Hug Your Kids

The text floored me. 

"MHMS is in lockdown. There is no immediate threat to the school. All children are accounted for and safe."

It was from our daughters' middle school and that's all it said. I had just gotten off of a work call and immediately went inside our house.

"Did you see the text?" I asked my wife Amy.

"Yes," was all she said. She was texting herself.

"Who are you texting?" I asked.

"Beatrice. She's working in the office right now. She says they may be someone nearby the campus with a gun, so they're barricading the door."

Our oldest Beatrice, now in 8th grade, is an office aid in the morning and was able to get to her phone and text her mom. She was scolded for that by one of the adults in the office, but another had already told her she could use her phone. Most of the time the students with phones have to keep them in their backpacks in their lockers. She texted Amy that she heard they were in a code red lockdown.

Another text came through on my phone: "Police are investigating an anonymous tip of a threat to Santa Cruz High. There has been no violence and no evidence of an active threat."

That didn't make us feel any better; the high school wasn't far from our middle school. Beatrice texted Amy that they were fine, but many of the adults were scared. She wasn't panicking and that was a good thing.

I paced back and forth in our living room, not sure what to do, if anything. We didn't know how our youngest Bryce was doing, only that she was in her core 6th grade classroom on the first floor. The were reports from local media that someone had called the police to report multiple shots had been fired at the nearby high school. That was all we knew.

Amy texted Beatrice to stay away from the windows. Beatrice said they closed all the shades, but we both knew that still wouldn't stop any bullets from outside. There's been too much violence on school grounds this year; there have been at least 141 real incidents of gunfire on school grounds, resulting in 48 deaths and 115 injuries nationally. Statistically it's at an all-time high. 

It was heart-wrenching to have to wait for more information in light of what's been happening more and more in this country. I knew if we tried to go down there, we wouldn't be let inside the school during a lockdown. Beatrice would tell us later that a parent pounded on the school doors shortly after the lockdown started, which scared everyone in the office. 

Imagining both our children trapped inside the school with someone roaming the halls with guns ready to kill filled me with angry dread. Amy and I kept it under control, though. We've repeatedly discussed what to do in case of this kind of emergency and counted on the fact our girls would do their best to stay safe. Until we knew more, there wasn't much we could do and that we had to be ready for action if and when necessary. Then there were reports that the active shooter incident was a hoax. An hour later that's what the text from school indicated as a possibility as well. 

Thirty minutes later I went to pick up our daughters. There had already been many parents picking up their kids once the lockdown was lifted, and while I waited for ours, I watched every other middle schooler come out of the front doors looking shaken, even crying. It was unbearable. 

I hugged both daughters when they came outside. Hearing them describe the anxiety they experienced as well as their classmates and teachers, having to push desks and chairs to barricade doors and hide under their desks, kids crying and shaking and even throwing up, everyone waiting for God knows what, was heart-wrenching. Bryce said she had a panic attack but she was better now; I hugged her again. The rest of the day we talked through it all with them, reviewed our safety plans and our Kidpower, and were grateful to have our family safe at home.

Thank you to our local law enforcement, the teachers, and the administrators for following safety protocols and keeping our children safe. Sadly this is part of a growing trend nationally where callers disguise their number and identity through and deceives emergency responders into sending services to create fear and disruption. This combined with the real violence on the rise is no joke and the trauma is devastating. 

Hug your kids and have a safety plan. Blessings to those who have lost their lives to this violence. We have to do more to prevent it.

Clap Along

"It might seem crazy what I am 'bout to say

Sunshine, she's here, you can take a break

I'm a hot air balloon that could go to space

With the air, like I don't care, baby by the way..."

—Pharrell Williams, Happy

We need more gentle, loving, and empathic souls in this world. If the past few years have shown us anything, it was how easy it's become to call each names, to demean and ridicule one another because of differences, beliefs, and perspectives. It's become cool to be toxic and tough again, for men and women alike. 

I've been guilty of that myself, which is why it became so important to meet people where they are without judgement. My wife Amy and I have really been working on that one, and our daughters help to keep us honest as well. They're old enough now to understand what we say and why we say it and have no problem calling us judgers. They may not always get the context of our intention right, but we've taught them well to be more empathic and inclusive, without ever compromising their health and safety. 

Yes, we need more gentle, empathic souls today. Sadly, we lost one recently to cancer -- our dear Aunt Julie. Married to Amy's Uncle Brian, she's was such a sweet presence in our lives for nearly 20 years. Brian and Julie had met around the time when Amy and I were married, although she didn't come to our wedding with him. We also didn't live near one another, but we've had many opportunities to be together starting with their wedding back in 2006. In 2007 we traveled to Boston together with them and had a wonderful time, which was when we decided to have a family (Beatrice arrived in 2008). 

