Learn to Celebrate the Miracle of Your Choices

I used to swim in regret. Or, more accurately, dog paddle and barely keep my head above a sea of regrets. Make poor choices; nearly drown in regret. This was the way for a long time going back to teenage-land. 

Throughout this process, the cliché of I wish I knew then what I know now was definitely one I played out over and over like a favorite pop song. One that I'd get burnt out on, tried not to listen to, but every time it came on I danced awkwardly like no one was watching. 

Until I realized that choices are like little miracles of learning -- good, bad, or indifferent. And even then, these value judgements are unnecessary if we are truly learning, adapting, and living a generous life of giving and accepting that encourages others to do the same. Little miracles that make us who we are in each and every moment; that we aren't the worst choices we've ever made. When my wife Amy and I were first dating, she bought me a journal that had this phrase on the cover: Celebrating the Miracle of Our Choices. That theme became part of our vows that we read to each other each year on our anniversary. 

This theme is one that only now impacts me more profoundly than when Amy and I met or when we became parents. This is because the miracle of our choices is always about the now again. Meaning, we can make a healthy difference in our own lives, the lives of our children, and the lives of others, in every miraculous choice we make. 

I know it's hard to see the positive impact we can make when we swim in regret, replaying the past over and over again and wondering what would've happened if we made another choice. Our teens are experiencing this now, which is normal, and we encourage them to stay grounded in the now of choices. 

I truly believe that, regardless of our circumstance, every moment is a new opportunity to learn from our past choices and play it forward today. Learn to celebrate the miracle of your choices. The impact can be a profound cascade of positive and healthy living.

Happy New Year and blessings to you and yours.

Believe To Become

Beatrice started the old stop-motion animated The Little Drummer Boy. 

"I've never watched this one," she said. "Did you used to watch this one?"

"It was one of my favorites growing up," I said. 

"Is that your origin story, Dad?" Bryce asked sarcastically, knowing how much I love playing the drums now.

"Yes, yes it is, Bryce," I answered emphatically with a big smile.

"Did you play your drums for the baby Jesus?" Bryce added.

"I wish I did."

"Did you cry when you watched The Little Drummer Boy?"

"Every year."

"Awe, that's sweet," Beatrice said. They both know Dad's always a hopeful crier.

Those were simpler times when my sister and I were kids. Every holiday getting together with the extended family, eating way too much food, singing Christmas carols, and celebrating the birth of Jesus. Plus, getting to watch all our favorites stop-motion and other animated classics, and of course, opening all the gifts. 

Sigh. I can hear the Peanuts gang singing "Christmas Time Is Here." 

"Christmastime is here
Happiness and cheer
Fun for all that children call
Their favorite time of year..."

It wasn't all happy and carefree, though. The pleasant memories were bound to painful ones. Growing up with domestic violence and abuse sent my sister and I hurtling away from the innocence of childhood toward the concrete ceiling of adulthood at the speed of sound. The eventual sonic booms were deafening at times. 

And because my ears still sometimes pop from the pressurized past, my wife Amy and I were always all in for delivering supportive and loving parenting underscored with positive discipline. We don't always get it all right, but we do work hard to right the wrongs of our own pasts. 

Now our kids aren't kids any longer. Still years away, adulthood is coming faster for them. There are more questions about our specific rites of passages, the choices we made, and navigating friendships. There are questions about financial literacy, which we started having with them a few years ago. Beatrice has already had her first paying job and Bryce wishes they had one (besides the allowance they get for doing weekly household chores).

Their schoolwork gets harder every year and they have to focus more and more on time management and project management, which stresses both of them out. They realize how competitively ugly the world can be and how they'll have to navigate that throughout high school, college, and whatever they end up being and doing in their lives.

Yes, our kids have grown older and the simpler times have waned like a beautiful but brief winter sunset. Through this transitional time, the one thing we can't do for them, and really don't want to do, is to live their lives for them as they barrel toward adulthood. They have to go through it, with our guidance, of course. 

Now we hear them say, "I just don't have the time I need to get everything done -- and still be able to chill out!"

Which isn't true, but it's what it feels like sometimes. We can go from being on top of the world, to being flattened by it, especially when we hit that adulthood ceiling full force. But if there's one thing my origin story has taught me is that this ceiling can and does open like a magical observatory revealing a starlit universe of endless potential. 

Hard to see when you're scraping yourself off the ceiling, but all you need to do is believe to become, and then get to work. 

Blessings to you all however you celebrate this holiday season. Merry Christmas. 

