So yesterday, while trying to seal a leaky sunroof, I was the victim of many low-level flybys. My harrasser was a bluebird. I figured a nest was nearby and the bird was just being protective, so I relocated and went about my fruitless attempt to prevent water from seeping into my car.
Needless to say, I was right about the bird. This morning I took my dogs for a walk, and there was a baby bird, hopping and fluttering his way around my backyard. I'm sure mom was nearby watching, but she gave the youngster some space. I thought about how scary it must be for this tiny bird to be in this huge world. Here I was, short by most accounts but absolutely massive to this bird, along with 2 lunging dogs who wanted nothing more than to see how yummy the bird was. But it paid us no special attention. It hopped and fluttered, occasionally watching us as we walked nearby. Seeing the bird out there on its own, for some reason, made me remember a conversation I had last week.
Have you ever noticed how everything today is about "the children". I don't have children, yet I am in a world where people are constantly worried about kids and what they see (or "might" see) and what they do. People are so paranoid about the prospect of children seeing something they shouldn't. Why can't parents be more like the bird? Why do we have to coddle kids these days? I'm sure people have always focused on "the children", but back when I played T-Ball, not every single kid who wore a uniform was given an award at the end of the year. That happens now apparently. They give "extra special" awards to those who come in first place, but even the Bad News Bears, in today's day and age, would get a certificate of some sort.
Why is this? How is this cultivating any sort of work ethic or drive? When kids display a sense of entitlement, why should anyone be surprised? They don't, on their own, think that they automatically deserve something for showing up; they are trained to be that way by foolish parents, coaches, administrators, etc. This is an age where, so I've heard, some schools don't allow teachers to use red pens when grading papers because it may damage a child's psyche. Seriously? This is a joke, right?
Kids are handled as fragile little objects, like a Faberge Egg or something so precious that it can't be tainted. Meanwhile, they curse, skip school, don't do homework, stay out after the streetlights come on....they do everything that WE did (and more). So who or what are we trying to protect them from? Being a productive member of society? Being a good worker who doesn't NEED a reward in order to do a job...nevertheless a good job.
I don't understand the mentality of people today and their desire to make everything about the kids. Is it wrong for a child to fail school or get a bad grade? Doesn't failing help the child to see that he needs to put forth effort to succeed. Why do parents review their kid's homework? Isn't that the job of the teacher? If little Johnny didn't do his work, he should be penalized IN SCHOOL for it. If he performs poorly on his homework, he should be made to suffer the consequences....just like we did. But not today. Today, parents sit down and DO THE HOMEWORK. Ridiculous if you ask me.
I think parents should be a little more like the mother bird, protective but keeping some distance between themselves and their offspring. Let your kid fall and scrape his knee without you standing at the ready with hand sanitizer. Let your kid earn a "C" and learn how to earn an "A". Let your kid hop and flutter about....eventually he will learn to fly.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Knowing When to Say When
Ever hear that saying, "My mouth gets the best of me"? That is me in a nutshell. I was once asked in a job interview what my greatest strengths and weaknesses were. For each question, I provided the same answer: Passion.
Passion as a strength is a wonderful trait to have. It allows you to experience the ultimate highs, even when faced with the most mundane of tasks. When you have passion, you can make nearly anything enjoyable, and your passionate attitude can become infectious to those around you.
Passion as a weakness is, in many ways, the same thing. It can affect the others around you, but depending on your position in relation to them, it can be terribly influential. Now, sometimes, that is a good thing; there IS strength in numbers. But other times, it can have the opposite effect and can make those in a position above you wary, or angry, or spiteful towards you and those who have taken your lead.
One of the biggest issues I am trying to learn to overcome is my passion and its influence over my mouth. Sometimes I care so much that come hell or high water, I am going to state my peace, and I don't give a damn who agrees or disagrees. And therein lies the problem. I love to argue and debate, and it is that part of me that enters into the mix and throws my passion into a frenzy. It makes me want to shout from the hilltops, "I'm right dammit, and you're too stupid to realize it". Sadly, this isn't always the truth, and while I might not necessarily be right, THEY are not necessarily wrong. Coming to grips with this is a work in progress. Sometimes it takes a kind word to talk me down off the edge of the building before my mouth encourages me to jump---so to speak.
So like the Budweiser ads used to say, I have to know when to say when. When to fight my battles and when to take a back seat and let things play out. Like I said, its a work in progress.
Passion as a strength is a wonderful trait to have. It allows you to experience the ultimate highs, even when faced with the most mundane of tasks. When you have passion, you can make nearly anything enjoyable, and your passionate attitude can become infectious to those around you.