Over the years they would visit us in California, or we'd visit them, whether in Illinois where they were from along with many of Amy's family, or in Oregon where they eventually settled. They were hopeful romantics like we are and had many adventures together, just like we've had. In fact, we just celebrated our anniversary and theirs was coming up. She was also a wonderful artist who inspired our girls and their artistic abilities. In recent years, Brian and Julie were on the similar spiritual path as us to become better loving and nurturing souls. But her illness overcame her and she recently left this world, finally free of her cancer and her pain. 

Sadly there's one less gentle and loving person in the world. One special memory we have of Julie was a visit from her and Brian and other family members years ago when our girls were only three and five years old. We had a dance party in the living room with the lights out and our disco ball swirling that filled the darkness with happy, vibrants colors. One of the songs we played was "Happy" by Pharrell Williams, which was new at the time, and quite appropriate for that visit. Julie loved it, having not heard it before then, and we all danced away to the "happy" song.

One of the song's lines is, "Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth," and we all definitely clapped along. Julie will be missed and our hearts go out to Brian. The only solace from the grief and pain of losing someone we love is that their happy and joyful soul remains in our hearts forever. With God's grace we can continue to clap along to this truth. 

Time For Them To Go Make

Thank goodness my parents never chaperoned my junior high dances. Not that there was out-of-control make-out sessions going on; most of the time kids just stood around. Girls on one side of the gym, and boys on the other, all giggling and talking among themselves. Sometimes there was shrieking and running around like crazy kids, but most of the time there was just a lot of standing around. 

However, at my 8th grade dances, there was a little making out and close dancing, and I definitely didn't want my parents seeing that. The teacher, administrators, and other parents who were supervising the dances did their best to keep us all in line. 

Being 12, 13, and 14 are awkward and exciting years. Changes abound, physically and emotionally, and having two daughters means they are exponential. Our girls are amazing and we're so proud of them, no matter how much "sass" we get now. And we're getting it, that's for sure. Especially me. 

We're all very close and feel safe with each other, are comfortable being vulnerable, and can poke fun at each other without being mean. Mostly. We're still their parents, and they are our children, and while we want to ensure they're safe and making good choices, we're very grateful that they share their days with us, how they feel (up or down), and ask for help when they need it. 

They're both in middle school now and participating in more activities on their own with their friends. We review our safety plans every week with them, of what they need to do when they're on their own, like checking in with us, especially if the original plan changes. 

Now there are the middle school dances for our kids. Our oldest Beatrice went to her first last year after pandemic restrictions were lifted. Our youngest Bryce gets to go to her first with her sister and friends this year. Amy volunteered to help with the dance, but not chaperone it. 

The other night when we were all playing a game before dinner, Amy and I joked with them that we were going to both chaperone their next dance. 

"No!" they both exclaimed.

All of us being big fans of the sitcom The Goldbergs, about a family growing up in the 1980's, a coming-of-age decade for Amy and me, Amy pulled out the catch phrases from the mom character Beverly Goldberg. 

"We're going to go to your dance and I'm going to dad dance like this," I said. I shared my funky hitchhiker hand swing.

"No, Dad, you can't do that," Beatrice said. Bryce just laughed.

Amy smiled. "And I'm going to tell everyone how I 'baked my schmoopies in my mom oven' and how much I love you," she said, channeling Beverly Goldberg. 

Both girls laughed and said, "No!"

"And then I'm going to ask you both if you 'need to go make,'" said Amy, dropping her hand into her other one and giggling herself. That reference meaning having to go number 2 in the bathroom. 

Again they both shouted, "No!"

We all laughed. What they don't know is that we just may chaperone a dance before the end of the school year. So we can watch our kids with their friends all stand around giggling and talking, while they periodically shriek and run around like crazies, just like our olden days. Whether we chaperone or not, these are the their formative years when it's time for them to go make. Special memories, that is. Because nobody likes to talk potty time, especially teens.

To Keep The Heart Lights On

"If ever a man had it all
It would have to be me
And, oooh, I love you..."

–Climax Blues Band, I Love You

I listened to Roger Love speak about speaking. About voice and volume. About melody. About how all the things he shared with the audience, being a famous voice coach, can make us better communicators. 

