Things one should never outgrow:

M & L waiting together to ride the bumper cars. 💗

human warmth... emotional safety... secure attachment... healthy coregulation... and reminding us grown-ups, just how to be with each other in this sorry world.  

Charged Up?

Warning: reading the following will be similar to watching Homer Simpson's father yell at clouds. 

Don't sweat the small stuff, right? Good advice, wisdom I aspire to. But I'll sweat like an inflamed hotdog on rollers if the situation involves 9@#%&*! rechargeable batteries. 

It all began innocently, fueled by good intentions: care for the environment by investing in reusable batteries. I could never have predicted what ensued LITERALLY OVER MORE THAN A DECADE NOW AND ONGOING UGH.

Step 1: Buy double A and triple A batteries & rechargers.

Step 2: Tickety-boo.

Step 3: Cut to many months later: access batteries as needed, but wait, where are said batteries? Begin a decade-long career as a part-time unpaid private investigator only to discover various family members have (repeatedly) stolen said batteries and removed them from the premises. Insert Dad sigh here.

Step 4: Buy more rechargeable batteries. Not cheap are they? Discover some rechargeable battery brands do not function with other charger brands. Draft a sternly worded email in my brain, a complaint for which there is essentially no recipient. Insert low growling here. Test and retest said batteries among chargers repeatedly aiming to actually charge some of my now 17 "rechargeable" batteries aka become a part-time unpaid "Customer Support Specialist/Technical Support Analyst." 

Step 5: After much problem-solving and testing and retesting, all said batteries are FINALLY CHARGING. Note to future self that some batteries must be clipped into the correct recharger quite delicately to avoid angry-red-flashing indicator light that said battery is not connected properly and therefore not recharging. Because of the time gaps between switching batteries, each reset requires 24-48 hours to successfully finagle this process, but thanks to (waning) neuroplasticity, my brain eventually forged a reliable system, a system I used repeatedly over the years, a system NO ONE ELSE CARES ABOUT OR RESPECTS AND IT'S SO CONVOLUTED I CAN'T EVEN EXPLAIN IT.

Step 6: Various family members continue to steal said batteries. Grievous family text chain dynamics ensue to no avail: Dad, who has time to figure out where the batteries might be now? EXACTLY. Begin to ponder the very 21st century notion that essentially, I need an assistant to manage my reusable batteries! 

Step 7: Finally, our kids move away with most of said rechargeable batteries, so I buy what I vow will be MY VERY LAST BATTERIES and promptly hide them in places I hope they will go unnoticed. 

Step 8: Tickety-boo....

Step 9: Years pass, but I flinch every time someone gets close to those 9@#%&*! batteries. However, my system holds until one day my life-partner needs batteries for spontaneously-purchased grandkid toys, forgetting the aforementioned drama and unwittingly interferes with the rechargeable batteries system NOT REALIZING THEY ARE EXTREMELY TEMPERMENTAL. After I return home to discover ABSOLUTE RECHARGABLE BATTERY CHAOS, said partner (understandably) observes my meltdown with facial expressions similar to Dorothy's from The Golden Girls. 

Step 10: Hangs head in shame and googles rechargeable batteries support groups then begins a TWO-WEEK RESET COME ON TO NO AVAIL: IT'S AS THOUGH THESE BATTERIES FORGOT THEIR SOLE FUNCTION AND, LIKE THEIR SCIENTIFICALLY-INFERIOR COUSINS, NEED TO BE REPLACED.... 

Insert sheepish epiphany moment here as this describes the exact moment I realized that these mostly old-ass rechargeable batteries have no doubt expired...BUT WHICH ONES?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

UGH.

Sometimes

Sometimes I suspect that people rarely ever think about photosynthesis or how every leaf is truly astonishing. Sometimes I find this bewildering. 

Sometimes I wonder if it's odd that I changed Siri's voice to an Irishman to help me cope with the psychic weight of these 2020s. 

Sometimes I wish psychology was a core subject, like language, math and science and sometimes I think this might solve all the world's problems.  

Sometimes, unless it's about mobility or herding small kids, I am so deeply confused by people who park aggressively. Sometimes I park like a lollygagging idiot. 

