Category: Relationships

  • Roll Clear

    People are worn away with
    striving,
    they hide in common
    habits.
    their concerns are herd
    concerns.

    Few have the ability to stare
    at an old shoe for
    ten minutes
    or to think of odd things
    like who invented the
    doorknob?

    they become unalive
    because they are unable to
    pause
    undo themselves
    unkink
    unsee
    unlearn
    roll clear.
    listen to their untrue
    laughter, then
    walk
    away.
    — Charles Bukowski, the area of pause

    I haven’t quoted the entire poem, just the part that jumped out at me today. Today is the tomorrow of yesterday, which was full of business talk and bold declarations of working to the last. I grow silent in such moments. Listening? Respectfully, but already turning away from the conversation in my mind.

    We all know that old expression, “If you do what you love you’ll never work a day in your life”. I view work as a transactional relationship. I’m all in when I’m in it, and I keep it at arm’s length when I’m not. Wherever I am, I strive to be aware and alive. I believe that this will apply equally well in retirement one day.

    One old industry friend is counting down his final 40 days to retirement. Another was beginning a new job, hungry for the adrenaline hit of being the new guy once again. Both are older than me, looking at their careers in entirely different ways from each other. And maybe from me too. I don’t aspire to longevity in my tenure, I aspire to breadth and depth in a life well-lived. If that betrays me as something other than fully-committed, then so be it. I view that as fog of war stuff, for those who drink too much Kool-Aid.

    Every day offers a retirement of sorts. We leave work behind or we don’t. We may walk away, I say! Roll clear of all that has a hold of us and breathe in the fresh air of a new perspective. Life is change, and our next chapter awaits. Rester soi-même—be yourself. Wherever we may be on this journey through time.

  • The Price of Proximity

    Is your figure less than Greek?
    Is your mouth a little weak?
    When you open it to speak
    Are you smart?
    — Richard Rodgers & Lorenz Hart, My Funny Valentine

    I know a couple who have been married longer than I’ve been alive. When one of them gets tired of each other’s company they turn off their hearing aids so they don’t have to listen to the other. They’ve heard it all before, and how many times does someone have to tell us the same story again anyway? Funny, but they focus on each other when they need to.

    We know couples who stay together out of habit, or obligation, or because they feel it’s better than being alone. We know couples forever in love with life and flying around in each other’s orbit. And love is indeed a wonderful thing, but what is the foundation under all that loftiness? When we decide on a partnership that will last a lifetime, what is more important than listening to what each other has to say? To be a part of the scheme as we follow our dream?

    “The opposite of love’s indifference.” — The Lumineers, Stubborn Love

    To be interested in the life of another for the rest of our lives is the key to a long relationship. That applies to friendship, marriage, business partnerships and pen pals. We may hear the same stories again and again, but that’s the price of proximity. There are precious few days with which we may be together on this march to infinity. So what is it you want to say? I’m listening.

  • Full of Answers

    “Life has no meaning. Each of us has meaning and we bring it to life. It is a waste to be asking the question when you are the answer.” — Joseph Campbell

    I spent yesterday in a busy office, bouncing ideas off of others, being interrupted from my work flow to discuss projects or weigh in on what some other characters should have for lunch, catching up on who has left and who is carrying the burden of their absence (clever executives believing doing more with less is a model of efficiency), and generally being in the mix of team dynamics.

    What brings us to life, if not our engagement with others, and the world beyond? We find productivity in solitude, but richness with company. There is a healthy balance to be found as an integral part of the tribe sometimes, and in quietly going our own way other times. It’s not so much that we need others, it’s that we choose to be with others, for all that others bring to us and we in turn bring to them.

    What has meaning in an empty house? Nothing, I suppose. But is a house empty if we are in it, assessing its relative emptiness? Fullness comes from within. Here too, we find the seed of meaning from which to grow a life. The answers in our lives always begin from within, and yet we must reach beyond the self to realize them. We will never truly escape the labyrinth in this lifetime, but who ever said being full of answers was the purpose of the game anyway?

  • Be Generous

    “The things you do for yourself are gone when you are gone, but the things you do for others remain as your legacy.” — Kalu Ndukwe Kalu

    Generosity is more than beginning with the end in mind. Legacy may or may not be important to us in any given moment of decision (clearly, so many choices in a lifetime don’t involve how we’d like to be remembered), but something within us leads us to or away from generosity. As the not-so-generous might ask, what’s in it for us by being generous?

