Checkmate

Sometime in the last few months, I sent a letter to a close friend and confidant that confided my overwhelming desire to seize another big "checkmate" moment. I have been thinking about this for years, since I finished school. As I make the quick and steady approach to my 30th birthday, I force myself to reflect on my 20s. What did I accomplish, how, why, and how can I improve?

The fact is that I, regretfully, lost sight of the successes and treasured moments I enjoyed during my twenties. My focus is always on the next big thing. Every triumph leads to a new plan; every new plan to a new execution; every completed execution to a new stride; and then the cycle repeats.

Is this a function of the society in which we live? How often do people really sit back, drop anchor, and allow the moment to envelop them? I have started to believe that the effects of this constant forward-movement are more detrimental to our long term happiness than we are willing to acknowledge. The sweet taste of success should not be fleeting at all. It should be savored time and time again. I'm all about living in the moment, and moving forward with the next big dream; but without the critical reflection on those days when we awoke with the unmistakable "Checkmate!" feeling, I don't think we really position ourselves to derive our most potent energy for the purest source: our own souls. Instead, we are constantly shifting in our spiritual chairs, watching and waiting, wondering and planning, ready to pounce.

How long can we run straight into the flames at a million miles an hour before we experience the defeat of exhaustion? The paramount reflection here is that there truly is a time for everything, and a balance to every success. The planning and watching are constant, but these are also moments where resting and rejuvenating really matter. Why not truly allow yourself to clasp your hands behind your head,put your feet up on the table, and say to yourself, "I won"? We force ourselves to physically do this all the time. Why is it so easy to cast our spiritual well-being aside, under the guise of always being ready for the next big thing? You can't be ready for the next big gig if you have exhausted your ability to discern it. And certainly, if you are lucky enough to seize it, you are setting yourself up to be robbed of its beauty.

Our efforts were rewarded and we have positioned ourselves to seize countless "checkmate" moments, if we are wise enough to see the opportunities as they present themselves. For me, my goals are set for the next decade and my energy is replenished. I'm watching, waiting, and listening for my cue. Now, I think the most advantageous thing to do is to lay out in the sun, drink a beer, and take a deep breath. "Go time" could be any minute.

Little Ava

Ever since I played my guitar and sang for the kids at Naomi’s school, I’ve been treated like some sort of celebrity. They always say “Hello!” to me when I pick her up, and typically I am wowed with story after story of whatever happens to occupy their minds at the moment I arrive.

Yesterday, I was early and decided to enjoy the sunshine with all 40+ children as they played on the playground. I did my normal chitchat with the teachers and got up to speed on Naomi’s goings on (FYI: everyone loves her and she is never picked on).

Little Ava is a kindergartner with HUGE glasses. She adores Naomi and is always following her around. After the girls spent a good while showing me all the cool stuff they could do on the slide, Ava came over and said, “Naomi’s Mommy, you’re beautiful.” I responded, “You’re beautiful, too.” She launched right in to a story about her glasses and how she needs them because her eyes cross sometimes. Naomi interrupted the story and told me, in front of Ava, that the kids make fun of Ava’s glasses.

Dagger…straight through my heart.

I suddenly remembered every single time I ate lunch alone, played outside alone, and had kids laugh at me and ridicule me.

“I had glasses, too. I got them when I was eight and wore them until I was 26.”

Ava’s eyes got wide. “You did?”

“Yep. And mean kids didn’t like my glasses either.”

“They didn’t?”

“Nope. And trust me, sweetheart, your glasses show off your pretty eyes.”

She gave me a big smile and took off.

I should have become a school teacher.

For the Girls, Part 1

Since I originally started this blog with the thought that someday my girls would read it, and realize that I thought about things other than soccer schedules and nutrition values, I figure I’d better post something specifically for them. I have been thinking about this for a few months now and things are finally coming together in a way that I am fairly certain I can communicate them reasonably.