Celebrate the Best of Us

Am I forever unredeemable?
Can I ever overcome all the wrongs I'm running from?
Can my worst be left behind
And do I deserve to find
There's a soul who could see any good in me?
Or will I only ever be
Unredeemable?

–Unredeemable, from Spirited

Spirited is one of my favorite Christmas movies today. Only two years old, it stars Will Ferrell and Ryan Reynolds and is an over-the-top A Christmas Carol twist of a musical comedy. I love it. Our kids like it. My wife Amy does not. At least, not all the singing and dancing parts. Actually, none of the singing and dancing parts. 

She's not a musical fan, but she kind of likes the story. That one along with many other holiday movies we watch this time of year: predictable campy comedies and melodramatic classics and heartfelt uplifters. For us anyway. The Holiday, Elf, Christmas Vacation, Just Friends, Four Christmases, Noelle, When Harry Met Sally, The Family Man (still my favorite), and It's a Wonderful Life (always a favorite). There are others as well, but these are the mainstays. And yes, Die Hard is a Christmas movie.

However, A Christmas Carol isn't one of my favorites, whether the Charles Dickens' novel or any of the movie adaptations over the years. I get the story. I like the story. Just not a favorite.

But the theme of it -- that even the worst human is redeemable and can be inspired to find the good inside others and inspire others to do the same -- has always resonated with me. 

Too bad the worst humans today get the most media visibility and inspire too many others to do their worst as well, including our children and grandchildren. Our own children ask us all the time now why so many people celebrate and support those who embrace the worst qualities of humanity. That's always a super-tough one to answer, and it gets harder to answer as our kids get older. 

Because we're all a little unredeemable, aren't we? That's what makes us human (and why we watch all those campy holiday movies each year). No matter what religious or spiritual belief system and/or societal norms we choose to live by, or try to live by, or pretend to live by, most of us have made poor choices and done bad things we're not proud of. 

Some of those have seen the light of day and hopefully we've repented, while others are secrets buried deep inside the dark wells of our hearts. Mercy me, that seems to be the plot of nearly every contemporary dark novel and movie adaptation in recent memory. 

Our kids want to know about our poor choices and bad things we're not proud of; they want to understand who we were, those choices we've made in our lives, and why we became who we are today as they're becoming who they are tomorrow. Of course, we don't tell them everything, but we do want them to understand the why of our choices and what those repercussions were, and what they could be today or tomorrow if they made them.

When they ask, we also talk openly about the worst of humanity with our kids now that they're older, while emphasizing the best of humanity when they don't. We know we shouldn't be defined by the worst things we've done, as long as we've worked hard to be good people and do good things for ourselves and others. 

Are we ever unconditionally selfless, empathetic, and loving with others throughout our lifetimes, no matter what they've done? For most of us, no. It's more complicated and nuanced for most humans, and the worst-of-us recidivism is unfortunately up these days. But instead of wallowing in all that, something I struggled with in my youth, I only need to look at my wife and children to know that we work hard to celebrate the best of us. It's not a Dickens' novel, or a spirited modern day musical (of which Amy is thankful), but it is a story of redemption I continue to write with gratitude. 

Wiring the Right Way

I remember jumping off our roof into the swimming pool when my sister and I were in high school. Super fun and super dangerous, our dad would get so mad at us when he caught us.

According to psychologist David Yeager, something that looks like risky and crazy to us, may be a new way to solve a problem. Well, maybe not jumping off the house roof into the pool, but other things could apply, based on a podcast my wife Amy listened to: Dr. Maya Shankar -- A Slight Change of Plans: What We Get Wrong About The Teen Brain.

This was something Amy talked to me about on our mountain hike this morning. Yes, the teen brain doesn't finish developing and maturing until the mid-to-late 20's. The prefrontal cortex is one of the last parts to mature and it's the area that's responsible for skills like planning, prioritizing, and making good decisions. Something many adults struggle to believe at times that teens can do. That teens are "all gas, no brakes". Which is true, again at times, but again, they are capable of planning ahead. 

From the podcast above, the psychologist used the example of planning to sneak out of the house. Now, as we discussed this fact on our hike, we were not advocating it, but my Amy did sneak out when she was a teen. I, however, did not. Really, I didn't. My sister did, including taking my El Camino for a joy ride, but I never snuck out. Nope, I did not. Don't look at me like that. 

Here's a much less risky brain-powered example: How many competitive Olympic heroes are teens who train and develop their bodies and brains for the future? Quite a few actually. Of the 2024 Paris Olympic Great Britain and Northern Ireland team, 14 were teenagers out of 327. There were many others from around the world. 