Passion as a weakness is, in many ways, the same thing. It can affect the others around you, but depending on your position in relation to them, it can be terribly influential. Now, sometimes, that is a good thing; there IS strength in numbers. But other times, it can have the opposite effect and can make those in a position above you wary, or angry, or spiteful towards you and those who have taken your lead.
One of the biggest issues I am trying to learn to overcome is my passion and its influence over my mouth. Sometimes I care so much that come hell or high water, I am going to state my peace, and I don't give a damn who agrees or disagrees. And therein lies the problem. I love to argue and debate, and it is that part of me that enters into the mix and throws my passion into a frenzy. It makes me want to shout from the hilltops, "I'm right dammit, and you're too stupid to realize it". Sadly, this isn't always the truth, and while I might not necessarily be right, THEY are not necessarily wrong. Coming to grips with this is a work in progress. Sometimes it takes a kind word to talk me down off the edge of the building before my mouth encourages me to jump---so to speak.
So like the Budweiser ads used to say, I have to know when to say when. When to fight my battles and when to take a back seat and let things play out. Like I said, its a work in progress.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Give It Another Shot
I just returned from my 8 billionth doctor's appointment. First, a little backstory:
In April 2008, I was at work and about to clock out. After a playful tussle with a female co-worker, I lifted her, fireman-carry style, and walked her around the parking lot, eventually arriving at her car. When I lifted her, I immediately saw stars. I had picked her up at an awkward angle, and the torque it created on my back, I eventually discovered, caused a herniation at my L4/5 disc. I have since had back surgery and have seen probably 8 different doctors because the surgical procedure did not resolve the main issue.....the persistent pain in my ass. No, this is no play on words. I literally have a pain in my ass. It never goes away or lessens.
Today, I went to my second appointment with a particular doctor, this one a pain management specialist. I've seen others of his ilk and they were unsuccessful, but at the direction of my most recent physician, I am now seeing Dr. S. He is very straightforward and looks like a mix of Andrew Dice Clay and Sylvester Stallone....but with a Jewish last name. I actually like his No B.S. approach. His recommendation, like many of the others, is to get a shot right into the piriformis muscle, which we believe is the source of my discomfort. This, however, is not my first rodeo. I have had a previous shot into the muscle, but it didn't affect the pain at all----except the one in my wallet as these things can be expensive. Needless to say, he assured me this time it would be cheaper.
Does hope spring eternal? Is Andrew Dice Stallone Rabinowitz my savior or is he just another in a long line of failed attempts? Do I give him one more shot? I am trying to remain positive and think that finally I will get some relief, but I guess that remains to be seen. Perhaps I will get my answer on Thursday after my 8 a.m. appointment. I just have to remember to warn him that, if he is successful, he should be prepared for my celebratory hug since I will hardly be able to contain myself.
In April 2008, I was at work and about to clock out. After a playful tussle with a female co-worker, I lifted her, fireman-carry style, and walked her around the parking lot, eventually arriving at her car. When I lifted her, I immediately saw stars. I had picked her up at an awkward angle, and the torque it created on my back, I eventually discovered, caused a herniation at my L4/5 disc. I have since had back surgery and have seen probably 8 different doctors because the surgical procedure did not resolve the main issue.....the persistent pain in my ass. No, this is no play on words. I literally have a pain in my ass. It never goes away or lessens.
Today, I went to my second appointment with a particular doctor, this one a pain management specialist. I've seen others of his ilk and they were unsuccessful, but at the direction of my most recent physician, I am now seeing Dr. S. He is very straightforward and looks like a mix of Andrew Dice Clay and Sylvester Stallone....but with a Jewish last name. I actually like his No B.S. approach. His recommendation, like many of the others, is to get a shot right into the piriformis muscle, which we believe is the source of my discomfort. This, however, is not my first rodeo. I have had a previous shot into the muscle, but it didn't affect the pain at all----except the one in my wallet as these things can be expensive. Needless to say, he assured me this time it would be cheaper.
Does hope spring eternal? Is Andrew Dice Stallone Rabinowitz my savior or is he just another in a long line of failed attempts? Do I give him one more shot? I am trying to remain positive and think that finally I will get some relief, but I guess that remains to be seen. Perhaps I will get my answer on Thursday after my 8 a.m. appointment. I just have to remember to warn him that, if he is successful, he should be prepared for my celebratory hug since I will hardly be able to contain myself.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Mediate or meditate?
So this morning I had a mediation hearing for a long-standing lawsuit (the second one to be exact) that my homeowner's association, of which I am the President, has pending against our insurance company. To make a long story more tolerable, we were hit by Hurricane Wilma back in 2005, and our insurance company decided that they wanted to do everything in their power to screw us over. We won our original lawsuit. Needless to say, they have asked for, and received, a mediation hearing in order to try to settle before going to court. Our attorney led us down the garden path with claims that "we have them where we want them" and that we could be awarded as much as 9x our original award. Apparently, that garden path is now overgrown with weeds. What we saw as a 7 figure settlement, they see as a 6 figure lawsuit. And all we are trying to do is recoup the monies we have paid out. In the end, we walked away, unsatisfied and dejected.
