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.

People, Let Me Tell You...

I am going to be a man that loves you regardless of what you do.  I am going to be the man who tells you that you are acting selfish, mean, lovingly and beautifully. I am going to be what so many parents have warned me NOT to be. I am going to be your friend Owen, whether you realize it or not. Whether you like it or not. Whether you understand it or not.  Whether you notice, or not. Whether we even see each other, or not.

I think people have a misconstrued idea of what it means to be a friend.  I think they think it means someone who supports them in any decision they may make.  A person who is expected to hold them up and assist them in taking the next step, regardless of what it is.  Not me, I’m gonna let you struggle sometimes.  Some seem to believe that to disagree with a friend, is not to be acting friendly. Not me, you will know that I disagree with a decision you have made, if it affects others in negative way.  Some folks believe that being a friend means that your significant other will never implement boundaries, rules of engagement or consequences.  I disagree with all of that.  A friend is someone who loves you, wants you to be happy and allows you all the freedom in the world,  as long as you are not harming them or anyone else.  This is the friend you will find in me.

My friendship is flexible and it will grow with you.  I will grow alongside of you offering guidance and support.  When you are ready to grow away, I will be the rustling of the leaves near by, whispering my support for the light inside of you to grow….grow.   Even if we should be great distances apart, you will be able to feel my care, my interest, my desire for you to experience joy.

Of course the subtleties of our friendship will change over the years.  As you get older, move out of house and start out on your own I will have to let you hurt people.   We have to learn about the power of our negative thoughts, actions and non-actions.   Sometimes our actions hurt others through their resistance and their expectations.  Sometimes we hurt others by being thoughtless and unempathetic. As your friend, I will let you go and experience for yourself.

For now though, as you are under my care, you will be able to feel my friendship in the quiet of your room after you are done crying.  When you understand that I took your toys away for my own good, as well as yours.  You will feel it when you are far away with your mother and it appears that I am missing. You will hear it my voice, in years to come, when you remember me telling you,  “Get off of the computer and go read, play outside or draw.” You will remember the time I did not let you get into a car with some friend or go to some party that felt too unsafe and you will know.  You will see it in the scars and chipped tooth and know that  I DID allow you experience many of the negatives of life for yourself.

I am going to be the best damn friend a person could ask for.  That’s my plan.  That’s really the entirety of my plan, as well.  I hope it is enough.  I hope that I can serve you well dear one.

So here’s to a great friendship. Here’s to the fantastic friendship I feel we already have.  Here’s to mutual respect.  Here’s to all the laughs and other stuff.  I am so lucky to count you as a friend.

Fother

Your Father is a Mother

It’s 4:30 am.  I sit here in the semi darkness, drinking some coffee.  Besides the coffee not being Yuban and minus two or three cigarettes, I am re-enacting a ritual my mother (your Grandma) used to perform every single day.  The low glow that illuminates my face is not orange and brightened by breath as I sit on our couch, though.  When you see me first thing in the morning sitting with my laptop and coffee, you’ll notice the dim white light and fresh air which in stark contrast to my Mother’s routine. The upholstery doesn’t  smell like stale smoke, but it certainly smells better since we sprayed some enzymes on this cushion.

Grandma’s birthday has passed. Mother’s Day has just passed.  My mom has passed.  It kind of all came and went.  Since Mother’s Day it has been occurring to me that my Mom, your Grandma Macy(Gillespie), is alive and well in our house.

I don’t mean  she is walking the halls as a smokey aberration.  Rather in almost every action,  I find movements of her, memories and assumed points of view. As I stand at the sink doing dishes, I peer through the smallish window at you playing.  At the stove making mac and cheese and putting laundry out on the line while you play in the sprinkler.  From all these points of view I have seen myself, looking up through the eyes of my child self and I must say, I look a lot like my Mom.

Not until you were born, in fact not until recently, do I find myself having the same the thoughts or same visual experiences that I imagine my mother having when she was raising my brother and I.  Not until recently have I seriously considered that my depressed and alcoholic mother and I shared much of anything in terms of ‘point of views.’