    The answer is literally beyond the grasp of the selfish among us. Generosity is reaching beyond the self to touch the lives of others. The act of being generous connects us to others, physically or spiritually. One generous act ripples beyond our self. In this way we grow into someone far beyond the self. We touch upon the infinite.

    I may never have a wikipedia page covering the highlights of my life, but the donation I make to someone’s GoFundMe or letting someone turn into traffic are examples of quietly extending my reach. Leading by example in a world that often feels too self-absorbed and selfish. It’s what we do here and now that brings light into the world.

  • The Ideal Life

    “Good friends, good books and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.” — Mark Twain

    Lately, I’ve spent a lot of quality time with some good books. I’ve had less of that quality time with good friends, but we make it count when we reconnect. Life is what we make of it, and maintaining connection is a large part of a great life.

    Friends amplify experience. Going out and experiencing life solo has it’s perks, but try multiplying what we experience by one and see what it equals. Those friends also help us live longer, more vibrant lives. If increasing one’s health span is the ultimate goal, relationships with others is clearly the path to be on.

    Have I sold you on maintaining friendships yet? How about that sleepy conscience Twain refers to? Who else are we going to be foolish with than our friends? Who will know our stories, and keep them locked up in a vault only we can reminisce about? An ideal life is full of stories, whether we tell anyone else about them or not.

    (Happy Birthday, my friend)

  • Kindred Spirits

    Why worry
    There should be laughter after pain
    There should be sunshine after rain
    These things have always been the same
    So why worry now
    — Dire Straights, Why Worry

    I met a lovely woman maybe 30 years older than me. She is an ambassador for joyful living, shuffling along in an assisted living facility with her walker, getting her steps in, saying hello to everyone and talking with those who wish to linger in conversation. It turns out I like to linger in conversation myself, so we hit it off right away. The joyful know immediately when they’ve found someone like themselves.

    On each visit to see family I’ve seen her as well, and the connection grows. Each conversation with this new friend reveals something new. Moving in, she lost her husband almost immediately afterwards. She said that’s how it goes in a life. A couple of years later, the pain is still evident, but so is her presence. She’s living here and now, carrying what was and aware of what will be. The thing about joy is it’s always here, not some time behind or ahead of us. We just need to discover it.

    It has always been so, this ebb and flow. So don’t get too high, and don’t get too low. Living well means to be deliberate in our joyful pursuits and generous with sharing that joy with others. Sometimes a simple hello said the right way offers connection we never expected. We may never pass this way again, so why not take the opportunity to lift and reassure? For there is hope in this world, as long as we keep finding kindred spirits in all sorts of places.

  • But Not Today

    “When you feel like quitting,
    just do five more:
    5 more minutes, 5 more pages,
    5 more steps. Then repeat. Sometimes
    you can break through and keep going,
    but even if you can’t, you ended five ahead.
    Tell yourself that you will quit tomorrow,
    but not today.”
    — Kevin Kelly, Excellent Advice for Living

    This blog continues because I subscribe to the theory of quitting tomorrow, but not today. I’ll write just one more post, and one more again, and soon there’s a streak worthy of consideration when I really don’t feel like it anymore. Those moments are rare, but they happen. Simply kick to tomorrow what ought to be kicked. Today be alive with the task at hand.

    Kelly’s book is a collection of tweetable nuggets like the one above, if one were still to tweet. More to the point, it’s shared wisdom from one cat to the rest of us. We all ought to learn a thing or two and then share it with those who are rising to take our place on the line. We all ought to be aware of our place as a linchpin in the lives of so many who quietly go on with their lives, meaning to tell us one day what we mean to them, but not today. The trick is to not be the one who puts off the important stuff to tomorrow. No regrets—simply do it now.

    We each have work to do. I know I ought to work on being more fluent in French before I go to France. Perhaps today I’ll resume those lessons. I ought to do all of the exercises in my physical therapy program if I hope to see improvement on my gimpy ankle. We know what has to be done. We just put off the wrong thing. Instead of doom-scrolling or binge-watching, do something that we may repeat again tomorrow. Then do it again. It’s simple really. So why hasn’t it caught on more?

