A Long-Term Well-Being Win

My best friend Robby of 45 years always likes to tell the story of how he almost wasn't part of our long-term friend group. The one that keeps getting together year after year, decades after high school. We first met in 7th grade, and while we became best friends later on in high school, my best friend in 7th grade at the time, Brad, saved Robby from being bullied in wood shop class. Back then I was a skinny, asthmatic, shy, and fearful kid, not a hero, and was relieved and grateful with Brad's intervention. I was also grateful that Robby and I befriended each other through goofy humor and the music of Cheap Trick, Kiss, and many other rock groups at that time.

Our long-time friend-group origin story birthed sometime between our sophomore and junior years in high school. That's when, Robby jokes, he was "included" in our group of friends. It wasn't like one day he got a pass, or any of us for that matter. We had already been amalgamating into this cohort for a few years, based on mutual affection, trust, support, shared interests, communication, respect, humor, and more. 

The thing with me was, I struggled to exclude others. Even when I probably should have. Beyond Robby, my other close friends back in high school, and family, I've had many acquaintances and friends from many differing backgrounds. From college to work to other parents of kids ours go to school with. What I know now, but did quite understand then, was that there was always something to learn from others, friends or not. Sharing knowledge and experiences with one another was how I grew as a person and how it's shaped my life awareness and belief systems over the years. Still is.

The hard part was and is the adulting. My nature was always to be liked, and to exclude others was to not be liked. That can get you in trouble when you're in middle and high school, always trying to please, with it only to backfire on you when you do and say the wrong thing to people about other people. Mercy me I had some failures there.  

But as I failed, grew,  and evolved, there were some difficult adulting decisions to make -- getting a divorce and ending an old friendship from our long-time friend group, just to name a couple. I had to learn boundary-setting and how to exclude others when it came to my own happiness and well-being, sanity and safety, and unfortunately not always empathically either. Conversely, I had to learn that I wouldn't always be included with others and their activities, even when hubris shoved my empathy and understanding to the ground like a bully and said, "What the hell?"

And now our teens are learning about inclusion and exclusion with their own friend groups, and like most normal teens, they want to be liked and included. They need their own space, too, and boundary-setting is new to them and a struggle, but we listen and provide parental and our own experiential feedback. We tell them they don't always have to include, and they will be excluded, and that's okay. 

Boundary-setting and exclusion for well-being and safety is one thing, but exclusion based on fear, ignorance, prejudice, and to purposely hurt can lead only to painful isolation, loneliness, or worse, for both perpetrator and victim. That's a lesson for us all. 

But if they have enduring friendships based on mutual affection, trust, support, shared interests, communication, respect, humor, and more, then it's a long-term well-being win for sure. As I've written before, I'm grateful for the dear inclusive and loving friendships I've had over 40 years now. Blessings to them. I wish the same for our teens as adults. 

The Most Grateful Gift Of All

She stood with some of her classmates at the foot of the stage stairs waiting for her turn. That's when I asked the other school board member on stage to switch with me. This was a proud moment for our family and I wasn't going to miss the opportunity to hand our oldest child her promotion certificate.

No, it wasn't college or high school yet, but it was an important transitional milestone: the 8th grade. After three years of middle school, the first of which was distance learning during the heart of the pandemic, Beatrice finished strong.

We never doubted she would; she worked hard to finish strong and we supported her along the way. It does take a little more hard work for her than her sister Bryce, but regardless, she thrived. She thrived academically and socially. However, emotionally she's now a teen, so there's been some drama the past year that we've all managed to get through. 

Out of everything she experienced during middle school, leadership was and is her thing. She's getting ready to be a junior leader again for a summer day camp; she loves working with kids. She was also her favorite 6th grade teacher's teaching assistant this last semester, which sometimes gave her extra study time when he didn't have anything for her to do. She's always needed a little more support since preschool and we are so grateful for all the classroom support she's received -- from preschool to 8th grade and what will continue through her high school years to come. 

And because of all these experiences and the support she received, she's told us she may just be a teacher someday. That would be fantastic! In fact, she's told us she wants to be a teacher and an artist. 

Public schools get a bad wrap these days about the education they deliver, and funding shortfalls always make it harder for school districts to recruit and retain quality teachers. We've been fortunate to have had some amazing and supportive teachers who have delivered the highest quality education throughout the years for both our daughters. 

Being on our local school board has given me an insight into public education realities, its struggles and successes, for all the students in our district. Which is why I was so grateful and proud to be onstage during Beatrice's 8th grade promotion to congratulate all the students.

Of course, hugging my own daughter and handing her the promotion certificate was the most grateful gift of all. 