Sometimes I wonder if the person I'm having a conversation with is also struggling to hear and hence we're both pretending to hear what the other is saying and nodding periodically and hoping for the best. Sometimes I wonder what I haven't heard. 

Sometimes I have to give my default people-pleasing self a stern talking-to. 

Sometimes when I press unsubscribe I picture the bot(?) in charge of fulfilling my request, smirking. Sometimes I wonder if I actually forgot to unsubscribe. Sometimes I can't recall from what I unsubscribed. 

Sometimes I wonder if my DIY shortcuts are actually genius—like carpet tape works just as well as glue to install vinyl in a closet, right?—and then I remember that time my Dad renovated and left the old chimney hole in the living room floor and just strategically placed a tv tray over it. (Sometimes I wonder if environment is also genetics.)

Sometimes I wonder in my grandson L is actually an adult comedian trapped in a toddler's body and he's pissed off because he knows it too. 

Sometimes I suspect I might be the only human who walks laps around the dining room table while I read. 

Sometimes I'm 20% in the room with you, but 80% also elsewhere. 

Lapels

Sometimes I'll read something and it grips me by the lapels and stares at me, demands my attention, and when I attend, it grips my shoulders and turns me another direction so that I'm looking at the world anew. 

That, dear friends, is the power of reading and why I love it.  

Sometimes what I've read is profound, and other times, not...BUT even when it's not a revelation, it can be a novel distraction prompting my (pea)brain to say, go there and poke around. Hence the rest of this (crafted before this introduction) is (mostly) stream of consciousness. Let's go:

 

I saw the following comment on another writer's blog post, one in which she had added a selfie: "you have kind eyes" (I agree) and the invitation to reply, aka start a conversation. It made me think. And think. And think. The comment is not so unusual, but in this instance? It hit different. It registered. 

My reply:

1. Is there a better compliment? Not today—at least I can't think of one—what a fine compliment!
2. Do I have kind eyes? Hmm, I don't recall anyone ever using that adjective to describe my eyes.  
3. What have people said about my eyes? When I was in Junior High the girl who sat in front of me on the bus said, "your eyes are steel gray-blue." My heart thudded.
4. Don't most people have kind eyes? Yes, kinda. In various interactions such as when the baker hands me the cake I ordered (typically transactional)...those are kind eyes, but bona fide kind eyes? There's something else there, something subtle, something beckoning, something calm yet charged. What is it?  
5. What other words describe eyes I've encountered? Playful. Mischievous. Winsome. Sparkly. Attractive. Squishy. Sharp. Dismissive. Guarded. Pleading. Cold. Drunk. (Just first thoughts...all creatives should avoid judging the brainstorming process, so I am trying not to overthink these word-choices.)
6. Whose eyes do I deem kind? My grandmother had kind eyes. But it wasn't just her eyes...it was her voice too, her proximity.
7. Do most people actually (searching for the right word here...searching...) ratify compliments, or do they (like me) dismiss them? I wonder. 
8. They seem to have big egos, so do narcissists actually need compliments? First thought: Trump. Insert barf emoji here. 
9.  Are kind eyes impossible to fake, like could someone wholly unkind have kind eyes? Yes, I think it's possible...looking at you Netflix, and your ongoing (problematic but compelling) obsession with tweaking serial killer narratives with redemptional arcs to sustain us all while we navigate this age of (legit) horror, if that makes any sense at all? Anybody?
10. What's the best compliment I've ever received? *scanning... deflecting... scanning... dismissing... second-guessing... scanning....*

Dear friends, feel free to respond to any of these questions. I'm curious about how your answers may grab my lapels. 

Things one should outgrow:

source

 groaking.

 Is this word new to you too? 

To groak (verb) means to stare longingly at a person who is eating in hopes of being invited to join in/them. 

Hmm. Someone starving? Of course. A child? Certainly. A pet? Perhaps...

But what if it's fries?! I have lots of thoughts: 

1. *gives the stink-eye*
2. Back off there, bud.
3. Get your own fries.
4. No.
5. Why didn't you order fries?
6. Look, I'll order more.
7. Just a few.
8. Okay that's enough.
9. *silent seething*
10. Groak off! 

