Tag Archives: daughter

SAVE THE DATE! What Do You Have To Look Forward To?

DSC_0680“It’s more fun to think of the future than dwell on the past.” Sara Shepard, Unbelievable

Hello friend,

“Can it be Thursday already?” “Can it be July 2nd?” “Can it be 72 days from now?” These are the usual questions of my daughter, always asked rhetorically and with a gleam in her eye, beginning a familiar dance.

I then dutifully play my role and say, “Why? What’s happening on Thursday (or July 2nd or 72 days from now—you get it)?”

That is her ticket to spill out her joy in anticipation of the future event she has been fantasizing about. “Thursday is our field trip for camp!” (“July 2nd is when we leave for Pelican Lake and get to see our cousins!” and “School is starting again in 72 days, and I CAN’T WAIT!!!”). She is bubbling over with excitement, unable to contain it in her little body.

And though I love to see her so excited, the Zen father in me views this as a teachable moment, an opportunity to impart some life wisdom. “How about we just focus on THIS moment? If we keep doing that, Thursday (or July 2nd, or 72 days from now) will show up soon enough, and you will be happier along the way. Just enjoy today.”  

But her will is stronger than mine: “But I want it to be Thursday NOW!” she says with her gleam even gleamier, knowing it is all just a game but loving to play it and get her old man going.

This is the norm for her. She always has something thrilling in her mind that she is looking forward to, some wonderful event at which she can hardly wait to arrive.

Even though I give her a gentle chiding for always looking ahead—one of my favorite personal mantras is “Present moment, Wonderful moment”—I admit that there is a part of me that is jealous of her future-oriented thinking. It seems fun! She is completely tickled by thoughts of these upcoming events. They give her something to mark her days by.

Thinking about that little twinge of jealousy, I have to ask myself, “Do I have anything that I am looking forward to??? Is there a date on my calendar that I cannot wait to arrive?” The answer to that is a tough pill to swallow.

It is true that I am, like my daughter, excited for July 2nd, when we will go to the lake for a week with my parents, siblings, and all of the kids. While it is not an exotic locale or a totally unique experience, it is a break from the normal routine and a chance to reconnect with my beloved family. That, to me, is worth looking forward to. But what else? There is not anything else I can think of in the next six months. No special challenge or date or event or getaway. Just Life. Ordinary Life.

I remember a few years ago talking with a buddy about a big trip he had just booked that was a few months away. He was a really hard-working, nose-to-the-grindstone kind of guy who never splurged on anything and never did anything interesting. I’ll never forget his combination of relief and excitement as he said to me, “It’s just so nice to have something to look forward to!” I get that now.

I see it with my wife, too, who signs herself up for long, difficult running and obstacle races so that she will have a reason to train. If there is nothing to train for, she doesn’t bother. But with something to look forward to, the motivation is automatic. Her Future seems to improve the quality of her Present.

I am not really sure if I am wired that way, though. Like my friend, I agree that it is fun to have something to look forward to, a light at the end of the tunnel when I am having a challenging week. But really, my life is not a terrible grind I am just trying to slog my way through. I am happy. On the whole, I am quite grateful for the way I get to spend my days. So maybe I don’t have as big of a need for that “Save the Date” event to look forward to. Maybe. And unlike my wife, I don’t need any extra motivation to try to stay fit. Perhaps signing up for a race would sharpen my focus, but I am pretty content to do my own thing and just make fitness a part of my simple lifestyle. It is not exciting, but I am okay with that. I enjoy my Present tense.

Maybe the thing that bothers me about my world compared to my daughter’s is that the ways in which we utilize the Future are completely opposite. The days she can’t stop thinking about are all positive: celebrations, trips, unique adventures, first times, and favorites. The days I obsess over are DEADLINES. Get this bill paid by this date OR ELSE! Get that blog post written by that date OR ELSE! Get these orders submitted by X date OR ELSE! In that sense, we are both future-oriented, but her future dates are all roses and mine are more like Doomsday scenarios.

