Effort: Less Son

As a boy I cannot remember ever thinking about the concept of effort.  Everything I did from kickball to arithmetic seemed primed with enthusiasm and a desire to simply do my best.  I think we are all born with that natural instinct.  Then at some point, I lost that natural balance of wanting to do something and being completely content about what I was doing in the moment. At some point my pure desire to experience the truths of life, was replaced with the fear of the future.  I fearfully tried to prepare against it.  I worked hard, long days for hardly any money.  In fact, after working 60 plus hours for years,my restaurant closed and I owed money.  No closer was I, to being fearless (said in Yoda's voice).

I remember being read stories of Brer Rabbit as a young boy, growing up in Durham.  I remember the Tar-Baby and how, through his rage motivated efforts, he managed to get himself completely stuck.

Lots of kids, perhaps, came away with a clear message concerning race relations in the south.  I remember thinking ol’ rabbit was working too hard.  If he would just focus on the Bear necessities….oh wait, that’s a different story. Anyway the lessons  and messages were all around me, “Don’t worry, and don’t work too hard.”  Yet, the exact opposite message was also drumming louder and louder, every school year it seemed, “Work harder and be MORE concerned with the future and what others think you ought to be doing.”  As most of the people espousing the latter philosophy were adults, I dived headfirst into the world of expectations, effort and pride. They were adults after all, they must understand how this life thing is done, right?  Wrong.  Like ‘ol Brer Rabbit I got stuck.  Covered in other people’s ideals, beliefs and goals. The fact is the less you find yourself having to “work” at something, the more likely you are to have a desirable outcome.  Especially if your desired outcome is happiness.

I suppose I need to clarify.

Work is good.  In this life there are certain things that need to  be accomplished if you want to live. You need to hunt buffalo, build your home and collect the firewood (There is a good chance these particular chores will be less relevant by the time you read this). There is some amount of effort needed on your part for simply surviving.  We humans though, we have really upended our garden of ‘Eden’.  I have done it.  Working 40 plus hours a week at  a job we barely  tolerate, pursuing people who barely tolerate us. We’re assured this is how things are accomplished. “Keep at it.” we are told, over and over again.

I remember breaking up with my first ‘real’ girlfriend.  Not the first time I had sex, but the first time I had lived with someone and shared the intimacies of daily life.  I’d say the first woman I ever loved, but I think she was right in the end, I did not love her.  The break up was heart (ego) wrenching and dramatic, at least for me, but we agreed the break-up needed to happen.  She moved far away but for some reason I felt like I needed to pursue her. I guess I had determined that the relationship had only failed because of my lack of effort.  I was sure that I wanted her back, though not completely sure why.  I remember talking to my mom and her saying, “Drew, if you love her, you’ve got to follow her. Go tell her how you feel!”, or something like that.  So, with my mother’s feminine endorsement and financial backing I called the ex to tell her, in my most failing, wobbly and self-possessed demeanor, “I am coming to see you!”  Expecting the afore experienced acquiescence she replied curtly, “Drew, don’t”.  Our relationship did not end as storybooks do.  All the life coaches, who called for effort filled with effort were unceremoniously knocked from their displays. I no longer believed  in the power of effort.  

My Dad used to say, “Son, there is the easy way and then there is the hard way.”  I am not sure he knew what that would come to mean to me.  I don’t put a lot of effort into anything, really, these days. Is that what he meant?  I just do things…...slowly usually. The ancient Celts used to speak of the importance of the Bradan not ‘pushing the river.’  In other words, don’t peddle downhill.  Know when to rest, and when to let things pass by.  Know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em.  Or, as another linguistically challenged poet once wrote, “Que sera, sera.”  Whatever will be will be.  You know what?....... that’s all true, kind of.  I would urge you to ‘do’.  Intend, create and work.  It is satisfying to the soul, if done correctly, and in the right spirit. There are times, though, when all the effort in the world will not change anything. There is a balance to be found in there, somewhere for you. It’s your personal rhytym.  Always do your best and find that rhythm, dear one.  Dance that crazy little dance.  Not the Tar-Baby dance, that one is really boring, unsatisfying and requires a tremendous amount  of clean-up. Try that robot-surfer one you do, that one seems pretty cool.

Bargain Summer

A summer to remember is what this summer has been.  Not because we went to Disneyland, Wild Waves, Hawaii or anywhere that cost any money.  It was not awesome because we went on a 10-day hike, pet a Grizzly bear went river rafting.  It will be remembered, at least by me, as a great summer because we spent it together, and it was the summer before you officially started school.

