Month: May 2016

I must admit it.  I believe in evolution.  To be honest, it’s pretty hard to deny if you really think about it.  If you don’t believe me, maybe you’ll see things my way by the time you’re done reading this. If you don’t, you’re just not being honest with yourself.  To clarify, the evolution I am referring to is the second definition.  Did you think I was about to go on a diatribe about cavemen or Darwin?  Not quite.  The definition of evolution I’m on today explains it as “the gradual development of something, especially from a simple to a more complex form.”  As in me, personally.  My growth over time.  My adaptation to the world around me as it changes every day.  

The difficulty is navigating the changes and adapting while remaining true to the person you are at your core.  It’s hard to keep up sometimes.  Sometimes the world is hard to live in.  Sometimes we can’t get it to make sense.  That’s when we start to evolve.  We have to make sense of it so we have to look at ourselves and see what adjustments we can make to our actions or surroundings.  I also think at certain times though, evolution can stop.  We can refuse to continue to learn and adapt.  Those are dangerous times.  That is when we risk losing ourselves.  It’s important to never forget key moments, key people and key struggles in our lives.

We are all born as this innocent little creature that knows nothing of the world that awaits them.  I’m looking at my baby G right now as she eats and thinking that she has no idea what is happening around her.  She can’t understand the lengths that I am willing to go to in order to keep her that way; healthy, innocent and just worried about whether she wants the hamburger or the cheese or the fry.  That’s her biggest decision right now.  Nothing more.  But as daddy, the decisions are nonstop and can sometimes be more difficult than I’ve ever imagined.  It makes me long for the days that I was a kid myself.  

I was a bit rambunctious when I was a wee lad.  The things that I did then make me weak in the knees and stomach when I think about having to experience it as a father.  My dad has always been a strong man to me but now that I am a father myself, I realize what strength it really took for him and my mom to make it.  Imagine, if you will, a young tot about 3 years old playing around the yard.  My dad was working on his big truck, which was a common experience growing up.  I was playing on an old race car that my Grandaddy had that used to race on the old version of the US 19 Dragstrip.  Back then, they would sometimes pull the car behind their truck without the need to use a trailer by using a metal tongue type system that would attach the truck and car.  This big piece of metal stayed hooked to the car while in the yard and would lay back over the hood.  That daring 3 year old climbed up that big hunk of metal and wound up pulling it over sending both kid and metal to the ground.  Kid landed first, metal smashed head against the ground.  I basically split my head wide open.  Getting woozy now.

It’s weird the things you remember from childhood.  I can honestly remember parts of this experience as a 3 year old.  I don’t know how other than the magnitude of trauma involved.  I remember my dad loading me into the pickup and laying across his and my moms lap as my Grandaddy sped to the hospital.  I remember not really crying.  I remember waking up and getting a truck from my uncle speedy that distracted me while I got a shot.  There are some things I don’t remember because I didn’t see them or know about them until later in life.  I later found out that I was painfully close to having to get a blood transfusion….in 1980.  Think about it.  I also found out that I was about a half an inch from the metal collapsing my eye sockets, which would have proven to be too much for me to overcome.  I was also told later that my grandmother, who was in the bath when it all happened, showed up after we had all gotten there and the first thing she saw was my dad covered in blood, sitting on the floor of the hospital hallway, bawling.  The father in me now almost collapses at the mental image.

I recovered over time.  It was hard from what I understand.  I had terrible nightmares for a while after that.  I would wake up screaming in the middle of the night.  I had debilitating headaches for many years.  I have a scar to this day that stretches clear across my head and goes to the back of my scalp.  As I think back to the things that I remember and things I’ve been told, it’s obvious that I am very lucky to have spent an extra 36 years on this earth.  So using that as a reference, every day is a gift.  Everything that happens positive in my life is something that may have never happened at all.  Alicia would have been around but Bailey and Georgia are direct results of my 39 year existence.

