Category: family

My first job

When I was in High School everyone I knew had a job. With rare exceptions, parents of Gen-X kids like myself tended to respond to requests for money with the well-worn phrase, “Get a job.” Now, I can only speak for my little corner of the world, a small Middle-to lower-middle-class town in Eastern Massachusetts. Still, my understanding was that when it came to giving money to your kids it wasn’t about whether it was affordable to the parent. It was about teaching valuable lessons, primarily the value of money and the sense of accomplishment that comes with a paycheck in exchange for honest work.

I, like many of my friends, received an allowance from my parents. It was a mere pittance, enough for a young man to be able to afford to go to the local store and get a candy bar and a soda a few times a week. Looking back, it was laughable how little it was, even when adjusted for today’s value. But it was something. Looking back, I can immediately recognize that one thing a meager allowance taught me was how to budget. As much as I may have learned about budgeting. I can’t say I practiced it very well. I could never live on my allowance.

Fortunately, what I lacked in money management skills, I compensated with a work ethic. I had an amazing role model in my father in many aspects; honesty, accountability, eye contact and a firm handshake, and to always be kind and respectful. But there was one area where Dad simply excelled, to the point in which I was in awe of him, and that was his unfaltering work ethic. One of my earliest memories is of waking up at 4 AM to relieve myself, only to find Dad shaving for work. He left the house at 4:30 every day and in the winter months (he delivered home heating oil) he wouldn’t be home until 6 or 7 most nights. He would come in, exhausted and cold, to a hot dinner waiting for him, the biggest piece of steak or chicken reserved for him. He would shove it down and then begin working on the house, which was under construction from my earliest memory. He would go to bed after me. On the weekends, whatever chores needed to be done he would tackle as soon as he got up. The man didn’t know how to procrastinate.

I did. But I learned how to overcome that because I could not, once I was old enough to be of use, sit and watch the man I admired most in the world, work his ass off to provide for me and not help. So I learned how to cut grass. I worked out by chopping firewood. I shoveled the driveway. I even held the flashlight as he toiled under the hood of his always broken-down truck. Beyond the pleasure of just being around him, holding the flashlight proved to enhance my vocabulary because the expletives FLEW when I didn’t point it in the right area or dropped a wrench.

One day, when I was 11, we were in Sears Roebuck. We were in the tool section and I was waiting for Dad to select another tool that he already had several of. It was his process. A shiny new socket set made him happy and who was I to stand in his way? As we were leaving the store we walked by a beautiful 10-speed bike on display. At the time, the 10-speed bike was all the rage and I wanted one. I showed my Dad the price tag. 94 Dollars. He smiled and motioned for me to go. In the car, he finally spoke.

“I could buy that bike for you, but I don’t want to.” I asked him why.

“Because you’ll like and appreciate it more if you buy it.”

“With what?”, I asked him.

“Your earnings. Go out and knock on some doors. Half of our neighborhood is elderly, I guarantee that they would pay you to mow their lawns and shovel their driveways and whatnot. Buy it with money earned and you will appreciate that bike and take care of it and you’ll have it forever. Not leave it out in the rain like your friends do. It’s different when you earn it, Bill.”

I will never, ever forget that moment.

He offered our lawnmower for me to use, and I would pay the gas. I jumped at the opportunity.

In the 70’s the sight of young people dragging snow shovels down streets in the wake of big storms was a common sight. Kids were industrious, even competitive and fought to earn and keep customers. Some customers were loyal regulars, others would give the work to whoever rang the bell first. I was one of the only kids in my neighborhood that was willing to work. Don’t think I didn’t take advantage of that. I had a slew of loyal neighbors that were waiting to give me money. It wasn’t much money by today’s standards but it was consistent and, as my father had suggested, it felt like a treasure because I had earned it.

Approximately 4 months later my Dad asked me how much money I had. Now, I hadn’t saved everything I had earned. It was a new experience to me to have money so I bought a few things, went out for subs with my friends, etc. But I had saved $80.00. I showed it to him.

“Get your shoes on, and fold that money into a neat roll. We’re going out.”

“Where are we going?”, I asked as I climbed into his truck.

“You’ll see”, he said.

As it turned out, we were going to Sears and Roebuck. I followed him to the Sporting Goods section. He asked the clerk for the assembled bike on display, amazingly it was the same one, and told him that we would be purchasing it. He turned to me with open hand and motioned for me to hand over the money I had in my pocket. The clerk gave him the total and my Dad reached into his pocket and plucked the differential out of a roll of bills. Not wanting to spoil the moment, I didn’t say anything. We walked the bike out of the store, he carefully placed it in the back, and we drove out of the parking lot. Finally, I said,”Thanks Dad, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Sure I did”, he said. I pointed you in the right direction but you did the work. I could have waited until you had all of it but it was never about the money. It’s about appreciating what you have and every time you ride that bike you’ll think about the sweat and back-breaking work you did to buy it.”

I had that bike for 10 years. I sold it in near-perfect condition at a yard sale.

I would go on to earn enough to buy 10 bikes as I became the neighborhood odd jobs kid. Even when other kids caught on to what I was doing, many of my regulars turned them away. They got what I didn’t want. This would continue until I got my first “real job” bagging groceries at a local supermarket.

Interestingly, I now run a small side business that consists mostly of locals who loyally retain my services and feel compelled to recommend me to whoever they meet.

