May This Force Be With You

The first time I saw it from afar was 2018. Construction was well underway during our last trip to Disneyland at the time, just beyond Frontierland, and we could see the top of the far away galaxy to come. During the summer of 2019, we were fortunate to take our family to Disney World, but were too early to see Star Wars: Galaxy's Edge; it had opened in Anaheim but not in Orlando at that point. I remember standing in front of the gate where it would open only a few months later. Yes, we love Disneyland.

If you've read my writings over the years, you also know that I love Star Wars and that it had a profound affect on me ever since the first time I saw it in 1977. That summer I was nearly 12 years old and the world was a dark and surreal place. We were in a long and steep recession, political apathy had spiked due to Watergate, and Middle East tensions ran high. Our family also experienced domestic violence and sexual and emotional abuse during the 1970's. Thankfully we had a mother who emphasized love and empathy over fear and hate, even after everything she'd been through, and we'd been through. 

At that time, Star Wars was a hopeful escapism for me with a greater theme of a positive power that could transform the universe: The Force. At the time I had become disillusioned with many things including religion, so science fiction and fantasy became my savior of sorts. 

I've been a fan ever since. When I heard Disney was building a land dedicated to Star Wars, I was out-my-mind excited. I couldn't wait. My wife and children knew I couldn't wait. But then the COVID-19 pandemic struck, and the world again became a dark and surreal place. 

We've lived through the past two years and have remained a strong, supportive, and loving family unit. My wife and I have worked hard and have been grateful to be able to provide for our family and do some fun things along the way. One of those things was planning another trip to Disneyland at the beginning of the holiday season this year (and the fact that it was safer to do so).

I finally got to see Star Wars: Galaxy's Edge for the first time. I got to see the Millennium Falcon up close, for goodness sake, and fly it. Yes, I knew it wasn't real, trust me, no matter how much I wanted it to be, but to stand in front of it and have a picture of my family letting the "Force" flow through us all was a super-thrilling and proud moment.  

Yes, proud. Because there's a real force that's empowered our family year after year, from New Year's Day to New Year's Eve. A force nurtured from practicing Kidpower physical and emotional safety skills, positive communication and relationship skills, and clear boundary-setting skills. Of course our family doesn't get these things right all the time, which is why we work on it week after week. The key is sustaining and growing; a Christmas magic that never ends. 

Even now with our girls being a teen and tween, rolling their eyes when we want them to practice these skills, they still embody them in their daily lives whether they realize it or not. And all of this force is grounded in mindfulness, love, and empathy, without ever compromising our boundaries, wellbeing, or safety, especially when others around us do. 

So, no matter how you celebrate this holiday season, may this force be with you. 

Right Within Our Hearts

"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Soon the bells will start
And the thing that'll make 'em ring is the carol that you sing
Right within your heart..."

—Bing Crosby, It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas (written by Meredith Willson)

This time the rule was broken. The rule being, we don't do or listen to anything Christmas until the day after Thanksgiving. Like ever. No matter how tempted any of us are. However, it was still one full week before Thanksgiving and one of the radio stations we flip to in the car started playing Christmas music. 

And the one person who delighted the most in finding out this musical fact was our oldest child, Beatrice. 

"Ugh. Turn the channel," I said.

"No, leave it here! I want to listen!" Bea said.

"Please, turn it," I said to my wife, Amy, sighing audibly.

"No!" Bea protested.

Our youngest child, Bryce, was oblivious, listening to her own music in the backseat.

"Let's just leave it and listen," Amy said, smiling.

"Yes, this one's my favorite," Bea said, referring to "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas."

And so it began, the Christmas season in music. All the classics. All the contemporary covers of the classics. All the originals. Pop. Rock. Alternative. Soul. R&B. Country. All. Of. Them. 

Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't like Christmas and all the music -- I love it and all the music. Our entire family loves it all. But the rule had always been followed, going back to my childhood, until now. 

It probably didn't help that we were going to Disneyland the week of Thanksgiving, which had already been decorated for the holidays since mid-November. That trip is a story for another time, but just know that Christmas music seemed to emanate from every square inch of that happiest place on earth. 

Shortly after Thanksgiving, our happiest place on earth was driving around nearby neighborhoods to see the holiday lights that people had put out so far. Not too many yet, although there were pockets of magical lights that we slowed to soak in. Of course we were listening to one of now two local radio stations that were playing nothing but holiday music. Except Bryce, who again was in the backseat listening to her own music, although I did hear some "ooo's" and "aaah's" from her watching the lights as we drove by.