Which brings me back around to evolution.  That event was just one moment in my life.  There have been hundreds more.  Some good, some bad.  I would go on to have a couple more near death experiences, although none as close as the split head.  The collarbone and severed tongue come to mind.  Everything along the way has played a part, no matter how small or how significant.  I struggled in school, I’ve lost friends along the way to death, drugs, prison and plain stupidity.  I’ve gained friends through faith and trust.  I outperformed my own expectations in college.  I have struggled in sports and been to the top of the mountain at times.  I went from floundering between jobs at video stores and Pepsi and The Trading Post to having a successful career in a professional job.  I have questioned myself, trusted only myself, loved myself, hated myself, kicked myself, picked myself up, laughed alone, cried alone, been broke, been comfortable, felt alone and felt loved.

All of those experiences, feelings and emotions have built what I am and continues to mold me.  I have never been someone who was afraid of emotions.  I don’t have to be the baddest guy in the room.  I don’t have to be the bravest or the hardest.  I do want to be the realest.  The most transparent.  The most honest and open.  I want to be the man that you feel comfortable leaning on and talking to.  I want to be able to help, even if that help is just being there.  Ten years ago, I didn’t want to be that guy.  I didn’t care enough.  But I like to think that I’m evolving.  I like to think I can be a better person.  I want to be the dad that mine was and is.  I want to be a foundation and role model for my girls.  I want to know the I’ve done it the right way.  I want to help them evolve as they get older.  When G has more important decisions than the cheese, the burger or the fry, I want her to think about what Daddy would do.  

I hope I never have to endure what my dad (and mom) did with my health scares because I don’t know if I’ll ever be that strong.  But I think about the emotions and fear my dad must have experienced that day and it equates to a love that could never be matched.  I want that to be seen by my girls in me.  The feeling is there. I don’t know if I’ve learned how to properly show it yet but that is the kicker with evolving.  As long as I’m still learning, I can continue to adapt and grow.  I know that I have come a long way from where I was yesterday.  I’ve got to keep going though and be further along the road tomorrow.

As I awoke this morning, a lot of thoughts hit my mind.  I usually lie in bed for a bit and get myself mentally prepared to face what’s ahead of me.  It’s Monday – the zombie of weekdays.  It’s Bailey’s last week of school and there is a lot going on.  We’re getting closer to the end of the month, which is the busy time at work.  Alicia and I go on our 15 year anniversary cruise in 2 weeks so there is mental planning, physical planning and financial arrangements to be made.  Bailey has horse lessons this afternoon so I need to stagger supper for G and the rest of the family.  Just run of the mill thoughts as I prepare to rise.  

Then, as that moment to rise comes, it hits me.  I am getting freaking old.  My body has pain in places I didn’t think actually had feeling receptors.  Muscles that I didn’t know existed ache.  My body is starting to show all of the signs of disregard and abuse I’ve given it over the last 40 years.  And you’d better believe I have given it a fair share of nicks and bruises along the way.  I have never really regarded my body as a temple, unless you consider Buddha your religious go to.  In that case, it’s masterful.

I have constantly battled weight issues throughout my life.  Glimpses at photos from my high school annuals until now show a veritable hodgepodge of chubby, skinny, fat and even toned at one time.  Those were a sweet couple of weeks.  I was a svelt 165 at graduation and am now a deceptively striking 225.  I’m on a 60 pound per 20 year pace, or 3 lbs per year depending on how you look at it.  Here’s the conundrum.  I don’t really care about the weight itself.  I don’t have body issues and don’t really spend any time comparing myself to the next guy that may be 300 lbs or may be a jacked 195 cross fitter. That’s honestly not an issue with me and I am completely comfortable in my own skin.  The issue now is the slow breakdown of this shell that carries me around.