  • Third Things

    “Third things are essential to marriages, objects or practices or habits or arts or institutions or games or human beings that provide a site of joint rapture or contentment. Each member of a couple is separate; the two come together in double attention. Lovemaking is not a third thing but two-in-one. John Keats can be a third thing, or the Boston Symphony Orchestra, or Dutch interiors, or Monopoly.” — John Hall, The Third Thing

    We have our self, we have our selves, and we have what we are mutually focused on in our time together. Like being on teams, whether sports or companies or projects worked on with mutual focus and effort, that thing we focus on together becomes a link that bonds us in the moment and forever after. A long-term relationship is simply coexisting with someone else with mutual attention on a series of third things we carry with us for the rest of our days.

    Our hiking friends have the mountains and expanding red lines on trail maps as their third thing. Our sailing friends scheme of bigger boats and tropical anchorages. Our lake friends are quietly carving out a life as snowbirds and the idea of growing old in a forever summer lifestyle. My sister and brother-in-law have found pickleball a useful third thing bringing them fitness and an expansive social life. We’re all different, and so too are the things we give our lives to in mutual focus.

    Third things capture a time in our life that we’ll remember one day when the math is no longer one plus one plus one more thing. We may be aware of such things as subtraction without dwelling on it. We all know the score. For it’s a thing too. Sha-la, la-la-la-la, live for today…

    What do we—together—focus on other than ourselves? The list comes easily at times. The frisbee-loving pup. The house and whatever the latest project is that my bride has deemed essential to our well-being. Always, the children, then aspiring student-athletes, now adults. Increasingly, the parents, and all that aging parents mean for them… and for us. Travel and collecting experiences once deferred for other third things. Third things are our common ground, focused on together yet differently. A part of us, yet not us.

  • The Joyful Stir

    “You must learn to drink the cup of life as it comes … without stirring it up from the bottom. That’s where the bitter dregs are!” — Agnes Sligh Turnbull

    Celebrating the holidays is easy when we’re around friends and family. It’s not as easy for those who are alone. Some are blessed with an abundance of people in their lives through proximity and an inclination for connection. Some go out of their way to stay away. Be yourself, but know that you always have a place at our table.

    I have two neighbors who have lived next to each other for a quarter century who won’t make eye contact with each other but go out of their way to say hello to everyone else who walks up the street. Some people are naturally closer than others. Something was said, some point of contention remains, stubborn righteousness kicks in and the years go by with scarcely a nod between them. It’s extraordinary to behold.

    Generational baggage clings to some families. Like my two neighbors, whatever it was that happened, it never fades away. Awareness reveals entire family histories. A family may be at the same Christmas party and be as far away from each other as if they were in separate countries, while laughing and bonding with the rest of us. Why? Only they know, but the holidays are no time to stir up the bitter dregs.

    We ought to learn to be alone, if only to ensure that when we inevitably are, we aren’t so lonely. To be alone in a room full of people is an inclination, as much as not being lonely when there’s nobody there but us and the ticking clock. Joyfulness is an active-participation sport, and we reap what we sow. We ought to learn to let bygones be bygones, even in these contentious, divided times, and find a way back to connection. We must keep stirring joy, for when something is bitter, a little sweetener goes a long way.

  • The Shared Secret

    Fool if you think it’s over
    ‘Cos you said goodbye
    Fool if you think it’s over
    I’ll tell you why
    New born eyes always cry with pain
    At the first look at the morning sun
    You’re a fool if you think it’s over
    It’s just begun
    — Chris Rea, Fool (If You Think It’s Over)

    Life is pain, as the Dread Pirate Roberts told Buttercup in The Princess Bride. It’s full of setbacks and sadness, betrayals and “between jobs” lean living. But it’s also full of climbs to redemption and epic comebacks and the finding of strides. The trick is to see beyond the pain of the moment and find a way to a better place beyond. To remember, always, that this too shall pass.

    Chris Rea passed away yesterday. He was bigger in the EU than he was in America, but he had that one ear worm of a song that stayed with you, reminding you that there will be more breakups and sad days in our future, but just keep singing your song and try again with the next one. And sure, there’s a life lesson there that resonates about pain and resilience and such very human things. Nobody said this would be easy.

    We look around one day and realize that we’ve been very lucky indeed with some things, not so lucky with some other things, but we’ve arrived here nonetheless. Wherever here is. Whatever we’re supposed to do with what we’ve arrived with. The lesson is to keep on figuring things out. That’s the shared secret we’re all working from. To keep on facing whatever life throws at us next and begin again.