For the Rest of My Life

There's only one person I've ever wished would die. I'm not sure if that's something I should be proud of, or admit to, or to write down here, but it's true. Not only wishing him to die, but wanting to kill him.

Why? Because he was a horribly abusive man who terrorized my mother, emotionally abused my sister, and sexually abused me. Two and half years of our lives that felt like forever every day. This was our first stepfather after our mother divorced our birth father, another broken man who was an alcoholic, abused our mother, and neglected my sister and me, who I eventually forgave decades later.

Both our birth father and first stepfather are long gone now. My vengeful hate is long gone. I'm grateful for the latter. Blessings to anyone struggling with past personal trauma, who can envision themselves striking back against those who have wronged them. Because if you act on it, you cross a Rubicon you can never return from, and it will never change what prompted the vengeful act in the first place. Decades later, forgiving and letting go were the only viable solutions for me. That was transformative for me and helped me to be a better human, husband, and father. 

But there are many kinds of personal and societal trauma today that need the positive support structures. mindsets, and skills to heal from them. Today, extreme political and socioeconomic polarization traumatize our world (again). Some are striking back and being celebrated for doing so. Killing or hurting, or attempting to kill or hurt, vilified CEOs, billionaires, Presidents, other elected officials, judges, political influencers, celebrities, and others. Those we blame for our personal woes, the woes of others, and/or those who we vehemently disagree with. 

For me, there are two problems going on simultaneously. Two problems that are impacting the lives of too many around the world. Those are the aggressive and violent overreactions to the extremism, and those who support the extremism (or selective parts of it) on either end of the spectrum. Both are dangerous to the rest of us. The rest of us who believe empathy and finding common ground are key to closing the disagreement gap, not destroying it. It's harder when things are batshit crazy and false, on either side of the spectrum. Because the rest of us in between don't revel in the demise of others we disagree with, or blame for our woes and/or the woes of others, or wish them to die, or to kill them. 

It's just as hard for me to accept the rhetoric of those who agree with selective parts of any extremist dialogue than it is to grapple directly with full-throated extremism itself. And it's dangerous that so many have demonized leading with love and empathy. I don't understand how anyone can say empathy is destroying our world, because I believe the very people who believe that are the ones leaving a path of destruction for the rest of us, especially for our children. How can the ability to understand and share the feelings of others be evil? It's this backwards alternative universe we find ourselves in that frightens me the most. 

This isn't a Stephen King novel where we can take out a supposed antagonist to prevent a cataclysmic event. But sadly we're devolving into our violent human past and the extremism is killing civility and compromise. And each other. I've always been supportive of free speech, but I disagree with "agreeing to disagree" when the "disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist" (thank you, James Baldwin). The difference is that I'm not going to counter by killing. Blessings to those lost and their families because of it.

I know I'm not without bias or incapable of consuming poisoned beliefs, but I'm going to do everything I can to counter them for the rest of my life by rising above and leading with love, mindfulness, and empathy, without shame, judgment, or retribution. Amen.

Turning No Into The Flow

I'm the "no" dad. Literally. My default setting is to say no when our kids ask for things (which in my defense, aren't always realistic or the best timing). It's no when my wife suggests we can fix something when I think we can't (without thinking about it). It's no when she suggests we can do a house project ourselves as well. 

I have mellowed somewhat on the "no's", but overall it's still my go-to answer. I am definitely the "no" dad.

"Dad, can you get me something at McDonald's?"

"No."

"Honey, we can fix the garbage disposal ourselves, you know."

"No, I don't know.

Actually, we did fix the garbage disposal ourselves and we have done a lot of house projects ourselves over the years. Most recently, we landscaped our backyard again for the third time since we bought the house 17 years ago (and for me, the last time -- it was back-breaking work).  

But I've always put up some resistance to those things that are out of my comfort zone. Which is ironic, because that's the way I've learned and grown over the years, doing things outside my comfort zone, personally and professionally. Saying no, then caving in to growth. 

My wife Amy, on the other hand, is the "yes" mom, and truly believes anything and everything is possible,  even when in the end, it's not. But just the belief that anything and everything is possible ultimately makes the impossible possible, even if it turns out another way, like someone else has to fix something, not us. 