A few weeks ago, I might have been screaming obscenities and my blood pressure, almost assuredly, would have skyrocketed. But today, I was the level head. I was the one saying that this was the first step and to let the process play out, while others around me were ready to jump from the 18th story window of our meeting place. I think that this path I'm currently pursuing, unlike the false path of our attorney's claim, is what is responsible for my altered mental status today. Today was so not normal for me. Today could almost be classified as temporary insanity and yet it was probably me at my most sane. I think that that is what I am learning---that what I consider to be normal and correct is really crazy and quite wrong. Perhaps not wrong in the grand scheme of wrongs...but still wrong.
As we left the scene of the crime, I thought to myself, "rather than mediate, I should've spent the last few hours meditating". But now, several hours later, I realize that although I wasn't chanting with my eyes closed and focusing on the sensation of my breath at the tip of my nose, today's events were as enlightening as any meditation session could be.
A few weeks ago, I might have been screaming obscenities and my blood pressure, almost assuredly, would have skyrocketed. But today, I was the level head. I was the one saying that this was the first step and to let the process play out, while others around me were ready to jump from the 18th story window of our meeting place. I think that this path I'm currently pursuing, unlike the false path of our attorney's claim, is what is responsible for my altered mental status today. Today was so not normal for me. Today could almost be classified as temporary insanity and yet it was probably me at my most sane. I think that that is what I am learning---that what I consider to be normal and correct is really crazy and quite wrong. Perhaps not wrong in the grand scheme of wrongs...but still wrong.
As we left the scene of the crime, I thought to myself, "rather than mediate, I should've spent the last few hours meditating". But now, several hours later, I realize that although I wasn't chanting with my eyes closed and focusing on the sensation of my breath at the tip of my nose, today's events were as enlightening as any meditation session could be.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
It's all in my head
So, I'm on this "path" to find a better me. To say good words, do good things, and think good thoughts. Along the way, I've dabbled in meditation, and one of the issues that one encounters while meditating is called "monkey mind". This is a state where your mind jumps around from thought to thought during a time when it is supposed to become calmer. It is typical and actually helps one to focus on the actual meditation. In today's world, we are constantly being bombarded from every direction by stimuli. Our minds react to this stimuli, and it is not uncommon to have many thoughts going through our minds concurrently. As a matter of fact, as I write this blog, I am listening to a song from the 80's. I can type, compose, listen, and sing all at the same time, and my mind barely takes notice, yet when I try to relax my mind and focus on one single thing...like my breathing for example...it is incredibly difficult.
So back now to my original intention in this particular blog--thinking good thoughts. Given my profession and the rude nature of far too many people that I encounter on a day-to-day basis, I find it increasingly difficult to not think bad thoughts. Yesterday, as I watched the US Soccer team playing Ghana in The World Cup, there were a couple of guys in the bar, and they were having a lengthy conversation about rugby. Yes, its a fine sport, but there were only 5 minutes left in the extra period, and hearing their conversation incensed me. We were losing! Didn't they know what was going on? The bar was full of patrons, breathlessly hoping to tie the game. It was life and death, and these guys had the audacity to be talking about Rugby!! My friend Justin was having the same reaction as I was and eventually said something....probably much more politely than I would have been. They apologized and returned their attention to the desperate game. But, in the end, it didn't matter...we lost and were eliminated from the tournament. I soon realized that my negative thoughts and the things that I wanted to say distracted me so much from the game, that I had to come home and re-watch the ending.
In retrospect, I'm kind of embracing the not-so-good thoughts as just another example of my monkey brain. If a rose didn't die so quickly, would we find it so beautiful? If I didn't think negative thoughts...and believe me, I do....would I be so receptive to my good thoughts? Is thinking bad thoughts a necessary part of NOT thinking bad thoughts? I think it is, so I'm not going to chastize myself for thinking something bad, I'm just going to try to accept it and move on. Hopefully, I'll have this issue resolved in 4 years just in time for the next World Cup.
So back now to my original intention in this particular blog--thinking good thoughts. Given my profession and the rude nature of far too many people that I encounter on a day-to-day basis, I find it increasingly difficult to not think bad thoughts. Yesterday, as I watched the US Soccer team playing Ghana in The World Cup, there were a couple of guys in the bar, and they were having a lengthy conversation about rugby. Yes, its a fine sport, but there were only 5 minutes left in the extra period, and hearing their conversation incensed me. We were losing! Didn't they know what was going on? The bar was full of patrons, breathlessly hoping to tie the game. It was life and death, and these guys had the audacity to be talking about Rugby!! My friend Justin was having the same reaction as I was and eventually said something....probably much more politely than I would have been. They apologized and returned their attention to the desperate game. But, in the end, it didn't matter...we lost and were eliminated from the tournament. I soon realized that my negative thoughts and the things that I wanted to say distracted me so much from the game, that I had to come home and re-watch the ending.