Then Bea's favorite Christmas song came on, and we sang along quietly together with Bing Crosby. She doesn't sing out loud much, which is too bad, because she has such a lovely voice like her mother's. We sang along with many Christmas songs as we drove through neighborhoods looking at lights. None of the upside-down bonkers world we've been living in mattered at that moment. None of the big milestones we track for our kids mattered either. Nothing mattered except for our shared love of Christmas magic, always right within our hearts. 

Almost Perfect

Ten minutes before the game was to start, I knew it wouldn't. That's because the team we were supposed to play wasn't there. In fact, they always showed up much earlier than us for the previous two games we played then. But this time they weren't there to play our last game of the season. The league had changed the schedule two months earlier for this last game, but obviously the other team missed it somehow.

Our team, the Flamingos, was only one of four female U12 recreation soccer teams this year (10 and 11-year-olds). Participation overall had taken a hit because of the pandemic, and there weren't any rec teams playing at all in 2020. I hadn't coached since 2018, and our youngest child Bryce hadn't played since 2019. Our oldest, Beatrice, hadn't played since 2019 either, and ended up helping me with the team until she made the 8th grade soccer team (so proud!). I've had the pleasure to coach both daughters. 

Because there were only four teams in our rec league this year, we were to play each team at least three times during the season. Yes, it's a long season, over three months worth of weekly practices and games from August through November, but definitely worth it. I'm so glad my schedule allowed me to coach again. The last game of the season was supposed to be against the best team in our small league, a team that we had played better against the second time around. 

Our team was really looking forward to the last game, and then afterwards, our end-of-year soccer pizza party. It was going to be a night game, the only one of the season for us. They had all grown so much as a team; some of the girls had played before and some had never played, and they all seemed to learn a lot over the three months. Their skills improved, their support of each other blossomed, and they just plain had fun. You can see them all aglow when they know they're playing better, while having fun. Along with Beatrice being an assistant coach, another player's father also helped out, and we all had a blast coaching the team. At the end of the season, I got a card from one of the players that said, "You're the best coach I ever had." And being the Ted Lasso of recreation soccer, I embraced that.

While we waited for the other team, it became clear that they weren't coming. Our team was super excited, bounding all over the field while they warmed up. At dusk, the field lights didn't come on, so that added to the certainly we weren't playing that night. But who doesn't love playing outside at the edge of night? The weather was pleasant and the kids needed to play, play, play! So the adults and some of the players' siblings played against the team. 

It was almost perfect. Until it wasn't. 

Only moments earlier during our fun, frenetic pre-game warm-up after a long season of positive growth, one of our players felt picked on and demeaned by some of her teammates, and then she disappeared into the dimming light of dusk along the sidelines. The team had been so supportive of each other all season, that to find out something like this happened was disappointing. I didn't witness what had happened and unfortunately found out too late to address it in the moment. 

During the season, we won a few games, lost a few, and tied a few. Until that night, I felt it was mostly a "winning" season overall with skill-building, team-building, and fun. Except in the end, we lost one of our own to one bad experience, and as the leader of the team, I felt light years away from almost perfect. But as long as the girls still want to keeping playing soccer, and I hear they all do, then it's still a win for the team. 

The Positive Spread

Our first-born loved dandelions. When she was nearly two years old she loved to pick them and run with them and blow the parachuting seeds into the wind and watch them float away. She'd giggle and do it again and again until the dandelions were all gone. 

When I think about those seeds now, and how many took root where they landed for other children to pick them and blow the seeds away, I think about both our daughters and how they've taken root and grown into positive, loving, empathic, and resilient little humans. 

Our children have become what I'll call the positive spread -- sharing freely a part of their empowered positive souls wherever they go and with whoever they meet. Something it took me decades to be comfortable with. Something I still work on every day. Something we should all work on every day.

Now a tween and a teen, both of our children have grown up with positive discipline and Kidpower. They've learned a lot about natural consequences of their actions; about being calm, confident and aware wherever they go -- to be able to set healthy boundaries and always be emotionally and physically safe while inspiring others in kind. It doesn't mean they always like it when we reference these life skills they've grown up with, but even when they push back on their influence, they embody them each and every day.

I thought I was done with writing in this space, of sharing my family's journey and my own thoughts and feelings about parenting and personal leadership, and I thanked you all for reading. 