My future dates on the calendar have become points of stress, ordeals to survive, not delights to look forward to. Instead of wishing Time would hurry up, I am begging for it to slow down so I can get it all in on-time.

No wonder I try to convince myself to stay in the moment!

What to do? I feel like this news is telling me to get more special dates on the calendar: parties or concerts or competitions or trips. From past experience, I know that having those types of things to look forward to is fun and makes the rough days a little smoother, knowing the light is out there. However, I also believe that we all have a different degree of need for those schedule highlights. For me, even though I don’t have many, I don’t mind.

I think it is because I truly enjoy my normal day. Included in every day of my week are things that I am passionate about and feel called to do (like writing these words to you). Even though I miss some old friends and could always use more family gatherings, I really like the people I spend my time with (my wife and kids). Basically, even though it doesn’t look very interesting or exciting to anyone else, I love my life. And even though I admit that I would enjoy adding a few splashy events to my year to add some spice to my daydreams, I seem to get along just fine without them. Because the thing is: I’m looking forward to today. That feels like enough for me.

How about you? What special days are you looking forward to? Open up your journal and write about the stuff of your daydreams. Which upcoming events do you fantasize about? Is your biggest one a trip? A party? A physical challenge, like a marathon? An “event,” like a concert or a sports competition? A family or school reunion? What is it about that day or event that really makes you look forward to it? Why is it so much better than an ordinary day like today? How good are your ordinary days? Do you think the degree to which you (or anyone) is a “look ahead” kind of person is mostly dictated by how much they enjoy their normal days, or is it more about how great the things are that they have to look forward to? Or is it, perhaps, more about your established mindset—like my work to be an in-the-moment Zen Daddy and my “Present moment, Wonderful moment” mantra—rather than anything about the quality of your regular life or the greatness of your calendar highlights? I don’t know that there is one answer that covers everybody, but what combination of those factors explains it for you? Is it a healthy thing to be so much looking forward to future days? Is there a point that it tips from being a healthy thing—with upcoming highlights providing some necessary excitement, optimism, and hope to a person’s life—to an unhealthy thing, where a person gets so lost in the future that she forgets to fully enjoy the present moment, to “smell the roses,” so to speak? Where are you on the spectrum? What percentage of your thoughts are about future? Do you use them to focus on good things—the trips and parties and such—or do you slip mostly into future stressors, such as deadlines or bills to pay? Would you say that it’s healthy to look forward, but only to the good stuff, the stuff that doesn’t cause you stress? What is the biggest, most exciting thing you have coming up that is deserving of your daydreams? Leave me a reply and let me know: What do you have to look forward to?

Enjoy all the moments,

William

P.S. If today’s letter got you wondering a different way, please pass it on. Encouraging each other to think more broadly about our thinking can only be good. Spread good!

A Front Row Seat to a Magic Show

IMG_2888“The miracle of children is that we just don’t know how they will change or who they will become.” –Eileen Kennedy-Moore

Hello friend,

Yesterday I went to my first track meet since I was a kid. It was quite a show! My soon-to-be-seven-year-old daughter was finishing her week of “Track Camp”, a serious-sounding name for a week of playing Tag and Ships Across The Ocean, mixed with a few laps around the track. Thus, I wasn’t exactly expecting her to be pole vaulting and throwing discus, but I actually did hold out some secret hopes for her running and jumping prowess. Of course I am heavily biased, but I have seen her go. She outruns me around the house, and she is sporting some pretty good muscles (you know, as six-year-olds go!). So I kind of thought the track meet might be a coming-out party for her, a discovery of something she would excel at and take confidence from.

Well, not so much. She wasn’t bad. She just wasn’t a hero. And the funny thing was this: it didn’t seem to matter at all to her whether she won or lost. Unlike her fairly competitive parents, she just isn’t very into that side of sports. As a result, she doesn’t seem to either gain or lose confidence from the results. As baffling and uncommon as that is, I find it totally refreshing. After all, isn’t that what the coaches and sports psychologists of professional athletes are trying to instill in them? A kind of independence from circumstance, not affected by luck or momentum.