This part of my thought process refers directly to interpersonal relationships:

1.     Be succinct, always. There are certain circumstances where what you need to say will take more than five minutes to convey, but generally speaking, most of your daily thoughts and instructions can be effectively communicated in less than five minutes (sometimes, in less than five sentences). If it takes longer than five minutes, you’d better be the President.

2.     Consider your words carefully. Please, I implore you, do not grow up and become one of the millions who, without a thought, throw words and phrases into the atmosphere that have no significance or meaning. Stop….Think….Consider….then speak.

3.     There are many ways to measure your worth. Please consider one of the most important measurements to be how often you have a positive effect on the lives of others. How often do people seek your advice? How often are you their sounding board? How often do you calm a storm simply by being in the room? Do you play a critical role in the lives of the people you care about? Are you anyone’s hero?

Finally:

4.     Challenge your status quo. You can always be more remarkable, more successful, more interesting, and more challenged in your life. By challenging your status quo, you ensure that YOU are the person who plays the most critical role in your own sense of joy and fulfillment. Plus that, it makes you that much more valuable to the people around you.  

In the interest of keeping this concise, that’s all for now.

Anita Marie

Typically, I compartmentalize things very well; even grief. Especially grief. But, not this time. This time, it’s seeping through the cracks and filling all the pockets of my brain. It has consumed my every thought and has successfully thwarted my many attempts to be physically productive. The void her death has left is larger than I imagined it could have been. It’s a dark and painful void, yet I continue to wander around it; ask it questions, and wait for answers. My logical mind knows that these answers will never be found, yet I reach back into the void and continue to seek them. During the day, I carefully wander the void, looking at memories and asking questions. While I sleep, when I actually sleep, I am overcome by it and my nightmares swallow me whole.

How could she have done this? How could she not know what would happen to the world if she left it? What could we have done to save her?

Since she left, I have felt completely out of my body, like I am living in someone else’s nightmare, watching the torment. As each day passed, I denied that it was MY family that had been thrust into this hell. In the days after her death, I couldn’t collect my thoughts and I was weakened beyond anything I recognized as myself. Again, I wasn’t me…I’ve never been that weak. I remember certain moments that confirmed my weakness and supported my mind’s defense mechanism that was telling me this wasn’t my life.

The day after I found out, a friend told me to go running. I did as I was told. What else could I do? I didn’t know how to function in this other world.

The night before I flew down to say “goodbye,” I stood there in my closet, holding up two dresses. Which one was I supposed to wear? I couldn’t pick one because I couldn’t believe I would be wearing it to her funeral.

When I first saw her, all I could do was hold her hand, fix her hair, and try to make sense of everything. It still wasn’t real.

When they lowered her casket, I was sure the reality would come crashing down on me. She was gone. We buried her. I watched. Still in my mind, I couldn’t believe it.

When I watched the video of the eulogy I gave, I was overwhelmed. Both the truth of the situation and the out of body sensation I had been experiencing collided. I was watching myself speak, and seeing the anguish I felt. I’d never actually seen myself experience such a catastrophe. But there I was, standing just above her casket, begging 400 teenagers not to forget her, and not to give up on themselves. This aftermath, this agony, was mine. The collision that occurred during those moments shattered the protection my mind had created. All that’s left is devastation.

I need to remember how to compartmentalize. I need to tuck her away into the secret part of my heart, and only visit it when I can smile at the memory of her face, and at the fact that she is, apparently, no longer suffering.

The reality is settling in more and more these days, and, just as I begin to accept it, my sorrow turns to rage.

Leadership and Love

The bottom line is that if you aren’t giving it everything you’ve got, and then some, you have been, or will be, upstaged. It happens in friendships, romantic interests, sports, our jobs, and in relationships with your own family.

There’s love, and then there’s LOVE. I believe that “love” can be qualified, that there are levels and compartments that are directly related to our abilities to actually feel love, as well as our abilities to show it. I know there are three types of love, and they are well-defined. I am thinking about things more basically, however.