Our teens are teens, yes, and they've had mental trials already, but they do continue to amaze us with their creative brain power (without sneaking out or jumping off the roof). Our oldest Beatrice constantly develops her artistic abilities and fine motor skills, and one of her recent projects was a meticulous model of a cute alleyway with a coffee shop and a bookshop. I helped with the wiring but she did all the rest. Bryce has also been back at the guitar working their brain overtime to learn some sweet tunes. 

Bryce also surprised us at the joint middle school and high school holiday choir performance when they joined 4 other classmates in singing and performing Fleet Foxes - White Winter Hymnal, which they practiced secretly for weeks. Their version was fantastic and tears definitely came streaming down this dad's face. Plus, there's the fact that both our teens can and do talk thoughtfully about current social issues, ethics, and how they are empathic allies for marginalized groups. 

Sure, they may forget to take out the trash when we ask, or close the freezer all the way after I reminder them, or feed the pets when they're supposed to, but their brains are wiring the right way, and for that we're grateful. 

Loudly, Proudly, and with Much Love

On the way to my sister's house for Thanksgiving, our kids turned us on to some great new music. Artists we never would've heard otherwise -- beabadoobee, Alex G, Will Wood, The Volunteers, The Wallows, Glass Animals, and many others. Stuff that's not played on what's left of mainstream radio. Some of it sounding like shades of our music pasts from the 70's, 80's, and 90's. 

My wife Amy and I smiled in the front seat as we drove on and our kids excitedly took turns sharing their favorite artists, bands, and songs. Not all the music was our "cup of tea" as the expression goes, but much of it we really liked. It was also great insight into their teenage sensibilities.

Our kids have grown up hearing our music over and over again -- pop, rock, soul, rhythm and blues, and even some contemporary indie folk and country. Amy and I are also big fans of what's now called Yacht Rock -- smooth but surprisingly complex early "emo" (emotional) pop-rock from the 70's and 80's (think Steely Dan, Toto, Christopher Cross, Michael McDonald, Kenny Loggins, Ambrosia). We just finished watching a great documentary called Yacht Rock: A DOCKumentary from HBO Documentary Films that we highly recommend for those who love that music.

Early on in my life my mom turned me on to that music and more -- rhythm and blues, soul, pop, and of course my favorite, rock (and roll). Everything from Janis Joplin to the Ohio Players to Michael Jackson to Earth Wind & Fire to Pablo Cruise to The Doobie Brothers. 

Billy Joel's hit "Only the Good Die Young" was the first 45 record I bought with my allowance. My sister and I walked to the local mall and went to the Woolworth's record section where we would check out all the records for what seemed like hours. Every time we had enough money to buy a new single, we made the trek to Woolworth's. 

A few years later when I was 13, I joined the Columbia Record Club and bought 13 records for 1 cent, which really turned out to be more in shipping and handling. But my parents weren't happy when they found out I still had to buy three more albums over two years at full overpriced Columbia Record Club prices. However, those first 13 albums were my coming of age -- Kiss, Kansas, Journey, Boston, Queen, Aerosmith, AC/DC, and others (becoming the Rush fan I am today would come a few years later). 

Between then and now there's been so much amazing music I've experienced, and I must credit my nephew Nick for turning me onto to some of it during the 2010's. His mother (my sister) and father were also grounded in
tons of great music and both my nephew and niece love it all, too. Again, thank you, Nana (Mom). 

One of many shared loves of Amy and I that's fueled our love for nearly three decades is this very music we grew up with, our coming-of-age music, and the music we've grown together with ever since we met. Our kids don't necessarily like all these past musical artists and bands as much as we do, but our music has influenced them more than they've realized, just like my mom's music influenced my sister and me. 

Our kids grew up loving pop music (Taylor Swift and many others), but today along with pop, Beatrice also loves alt-rock from the 90's to today (thank you grunge), and Bryce loves edgy new punkish-rock and amazing new singer-songwriter music. Now the coming-of-age circle is complete because they're turning us on to a lot of great new music. 

But the greatest tribute for me, even though they don't listen to the band (yet -- ha!), is the fact that my daughters wear my Rush t-shirts and sweatshirts. That most certainly rocks, because what they don't know is that to me (and millions of fans), Rush has always represented individualism, critical thinking, learning, levity, and empathy -- all the things and more we want for them -- loudly, proudly, and with much love.