Thursdays

Recently, thanks to another blogger, I experienced the "psychological relief" of learning the oh-so-apt name for what we're all experiencing in the 20s: hypernormalization. This is that feeling of dread and powerlessness that permeates our modern lives as we endure daily chaos written off by those in power as uh, I don't know, Thursday, so we square our shoulders, endure, and continue our daily lives amidst the pervasive instability, because uh, what the hell can we really do about it anyway? Sigh. 

So I'm taking a break, sort of a psychological relief break. Let me explain. 

While watering the front garden yesterday, a butterfly landed on me. Oddly, I gasped. I think I reacted this way because it's very 2025 to deem this incident as the ominous opening "butterfly effect" to yet another shitshow. But no. Just what I needed, it took me out of my head. I love it when nature taps me on the shoulder. Delightful. 

Despite everything, what else is delightful? Let's go there. 

Words. Words are delightful. So is corn-on-the-cob and trees and the northern lights and ice cream and garden spaces and when women wear kilts in curling competitions and wedding vows and music and art and the human eye (each so startlingly unique and beautiful) and history class and movies and hilarious one-liners and Lego and librarians and architects and artists and writers and ee cummings and books so moving they shouldn’t end and deep-fried fish and chips and Scotland and Ireland and the Maritimes and Montreal and the wide Saskatchewan horizon line and waving grain and frogs and northern Alberta’s long, long summer days and a freshly painted room and golden hour and watching people open presents and (controversial) tuna casserole and The Swedish Chef and bork bork bork and making cupcakes and cookies and giving them away and haircuts and sleeping in and lavender and poppies and rabbits and snowmobiling and skiing and long walks and picking saskatoons and wood furniture and my bed and my house and my flat-cap and CBC radio and sudden rain and sticky-note pads and my grandkids and the countless ways my spouse, my children, and their children enrich and fortify my ordinary (extraordinary) life, and friends too, playing dice or Ticket-to-Ride or texting memes and when human facades fade and when we admit our stupidity and interdependence and people who don’t condemn others and don't complain just for the sake of complaining and people who understand being neighbourly and Dolly Parton and nurses and people who care for the elderly and my past and present teachers and every teacher my kids ever had and grandmothers and people who snowplow or can fix your AC and people committed to improving the world peacefully and self-deprecating people and comedians and unifiers and people who volunteer and people who are honest, people who encourage without ulterior motives and especially how sometimes the world seems to conspire to make me butterfly happy and oh ya, run-on sentences—I love run-on sentences too.

Dear friends, there is also psychological relief in naming what you delightfully love. Even on Thursdays. Sigh, it's often impossible to love what's going on in the world, but we can love our way through it. Right? 

That 10%

My favourite Father's Day cards, lol.

If you're a parent, you've heard this statistic: "90% of the time you will ever spend with your children happens during their first 18 years." I've been in the latter 10% zone for several years now and missing them today, I have thoughts:

It's true. Everyone knows time is a thief and yet we still let it pillage willy-nilly. 

This is a relationship, like all relationships: trust, honesty, respect, boundaries. 

Less saviour, more listener. 

Fact: you're not the same. Live with it and learn from it. 

You will always worry, but don't make this about you.  

This relationship is both timeworn and contemporary. You've both made mistakes. Let shit go and shut up. 

Don't leave the loving things unsaid and let your actions speak too. 

Continue to pay attention, hear, love. 

Be available. Don't hover. Jump at opportunities to make new memories together whether that's as simple as cleaning the garage together or a trip to Mexico (and everything in between). 

Check yourself for updates aka use this extra time to become a better parent/person. 

It does not matter your age; everyone needs someone who believes in them. 

Fave Reads 2022

Happy Hogmanay. I'll be honest: the last several years, my reading criteria has narrowed. Is it under 250 pages? Did someone I love recommend it? Life is too short to finish an underwhelming book. None of these underwhelmed me for one second. In no order (three are Canadian), I loved these books and these authors made me miss books, again. and I'm grateful for their lessons. 