I call that being in the "flow", something she's damn good at. We meditate together nearly everyday and that's been helpful to getting me more in the flow, it just takes me a lot more energy to overcome the no. 

And with our daughters, Beatrice and Bryce, Amy is the super "yes" mom for sure, and they always go to her first. She's always willing to work it out for them when they want do go somewhere, any and every day, even when it's not convenient and frustrating for her. 

As I write this, it makes me feel like I'm the bad guy, or more accurately poetic, the bad dad. But that's not fair to me, because I am a good dad, and I do ultimately say yes a lot more these days, and Amy and I always coordinate the drop-offs and pick-ups of our kids wherever they are and need to go. I've been known to be spontaneous and take them for a treat after school without them asking. 

Plus, as I already mentioned, Amy and I do a lot of home projects together that do work out without having to outsource them because she truly believes anything and everything is possible (just more cursing and sweating from me). She is the yin to my yang; the airbrushed blue sky to my storm-cloud rainbows; and that's why I love her so much. 

But even Amy's yeses know that sometimes nos are necessary, a parenting imperative in fact, and we compromise on those more serious kid no's when they come up. So, while the all-purpose no may be my default setting, I am working on it. You've heard of turning a frown upside down? Well, I'm working on turning the non-serious no into the flow and letting it all go. Can I do it? Maybe (at least that's not a no). 

Relationships That Travel Well

"You get annoyed so easily," Bryce said. "You both do."

Our youngest was talking to us, her mom and dad. She said this because we got snippy with our oldest Beatrice for always taking too long to choose something to eat and drink while we were on vacation (and just in general). Bea always needs more time to choose since she's a vegetarian, and we understand that. 

Bryce doesn't need more time to choose, because she's not a vegetarian, but she can be really picky about what she eats and how she eats it. Sometimes when she orders food she's like Sally from When Harry Met Sally -- "And I'd like it all on the side, please." She also gets really "hangry" when she's hungry and picky, which did annoy us a few times on this vacation. 

Both kids were actually pretty good the entire trip and the family grump level was low overall considering how much we make the kids go, go, go and do, do, do. This after traveling over 13,000 miles, most of which was the long flights to London and back. Overall, it was a two-week trip of planes, trains, automobiles, buses, and taxis to and throughout the UK and Ireland. This trip also included about 90 miles of walking over two weeks, an average of seven miles per day. Our kids didn't walk all 90 miles, but they did do most of it. 

As I mentioned in my last piece, there are no greater companions in the world than my family. No more how great, though, the snippy grumps happen between all of us, including between mom and dad, my wife Amy and me. It all comes with the travel territory when vacationing together as a family. Or when we're just living together 24/7. Which is all the time. 24/7.

After over 25 years together and many destinations under our belts, Amy and I can definitely get snippy with each other when traveling, especially when it comes to:

1. How early to get to the airport, which for Amy is never early. She'd prefer to get there at not necessarily the last minute, but without a lot of sitting around time. I prefer earlier than later, just to have wiggle room if something goes wrong. (We compromise nicely on this one now.)
2. Directions, which in full transparency, I'm not the greatest at, even with the Maps app and GPS. We can walk or drive somewhere, and then if we did it again, I would still second-guess which way to go, even with GPS.

In regards to number 2, during the last leg of our trip in Ireland, we decided to rent a car and drive ourselves around. Before this trip, the one and only time we drove on the other side of the car and road was in Australia back in 2018, and we ended up doing okay with the driving. So, we did it again in Ireland. 

This time there were a lot more roundabouts than in Australia (at least it seemed that way), which actually are quite efficient compared to stoplights. The problem (for me) was which exit to take. The Maps app would tell us specifically which exit to take, but when Amy drove I told her to take wrong one a few times. In my defense, the Maps exit number didn't always match the exits on the roundabouts we took, but I was still wrong most of the time. That frustrated her to no end and I finally stopped commentating. Kind of.

I did the same thing when we used Maps while walking around, and it took me over a week to figure out that the little flashlight-like directional glow coming off the blue dot was like a compass reminding us to keep following the right blue-line directions. Again, in my defense, Maps and GPS can freak out and give incorrect directions, but most of the time they were correct. And I was not. Amy and I are still a good team and we get to where we're going. 