 I have encountered people who have been so emotionally damaged that their abilities to feel and show love are stunted beyond what I can understand. Then there are the others whose emotions and passions run so deep and so intense that their abilities to feel and show love can make you feel like you are actually sitting on top of the world, enjoying a high that many seldom feel throughout an entire lifetime.

To break down how it feels:

A relationship with someone who is emotionally incapable of offering the kind of love that is all-enveloping: it feels empty, always lacking in some intangible component that make the recipient feel wholly accepted, desired, appreciated, and adored. If it involves a romantic interest, the lack of love feels like a black hole. It leaves people feeling stunted and powerless; just sitting and staring, and waiting. I don’t know what they wait for, but they are stuck in that perpetual state of longing. Their storehouse is not full…not even close. With family, a lack of love breeds contempt, feelings of inadequacy and ineptness, self-consciousness, and overall lack of belonging. Both situations are dangerous and both lead to one disaster or another. I have felt, and do feel, this emptiness in some of my relationships. The heartache it causes can be overwhelming and maddening.

On the other side of the coin, there is the kind of love is the kind that makes us all feel equipped to face the world. We have been armored with the most resistant armor available to humans: it’s empowering, intoxicating, joyous, intense, passionate, and invigorating. These relationships enable us to see our strengths, face our weaknesses, and engage in the sweetest moments of our dreams. They set us forth running at full speed to develop the friendship/romantic interest/familial relationship further and further, until we reach a level of love and trust that is beyond what we thought we were ever capable of feeling. The bonds last an entire lifetime, giving us the comfort of knowing that the other person is always there, regardless of geographical distance. I feel this love from only a handful of people in my life. These people have succeeded in upstaging every other individual I encounter. In fact, no one will ever measure up.

I consider the great leaders in history, and all the things that made them “Great Leaders.” I wonder if the ability to love with intensity was a component of who they were. I don’t think people who lack this ability can actually be great leaders or world changers. How can you possibly get people to follow you and believe in you if you are incapable of connecting with them? Is it the ethereal gift of connection that sets a foundation for our leaders? If we investigate the building blocks of leadership, is the ability to truly love at the center of the fundamentals? Would it not be right there with passion, vision, and determination? Can a true leader inspire hope if he/she is incapable of impassioned love?

I ask myself what kind of love people feel from me. Is it empowering? Enveloping? Comfortable? Does it leave them feeling prepared to move forward, to weather storms, to achieve great things?

Or am I cold and distant, or unavailable? What will my girls say about me? Will they tell people that I taught them what love looks and feels like? That, regardless of where I was, my expression of love towards them was full and dynamic? What would my friends say? Do I possess the ability to love so deeply, that my foundations of passion, determination, and vision could lead the nations?

Do you?

 

Insiders

How should I put it?

You’ve been upstaged. You are no longer relevant. You’ve fallen short; I am uninterested in you; We are finished; You feel toxic to me.

Probably the most genuine way for me to say it would be, “I no longer care, or want to care, about you.”

I find that this little sentiment started becoming a regular feeling beginning in my mid-twenties. Day in and day out, I was realizing that people who I had cared for very deeply were quickly falling into the darkened corners of my mind, only to be accessed when I had nothing more important to think about. I thought it was a phase that could be attributed to the crushing amount of pressure I was under at the time. But here I am, years later, still ready to say “goodbye” to all these previous objects of my affection.

I crave silence. Maybe I want to be completely enveloped in my own loneliness. Somehow I’ve convinced myself that this loneliness is healthy. It has become my most familiar status, and one that I cling to more than I ever imagined I would. Maybe it’s something different than that. At one time, I suspected a quarter life crisis. I even speculated that, as the result of me getting older and experiencing too many life changes in such a short amount of time, my mind had somehow morphed and I didn’t recognize myself anymore. As of today, I think it’s a conglomeration of both of these things.