We have done some pretty cool things though, albeit they we mostly free and local.  Remember that bike ride we took down the Western Chehalis, where we saw that owl and ate lunch by that pond

which had all those lily pads?  Remember when we were riding over I-5 with all those ‘hills’ screaming “I am getting freezing!!!” and how you got caught up in the moment and forgot to break, blowing through roundabout? How about that hamburger we ate after we spent the day out on the beach?  Or how about our hike down to the sound where you crossed your first ‘log bridge’ by yourself.

We are lucky enough to have a neighborhood pool, and this was the ‘summer of swim’.  We went almost every day.  It the first year that you swam in the deep end and could touch the bottom.  Just last night you swam to the bottom of the pool and grabbed a toy from the floor of the deep end.  There is such joy in your eyes when we swim together.  The swimming goggles I bought myself were well worth their exorbitant price of 18 dollars, just to look into your goggles and see them filled with bliss and just a little water.  Thumbs up, whale cries and underwater death stares were all part of the fun this year.  Momma probably wouldn’t love the lifeless and limp pose I taught you, as you silently float to the floor of the pool but it feels kind of peaceful doesn’t it?  A nice palate cleanser, if you will, for the times when I launch you into the air.

It’s been a cheap and fantastic Summer with you Owen.  Making my current lack of money well worth it.  In fact, all the driving together on the weekend, as I try and get my yard sale hustle on was pretty awesome too.  All the people we met, all the homes we have driven past countless times wondering, “what type of folk live there?”  I have lived in a lot of places, just in this town, and it was cool to share those places and kind of reconnect with this town with you.  

We will be going on large hikes, epic water slides, fantastical theme parks and beautiful islands.  Some of these things we will be doing rather soon.  It is good to know that we can be so satiated with the simple things, isn’t it?  Isn’t it reassuring that life can be blissful, even with the simplest of activities or sometimes with no activity at all?

I hope you have enjoyed our bargain rate Summer, this last one before you start school. I know I have enjoyed it, beyond measure.  I am going to try and figure out some sort of employment scheme that will allow me to continue this shared experience, because I can’t imagine not spending Summers with you.

Mattress Over Mind

“Alert!  Alert!”

You said this as you got ready for bed last night and looked in the mirror (It’s interesting to  see what our emotions look like, right?). You seemed to be practicing the look of ‘apprehension’, like you practice your air kisses and winks.  As if you were practicing an essential social skill.   From  your stolen glances over my shoulder at my Facebook feed to the forgotten, cranked-up car stereo blaring out the news, “...children murdered….” as I turn the ignition, it surely must appear that the whole world is on the brink of destruction.

We don’t watch T.V. at our house.  We watch Netflix only.  This means that we control what you see at home, to a large extent.  That has been  your Mother and I’s intention.  We want the home to feel secure to you, a safe and cuddly place.  I hope it does, though I am not sure the video cameras and alarm system add or subtract fear in the ‘comfort equation’.  This sphere of control is very limited, I have found out.  The center of the sphere is in the closet, where the Wi-Fi router is.  Outside of that, as soon as we pull out of the driveway….well... it appears as if almost anything goes in this wacky, wacky world.

I remember when you were four, and your protective and thoughtful Fother took you for our first fother/son haircut at a real barber.  You know, the one without the ‘car chairs’ and with all the ‘dark skinned guys.’  Everything was going well, your haircut complete.  You sat on the chair and watched me get my haircut.  Then you saw the television.  Then I saw the television.  I figured with so little hair to cut, I would be done in minute or so.  I neglected to predict the inordinate amount of ‘over buzzing’ and body hair removal  my barber would feel it necessary to augment my slightly unnecessary haircut with.  You then saw one of the most horrifying scenes television has ever given us: The Charlie Hebdo shooting in Paris.  Certainly one of the most confusing thing a four year old could see.  I literally laughed out loud at the futility of  your parent’s efforts, as the gunmen walked down the road killing people. The screen displayed it’s wide spectrum of rage and you openly soaked it up. I laughed with disbelief as the barber stared, with you, in solemnity.

This world has so many scary things in it.  So many opportunities for you to give up on it, on us and on the whole thing.  When this happens, I have only one piece of advice: take a nap.  Perhaps a wiser person would urge you to meditate and touch your Godliness within.  “What is so great about a nap?” you may ask. It stops you from thinking.  Regardless of what adults may tell you, thinking will not bring you peace or joy.  It will not alleviate the fear.

“Stop thinking, and end your problems.” -Lao Tzu, 550 BCE

“Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?”  -Jesus

“Take a nap.  I always feel better after a  nap”  -Dad

Turn off the “Alarm, Alarm!” clock and check out for a bit. After you are well rested, maybe then you can work on creating some more sweetness in this world of ours.

I hope this helps.