It is how she is in school, too, according to her teachers. At conferences, they tell us she plays with every kid openly and patiently, even the boys who have just been totally obnoxious and rude. When I asked her this year if she knew why she went to the Gifted & Talented teacher’s room almost every day of the week, she had no idea other than “to work on math” or “to work on reading” or whatever. When I explained that she was blessed by being more intelligent than most kids, it didn’t phase her at all, and she never spoke of it again. She somehow just absorbs her situation and finds joy there, no matter who else is there. After the first day of Summer camp, our conversation went like this: “Did you meet any new friends?” “No.” “You didn’t talk to anyone?” “Nope.” “Was it fun?” “Yes!!!” Same thing the next day. On the third day, she met some new friends. “Fun?” “Yes!!!” It just doesn’t matter to her. She hasn’t had a bad day at camp all Summer. We should all be so lucky.

Her little brother, meanwhile, had his own fun at the track meet. Even though he was too young for camp—still four for a couple more weeks–and just a spectator, he was more busy than all of the competitors. He explored, as he always does, every nook and cranny of the new space with the specific intent of discovering all the ways he could turn it into a funhouse. He loves making his sister his partner in this adventure, as they are quite a pair in a new place. The novelty completely stirs them, and I am completely amazed by the variety of ways they can find to create fun and excitement out of thin air. I am so envious of their creativity and zest for amusement.

I am also envious of my son’s demand to be heard and be a part of the action. After all of the big kids finished their runs, he demanded a turn to run around the track. Captivated by his spirit, I, of course, conceded to his order. He coaxed my daughter into a 400 meter race—in his Crocs, no less—and joyously crossed the finish line in victory. Then, “I wanna do it again!” His spirit is relentless.

He seems to have staked a claim to his right to pursue Joy in whatever way he sees fit. So he goes after it with fervor, whatever it is. In one moment, he will demand that I play along with one of his jokes to make his Mom and sister laugh. In the next, he might order me away for a few minutes so he can have some time with his “imaginations”. But mostly, he is ordering me from one amusement to the next in his never-ending search to find and provide greater enjoyment in this wonderful game called LIFE. He is a born performer and makes friends wherever he goes. In most cases, you would say his confidence is through the roof. But then it’s not. I have to twist his arm to go to the child center at the gym or any new thing without his big sister. Suddenly, I have this uncertain little boy on my hands that needs lots of hugs and reassurance. Forty-five minutes later, when I come to pick him up, he practically owns the place. It is such a high-wire act. I so admire the way he conquers his insecurities and completely flourishes, never allowing his spirit to be held down.

What are they going to be when they grow up? Who knows! When my daughter first started day care at six months old, she brought us home some awful germs. On my very first day home alone with her, I was as sick as could be, totally vomiting and unable to get off the sofa when I was not in the bathroom. Amidst my misery, I was completely in awe of her as she just sat in her swing across the room, staring at me with the sweetest, most empathetic eyes. I swore right then that she was destined to become a healer of some sort. When she graduated pre-school, she said she wanted to be a teacher. I don’t know anymore. What I do know is that the world will be better for having her in it. As for my son, I have always guessed he would be some sort of entertainer. Even before he could speak, he would work hard to find ways to coax a laugh and a smile out of people, then give a look of satisfaction when it was achieved. No matter what he chooses, it seems clear that making people smile will come along with the package.

They take you on a ride, these kids. You simply don’t know which way they will turn their lives from one moment to the next. The only way to stay with them is to live in the moment. Living in the moment. It is just about the most important lesson any of us can learn in life, and kids teach it best. The other lesson they teach me so beautifully is to be authentic. Live your Truth. Just be yourself. Relentlessly yourself. Don’t bother with what the crowd is doing or what it means to someone else to be cool. Just do the thing that makes you feel like you. Following them around every day is the best education I have ever had. I feel so incredibly blessed that they take me along for the ride that is their lives. Whatever twists and turns they take, it never fails to feel beautiful and magical to me.