Today, I find myself watching you with her minds eye.  My own mind is filled with the feelings of contented joy and purpose that she must have felt while raising us. The excitement that must have coursed through her veins as Tim and I caught things on fire in the kitchen while she napped.  The profound sadness in her tears when I told her I hated her for not letting me “bob for apples” one summer.  I see, through her memory, the joy of your first water balloon, sprinkler dash and homemade orange juice popsicle.  I remember her smiling as I smile now.

I  remember seeing in her eyes, the same emotion and clarity that I feel when I am with you Owen.  I understand how the loss of this obvious sense of oneness, in the growing and the exiting of our children, must be considered a great physical loss.  

I remember this feeling, I never had, of watching Dad leave for work.  Now, that I am the one who sends off his domestic partner with a “Have a nice day.” and “What would you like for dinner?”  I find that all the years of being raised by my mother at home, with all the passive learning, blossoming inside of me, as I believe ‘Motherhood’ blossomed inside of her.  The ‘home school education’ concerning the routine and rhythms that I would feel so strongly affirmed now.  Something feels right about staying home with you Owen, and doing many of the things my own mother did with and for me.

Was I conditioned to these motherly ways during my lopsided domestic influence, or somehow predispositioned to slide into this traditionally feminine role?  I don’t know. One thing for sure, the ‘stay at home Dad’ is a phenomenon that is growing.  Although it was a little challenging to give up the independence and money that I was making, I find myself utterly content and filled with a real sense of joy when we get  up early in the morning, blast “Eye of the Tiger” or the “Tao of Pooh”.  I Love driving around Black Lake early in the morning, going with you…..anywhere.  I feel a bit feminine and blessed when I am cooking meals for us or when we join up with a bunch of Mom’s for a play date.

I start to understand the loss of self mothers begin to feel when children leave.  I also witness, from this point of view, the pain and sorrow of the traditionally masculine roles the of ‘nine to fiver’. While his job is no more difficult, how painful it must be, to be compelled to leave. There is much less choice and freedom in his day and I can understand the pain and
resentments that exist.

All in all Owen I am very pleased to be your Fother.  I consider it a rare and beautiful opportunity filled with so many role contradictions and creations.  There is nothing that feels more appropriate than this domestic, daily life we share.  It feels strangely familiar and new at the same time.  It is the perfect role for me now and as we look for jobs every morning together I realize that my situation is temporary.  I will not always hear your footsteps coming down the hall, sleepily, to come cuddle up with me first thing.  It is a rare, beautiful time.  I am thankful…..to God, to you, to Moms and beyond.

Leadership

Your dad lacks ambition, Owen. It’s not that I lack drive or a good solid work ethic; it’s just that I don’t need for there to be a particular ‘end game.’ Some people ask me, “Well, what about setting goals?” I set goals; they are just a little more general than others. My goals are contentedness, fullness and happiness. Well, that really gets some people questioning my sanity.

I always thought ‘goal setting’ was a little untrue to the scientific method taught to us early, as a way to determine the truth of any particular function. One of the keys to the success of this process is to refrain from assumption. Not ‘trying to prove’ a theory is taught as an important frame of mind for many professions like science, inventing, exploration, journalism, observation and evaluation. Not limiting oneself to the notions that one can imagine is so important to the function of growth, especially if that growth is to be extraordinary.

I am a good worker. I work hard, with integrity and often assume leadership roles as needed. This has helped to land me jobs as Kitchen Manager, Chef, Sous Chef and various positions in the Food Service Industry that involve being classified as a leader. These days son, I watch as other younger men and women pass by me on ‘The Road of Success’, as it were. Much to the bewilderment of partners and family members, I might add. I am happy to play my part as an informed citizen in the place that I work though. I thought I would try and explain why this is, as some of the people closest to me seem to not understand my philosophy regarding promotions and ambition.

