Friday, November 29, 2024

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

Sunday, November 24, 2024

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. 

Saturday, November 9, 2024

To Be Empathic Allies

“Truly amazing, what people can get used to, as long as there are a few compensations.”

―Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale


“We must accept finite disappointment but never lose infinite hope." 

Martin Luther King, Jr


My wife Amy and I have always loved "end of the world" stories. When we first met, we discovered we had both read Lucifer's Hammer, a 1977 novel about a comet breaking apart and striking earth and the survival story afterwards, and still talk about it to this day. Then there was The Stand by Stephen King and The Road by Cormac McCarthy, and television shows like The Walking Dead (based on graphic novels), Station Eleven (based on a novel), The Last of Us (based on a video game), and The Handmaid's Tale (based on Margaret Atwood's novel, and now a little too close to home). Plus, many more novels, movies, and TV shows in between. 

Ultimately for us both it was less about the why of the end, no matter how horrible the aftermath, and more about the how of human perseverance and survival laced with empathy and love. As long as there was a thread of hope and love in the story with empathic protagonists, then it reaffirmed our own hopefulness and love for humankind. Of course, that was just as true for us in everyday nonfiction stories, too. 

Including reelecting a convicted authoritarian president (and a congress majority) who only leads with misogyny, racism, anger, and fear, reaffirmed again and again by constant misinformation and lies for the past decade. Over half the U.S. who supported him may disagree with that, and/or overlook it, and/or not care.

The world may or may not end with a cataclysmic bang because of this; maybe it'll only end in a whimper and we'll survive this real-life dystopian future that's coming. In the meantime, it's still soul-crushing to believe that so many of us are driven by that much grievance, anger, and fear. Because ultimately it was never about the price of eggs. That was simply an unfortunate by-product of supply-and-demand economics that most of us don't even understand or care to. 

We're all fallible, feeling beings who sometimes think, not the other way around. It's always been easier to have scapegoats, others to blame for our misgivings and misfortunes, but history has shown again and again how this all ends. That's what worries me the most. Not the end of America or World War III, but the more immediate danger of a newly empowered harassment and violence escalation against women, the LGBTQ+ community, people of color, immigrants, neurodivergent people, people of different religions, and empathic allies like my wife, our children, and me (and many of you). The targets on our backs have never been bigger. And it's not just coming -- it's already here. 

Thankfully a dear friend reminded me that we do need to continue to fight the good fight on the ground in the communities where we live. To be empathic allies who lead with love, hope, and understanding and help ensure basic human rights and safety equity for all. And that's exactly what we're going to do. Blessings to us all. 

Saturday, November 2, 2024

Listening with Empathy and Love

40 years ago I was a mental mess. I had finished high school and graduated, but had trashed my stellar GPA the last semester. I remember barely keeping it together as I pushed my best friend into the stadium for our graduation ceremony. He had broken his neck our senior year; I had broken my spirit. It was still a special moment, but a painfully bittersweet one.

Thankfully I was only just beginning to talk about how I felt, even if I didn't fully understand what was going on with my mental health. I was over a decade away from the grateful and mindful path I'm still on today, but at least it was a start. Childhood trauma combine continuous self-imposed pressure to succeed in school led to crippling social anxiety and panic attacks for me my last year and a half of high school. Once I could finally talk about it with friends, my family, a caring high school counselor -- it helped, but the damage at the time had been done. Suicidal thoughts crept their way in at times, but I knew in my heart life would be different someday. 

And it is. Us Gen X kids may have been tougher and survivors growing up (at least it makes a great social media meme), but some of us had our share of mental and emotional train wrecks along the way. Now, with Gen Z teens, my wife Amy and I have been riding the parental roller coaster, again, of teen anxiety. Anyone with teens today knows what I'm taking about. 

Depression, anxiety and behavioural disorders are among the leading causes of illness and disability among adolescentsUgh.

Teen anxiety may be a common crappy rite of passage, but one difference for our kids than for me at that age was earlier self-awareness, more accessible empathy (from within and from others), and the ability to articulate how they feel. Listening to your kids without judgement, and/or without trying to always solve their problems or telling them to toughen up and deal with whatever it is they're dealing with, is super critical. Encouraging hobbies, sports, theater, music, and physical activities can help, too. 

Sure, I grew up riding in the back of pickup trucks with nothing strapping me in (literally and figuratively). I also literally fell out of the back of one of those trucks when I was 16. Good times. 

Our kids will go through what they go through, have their own bittersweet journeys just like we did. But there should never be any stigma in listening with empathy and love and giving them the resources and support they need to learn how to adapt and thrive in life. And parents need a lot of that empathy and love, too.