It will gut you. Like
its comedian-actor-author,
this memoir is painfully
& proudly honest as well
as ferociously funny.
This is grief dialed up
and it will heal people.

In less than 250 pages,
Toews thoughtfully
presents us with a 
group of vulnerable
Mennonite women & one
 man as they dissect the
violence and ideology
that minimizes and
marginalizes them.
In other words, it's a
thoroughly modern
and on-going story.

Come for the truth &
the reconciliation; stay
for these characters' 
resilience, hope, and
humour. 

These Canadian children
and those who love them
will break your heart.
This Canadian novel
should be the 
first read in a social
work degree. 

I saw the film first. 
Cinematography at its
finest. Written in 1967(!)
For readers who love
complex and broken
characters in pain,
and for those forced to live
with their bullies or endure
imagined bullies.  

I wish I had a flame-thrower.

source

Since March 2020, living in Alberta and surviving a pandemic has been, um, interesting. Of course the entire world has experienced ups and downs but our struggles have been compounded by our particular government, loathe to admit their number one job during a crisis: public service. No matter where you live, maybe you can relate? 

I need to vent. 

First Wave

1. Fear
2. Toilet Paper
3. Social Distancing
4. Our government: let's fire people.
5. Anxiety and confusion.
6. We told our daughter not to visit us. *heart breaks* 
7. Visit relatives through windows.
8. Celebrate health care heroes.
9. Masks everywhere except on Facebook.
10. Hunkering down & resilience.

Second Wave

1. Government: let's keep everyone in suspense.
2. Government: mixed messages are still messages, right? (Some MLAs resist restrictions).
3. Government: we would prefer if more of you died. 
4. Perseverance
5. Tick, tick, tick...
6. EVERYONE STAY HOME AGAIN.
7. CANCEL ALL PLANS (except politicians who have to go to Hawaii, and such). 
8. World Ending (January 6, 2021)
9. Eat everything.
10. Hunkering down & resilience.
11. Celebrating health care heroes.
12. Some churches can't remember the golden rule.
13. Government: get vaccinated now.
14. Government: let me be clear; Alberta will never have vaccine passports.
15. 30% of Albertans begin doing "research."
16. 70% of Albertans get vaccinated 12 minutes after they're eligible.
17. Our premier takes a camera crew with him to go hug his mother. 
18. Government: get vaccinated now but we can't tell you if we are vaccinated or not.

Third Wave:

1. In their "spare time," doctors pick up extra jobs being activists (to fill the void in government leadership).
2. Fatigue.
3. Hanging on.
4. EVERYONE STAY HOME FOR TWO WEEKS. 
5. Infections and hospitalizations dramatically decrease.
6. Government: But, rodeos!
7. Government: "Open for summer; open for good" & "BEST SUMMER EVER." lol, facepalm
8. Government: here's some money to get vaccinated (suck that, vaccine passports). 
9. Welcome relief (temporary). 
10. As summer continues, the predominant facial expression is side-eye.

Fourth Wave:

1. Government: our non-plans for rising case numbers are data-based; also, let's make sure kids aren't protected this Fall.
2. Where's the data?
3. Government: [away-from-office auto-reply]
4. Um, hello?
5. Hello?
6. SCREAMING INTO THE VOID.
7. Doctors organize daily demonstrations begging for basic restrictions for children & other vulnerable people.
8. Government: here's a video and see, it's not pre-recorded like the Christmas vacations ones were. 
9. Covidiots complete their covid-19 Facebook degrees.
10. Covidiots begin protesting at hospitals.
11. Government: we're fiscally responsible but here's more money for anti-vaxxers (suck it, people who already got vaccinated).
12. Government: we still can't declare our own vaccinations statuses.
13. Reporter: "But health minister, people are dying!" 
14. Government: "That's good feedback for us."
15. WTF?
16. Rage flame-throwing (aka writing yet another MLA letter).
17. Government: here's a vaccine passport but we named it something else stupid and confusing. 
18. Next? Perhaps the military will be deployed to help save us from our government & covidiots? 
19. Rage wood-chipping.  
20. Hunkering down & resilience. 