But I'm not done. Life is a work in progress and the past two months have been a deep reflection for me of what I thought I'd let go of, but instead what I've held onto. I allowed resentment and anger to reboot inside me after decades of damaged trust with myself and others I thought I had reconciled, but instead, only shuffled around inside my always hopeful heart. 

A heart full of love and optimism ever since I had picked dandelions as a child and blew seeds of hope into the wind. 

We all deserve to be loved and to be safe, and to be given the chance to learn and practice the skills that make it all reciprocally so. This is why I'm rebooting this blog to continue the positive spread that my children and my wife embody every day. I am so grateful for them. 

Blessings to you all. 

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Thank You For Reading

"I don't regret it – I'll never forget it

I wouldn't trade tomorrow for today..."

–Rush, Headlong Flight

When I first jumped into social media in 2007, I joined Myspace. Within 30 minutes of setting up my profile, I was "propositioned." 

That was almost the end right at the beginning. I didn't stay on Myspace, but I did get convinced by old high school friends to give Facebook a try. That was December of 2007, nearly 14 years ago. That was also the year I launched this blog, Get Off The Ground, a year before our first daughter Beatrice was born. 

I had already been on the professional network LinkedIn since January 2005, connecting with others in my industry sharing work-related content. That hasn't really changed since, although unfortunately some LinkedIn users have taken a toxic turn of sharing the same toxic crap we see on Facebook and Twitter (which I had joined in May of 2008). 

Social media has been valuable for many to share positive stories and to inspire others around the world. It's helped family and friends stay in touch with photos and videos. It's also been used to market products and services across industries, as well as to promote jobs and and employer brands (the HR and recruiting space I'm in). 

It also divides and destroys. It fueled COVID-19 and vaccination information, and still does. It fueled election lies and the insurrection on January 6, and still does. It fueled racial hate, and still does. For both adults and teens, bullying also thrives on social media.

You may have watched The Social Dilemma, the documentary from early 2020 that shares the dangerous and addictive destruction that social media has unleashed.

And you may have heard about the recent Wall Street Journal investigation referring to internal Facebook research about how Instagram causes increased levels of anxiety and depression and suicidal thoughts in teenage girls.

Because our girls are practically teens now, I want to be more attentive to what I share on social channels. It's usually always positive, what I write and the pictures I share, but now it's time to close this Get Off The Ground chapter and start a new one elsewhere. I will also continue to limit my personal time on the social media, as I've been doing for weeks now, except when it's work-related, or when I'm promoting safety skills with Kidpower. 

Our daughters know that they can come to us any time they see offensive or disturbing stuff online (they play Roblox primarily and watch TikTok and YouTube shows they like). While we'll hold off as long as we can from them having their own social media accounts, we'll want them to be responsible, safe and empathetic when we do so. Just like they are now, and just like we're practicing as adults now, finally, after all these years. 

From my first post on Get Off The Ground to this last post (for now), I've enjoyed sharing my parenting and personal leadership journey with you all.  I'm certainly no expert. I'm just trying to navigate it all like you are. I wouldn't change a thing; I would never trade tomorrow for today. Thank you for reading.

Be safe and well. Blessings to you all. 

In Balanced Measure

I felt horrible that day. My asthma was killing me and it literally felt that way. The math problems in front of me blurred and shifted on the pages. Every moment felt like forever; each problem I solved felt like forever.

Somehow I made it through the day and still helped our 7th grade math team do very well in the local competition. 

I was a super shy kid in grade school and early junior high with severe allergies and asthma that continued until high school, but I still participated in organized academic and sports activities. I'm so glad I did. I have so many fond memories of these activities over the years, so many friends I made, so many things learned. Memories that continued to be made through college. The social interactions and experiences were invaluable. 

However, my wife Amy and I didn't have to grow up in a pandemic that affected every facet of our lives, and continues to do so. One that has infected over 225 million people and killed nearly 5 million globally. We had the AIDS crisis growing up, which was horrible, but it didn't effect us or our families directly (that I'm aware of). There have been different strains of flu and the H1N1 virus since, but nothing like what we're dealing with in COVID-19. 

2020 sucked. Many of us will probably agree on that one. Sheltering at home, distance learning, social distancing (or not), wearing masks (or not), hospitalizations and deaths. Limited or no extracurricular  activities for our kids. Divisive polarization in nearly every community on every issue, especially COVID-19. 