Before now, I expressed love so freely. I felt it freely. Between my late teens and early twenties, I found the perfect stride of someone who was comfortable. The change didn’t take place suddenly; however, I noticed it suddenly. In this moment, I want to slink away into a safe corner where I don’t have to speak. The only people in this corner would be those who are content to sit there in my silence because they understand it. I can count them on one hand. When they reach out to me, I want to reach back. I always want them close as I wrap myself in a perpetual state of gloom. When they are near, I can overcome it. I am comfortable and eager to engage. They bring out the best in me and their presence encourages me to fight, create, grow, and succeed.  

I’d like to think everyone feels this way. We all have our inner circles, and everyone else sits on the periphery of our lives. These inner circles take years to carefully construct, and there is no heartache like the one felt when we are betrayed by one of the treasured members. The outsiders just create noise. They are commercials or pre-games in our lives, but never the main attractions.

And what about the insiders who, over time, become the monotonous noise we try so eagerly to avoid? It’s a painful goodbye. 

Dare to Achieve

 Years ago, I purchased a journal as a gift for someone. The front of the journal displayed Thoreau’s famous quote, “Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you have imagined.” This quote, I can only assume, is a staple mantra in the lives of thousands of Americans. It represents the American mindset, which is taught to us as children, and reinforced throughout our lives. It captures our values, our deepest desires, and the very foundations of our country (see United States Declaration of Independence). As I look around, I have to wonder how many people actually do “go confidently in the direction” of any one of their dreams. My heart mourns when I consider the reality that it’s not as many people as I hoped.  

At what point in adulthood do we allow guilt, fear, and obligation to interfere with our deepest desires? The foremost of these in my mind is fear. When I think about this restrictive kind of fear, I think about the people I see who settle because they are too afraid to put their lives on the line to get what they want. This crippling fear allows them to make excuses for why they won’t take a sprinting, flying leap into the fire of their deepest desires; whether it be professionally, spiritually, or even in terms of their relationships with family and friends. I know this fear and I taste it on the daily. I think the only way to overcome it is to acknowledge the desire(s), makes the plan(s), and run a million miles an hour. The key with the running is to never look to either side of you. The fear monsters are keeping up.

I understand that it gets much more complicated than all that. Although fear is an underlying issue in many of our roadblocks to living the life we’ve imagined, but what about guilt? Is it possible that guilt may be an even worse blockade? When I think about guilt, I think the following:

“I hate this job, but it supports my lifestyle.”

“I want to learn to be a photographer, but that will take time away from my children.”

“I’ve always wanted to travel to the Grand Canyon, but I can’t take time off work or away from my responsibilities.” Guilt leads to excuses. As my father always said, at the end of the day, “excuses are just lies.” Maybe the real issue with guilt is that you just don’t want it badly enough. And…

I haven’t forgotten sheer laziness in this equation. I’m not really speaking to that situation though. We all know why some people never achieve anything in life. They don’t want to work. I’m talking more about the people who allow inhibitions to swallow them whole, until they ultimately forget who they were to begin with.

People, we live only once. This life was a gift. Being born Americans was a gift. Dreaming is a gift. Squandering these gifts leaves nothing but a belly of regret and, more than likely, a pit of bitterness as we enter the later stages of our lives.  

Those who we admire the most have a few common threads among them: not only did they dare to dream, they also dared to achieve. These “success stories” put it all on the line and took one methodical step after another to get exactly what they wanted in life. They overcame fear, guilt, failure after failure, and managed obligations with desires to achieve the greatest goals of their lives. We look at them with admiration, appreciation, and maybe a little bit of jealousy. They did it. They got it. No shortcuts and no excuses.  

What is it that you really want? What do you think about in your silent moments? What do you dare to dream about as you fall asleep at night? If you are lacking in these things, what do you need to do to make them yours? There are no excuses. There is only planning and hard work. It’s worth it though. Imagine your last moments on this earth. What will you be thinking? I sure as hell hope it’s something along the lines of, “That was awesome!”