For Clarity

It may not look like it yet, but Spring is almost here—my favourite season. This Spring will be like none before, at least in my lifetime. Still, I am grateful for Spring. For conversations with my daughter. For a silly video from my son. For the way my wife looks at me sometimes. For friends. For my work colleagues and their dedication to all things education, even without students. For doctors and nurses and medical staff. For scientists and leaders who heed them. For surprise chocolate-chip cookies. For one last gift from my 96-year-old Grandmother. For wanting to write again. For another day. For clarity.

What we do for others—it's all that matters.

Fave Reads 2019

Paulo Freire said, "to speak a true word is to transform the world." I didn't realize it until now, but many of my favourite 2019 reads were about uncovering truths. Not an easy task; it requires adjusting and readjusting mindset. Some books hold truth like pebbles--gather enough and finally there comes an identity landslide. Some pebbles, some more, these were my favourite reads this year.

I re-read this short memoir this
year, probably for the third or
fourth time. It's just pure honesty.

I became fascinated with
artist Paul Klee, whom I studied
for a research project. Part
philosophy, part drawing
guide, this book is packed with
ideas that jolt us from a passive
view about art & design. 

The plot unfolds backwards
revealing a doctor's sickening
history, but the narrator's
confusion and despair
unfolds forwards, and
breaks his heart.

It's gripping, and despite
Atwood's eerie dystopia
firmly connected to our
modern times, it's hopeful. 

As a teen, I read almost everything
King wrote. This book made
me want to re-read those
and so many others I've missed.
Using magic-realism, King
asks us to reflect on what weighs
us down, what immobilizes us.
Not scary, this novella works like
 a companion to King's best books
because it shows us the good
inside his heart. 

I read this as part of a
creative nonfiction class.
A brave author who
holds nothing back. 

Sometimes

Sometimes one sentence says so much. And no period is needed because it won't stop anyway.

Sometimes it's hard to think about anything but that one thing that's missing.

Sometimes all the wonders can be overwhelming.

Sometimes blank paper invites the deepest conversations we have with ourselves.

Sometimes, if I listen carefully, I can hear the past run up the stairs.

Sometimes & Something

Sometimes the absolute best thing is a movie. No question. Add popcorn and lots of butter. And a blanket, a pillow, chips, some chocolate. Or in a theatre with a crowd, each and all fixated, the light flickering in our eyes. Sometimes it’s all a person really needs to feel whole again.

So Hollywood! Stop making the same bad movie again and again. Sure, what makes movies great is very subjective and yet I believe that a truly great, unforgettable movie must contain at least ten of the following things:

1.       a surprise

2.       some kissing

3.       a character with lots of good and a little bad too, a character to like and an unlikeable character (and sometimes maybe they switch places)

4.       a laugh out loud moment or a moment that breaks your heart (or both)

5.       something one’s eyes want to hang on to

6.       somewhere and something lovely and somewhere and something loathly

7.       something on fire (but not necessarily any smoke)

8.       something simple, something complex

9.       something to feed or stretch or snap the imagination

10.   some music and sound effects and special effects and when and only when it’s really needed: some silence.

11.   someone’s eyes yelling and someone’s eyes whispering

12.   something to absorb and something to reject

13.   something uncomfortable

14.   someone so so so determined to fix what or whom is broken

15.   something shocking, something soothing (shivers and thumps)

16.   sincerity, honesty, vulnerability

17.   an advance and a retreat, an attack and a surrender

18.   a quotable quote

19.   something that doesn’t belong, something not seen before

20.   a cow but only if there’s a twister too (aka something impossible to forget)

21.   something to think about when it’s over

22.   something to talk about afterwards

23.   a mirror

24.   a mistake…

But mostly,

      25. an unforgettable movie must have a partner to share it with. 

2014 Reads

"No two persons ever read the same book." ~Edmund Wilson

Absolutely. True.

Just one of the reasons why books are so powerful. Following (in no particular order) are my five favourite reading experiences this year.

Raw. Violent. Tender.
Exploitation. Colonialism. Pain.
Perseverance. It's everything my
country was founded on and
almost 400 years later
 these wounds remain unhealed.