Finally vaccinations are here! Infection rates are lower! Woo-hoo! The rest of 2021 is gonna rock!

Nope. But at least our daughters are back to in-person school, and are able to participate in school and other activities with their friends. Where we live, if there's a positive covid case in one of their classrooms, then they'll have to forgo activities for 8-10 days, but at least it's not forever, like it felt in 2020. 

Nope, it won't be forever. It still sucks, but not forever. Our youngest Bryce will hopefully be vaccinated before the end of the year, and until then, she'll play soccer. I'm coaching her team and her sister Beatrice is my assistant coach -- we're the Flamingos! Bryce will also play percussion in the school band (my drumming girl!), Bea is a junior guide for an outdoor after-school program, and both are getting involved in clubs and other school activities. They love being in school again with their friends and we want to keep them there. Of course, all of this activity will be in balanced measure with family time and staying healthy and safe. Amen.

One Mindful Beat at a Time

The second time I tried, I fixed it. I didn't think I'd even try again after the first time; I didn't think I'd even try the first time. Fixing things beyond my working knowledge isn't something I usually spend any time on. While my wife Amy is someone who will hop on the world wide interwebs and find how-to YouTube videos, I ask, "Who can fix it for me? Where do I get a new one?"

That has changed some for me in the past year since we've had a trailer camper, although a lot of the learning curve is still above my pay grade. And to be fair, there have been many home projects over the years where Amy and I do it ourselves, with a lot of blood, sweat, tears and cursing along the way. Mostly for me, not from her. Plus, any time there are computer, Wi-Fi or printer issues, I'm the fixer, no matter how much I grumble about it. And I grumble about it a lot.

So, when my six-month-old electronic drum set hit a snag with the snare, I was bummed. The snare sound no longer triggered each time I hit the drum head. It was under warranty still, so I contacted the manufacturer and waited. And waited. 

And while I waited, I continued to work on me. Learning, stretching, growing and improving are big parts of our family culture, and we encourage each other and our daughters to try new things, to try things we've always wanted to learn. We also encourage each other to work through our feelings about the world around us and others, all starting with how we feel about ourselves first. We check in with each other daily and during our weekly family meetings, to ensure emotional and physical safety, empathy, belonging and love. 

The pandemic continues to stress us all out unfortunately. I've been super sensitive to overreactions and divisive anger all around us, limiting my time on social media and reading the news. So much has happened over the past year and a half. So much loss. So many broken. So much helplessness of not knowing how to help. Sure, we can donate, volunteer, get activated and participate in making a difference, which we do, but it can all still lead to mental health strain and sedating. Recently after reenergizing my heart, I focused more on Amy and our daughters. And me. 

After fits and starts for decades of always wanting to play the drums, I'm actually playing the drums. Really playing them. Not in a band or anything like that. Just practicing and playing nearly every single day. Which is why when my snare broke, it bummed me out. I could still play most of my lessons, but the drum sounds were off and I felt off balance, out of synch. 

I went online and searched for "how to fix your electronic drum head." I found a few videos and settled on one that guided me on what to look for. In most of today's electric drum heads there are two sensors that pick up the vibration from hitting the drum and then those vibrations zoom along cables to the drum computer that then translates into a specific drum sound -- snare, tom, cymbal, etc. -- that emanates from my drum speakers. The sensor at the bottom of the snare picks up the rim hits, and the padded sensor at the top picks up the main drum head hits. What I found was the wire to the top sensor was severed somehow. How it happened, I had no idea, but the cut was very close to the sensor itself under a glued foam pad, so I didn't think I could fix it. 

A week later I finally heard from the manufacturer and the new snare was on back order and they'd send me an alternative drum. I said to myself, Great, but in the meantime I'm going back in. I took the snare apart again and went to work. This time I figured out I could lift the glued pad enough to reconnect the severed wire without damaging the sensor. After putting it all back together again, it worked. Right on. 

But unlike my snare, I can't fix others when they're broken. I can encourage introspection and healing, but I can't fix them. While pandemic anxiety continues to punch down on many of us, the place to start is here (I'm pointing at my own heart). I can open up my own heart and tinker with what's inside. Maybe even fix it. 

One of the latest meditations Amy I listened to states, "My relationships begin within, through love and caring for myself." Amen to that. Whether you meditate or pray, exercise or vacay, or engage in other kinds of mental health help, fix your heart first, one mindful beat at a time.