I’m positive it’s a combination of factors.  My number one suspect though is age.  I know that I’ll one day just be a heap of stretched muscles and tendons and cracked bones and worn down appendages.  I can accept that.  But I’m not quite ready for it.  I started being a walking trauma center at an early age.  By the age of 5, I had broken my collar bone, sliced my head open playing on a racecar that was a pile of metal, bit my tongue almost clean in two after a dive down a flight of stairs, broken my toes in a dresser climbing incident, swallowed various toys and almost OD’d on some Tylenol.  Oh and my loving auntie Ann smashed my hand in a car door at Penny Pinchers, oh the irony.  Now I know all kids go through various stages of illness and injury but I caused a 6 year gap between me and my brother because my parents just didn’t know if I would make it and didn’t want to have 2 wreckless nut jobs running around the house.I leveled off a bit when I hit my teen years.  With the exception of a busted up elbow from pitching, I limited my injuries to bruises from being hit by Jason Lee fireballs and sprained ankles from playing too much basketball.  But nothing hospital inducing…..until my infamous nose restructuring when I was 22.  That set me back a bit and gave me a whole new appreciation for rebounding.  As an adult, I’ve had the occasional meniscus tear, shin bruises from ground balls, a broken finger or two and a fouled up back from my periodic scorpions.  But again, I’ve avoided the hospital since the nose.

What all of this has done is taken a toll on me over the course of the last 25 years.  We played doubleheader kickball games yesterday and it hit me that I was the oldest player on the field.  I’m the oldest player on my Gordon city league team, 2nd oldest on my coed team, 3rd oldest in basketball and 4th oldest at SOTC (and won’t ever be the oldest thanks to Barry).  It really doesn’t seem like that long ago when I was the young buck on all of the squads.  But those days are gone.  And I am left with memories of what I once could do. My mind still tries to do those things but my body just laughs.  That’s when the scorpions attack.I took those days for granted.  I laughed at my elders for not being able to hold up over several hours of competition.  I recall an evening Petey and I stopped at Winn Dixie after softball so I could replinish my Little Debbie supply at home.  I was a solid 23 probably and Petey said, “You know, one day you aren’t going to be able to stuff those in your face this late at night.”  He’s a true wordsmith.  I have defied that warning and have been able to continue that hobby.  Which is one of the leading contributors to the 60 lbs in 20 years.  

But the fact that the statement was so unthinkable makes me realize just how old I’ve really become.  I eat as I please still because I believe that life isn’t worth living if you aren’t actually living while you’re here.  I’m going to croak one day.  I don’t want to look back on that day and say, “I wish I had one more cheesy bread from Harvest Moon.”  Of course, I still have to try to cut out eating late, cut out the 4th meal from Taco Bell as much as possible and limit the M&M’s.  If I didn’t, I’d be 3 bills by now and my athletic career (as questionable as it is) would be over now instead of having one foot in the ditch and another on a banana peel.

Which brings me to the real question of what happens when it is really over.  I keep thinking that by the time it’s over, I’ll need a walker.  Then I have mornings like today where I wonder if I’ll be able to walk from my desk to the printer.  That’s a treacherous 40 feet when your hips and knees don’t want to cooperate.  Hopefully, I’ll leave some impression on the younger guys, my teammates.  I have always tried to be a good teammate.  I try to keep everyone positive, I try to be dependable.  I try to avoid conflict when possible and (with the exception of kickball) try to let the umpires do their job without my input.  I’ve tried to do it the way Dewey taught me.  The right way.  

I know the day is coming.  I’m closer today than I was yesterday.  I’ll be even closer tomorrow.  But I’ll be at Sherwood ready to play 2 more softball games and will once again use my body as an object to slow down a softball.  I’ll wake up Wednesday and wonder why I keep putting myself through it.  I’ll have a few days to heal and I’ll be back on the kickball field.  That’s the only way I know to keep going. If I stop, it’s all over.  There are no layoffs anymore.  When this train stops, it’s parking in the station.  The only way to keep going is to never get rid of the aches.  If I ever get back to where my back doesn’t hurt while I sleep or my knees don’t hurt when I get out of bed or my hip doesn’t hurt when I pick up a toy off of the ground, I know I’ll never go back to the pain.  What kind of idiot would I be?  So, for now, I’ll enjoy the daily reminders of my physical failings and I’ll keep pushing myself to be the best elder statesman I can be.  I’ll never be remembered as a home run hitter or speedster or dunk machine.  But maybe when it’s all over, my old teammates will say, “that guy never stopped playing.  He never gave up and he was fun to be around.”  Because I can tell you, when my playing days are over and Alicia gets me 24/7, the compliments won’t be near as plausible.  As a matter of fact, she will probably finish the job and cripple me with a kayak paddle.  And I’ll probably deserve it.  Until then though, I’ll be on the field the very next chance I get.  See you there!