How about you? Who in your life brings you that sense of awe and amazement? Open up your journal and your heart. Are there children in your life? How much do they mean to you? Do they take you to that place of wonder and fascination? Why do we not allow our grown-up selves to be experienced this way? Can we take the edge off our jadedness and begin to see our peers as the amazing creatures that we all truly are, and can we let down our guards enough to let ourselves be seen as the unique, beautiful creatures that we have been since we were babies? Has the premium on fitting in caused us all to lose our shine in the hopes of not sticking out? Is the magic still there under all our self-censorship?   I hope it is. I hope we are not naturally less fascinating and less divine as we age. Even if I am my only audience, I want to still be magnificent and awe-inspiring. I want to be what my kids are to me. Do grandparents still see that in their adult children, or do they just rev it up again with their grandchildren only? How will I observe these two magicians when they are my current age? I guess I have to wait and see. I have a feeling it will be a fun wait, though. I am already grateful for all that is to come. Are you? Leave me a reply and let me know: Who keeps the magic and the moment in your life? 

Just be you,

William

What Choice Do I Have?

DSC_0893“We are the choices we make.” —Patrick Ness, The Knife of Never Letting Go

Hello friend,

When I was a kid, I heard the same thing you did: “You can be anything you want to be.” But, as my youth passed and young adulthood emerged, it seemed that everything was preordained, that I was powerless to Destiny. I would go to college, just like they always said. I would become a doctor, just like they always said. And that’s pretty much how the rest of my life would go. How much of a choice is that, really, when everybody said I was going to do it since elementary school? At 21, I felt like I was stuck in a trap that had been set before I had even hit puberty. My life was on rails going only one way.

And then, I jumped off the track. The straight-A, destined-for-doctorhood guy quit school altogether. It felt like the first time I had ever made a real choice in my life. It scared the heck out of me! It shocked everyone—including me, frankly—and I don’t pretend that I wasn’t a big disappointment to those I loved the most, especially my parents. And yet, as outcast and alone as I felt after making that fateful decision, it was also strangely liberating. There was a freedom in finally ignoring the “shoulds” of all of them—whoever “they” are—and taking the reins of my own life. Yes, in the midst of all of that fear and anxiety about how I could succeed while going against the grain in this world, I felt powerful. I had given myself the greatest gift I had ever known: CHOICE.

That gift emboldened me, and after that I spent a good number of years marching to the beat of my own drummer, choosing a path rich in experience and enrichment. I was floating, really, quite blissful in my empowered state. Years later, I fell in love and found myself feeling enormously conflicted about what to do with that. I feared that making the big commitment to a life partnership would once again trap me into being a giant expectation and that I would spend the rest of my life “shoulding” all over myself. Eventually, I made my peace with the idea, and I instead found some freedom within the form that is Love. It was a good choice.

However, the next phase of adulthood showed me the other way people get out-of-choice in life and get lost. I became sucked into working way too many hours and exhausting myself. My other passions went completely out the door, and the years passed by in a mindless fog. I was well on my way to being one of those guys who was going to blink and be 65, wondering where my life went (if I hadn’t already had a heart attack). I was on autopilot. I was living by default, not by design.

I am so thankful to my daughter for bringing me back to life. Her birth was my re-birth; she woke me up. I got my priorities straight. Work became secondary, mostly just a means to take care of my family. My time and energy suddenly felt very valuable. I wanted to give it all to her. And for the most part, I did. I cut down my work hours drastically, and all other outside interests as well. I was family only. Everything else went to the back burner.

And so, the pendulum swung back the other way. Any foray into marriage or parenthood brings its own set of shoulds, and one’s dreams for himself can become tempered by the dreams of others, or for others. Sometimes you willingly give away your choices. The big decisions to enter these relationships become obligations that both fulfill you and bind you at the same time. I would not go back and choose anything different on the family front, but it certainly has changed the arc of my pursuit of my dreams.