Unfortunately I was tired from work travel, so I nodded off here and there. I heard most of what he said, though. About how important melody is and why we should pretend we are singing while you are speaking. We should move it around, shake it up, swoop, dive, soar, and let our voice be as interesting as we are.

Man, I needed melody in that moment. Feeling burnt out at work, unsure of the future as recession fears grow, and being far from home at a work conference called HR Inspire, I felt very uninspired and alone. After Roger was done speaking, another attendee struck up a conversation with me. Our spouses came up, and I said it was almost our 25th anniversary. Twenty-five years from the day we met, and 19 years from when we were married, on the same date. I also talked proudly of my daughters. He smiled and asked me what was so special about my wife, I said, "She's open and empathic and has such a loving heart. Our children have such a great role model." Then he asked, "What about you?" I smiled and winked, then said, "She's taught me well."

And while that was nice sharing about my wife and daughters, it also made me more miserable and homesick. After that, I wandered alone as the attendees left, many headed to the conference reception. The conference venue was Music City Center in Nashville, and music of all flavors was piped over the event center PA system. 

A familiar melody started to play, an old song I've always loved. One that reminded me of my wife. Lyrically it wasn't literal to our relationship, but it was close. The song was "I Love You" by Climax Blues Band, and it floored me. I sat alone in the lower lobby and tears welled in my eyes. 

I thought about that one day at the beach nearly 25 years ago, and more tears welled in my eyes. I've always been a hopeless romantic my whole life, although romanticizing our love hasn't needed much help; our melody has always been there. However, we've had relationship problems and painful moments of angst and anger, but we've learned to prioritize honesty, growth, intimacy, and love. And even after 25 years of love and growth, we're going through this book called The Love Prescription: Seven Days to More Intimacy, Connection, and Joy together.

I sat there and wiped the tears away. No matter how fried and uncertain I felt about my business and my work life, and how fearful I was about the future, all I had to do was think about these melodies: the love of my life and our children. That's more than enough love to keep the heart lights on. 

"Since then I never looked back

It's almost like living a dream

And, oooh, I love you..."

A Renaissance of Pure Potentiality

We've always told our kids that it's not about the school grades, it's about doing their personal best and learning. Our oldest Beatrice would argue that we do care about grades, especially now that she's been in middle school for the past two-plus years. She's not completely wrong nor is she completely right on that one. For me, someone who grew up constantly striving to excel in school with the payoff being the grades, and the parental and peer recognition and social acceptance that came from that. What I didn't consciously realize then was that it wasn't so much about the learning; it was about being esteemed, even envied. 

It's different now. I'm different now. My wife Amy has definitely been more about pure potential and willingness to do our best, whatever the outcome, and I'm there now, too. Because the outcomes literally should be learning and growth as humans trying to traverse a lifetime of inevitable challenges and failures. Some self-imposed and many others brought on by others as well as circumstance. 

Our youngest Bryce has an easier time with her schoolwork overall than her big sister does. Don't get me wrong, even with Beatrice who struggles with math and reading, they both are thriving in school (Bea has an A+ in English -- and there's the grade pride thing again). Their grades reflect that, yes, but their entire daily exercise of living has translated to else their abilities to learn, adapt, and apply new insights to how they approach life as teens and beyond.

However, a lifetime of inevitable challenges and failures, whether self-imposed or not, isn't how life should be viewed exclusively. Yes, they will make decisions that won't be in their best interest. Yes, there may also come a time when they are discriminated against and opportunities withdrawn because of their gender, of who they are, of what they do.

But we want them to believe and breathe the Law of Pure Potentiality, that they can create anything, anytime, anywhere. This was one of our latest meditations and one that really resonated with me. It's based on the fact that we are, in our essential state, pure consciousness. Pure consciousness is pure potentiality; it is the field of all possibilities and infinite creativity. Pure consciousness is our spiritual essence.

Maybe we're not so far off when we tell our children they can be whoever they want to be and do whatever they want to do -- their spiritual essence is pure potential. The fact is that the challenges, limitations, and discrimination that can and will happen to them are all transitory -- they will still be able to create anything, anytime, anywhere. That includes creating love, empathy, happiness, and peace. 'Cause every little thing gonna be all right. Although I grew up a Christian, only now do I understand why others react so negatively when someone talks about their spirituality, their faith, and how God (our pure consciousness) provides. 

Our family's faith today is a renaissance of pure potentiality. Already both of our girls have started developing the ability to adapt, overcome, and to keep creating a positive vision of what's next. The latter being the biggest life differentiator of all. Grades may measure academic progress, while what we manifest measures the rest.