J-Dub

Fear has many definitions.  It can be a noun or a verb.  It can be a feeling or an emotion.  It can be concious or subconscious.  I think the best definition for me is, “the feeling of anxiety concerning the outcome of something or the safety and well being of someone.”  In this definition, it plainly reads as a feeling.  In any case, we all have them.  Some more prevalent than others.  Some more willing to admit or talk about them than others.  But they are there, make no mistake.  They change as we get older.  Fear is almost like a resistant illness that mutates over time as we fight it.  

That mutation runs parallel with our understanding or knowledge of the world and what’s real.  When we’re young, it’s things like the boogeyman, the dark and strangers.  As teens, we fear school or grades or being accepted or asking someone out.  Some fears are not age discriminate and can affect you over your whole life.  These are usually phobias of some sort like acrophobia (heights), arachnophobia (spiders) or coulrophobia (clowns).  There is a website, Phobia List, dedicated to hundreds of actual named phobias that are pretty unbelievable.  There is even a fear of phobias, phobophobia, no joke.  

As adults however, our fears have typically grown to “drug resistant” status and can be difficult to cope with.  Maybe it’s because we know mom or dad aren’t coming into the room to turn the light on.  We generally have a fear of even talking about our fears as adults because it can make us appear vulnerable.  You got it, a fear of being vulnerable.  This can be more prevalent in the male species as we don’t like admitting to being afraid of anything.  I’m going to break that man code with this post because I think fear is a basic human emotion (or feeling) that pushes me every day to be a better person.  I don’t mind discussing it.  I guess you could say that over time, I have conquered my gelotophobia, or fear of being laughed at or made fun of.

I generally don’t have any tradition phobias, with the exception of a case of germophobia.  Heights are exhilarating to me.  I think spiders are part of natures balance, just like snakes and alligators, so long as it’s not a black widow or brown recluse.  And clowns aren’t really even on my radar.  I think I have even reached a point in my life where I am no longer afraid of death itself.  It is going to happen, whether it be tomorrow in my softball game (line drive to the face would be an awful way to go, unless we won) or 40 years from now on the golf course while playing for the course record at Bushwood (Caddyshack?).  Do I want it to be tomorrow?  Not preferably, as I think I have more to learn and experience on this earth.  But I’ve come to realize that I am, by and large, not in control and that uncertainty and lack of control actually takes the fear out of it for me.

That actually brings me to my first and most pressing fear – the safety and well being of my family and friends.  These are the people that need to be here longer than me.  I spend much of my day to day life trying to make sure that I am doing my part to keep the scales tilted in that direction.  I think that is a generally accepted practice with any married individual or parent.  Not necessarily ground breaking but it is my greatest fear in life.  So much so that I don’t really want to spend any more time on this one.  

After that, a major fear I have is that of letting people down.  This is one that I have battled for many years.  I need to do better and better and better every day because stagnation or a step back is not acceptable.  Every day, the personal bar gets higher and the fear grows.  I am fortunate to have a comfortable, steady job that takes care of my family and our needs.  We have a home, food, transportation, pets, toys and anything else we need to live a stable life.  The fear attached with maintaining that is overwhelming.  I have certain expectations of myself and so do others.  A lapse in judgment or blurring of the lines would be devastating for me and could put all of that in jeopardy.  As a husband and father, what kind of pressure matches that?  