What’s Left

What’s left is a turkey leg
Attached to its bony carcass
On a dirty dish-piled counter 
Wondering whether it ends up
In soup stock or the trash can
It overhears laughter 
Some frothy debate 
A fight breaking out
New people broken in
Children running
Children crying 
Drunken singing
Zingers flying
Kisses stolen
Bodies swollen
Someone smokes outside
Games are played inside
And the turkey leg longs
To be a part of the throng
But it knows it won’t be
As its time is numbered
Maybe lasting till morning 
While largely ignored until 
The deep sighs of woeful
Cleaning have begun
But that’s hours away
And it really wants to stay
While the humans beyond 
Are purposefully loud 
Loving and painfully aware
Of limitations and aspirations
Until they all drift slowly away 
What’s left is a turkey leg
Grateful for the memories 
They forever become

–KWG

Our Children Are Counting On Us

"Half the world hates

What half the world does every day
Half the world waits
While half gets on with it anyway..."

––Rush, Half the World 

The hopeful yet trite saying that most people are good must still be somewhat true, otherwise half of us would always be hating the other half. 

[Pause] 

Maybe that's not fair, to think that half of America, or half the world, hates the other half. That's an over-simplified view of the human experience, even in the realities of today. However, the history of humankind has shown us again and again how easily others are marginalized and trampled underfoot, usually by those in power and the way the wind blows. Plus, our biological human history has been a continuous struggle between the want of experiencing immediate and irrational gratification and self-preservation, and the painful emotional dissonance of rational evolution. 

In other words, we're mostly feeling beings who sometimes think, no matter the amazing human accomplishments throughout history. I certainly raise my hand in full admittance here. 

As a species, we have evolved rationally, ethically, and spiritually, and every generation tests this progress by demanding evidence and pointing out how fallible we are. My wife Amy and I are experiencing that right now with both our teen daughters. Two questioning kids on their own paths to independence and their own identities who grapple with the human-condition realities of today. 

Our oldest Beatrice currently has an honors World History course that we help quiz her on and we always get the tough ethical questions of why. They're studying World War II now, the Holocaust, and development of the atomic bombs the U.S. dropped on Japan to attempt to end the war. Why were over six million Jewish people exterminated? Why did we kill over 200,000 people with the atomic bombs?

And the list of questions goes on and on. Just like I remember doing when I was a teenager. All the hard questions, all the time, and never feeling satisfied with the answers I received. "Most people are good, and sometimes we do bad things, and God forgives us all." 

In my lifetime since, I've always wanted to believe that we've evolved ethically and spiritually, but over time, especially today, I don't think I've ever seen so many poor male and female role models in government leadership, business leadership, and everyday personal leadership who fully embrace, justify, and normalize misogyny, harassment, sexual assault, racism, xenophobia, homophobia, corruption, grift, hate, and violence. 

And I go back many decades now. These detrimental ideals are embraced, then denied, and then forgiven. But they never go away. The fragmented and biased media coverage hasn't helped. The constant misinformation hasn't helped (artificial intelligence and automation has fueled this, too). Finding God hasn't helped either and has perpetuated more hate than love. And the questions from our children pile up. 

Author James Baldwin wrote, "I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain." That's why I recommend more study of inclusive empathy, understanding, and love, to be empathic allies, but that would mean folks would have to deal with their pain, the pain of why we hate and what we have to give up and give in to do that, and again, human biology fights that tooth and nail. 

Amy and I agree we've been judgmental about others and about current events we've discussed in front of our children, about how we see the world and the poor role models around us (and the good ones too), but it's never done out of malice. Anger and frustration sometimes, but never malice. This is why we've worked on as adults and parents is finding joy in the success of others, of those overcoming obstacles and improving their lives and mental health, and more, and how we can help or support their success. In other words, what it's like to have empathy and understanding where others are at, and why they are where they're at. Something our teens remind us of every single day with their adult commentaries. 

Blessings to all those poor role models out there in the world today. I hope some of them can turn it around, for the sake of all our children and grandchildren, and especially for the sake of their own children and grandchildren. 

Because think about what all the children and grandchildren see and hear and what it does to them, how it taints their perception of others and the world. We can choose to love and understand, or we can choose to hate and minimize. Of course it's not a simple dichotomy; human experience is definitely more complex than we acknowledge and the gradations of good and bad are gray at best sometimes. Again, we're mostly feeling beings who sometimes think, so let's "get on with it anyway" and think more about how we're feeling, why we're feeling, and what to do about it that's inclusive for everyone. 

Amy and I believe we can be better, and we can do better. All our children and grandchildren are counting on us.