Ever want to smash everything
because unfairness has ruined
everything? This cathartic
journey with a 13 year old boy
both smashes and soothes.

A clever little book especially
for creatives written in ABC
format (and I'm always a sucker for that).
Never forget: umbrellas
completely miss the point. 

I just love that Banksy exists
and he wants us to THINK
about art, about what we value,
about who we are. 

Quite simply it just felt
like unadulterated TRUTH
to me. So useful (especially
if you're human). Validates.
Inspires. Guides. Heals. 

Problem Solving

My poor wife. She did it again. Some people struggle to learn and that’s why they repeat the same mistakes. What grievous error now you ask? She bought the Christmas baking much much too early again. Plus, she “hid” those sugary bonbons in the freezer where ANYONE can find them. And by anyone, I mean my teens. And since they moved away, by my teens I mean me. But none of this is my fault. I blame the washing machine.

The washing machine said it needed five more minutes before I could transfer my clothing to the dryer. So I looked in the freezer. And that’s when I spotted a Tupperware container of home-made cookies of various shapes, sizes, and delicious-es. What’s a guy to think and what’s a guy to do when confronted with such a conundrum? This:

1. She won’t notice if I eat just one.
2. Hmm. Now there’s an empty spot in the container. I better eat one more, make it an even number again.
3. Uh oh, now there’s only one left in this row.
4. I better eat the last one in this row.
5. Uh oh. The entire row is gone.
6. I will rearrange them.
7. Hmm. Still gaps. I will arrange them differently.
8. It looks like I broke a few moving them around so I should probably eat those too.
9. More gaps. Bummer.
10. Hmm. If I eat all the cookies then hide the container, there is a 98% chance my wife will not remember purchasing them. Perfect.

Who says problem-solving is hard?

Grapes, etc.

At least once, shouldn't everyone get their very own miracle? Like some really immense-amazing-astonishing epic-event-experience that alters-mend-transforms everything? A blockbuster moment?

That’d be cool. And to answer that question, yes. But no too. No.

Stop waiting for cloud 9. Because while you’re waiting, clouds 1-8 already drifted by.  And look, there went another one.

Albert Einstein said, ““There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” I completely agree. Sometimes every ugly once-in-a-while nothing much seems like a miracle to me. I admit it. But usually, I choose to choose the other way. I choose to see the wonder, the phenomenon, the divine, whatever you want to call it. I guess what I’m saying is marvel at the marvels or you’ll lose your marbles. Miracles are particularly easy to find if you decide to look for them. Some examples:

1. Grapes turn into wine. Miracle. (More like science but still.)

2. Grapes turn into raisins. Miracle. (Again, science, but still.)

3. Grapes. Miracle. (Boom.)

4. Most of the snow melts in January. Miracle. (Er, more like climate change but still.)

5. Your dental appointment is cancelled. Miracle. (Maybe a coincidence but still.)

6. Discover forgotten chocolate. Miracle. (Maybe just forgetful but still.)

7. Didn’t completely screw up your kids. Miracle of miracles!

8. People read this. Miracle. (Seriously.)

9. Air-conditioning. Miracle. (For those three weeks in June? Totally.)

10. Someone pretty and cool and pretty cool married you. Miracle. (Admit it.)

2013 Reads

A little late. But who cares? As Dr. Seuss said so eloquently, “How did it get so late so soon? It's night before it's afternoon. December is here before it's June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?"

I can't imagine life with Dr. Seuss, or any of these writers, their books my favourite reads last year (in no particular order). 

Smart. Funny.
Even sorta math-y. 

TELL YOUR STORY
(even when it's heartbreaking).

Made me want to make
a mix tape. And find my
old friends. And it made
me feel again too
(because I stopped
feeling for a while.)

Thanks to Susan Cain
and stories like these,
I'm not so weird
anymore. 

Maybe cancer does
indeed reveal you
more than it changes you?
Whatever the answer, I
still fucking hate it.

Know.

“Clarity is the antidote to anxiety.” This quote really resonates with me. Do you have clarity in your life and how might this reduce anxiety and fear?