Beyond the professional aspect, there is the personal or social aspect of that fear.  I have two daughters that watch every move I make.  As dad, I can’t really do anything wrong in their eyes but that’s where the pressure comes from.  They think that what I do is the right thing or the right way to something.  Every night consists of a mental inventory of the day’s actions and self approval or self regret.  The funny thing about self regret is that there isn’t much you can do about it.  It’s a sinking feeling that makes you understand how to process in the future but it doesn’t do much in the present.  

I am entrusted by many people for many different things.  My wife trusts that I am going to take care of her and our children.  I work in the financial industry so there’s fiscal trust.  I manage employees so they trust my leadership.  My friends trust me with their confidence or for advice.  To be honest, I am a very fortunate man to have that trust from people.  But with that sometimes comes a delusional internal expectation of perfection.  Therein lies the fear.  Perfection is 100% elusive.  I haven’t met perfection and am certain it does not exist on earth.  But where in that list do I have the latitude to slip up?  I know it’s not realistic but fear is often irrational.

I think it would be safe to say that my biggest fear is myself.  That’s right, I am most afraid of me.  I’m afraid I’ll let my guard down at work and let something bury me.  I’m afraid I will take someone close to me for granted.  I’m afraid I’ll forget one day that my kids are watching.  I’m afraid I’ll let go for a minute and say something my friends have trusted me with.  I’m afraid I won’t be there when Alicia  needs me the most.  I’m afraid I’ll let the past control my future.  I’m afraid I’ll let you down.  It’s all me.  It’s J-Dubophobia.  

There is a silver lining and it’s all that keeps me from crumbling in a heap on certain days.  That fear of myself pushes me every day to improve.  When you embrace a fear you have, you live it every minute and it makes you fight.  When you look your fear in the eyes, acknowledge its existence and give it an identity, it can’t hide from you.  That seems to be the first step in conquering a fear, you have to recognize and understand it.  The only way to understand the dark is to walk right into it.  It took me a while but I think I finally get it.  I’m going to let myself down.  But I can’t let the periodic failures define me as a man.  Ultimately, you are defined by your heart, your intentions, your growth.  Maybe this fear is a part of that growth.  Maybe it’s just one of the demons I’ll have to live with.  Either way, the most certain way I have learned to cope with fear is to talk about it.  So, I won’t hide from that.

J-Dub

“I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself, I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered by me.” ~~ Sir Isaac Newton

We go through life learning more and more as we age and mature.  At 39, I am a much different person than I was at 20.  As a kid, I just needed to know how to get along with my buds and play video games.  In my teens, it was important to know how to manage a relationship with the buds and a significant other, what movies were coming out, what music was hitting, where my next $20 was coming from and whether or not we would have enough guys to play basketball on Saturdays.  Eventually, those focuses shifted to managing a career, living with a spouse and managing a household.  Now, the household has grown to 4 and I have to use all the knowledge I’ve attained over the years to simply survive the day.  

We are all self centered by nature.  I don’t necessarily mean that in a bad way.  Rather, it’s easy to get caught up in what’s going on in our own lives and walking obliviously through the rest of society as it faces its own struggles.  A lot of people live that way on purpose and I do from time to time.  There is tremendous value in focusing on yourself and your family and friends as I have talked about many times in this blog.  But in moments of solitude and quiet, my mind turns to what else may be out there.  Don’t worry, I’m not about to go on some paranormal or sci-fi trip.  I’ll keep it reasonable.  What I am doing though is trying to constantly challenge my way of thinking which I believe helps me adapt and continue learning.

The quote at the beginning of this post is spoken eloquently but speaks simply to me.  I don’t know how the world sees me.  Some see me as smart, some see me as a country bumpkin.  Some see kindness and some see selfishness.  Some see success and some see failure.  I don’t know what the overwhelming opinion is.  To me, I’m just floating along here in my bubble with my own goals, victories and discoveries.  Outside of my bubble though is a vast world that I will never fully see or understand.  Newton was likely referencing the vastness of space in comparison to what were important laws and theories he developed.  I find the underlying subject meaningful in another vein.  At the risk of sounding bleak, I’m pretty insignificant.  That is not the point of this post though.  No amount of success or good deeds will change the fact that is outlined in this premise.  The point of this post is to acknowledge and accept that there are in fact things I’ll never know and understand.  I’m ok with that.  Everybody should be.  What can hold people back from accepting it though is the quest to be the smartest person in the room and always be right.