Tending to the Teamwork

It felt like my brain lurched forward and then ground to a halt. It reminded me of when I was in high school and my El Camino's timing chain broke and I threw a rod. Literally meaning the engine no longer worked and I most likely would have to replace the entire thing, which I did. 

Fortunately that wasn't the case with my brain. However, as I continued to deliver my organization's annual candidate experience award ceremony that evening after completing our conference, already exhausted from the months of preparation and handwringing, I put myself on automatic pilot. The suit and tie I hadn't worn for three years squeezed me a little tighter than the last time due to extra covid pounds. The stage spotlights bore down on me and I could no longer feel the cool conference room air on my face. 

But I kept handing out awards, and smiling, and wiping my brow, and smiling, and all the cameras kept on taking pictures and videos. While on autopilot, I could only think of two things: missing my daughter's first soccer game of the season earlier that day, and I the fact that I wouldn't even be standing there on the stage giving these awards away if it wasn't for my amazing work team. 

The first thing was a no-brainer because I always miss my family when I'm traveling for work, and they miss me. We also work well together as a team, with my wife Amy of course leading the way. When I'm not there, she still architects it all and keeps things running. When I am home, I'm an integral part of our finely tuned engine. A loving one that purrs like a kitten with the power of a 350 horses under the hood (just like my old El Camino, before I threw a rod). 

We've instilled teamwork with our two daughters and it shows wherever they are -- at home, in the classroom, on the soccer field -- wherever. And when one isn't feeling the greatest, the others step up to do whatever needs to get done. Well, most of the time that is. Our girls are teens now, you know. 

When I played football in high school, we had a banner up in the locker room that read "T.E.A.M. -- Together Everyone Achieves More." Ain't that the truth. Besides living that tagline at home, my work team embodies the same spirit. Mercy me did they ever at our first in-person conference in three years. We all wanted it to succeed, needed it to succeed, and it did. The execution and teamwork was impeccable. Not only with my team, but also with the many volunteers who helped us this year. 

Yes, my brain locked up at the end of our event, and thankfully my team had my back. Now I'm home again, exhausted and sick, and my family's taking care of me. Tending to the teamwork is a win for all. 

Being More Emo

"Oh I get so emotional baby
Every time I think of you
I get so emotional baby
Ain't it shocking what love can do..."

–Whitney Houston, So Emotional

"You know, Bryce, he's so emo," Beatrice said to her sister.

"I know, so emo," Bryce echoed. 

"Who are you talking about and what does that mean?" I asked. "What's the context? Does it mean that the person is too emotional?"

"I don't know," Bryce said. Beatrice didn't answer.

"What do you mean you don't know? You say it all the time."

"Not all the time," Bea said.

Well, maybe not all the time, I thought. But many times a week I hear our girls, now 12 and 14, use that expression.

Most of the time they're using it in a light, self-deprecating way. At least, that's what Bryce ended up telling me. When I told my wife Amy, her Kidpower training popped open and she said we need to talk with them about minimizing other people's emotions using that term. Then she laughed at herself, although still serious.

The term emo literally means "a person who is overly sensitive or emotional." And the term is used to make fun of people who do show their emotions more than others. It can also mean someone who is shy, brooding, and dark and who listens to Emo music, which is a rock music genre, post-hardcore and hardcore punk, characterized by emotional, often confessional lyrics. Not quite Whitney Houston, that's for sure. God, I'm getting old. I had no idea what all this meant when I started looking for answers online. 

Based on what I learned, I've always been emo. Never the toughest guy in the toolshed, I was always sensitive and emotional, although I struggled early on with managing my feelings, expressing myself, asking for help when I needed it. I learned over time that it's empowering being vulnerable, to be able to express my feelings and relate to other's feelings.

When I think about the broader implications of living in a society that does not embrace sharing one's feelings, especially for boys and men, I agree with my wife. We shouldn't minimize other's emotions when they're vulnerable enough to share them, because they most likely need support; we have to meet people where they are. It's much healthier to express how we feel and to be given empathic understanding in kind. Unfortunately, misogynistic societies have always denigrated others for being emotional and caring and why women are the weaker gender and are less than effective leaders than men. 

Of course, that's not true. I've got a household of effective female leaders and am proud that we talk about how we feel, how we manage our emotions, and how we provide love and support to one another and to others. So proud of our BhivePower! Our teen girls know that being more emo is the way to go and to not minimize others who are, or who aren't. 

The GOTG Top 10 2020 Days of Coronavirus Posts

This is the part where we reflect on a year like no other. The part where we're trying to stay safe and healthy. The part where we miss our family and friends. The part where, whomever we're with this holiday season, we hold onto them with all our might. 

The part where we're grateful no matter what's transpired and no matter what's ahead. 