I was really at peace with that trade—some might say “sacrifice”—at least until a couple of years ago. Turning 40 very much changed my perspective and got me back into the mindset of my dreams and my purpose. It literally “re-minded” me. And now I continue to make the choice to put my kids and family first—they are, after all, deeply entrenched with my purpose here on Earth—but I don’t do it mindlessly. I don’t just drift into it without thought. It is also not because of someone else’s “should”. I choose it because I want it. But I am simultaneously aware of what I am giving up in order to prioritize these people so highly.

My other dreams—to be a writer, speaker, and coach—are not allotted much time in my day. That is difficult for me to swallow, I admit. But it is still a choice. And that is also why I choose to drive so hard when I am not doing family stuff. I have chosen to give up most leisure activities and social engagements in order to use what little “spare time” there is to press on with my mission, to follow my Bliss. So, I write my journal every day to know myself better so that I can be more grateful and thus more happy. And I write this letter to you every week, because it means a great deal to me to help you know yourself better and feel more grateful and happy, too. And I take my coaching classes and do my homework to prepare myself even more to help people.

I do all of that so that one day, instead of trying to squeeze my dreams into a couple of hours of spare time to the exclusion of other things that might help me lead a more balanced life, I will actually have a profession of these passions that I can do during the normal work day, leaving the “spare time” for such bucket list items as teaching myself the guitar or creating movies of my kids’ lives. Or, maybe I would just let myself dive into leisure, such as my beloved books or movies. Leisure. Yes, I like the sound of that. That would be a nice reward for some good choices made and executed. Some day.

That is my vision. That is what has driven my recent choices, including the big-picture moves—job changes and a return to school—and the daily choices to fill my schedule and go hard at my passions. I am trying to ignore the shoulds of other people’s plans and expectations for me, trying to listen to the drum that is beating inside of me (in the back of my mind, I always hear my old pal Thoreau saying, “If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music he hears, however measured or far away.”). I hope I am choosing wisely. I am heartened by the fact that if I fail today, I can wake up tomorrow and choose again. Life is beautifully generous that way. The challenge for me is to accept the offer. Every. Single. Time. That is the best choice I can make.

How about you? Are you living your life by choice? Open up your journal and think about why you do what you do. How much do the expectations of others and obligations—“the shoulds”—play a role in your life? Is it only in certain areas—your career or where you live, for instance—or does it go across the board? How different do you think your life would look without those shoulds? A lot or a little? Do you see marriage and parenthood more as chains that bind people and limit their future choices, or rather as choices they make to express their love and their passions more freely? How much is on each side of that spectrum? To what extent is your life just a mindless routine that you go through the motions of without really making choices anymore? This numbing is, I think, at least partially what Thoreau is referring to when he says, “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.” Does that resonate with you? Are you living by default, or by design? If you woke up tomorrow and decided to design your life from now on, what would be the first choices you would make to be more authentic and purposeful? Are you ready to commit to that? I dare you! Leave me a reply and let me know: What choice do YOU have? 

Your life is now,

William

Is Your Job Working You?

IMG_1015Hello friend,

Picture yourself on your deathbed. Your mind spins like a broken record, replaying your life over and over in hopes of coming to some peace. Peace with what you have done and left undone. Peace with your accomplishments and your failures, your great loves and great loves lost. But mostly, you are trying to make peace with how you passed your time here on Earth, how you spent your dash. Regret enters the conversation. “I wish I had done that.” “I am so sorry that I did the other thing.” Woulda shoulda coulda. These are tough thoughts, heavy loads to bear as you cross over to the other side. So, here is my question: At the end of the road, are you going to say, “I wish I spent more time at work”?

Naahhh! Me neither. Not many people, I am guessing, would fess up to that regret. It is not that I discount that as a possibility, especially for those who are truly following their Bliss–their calling–and have turned it into a career. I love writing these posts to you. If I was earning a living wage for it, I could definitely see spending a little “too much” time delivering one to you on a daily basis. Mostly, though, I think that, like most of you, wishing I had worked more hours won’t be among my biggest deathbed regrets.