Yes, we all get grumpy traveling together (and living together). However, there's a nuance to the mom and dad travel and everyday life grumpies that sometimes our kids mistake for fighting. Amy and I have been together for over 25 years now and we know each other very well. Of course we've had our share of disagreements, even a few serious fights, but we also like to tease each other where it sounds like we're grumpy, but we're really not. They're just one part of our long-term relationship terms of endearment and this came up with our kids during vacation.

"You guys get annoyed so easy," Bryce again reminded us. "Are you fighting now?"

"No, Bryce, we're teasing each other this time, but we can get snippy with each other as you've already seen on this trip," Amy said. "The difference is we always work it out no matter what."

"We don't always agree, but we know how to compromise," I added. "And of course we love each other very much."

That was my queue to give Amy a kiss. 

"Ugh, stop it!" both girls cried out. 

Then I kissed her again.

We hope someday they'll have their own loving and elastic relationships based on trust and compromise. Those are the relationships that travel well. 

Not Always to Cross

"It ought to be second nature —
At least, that’s what I feel
'Now I lay me down in Dreamland' —
I know perfect’s not for real
I thought we might get closer —
But I’m ready to make a deal..."

–Rush, Second Nature

Damn, if it wasn’t Angel’s Landing all over again. That exaggerated vertigo feeling of flying over the edge and falling to my death. Legs weak, head dizzy and every time I looked down I felt the earth’s gravity calling to me, a siren’s song to fly, crash and burn.

But unlike Angel’s Landing in Zion National Park in Utah before we had kids, where we climbed along sheer cliffs with nothing to hold onto except a chain threaded through large eye bolts embedded into the rocks under us, the family vacation hike to Honeymoon Bridge at the Three Sisters in Australia was much easier.

We didn’t make it all the way to Angel’s Landing; the terror of plummeting to the canyon floor was too much for us. We had to backtrack and head back down, even as families with young children scrambled past us, urging us to continue to the end.

The Mama (what I lovingly call my wife) wanted to see Honeymoon Bridge, although I had my reservations, unclear as to how high above the valley foliage we’d be. Probably too high. Yep. Way too high.

As we hiked to the bridge and went from a flat walking path to stairs with hand rails descending a few hundred feet to the bridge, my mind wandered to the night before, to how much easier it was to descend a different path.

We’d been out to dinner and the server who took our order forgot to put in the meals that the Mama and me wanted to eat. It happens. The server was apologetic and we still got our food, but I couldn’t let it go. Didn’t want to let it go. The beer and the travel tired didn’t help either. No excuse, though. I was a grump the rest of the night and that didn’t bode well for the Mama.

We’d already moved past it the next day, but it’s a recurring theme for me, gnashing my teeth like a Twitter troll as neutral passersby go about their business when I feel selfishly slighted. And not letting go no matter what.

Each step down to the bridge was actually easier than the last, as long as I didn’t look down the side of the cliff we descended. This time my mind wandered to the continuous acidic conversations I see online all the time, especially between supposed friends on Facebook (had just witnessed another one that morning). Tribal and polarized, these threads quickly dive into anger and frustration because of something one doesn’t like about the other (politically, socially, economically, etc.).

What’s worse, our greater discourse has empowered too many (more than I still want to believe) to stay in that dark and “grumpy” place of ignorant misunderstandings. An angry racist and misogynistic place where neighbor turns against neighbor. It’s one thing to have zero tolerance for hate, but the problem is that hate doesn’t discriminate and we seem to have zero tolerance for one another these days, which keeps us fractured and weak. And not letting go no matter what.

My attention refocused on the height at hand; we made it to Honeymoon Bridge. And although I had to take a picture near it, not on it, we still made it and the family crossed the 10-foot bridge to the carved out cliff of the first Sister of the Three. Nothing but air on either side of the bridge.

As I’ve made perfectly clear, I’m not a fan of heights. No frickin’ way. And yet I always try to push myself to get there, to go beyond my comfort zone and see something new, do something new, learn something new. To make the arduous journey upward and to get another perspective about this still amazing world we live. To rise above our baser instincts, our genetic default, for our better angels' compromise.

So many proverbial bridges to build and share with one another, but not always to cross.