Tag Archives: Hope

God, Help My Kids Fail

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January 27, 2016

4 days in a row! 4 days of using this blog as a virtual puke bucket for my thoughts. It feels as if I am traveling throughout each day on a luxury cruise with some pretty rough seas. I enjoy the cruise, but its stressful being in unfamiliar territory, and I get motion sick easily. When I get off the boat, I barf off of the side of the pier and then I can regroup and have some stillness. That is what my writing has given me.  Huh? (I realize it doesn’t make much sense, but I hate to delete all that typing).

Ok. It’s 4am and I am bright eyed and bushy tailed from a good night’s rest. I am watching my 6 year old daughter sleep, and there just ain’t much else that I’d rather be doing. I have been blessed with two really good kids. I realize that most parents believe their kids to be good, but these two are especially good natured . In the stillness of the morning hours, I ponder exactly what it is that I want my children to experience in their lives, and the answer is simple. I want my kids to be safe, happy, and successful in every area of their lives. I want them to have all the good, and none of the bad. I want them to win every game and ace every test. I do not want for an ounce of pain to ever be experienced, and be a total stranger to suffering. Every relationship shall flourish, and they would be liked by all who come into their lives. They will go to college, have stable jobs with 401k’s and bonuses, enjoy faithful spouses who adore them, and they shall have healthy children who give them the same peace and happiness that my kids will have given to me.  Does that sound about right? Wrong. Bullsh*t.

That is not at all what I want for them. It doesn’t work that way. At least it hasn’t for me. All that stuff I was talking about before would not have provided me with an ounce of satisfaction. Growing up as a white kid in Germantown, with two parents and an entire family that loved and cared for me, it would be tough to sell you on the idea that my life was overly challenging. My parents loved me very much and wanted good things for me, but they didn’t hover over me with a blanket over my shoulders to shield me from danger, and earmuffs so as to not hear the harshness of the world. If they would have, I would probably hate them for it. I am a control freak of sorts, and I am doing my best to enjoy watching the world work, instead of trying to work the world. It is so arrogant to believe that I can make my children be this way, or that way. I can demonstrate these things, but I cannot “make” them “be” anything, any more than an apple can make an orange be an apple. I simply cannot change another one’s nature.

So, if I had my five minutes with Da Big Man in the golden recliner, I would ask for these things for my children. Make them good hearted and caring, but provide that fire when they have been pushed too hard. Give them safety, but not too much. Allow them a broken bone, so they  can get their cast signed. Have them picked last, so they can strive to be first. Have them work their ass off for something, and fall short of their goal. Teach them that life isn’t fair, but it’s life…which is more than fair. Have them love till it hurts, and still not be noticed. Give them a season of losses, so to enjoy the big win.  Give them the acne, so they will know insecurity. Bend the fender, it happens, move on. Fail that big test that they studied so hard for, take it again, and strive to do better. Have their best friend betray them, so they can better know a friend, and have an enemy befriend them, so they learn to forgive. Allow them some mischief and  laughs through misconduct, but teach them the difference between horseplay and harm. Open their eyes to the ways of their family, but let them decide what they will leave and will take. Let them choose what to do with their future, and have them take my two cents worth, but value it as such. Give them the fortune they desire with no work on their part, then take it away so they can see what its worth. Have them not value “things” cause I said,  but let them choose things for themselves, for I have not the answers. Have them know what its like when the world’s out to get them, to be beaten, battered, tail-tucked and afraid, then have them bounce back stronger, confident, and brave. Surround them with half-wits, some low lives, and slackers, then give them up-lifters,  motivators, and well wishers. Let them make that decision for them, not for me. Push them so hard they will blame you and the world, them give them the calmness to see the real cause. Give them the failures,  ridicule, and the scorn, and give them compassion when it’s the other man’s turn.  Allow them to see that I don’t have the answers, but I have all the love that I hope they will need. I want them to know that I don’t want perfection, but that I want them to fail on their way to succeed.

Most of all, I want for myself to understand that it is not my job to make them into anything, but to be there for them as they become something different. I don’t want to control, but to appreciate and admire all the things that they are, and decide to be. I want to remember that just because I like something a certain way, that it does not make it right. I want to be always accepting of their beliefs, viewpoints, and their system of doing things. I hope that you have a good day, and experience as many ups, downs, and in-betweens as life has to offer you.

Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,

Beefcake

 

 

It Could Be A Helluva Lot Worse

January 26, 2016

“We become happier, much happier, when we realize life is an opportunity rather than an obligation.”
Mary Augustine

It is a good morning. I am sure of it. Any morning that I get out of a sheeted bed, in a heated home, under my own strength is a good one. A have a friend who is 72 years old, and he has lived through some real sh*t. One day I was giving him a long, drawn out story about how life was treating me unfairly and bla-blah-blur-bla-pity me-pity me. My friend just gave me a grin and exclaimed, “Wilson, if you think you are having a bad day now, try missing one of them.”(Yep, thats Billy D. if anyone was keeping up) I chuckled out loud, because this old dude is full of wisdom and perspective that can make anyone belly laugh. So, I feel that any day that I wake up 6′ above ground and have some work to do, then I have been dealt a pretty good hand.

I chose to sleep in and skip CrossFit this morning because I got to bed late, which by late I mean bout 9:45pm. At the end of the evening I could feel myself getting pouty, tired, and anxious. I use finess to give me energy, and sometimes I will keep pushing and pushing myself before I realize that I am not energized….I’m miserable. I did this last year while training for Sylamore 50k. I got so caught up in the result, that I forgot to enjoy the journey. I need to find balance. The reason I was out so “late” is that Amanda and I have enrolled in a 12 week ASL course to learn sign language. I can’t remember exaclty what made us decide to enroll, but we did. I have never met anyone who is so full of life as Amanda. There is absolutely nothing that she won’t do if there is the opportunity to pack a little more “life” into the equation. There is nothing that I won’t SAY i’m gonna do, but she will actually follow through, and I will follow her anywhere. She is whole hearted believer in trying, failing, trying again. If she sets her mind to something, she will knock at it’s door until someone answers or the hinges break off the frame. Anyway, I don’t have a concise reason as to my desire to learn sign language, but I like to think that it would be an opportunity to listen and connect with another individual who suffers from alcoholism or drug addiction. God only knows that my life would not be what it is today if people had not spent countless hours “listening” to what I had to say. I had SO MUCH SH*t in my head and heart, that I can’t imagine not having an outlet for which to get it all out. In typical fashion, here I am conjuring up visions of grandeur in regards to helping someone, and I don’t even know the alphabet. I had learned the alphabet well enough to MAYBE make it through one time, while stopping MAYBE once, or twice. Amanda was about the same….or so I thought. On the way to the class, she starts spelling out words to the music with her hand, and I about had a heart attack. She looked like an international mediator who was in charge of negotating a treaty between the Vice Lords and Gangster Disciplines all through signs. I was ill prepared and instantly afraid of the upcoming class. I was petrified. Keep in mind, Amanda has her doctorate…it took me twelve years to get my undergrad. My idea of accelerated classes involved amphetimines in the parking lot. This was well out of my comfort zone. It did not help when the teacher of the class informed us, with her hands, that there would be no speaking of any sort during class times…all signs. I whispered to Amanda that someone needed to quickly teach me how to sign, “oh fu*k”, cause that is what was going through my head for the next 120 minutes. All seriousness, it was really great and I welcome the challenge. I’m a little slower than many in the class, but I tend to start slow…and gradually taper off. Just kidding. I’ll be fine. All good things.

Sooooo, about my day today, THIS is what I do:

 

Clearly I’m a pretty big deal. Part of my worldly duties is that I sweep parking lots. Well, I actually blow parking lots while my buddy drives the vaccuum truck. It’s kinda like being doctor, except it requires no education, very little knowledge, and any idiot can do it. This being said, I fu*king love it. I love the openess of the huge warehouse parking lots. I love the excercise, as I will travel 12-15 miles a day with a 10lb blower on my back. And, I love the time to myself and my thoughts. I will tell you another reason that I enjoy it, as I have shared before. One my grandfathers was studying to be an attorney before he was attacked by friendly fire in WWII. After having a metal plate placed in his head, and most of his vision lost, he was unable to practice law. He spent the rest of his career with a respectful job on the sales floor at Goldmith’s. I never once heard him bitch or complain about what could have been. He didn’t live like he had been fu*ked over, he lived like he was lucky to be alive, and he did his work with pride and integrity. My other grandfather was a pipe welder. He was the son of an alcoholic and lived his youth travelling from place to place as his dad found work on the railroad. He learned a trade and learned it well. He provided for his family, and he did it with dignity. So, with that being said, those are two distinguished men who would welcome me, or any guy like me, at their dinner table. They are people that did not place importance on WHAT you did, as much as THAT you did, something. You do a job, and you do it the best that you can, and anyone with an opinion can suck it (pretty sure neither of my grandparents said “suck it”…not a direct quote). If I can die having just had the opportunity to provide for my family, to any degree at all, then I consider myself lucky.

Y’all have a good day, don’t take it all too seriously, and by all means if someone tells you it cannot be done…full throttle, onward and upward.

Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,

Beefcake