But how about the reverse? Have I spent too many hours at work? Have I missed out on the things that I would tell you are important: my kids, my wife, my family of origin, taking care of my health, pursuing my passions, learning? Has my schedule reflected my priorities?

As with many other areas of my life, I have taken a unique, winding path in my relationship with my work schedule. After spending most of my 20’s trying to work as little as possible so that I could spend my hours on self-improvement, my early 30’s found me living the life of a workaholic. I was on both the teaching and the management sides of tennis, and that meant a grueling schedule of more than 40 hours per week pounding my body on a tennis court and then another 20-30 hours in the office stressing over budgets, staffing, programming and the like. I was burning the candle at both ends, to be sure, only seeing the light of day on the weekends (some weekends). Every night found me completely exhausted.

In my work on The Journal Project, I have been able to revisit those years via my daily journal entries. Let me tell you, those are the most boring, repetitive entries of my entire adult life! They are like a broken record that goes something like this: “I am so tired. My body hurts so badly. This is no way to live. I wouldn’t recommend this to anybody. I am happy and grateful. Life is beautiful.” Yes, thank goodness that my spiritual and psychological foundation—my base of deep happiness and gratitude—had been laid prior to those years, because I never would have made it through without that foundation. It is true that I believed in my cause—I loved being in tennis and was heavily invested in making my club a wonderful place to work and play—and that certainly helped me to sustain my energies while there. But it was all there. I didn’t have much energy left to offer anything outside the building. All of those other things I would have said were high priorities—wife, family, passions, health—were left to pick at the crumbs of energy I had left when I limped in the house under cover of night. Between the stress and the physical beating and the endless hours, my work certainly exacted a heavy toll on me in exchange for a paycheck. In effect, it consumed me. (Here might be a good place to add that my wife is a saint.)  I knew what was happening, too, but I just couldn’t seem to do anything about it.

But then, something magical happened. My daughter was born. The sweetest, most beautiful angel ever in the world was alive and coming to stay in my house, where I could scarcely find time to be. That seemed just plain wrong to me. My priorities suddenly came sharply into focus. But more than that, the need to match my schedule to my priorities became urgent. So I did. I quit the management side of my job and cut my teaching schedule down to four days, with no nights or weekends. The paycheck and status took a huge hit, but finally my schedule was in alignment with my priorities.

Those quality days with my daughter—and eventually my son, too—were worth more to me than any paycheck ever was. If you could ever climb inside my heart on a “Three Amigos Day”—one of our weekdays with just the kids and I—or “Family Fun Day” (all of us together on a weekend), you would understand completely the meaning of the word “priceless”. We have been carrying on like this for 5 ½ years now, with me spending less time at work and more time with the ones I love and having the energy to be fully present when I am with them. So, there I was at the bus stop this morning to give my daughter a hug good-bye before school, and there I was at the end of the day to see her jump off the bus and run smiling toward me for another giant hug—an untradeable moment—and a trip on our bikes to the park. And tomorrow, on that weekday away from my job I have clung to all these years, I get to go along on the kindergarten fieldtrip to the museum and the zoo. These days of my being my kid’s best friend don’t last forever, right? I think I’ll soak them up while they are still here.

As you can see, my relationship with my working hours has been one of extremes. I have known dipping my feet in the water, wading comfortably at waist-deep, and full-fledged drowning in my work. I have known myself to be happy in the midst of all three, but actual satisfaction came only when I was finally able to make my schedule reflect my priorities. Who can say how my path will meander in the coming years as circumstances change, but I hope that when I am in full life-review mode while lying on my deathbed, I will have no regrets when it comes to the time I spent at work.

How about you? How are you doing with your work schedule? Open up your journal and tell yourself about it. Are you spending too much time at your job? Are you missing out on important aspects of your life because of your work schedule? Do you ever wish you worked more? Is your job your true calling or just something you do? When it is all over, are you going to regret the way you spent your time? And most importantly, how closely do you think your schedule reflects your priorities? If it does not, what small step can you take today to change that? Leave me a reply and let me know: Is your job working you?

Live a self-approved life,

William