?), but I think these are some the strengths I can share: transparency, authenticity, relevancy, and realness.
So, like Navin Johnson, I’ve found my Special Purpose. Hopefully I can do more with mine than he did with his…
Serendipitious Explorations on Father’s Day
I love being a dad. I’ve told people that if I knew it was going to be this much fun, I’d have found my wife and married her a lot sooner. I’ve been a Dad for over three years now. It is a learning, growing experience. I
believe I’ve learned more in the past three years than I have in the entire 49+ I’ve been alive. I cannot even begin to explain the love I have for my kids.
Today was my third Father’s Day, and the first one with two kids. It was my son’s first Father’s Day. Let me tell you, it started out great!
First, they let me sleep in until the crack of Noon. Ah, sleep! Then, as I stumbled from the bedroom, I smelled delicious peanut butter cookies, hot from the oven. My daughter was so excited to share “her” creation with me that she ran right past me – forgetting the ritual good morning hug – and running straight to the cookies. She was very excited!
Next we loaded up the car and headed out to Sauvies Island; a small farming community on a island in the Columbia River. But we took the long way, up over the hillside overlooking Rainier. From the top of Neer City Road we can see Mt. Rainier, Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Adams, and Mt. Hood. (I took this photo with my phone.)
On Sauvies Island we went to the Pumpkin Patch Farm where we rode a very scary (literally) train which was being pulled by a large ATV, driven by a 15 year old girl with no fear for our safety. We went on the inflatable slide, picked strawberries in the field (this brought back lots of childhood memories), looked at farm animals, and generally had a good time.
After that we drove on down to St. Johns, a small community in North Portland. We ate a delicious dinner at Proper Eats, a vegan restaurant that had incredible food! Raleigh was able to lie on the sidewalk next to us as we ate. Our interest was piqued when we saw people carrying musical instruments into the cafe. So we decided to check them out. Boy, are we glad we did.
Blackberry Jam is an eclectic (is that word redundant in Portland?) group of musicians, young and old, male and female, they rotated around and took turns playing different instruments. They played folk, blues, and bluegrass. We had an absolutely great time. It was the perfect musical venue for kids to be exposed to great music!
Afterward, we talked to the musicians and we’re going to see about getting them out to Columbia County. They are good people and fun to be around. As the leader of the groups labeled it, when he found out we stumbled across them, he called it serendipitous.
Driving home, I kept thanking my family for a great Father’s Day. I feel spoiled. I feel loved. I feel rewarded.
I have come to realize that half the fun of a gift, is immersing myself in it, embracing it, and making myself available. I don’t think I experienced times like that with my Dad, and I certainly don’t think I could be vulnerable enough to do this in my past. It is a good feeling to be loved. It is a good thing to be in the moment. I love my adorable family – they are the best!
Confessing my Dad Attitude 