Our lives are consumed with debate and being on the right side of issues.  It’s almost become comical watching the news channel side shows bring their commentators from both sides of an issue to argue for 5 minutes about which side is right.  They argue as if they are going to change each other’s minds or ours.  People share articles on Facebook that back up their side of arguments, whether they have done their own due diligence on what they are sharing or not.  I’ve been a victim before and it’s embarrassing but the vast majority of Facebook users have yet to realize that there are fake news sites that were created to provide stories for sharing and support of various issues.  Either the articles are vague, half-truths or fabricated altogether.  

At the risk of getting off on a whole other topic about our slacktivist society and our penchant for social media outrage, take a look at the current Target bathroom issue.  I’m not about to preach to one side or the other or even discuss my stance as I’m sure it won’t change anyone’s mind and will certainly be bigoted or unchristian to whoever I’ve aligned myself against.  What I’m going to share is what I see.  I have friends that are scattered all over the spectrum of race, religion and sexual preference.  What that means is I get to see examples of both sides of the issue.  I have seen logical and absurd support of the decision and I’ve seen logical and absurd opposition.  But what I don’t ever see is reasonable discussion between sides……on any issue.  That’s because we can’t see (or at least understand) life outside of our bubble.  The line is clear – if I’m ok with the decision, I’m obviously a left wing nutjob who longs for communism.  If I’m opposed, I’m obviously a lunatic, southern tea partier that hates all people not like me.  

My point?  Have your beliefs and convictions.  Practice what you preach.  But know that you are living in your little world inside a big one.  I don’t know what’s right outside of my belief system.  Even inside it, I struggle from time to time because I accept that society is changing and I wonder if my opinions should too.  When I was young, I remember thinking how nutty it was for older people to have their weird opinions on the race issue.  The fact is that they were raised during a time where the issue was prevalent.  Guess what?  Young people are looking at the older generation now and saying, “how can you possibly not accept me as different than you?”  The older generation says, “Easy, it’s not how I was raised and it’s not right.”  I can’t imagine what the next generational clash will be but history will repeat itself and the same people calling others close minded or bigots will be on the receiving end.  

I did get off on a tangent.  Think about the vastness of your city or county.  I go to stores in town (yes, Target too) and about 75% of the people I see are people I’ve never seen before.  Have you ever stopped to wonder how that is even possible?  Publix is less than a mile from my home and I see new people in their daily.  And yes, I’m there daily.  We could never comprehend the number of people and opinions that are floating around out there beyond our reach.  So why do we think ours is so important that it must be right?  Think about how self centered that really is.  We should all have our opinions, beliefs, convictions but they aren’t going to be molded for everybody else.  Hell, we can’t even agree on whether Pepsi or Coke is better.  I’m supposed to follow your lead on what people should and shouldn’t do with their own physiology?  Pass.  This is seriously not about the specific bathroom issue.  That is the current hot topic.  This is about our inability to accept that we are living within the confinement of our own existence which is unable to truly see beyond itself.  

We can’t change being unable to see beyond our barriers.  But we can accept that there is life outside of those barriers.  Real life.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.  Believe what you want or what is best for your conscience/spirit.  Want to vote for Trump?  Want to be a woman dude?  Want to boycott Target?  Want to boycott Bruce Springsteen?  Want to be a Florida Gator fan?  Knock yourself out!!  I may not understand it but that’s not an overly unique position for me.  I don’t know what it’s like to live life in your shoes.  I don’t know what’s going on in your mind or heart.  I don’t know what keeps you up at night.  I can only try to deal with my own insomnia.  I’m learning everyday about my own seashore.  There are tons or rocks and seashells for me to explore and understand that keeps me busy.  Oh look, a sea turtle…..

J-Dub