In retrospect, I'm kind of embracing the not-so-good thoughts as just another example of my monkey brain. If a rose didn't die so quickly, would we find it so beautiful? If I didn't think negative thoughts...and believe me, I do....would I be so receptive to my good thoughts? Is thinking bad thoughts a necessary part of NOT thinking bad thoughts? I think it is, so I'm not going to chastize myself for thinking something bad, I'm just going to try to accept it and move on. Hopefully, I'll have this issue resolved in 4 years just in time for the next World Cup.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Ahhh, the weekend
There is something so wonderful about that drive home on the last day of the work week. Even though my drive lasts all of about 4 minutes, its the decompression of a week's worth of garbage. This week, I only worked 3 days, yet I somehow managed to completely load my mental plate with everyone else's scraps. It is a relief to hear the click of that freshly punched clock and feel the night's humid breath on my face as I leave.
I've always said that I would never "wish my week away". My justification for this statement was thus: so many people, in the midst of their hectic work week , cling to the statement, "I can't wait until this weekend." It made me think, if I were to do that every week that I worked, I would be wishing away 5/7 of my life, and that just doesn't cut it. No, no matter how stressful, mundane, or tiresome my week's events would leave me, I would always embrace the chaos and savor those 5/7. But now as I get older and am in a wonderful marriage, I feel that I am finally able to enjoy the week's end and all that it has to bring. Rather than simply wish for my weekend, I patiently anticipate it....then hug the ever-loving hell out of it when it finally arrives.
This weekend is unlike most. My sister and her family were here last week. They have since departed (more on that later), and now my brother-in-law's family will be coming into town tomorrow. While I absolutely relish ME time, I am content that his kids are coming because I know that it will afford him the chance to satisfy one of MY dreams.....attending a World Cup match. He has tickets for Argentina v Mexico, and he is flying out on Saturday. I hope that, despite the fact that he is travelling with standby flight tickets, he will arrive in time for the game and that it is a magical one. Hopefully, I will be swimming in my own happiness and savoring a US victory over Ghana----I can't wait for that game, but as with my weekend, I am not wishing it to be here. Not yet. I still have 15 and a half hours.....and I wouldn't dream of wishing those away.
I've always said that I would never "wish my week away". My justification for this statement was thus: so many people, in the midst of their hectic work week , cling to the statement, "I can't wait until this weekend." It made me think, if I were to do that every week that I worked, I would be wishing away 5/7 of my life, and that just doesn't cut it. No, no matter how stressful, mundane, or tiresome my week's events would leave me, I would always embrace the chaos and savor those 5/7. But now as I get older and am in a wonderful marriage, I feel that I am finally able to enjoy the week's end and all that it has to bring. Rather than simply wish for my weekend, I patiently anticipate it....then hug the ever-loving hell out of it when it finally arrives.
This weekend is unlike most. My sister and her family were here last week. They have since departed (more on that later), and now my brother-in-law's family will be coming into town tomorrow. While I absolutely relish ME time, I am content that his kids are coming because I know that it will afford him the chance to satisfy one of MY dreams.....attending a World Cup match. He has tickets for Argentina v Mexico, and he is flying out on Saturday. I hope that, despite the fact that he is travelling with standby flight tickets, he will arrive in time for the game and that it is a magical one. Hopefully, I will be swimming in my own happiness and savoring a US victory over Ghana----I can't wait for that game, but as with my weekend, I am not wishing it to be here. Not yet. I still have 15 and a half hours.....and I wouldn't dream of wishing those away.
And so it begins...
I will forego the usual "Why did I start a blog" mishmash and just get on with it. Everyone has something to say, right? Sometimes, these diatribes can go on and on while other times 140 words are sufficient. For me, I'm approaching a point in my life where I can forsee change is imminent. No, this isn't the typical mid-life crisis that one encounters in the waning months of his 30's. I'm content with my age and my status in life. I have never been one to want, and I could care less for titles and money. I am happy being happy. Rather, the 3 steps of my path involves the following: DO GOOD THINGS, SPEAK GOOD WORDS, THINK GOOD THOUGHTS. This is based around Buddhist principles, something I have been reading about quite a bit lately. I am finding that adhering to these principles is far more difficult than I had anticipated.....but I guess that is why it is a journey. And that is why I have chosen to start blogging; it is the new millenium version of the diary (and hopefully a more masculine method of documenting one's thoughts).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)