First of all, I believe leadership should be spontaneous, temporary and fleeting. Our society and especially our corporations are built upon the notion that ‘strong, stable leadership’ is the way to strength. Management positions are often vied for, and there are immediate changes in personality when one is promoted… in most cases. And in my case. In almost every instance of my promotions, no matter how cognizant I was of my actions, I changed the way I acted and talked to the people I now supervised. In fact, most companies advise that you change your social interactions with the people you manage. If you used to go out for beers with them, stop. Upon your ‘knighthood’ into management al l of society seems to promote the idea that you are now separate from the others. This ironically dilutes your effectiveness as someone people want to listen to. Retaining the flexibility and relations that got me the promotion in the first place were immediately degraded the moment I put on my title.

I believe leadership should be fluid. The best instances of leadership occur as needed, sometimes by more than one person. I witness ‘group leadership’ daily where I work. Often it seems that the people that are getting paid substantially more than I have the least understanding of what is actually going on where I work. This is a common complaint amongst the working class. In the end analysis, I am not convinced that management positions are any more than a training position. This, if viewed this way, makes perfect sense. How else to really get a feel and appreciation for what everyone is doing, than to step back and get a “super vision” of the situation. I often am reminded of the military training technique that puts a different person in charge for every single training mission. No complacency, no laziness, no assumptions, no guarantees of power and exclusiveness. You are a leader, for now.


So, I don’t take promotion hints and offers these days because I like who I am better as a regular. I feel just as empowered, if not more so with this title. I can say whatever I want and not be responsible for others actions. Why would I want that? Sure more money would be nice, but there are multiple studies out now that prove that after a certain amount of money, happiness is not increased. I have lots of freedom, I make plenty of money and I still assume leadership roles when appropriate….then I slip back into the rank and file, where we all end up eventually anyways. At ease.

Great X-Mastations

Hey there little elfkin. Just wanted to reflect with you, a bit, on your first holiday season. We are now in early January and approaching your first birthday. This is my favorite time of Winter, after Thanksgiving, Christmas and News Years. It is much more quiet, peaceful and generally reminds me more of the Jesus Christ than the weeks previous.

You seemed to enjoy your first Christmas. You kind of got the whole 'open your present' thing, but mostly you were only invested for a minute or two in any one gift. You had little expectation for what Christmas was supposed to be and it was nice to see you so happy. But your amazingly happy most of the time. People comment on it, randomly in the grocery store, family get-togethers and what not. It has only been in the last couple of weeks that I have noticed you crying more when something has been taken away that you were using or interested in.
You cry now when you want something or when something happens that surprises or startles you. This is all fine and well, and totally natural. It is also a little sad. The little creature that seemed perfectly happy just being alive, may be transforming into the little human that we are ALL more familiar with.

A great man, or at least a very good man that I know once told me, "All of life's pain comes from expectation."
He was telling me this as he easily brought me to my knees in some friendly sparring. Though he was using this to demonstrate the ineffectiveness of trying to predict or anticipate an attackers intention, he also brought this notion up when discussing life's more mental and emotional pains. I have found this to be one of the most profound truths in my life. Another profound truth, that seems to run perpendicular to our societies ideas of happiness.

As far as the holiday season is concerned it abounds with expectations. We expect to get some gifts, we are expected to give some. We expect people to smile (even if faked) and tell us how much they like our present. They expect to hear from us how much we loved they're present. We expect to get a 5X7 glossy photo of friends and relatives who otherwise are mute for the year, and they kinda expect us to hang they're likenesses on our refrigerator. We expect the car next to us to LET US IN! We expect there to be ham. There should be wrapping, lights, trees, chocolates and record spending. This is the ultimate time of expectations, ironically at a time when we claim to celebrate the opposite quality. Giving without any expectation is the declared goal, but few of us attain that goal, in fact few of us bother pursuing it. The fact is son, the more I find myself living without expectations from other people, or even myself....the happier I am.

As we come upon your birthday, a son was born on the coldest day of the year January 13th. I will intend to father you with no expectations. I expect I will fail at times with this. Maybe though if I just intend it, with no expectation of failure, I'll be more successful. We'll see I guess. Love you, Pa.