I asked my lovely wife Amy to pick her favorite 2020 "Days of Coronavirus" Get Off The Ground posts. If you've read any of my pieces, and I thank you if you have, then I hope one of the takeaways for you is how we work hard to see everyone and everything through eyes of love.

Especially under the weight of this year, we hope you continue to effect positive change with each other through empathy and eyes of love. 

Because that's the part where we find common ground, where we heal some of our hurts, and where maybe we find a little peace on earth.

Blessings to you all this holiday season.

Here are the top 10 2020 "Days of Coronavirus" posts as chosen by my lovely wife:

10. Jenny, Jenny, Who Can I Turn To 

The part where we adopt a dog.

9. When There's Nowhere to Go

The part where we need to take care of each other. 

8. The Newest Normal

The part where we need to check in and support each other.

7. About All The Things

The part where it's okay to grieve.

6. This Bad History

The part where we live good and bad history every day.

5. The Haunted Garden

The part where you want a little normalcy in an abnormal world. 

4. The Teacher Parade

The part where you're grateful for your teachers. 

3. Our Learning Quests

The part where we keep our synapses firing and brains rewiring.

2. A Grateful Tree

The part where you write a poem every once and awhile. 

1. Choose Eyes of Love

The part where, well, you get it. 

The Family Shop Talk Time

"I'm thankful for mommy, daddy, Beatrice...and...the shelf elves," said Bryce, giggling when she said shelf elves.

This was the kick-off of yet another weekly family meeting (what we lovingly call The Family Bhive Club), where we share compliments, gratitude, appreciation and "noticing" -- something nice we notice about each other and/or ourselves that we share as a family, like being brave in everyday situations. I'm the scribe who keeps all our meeting notes in a journal and the Mama (what I lovingly call my wife) and the girls write the agenda each week on a small dry-erase board.

The Mama started these family meetings back at the end of October as a way for us to take the time to talk family shop each week about the above and other things such as:

• practicing safety skills wherever we're at, 
• homework that needs work like math and/or reading, 
• everyday self-care, 
• chores that need to get done for the allowance monies, 
• the distributing of the allowance monies (which are always asked for way before we're done with the family meeting), 
• the giving of the monies and/or related volunteering, 
• what's coming on the calendar for the week ahead for all of us, 
• and of course, at this time of the year, talking about the Christmastime -- 
• all of which we empower the girls to help with solutions.

"Christmas!" both girls will shout.

Then both girls will rattle off something new they want, more than something actually -- all the things actually -- and then they bask in the afterglow of sugar-plum want.

Then we wrap up the meeting with open sharing about whatever else is on our minds and then it's fun time. Each week fun time rotates to one of us to choose what the fun time will actually be. Usually it's in the form of playing a game together like Monopoly, Sleeping Queens, HeadBanz, etc.

No matter what's on the family meeting agenda, each one starts with the compliments, gratitude, appreciation and the noticing. It's our family holy day where we not only share with each other the reasons of why we're thankful about each other and others outsides our family, but also what we're thankful for about ourselves. This to ensure at a minimum a modicum of self-worth and love in such a sometimes hateful, self-loathing world.

For us, this is the most important of the family shop talk time, and I'm so thankful for these moments that bind us together and empower each other.

Stink. Stank. Stunk.

Our Unfathomable Love Abounds

A dear old friend just lost his son, a young man at the beginning of his adult life.

We say we can't imagine, but deep down we can and do. When you have children, you want to believe that they'll live a long life, and of course outlive you, their parents. But we worry every day on some level that something tragic might happen to them. Not consciously most of the time, although sometimes our fears break the surface tension like horrid mythical creatures that consume our very souls and obliterate the universe.

We say we can't imagine, but for those who have grappled with loss, we cry out from its belly, the darkness a black hole where no lights escapes. We cry out and ask why; maybe we blame ourselves, or we blame others, or we blame God, or we blame the abysmal soul-eating creature. Or we blame all of the above in vicious cycles that eventually unravel into some semblance of acceptance, a modicum of peace.

We say we can't imagine, but what else should we say? That we can and do imagine and this tragedy has reminded us it can happen to any of us, and that's why we're so sorry for their loss? Each death has its own context, but the resulting loss is the constant. It never varies other than the degree of painful remembrance and sorrow, but healing reconciliation is always in the long-tail of beloved memory. 

That's why it's the very collective outcry of sympathy, empathy, and the outreach of those family and friends within reach that can and does help ease the pain, whether the loss be a child, a parent, a spouse or a friend.

I say can't imagine, but I can, and I embrace the scripture my friend shared with us online:

"Out of the depths I cry to You Lord; Lord hear my voice. Let Your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy. I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in His word I put my hope. Put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with Him is full redemption." --Psalm 130

God bless you and your family, my friend. Our hearts ache and our unfathomable love abounds.