It’s the future again. Sure. I know. It’s just a number. Yet every new year feels a little insecure: both fresh yet uncertain. We wonder, what will this year bring? What joys? What sorrows? What else could Rob Ford possibly and inexplicably do? More important that all that nonsense and noise in the world, what are you hoping for? And what fears are holding you back?

I’m not talking about turkeys. No matter how times I give myself a pep-talk, I’ll probably always be afraid of turkeys. I’m referring to the other fears: the fears we ALL have, the real struggles in life. According to several anthropologists and scientists, these may have several names but they can be categorized into five basic human fears:

1.      Death/Pain (our own and others)

2.      Outsiders

3.      Insignificance/Loneliness/Rejection

4.      Chaos/Failure/Turmoil

5.      the Unknown

Think about those for a moment. What’s the common denominator? I think they all speak to the unknown. So how can we cope, or better yet, THRIVE despite the unknown? Maybe the answer is in the word itself. Unknown may be a few letters too long.

Know.

Hans Hoffman said, “The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary so the necessary can speak.” What’s truly necessary in your life? And what “noise” is interfering such that you don’t even know?

Know. Choose to know. Know what you believe. Know what you value. Know why. Know what you want. Know what you need. Name these things. Make a list. Keep it short. And then do something with this information. Live it. And use it for leverage when life gets scary. Live with purpose, on purpose.

Ever have...?

crap table

Ever have one of those days where you tell your wife, sure, no problem, go ahead and set up your craft/card-making table in my man-cave, but inside, a little part of you is dying?

Ever have one of those weekends where you decide to clean out a few closets and a few rooms and they film it for a show called Hoarders?

Ever have one of those years where you get a bank statement and it says you made a total of $1.38 interest on your savings account for the entire year?

Ever have one of those seconds where you blink and your kid seems taller than you are and you wonder where time went?

Ever have one of those coffee breaks where you think you had a really good nap but it was only like two minutes, and (awkwardness) it was during a meeting?

Ever have one of those weeks when none of the plug-ins in any of your bathrooms work and so you phone an electrician and after you explain you’ve tried that, and that, and that, he still says he can’t come and gives you a few tips on how to play with those electrical wires yourself and so you google it six different ways and then resign yourself to inevitable and imminent electrocution.

Ever have one of those 15 minutes you’ll never get back because someone pocket-dialed you from Oregon but you don’t know anyone from Oregon and so you let it go to voice mail and then you have to remember what your voice mail password is and then when you finally listen to your voice mail it’s all garbled talking but you listen to the very end anyway because there is the remote possibility that someone has been kidnapped and all these mumbles are actually clues and you might need to rescue the dialer and you could be their absolute last hope but the rational side (sliver) of your brain is reminding you that you probably watch way too much TV. 

Ever have one of those days when you wonder if you'll ever have one of those days that aren't one of those days?

Want to Know?

Want to know what I’ve learned about marriage?

      1. Don’t eat all the fudge.

      2. Don’t eat all the Nutella.

      3. Don’t use the timed-dry option on the dryer. (I don’t know why either. Just. Don’t.)

And that was just in the last month! 

Yes, marriage can be confusing. Not-so-research-based Google says married people are “annoying, boring, cheat and so on.”  Anecdotally, many people have told me that marriage is a very good thing, however, one should avoid the elaborate wedding part due to its cost, the stress, the we-had-to-invite-them-unwanted-guests, etc. Real science has revealed that there really are many benefits to marriage which reportedly include some pretty important considerations:

1. An increased life-span.

2. Higher earnings throughout one’s lifetime.

3. Generally higher levels of happiness.

If it's really that good though then this seems to beg the obvious question: why do so many marriages end?

I don’t know.

Here’s another thing I don’t know. Dear wife, I DO NOT KNOW your internet passwords nor your usernames that you forgot and even if I laugh about what you think your password is and suggest that your new password should be “confused1” and even if you threaten me and then demand, “HELP ME! I MEAN IT!” I still do not know your computer passwords. But despite this, once we stop laughing and making fun of each other, I help you anyway.

And that is truly something else I’ve learned about marriage: help anyway.