It’s on all of us

We can ride the wave of “renewal”, “rebirth”, and “fresh starts” that the New Year brings for as long as it feels good, but 2024 looks to be more of the same. I know I’m a buzzkill but someone needs to say it and doing so on January 2nd is fair. The hangovers are gone, the celebrations have subsided, many resolutions have already fallen by the roadside and, with the possible exception of writing the wrong year on a few checks, nothing has changed by opening a fresh new calendar. 

Change does not just happen, it is only possible through analysis, facing hard truths, and creating an action plan. It requires sacrifice and work, from all of us.

Here is my master list of resolutions that I wish for all Americans in the coming year. If we do these things, we can make 2024 the year that we turn things around in this country. If we do not, the chaos, uncertainty and needless descent into third world status is virtually inevitable.

Question everything. Ask questions. Take the time to learn for yourself. We all have in our pocket, most likely our hand, access to all of the information ever recorded. That cell phone does more than surf social media, text and take selfies. Anyone can educate themselves, and if nothing else never espouse an opinion or sound bite unless you have asked yourself the critical question, “Is it true?”

Understand that our elected officials are not our leaders. They are our chosen representatives. They may act as if they were coronated and can impose their will over you, but they aren’t. Ask yourself if that person represents you and what you stand for. If they do not, vote them out. Don’t just accept the treachery and betrayal that Washington has routinely subjected you to for decades.

Understand that we are unnecessarily divided. When people come together, the will of the people will prevail. A government that does not have your best interest at heart wants us divided. Recognize that we are being subjected to Propaganda, the role of which is to make one group of people seem less than human. Decency and empathy should tell us that we need to look at what we have in common, not what makes us different. Fire ants and black ants can be in the same jar and coexist. Until someone shakes the jar, then they fight. We’re the ants, ask yourself who is shaking the jar.

Stop thinking that it is someone else’s responsibility to get involved and fix things. It is on all of us to make a change. Think about elections. If you have determined that your candidate cannot win and you decide to not go out and vote, think about how many others (millions?) feel the same way. If all of you turned out to vote, your guy may win. It is up to all of us to cause change. Not just in politics, you can also say hi to a random stranger. You might make their day, or even restore their faith in humanity on the worst day of their lives. A pebble causes a ripple effect, kindness does as well.

Take back our children. We need to stop allowing Social media and television to raise our kids. This also applies to schools. It is not the job of the teacher to raise our children, it is their job to teach them. Insist that schools create and follow age-appropriate curriculums, void of political agendas, and focus on how to think critically, not just how to take a standardized test.

Our society is at a critical point and we have all of the power to save ourselves. I hope that we find that power within us and exercise it with enthusiasm. The United States is a unique experiment that has faith in the people to govern themselves and determine our own future. As citizens of this great experiment, we have lost sight of this. There is no guarantee that it will last forever, it needs to be maintained, even fought for. It is on all of us to do so.

Let’s start acting like everything is on the line. Because it is.

What does it matter,I still learned it

Before I got married I was at a cocktail party rubbing elbows with my fiance’s family. I was talking to a distinguished and clearly educated gent and the subject of the Korean Conflict somehow came up. Now, I did have a fair amount of knowledge on that because, like I said, I later educated myself. But there I stood, a pizza cook on the threshold of a potential conversational Armageddon. But I held in. Fortuitously, he came to an impasse in the discussion and was stuck on the parallel that the US military failed to cross, the one that would have been an act of war. I chimed in,
“That would be the 38th Parallel.” I was then complimented as being a smart young man. What he didn’t know is that I got that from the Rodney Dangerfield comedy Back to School.
I was reminded of that today as I was reading an excerpt from one of my favorite books, A Prayer for Owen Meaney. There is no shortage of reasons why I love the book, I have always been a sucker for a coming-of-age story and it’s a great one. The excerpt that caught my eye was dedicated to the birth of the all-time opiate of the masses, the Television (my apologies to Karl Marx), in which the narrator observes the progression of the power that the television eventually held in his home. He told of how his Grandmother, who was always staunchly opposed to TV finally caved, and how the grandson reluctantly fell under its spell as well. Our hero Owen Meaney, ever the virtuous one, chastised the Grandson for watching TV. At which time the Grandson defended it by offering how many ways that it was educational. Owen promptly dismissed this, his unsolicited opinion was that TV was a slovenly way to educate oneself.

I was amused and a little embarrassed when confronted with this. While I consider myself adequately educated, I have attained a fair amount of passable knowledge, some decent Trivial Pursuit-ish information as well as some solid nuggets of pop culture as well as high society through TV and movies.
Now, of course, TV was not educational in 1958, the time period in discussion. You watched what was available and a lot of it was garbage. It’s not a fair comparison to today’s Cable and streaming options that offer many educational options. Which I take advantage of. Despite even that… some of my greatest stories that deal with gaining “knowledge” through unlikely and slovenly sources occurred many years ago.

Most of my knowledge of Opera, Classical Music, American society during the Great Depression, Prohibition, wartime, etc., comes exclusively from Bugs Bunny cartoons. That’s right. “Kill the Wabbit” taught me about Opera.
In addition, most of my understanding of politics I can directly attribute to Berkeley Breathed and Gary Trudeau, of Bloom County and Doonesbury fame, respectively. As a skirt-chasing teenager (and young adult and well, forever) dedicated to doing the bare minimum, it was Bloom County and Doonesbury that piqued my interest in the news of the day as they lampooned politics and known as well as not-so-well-known cultural figures. It was through Bloom County and Doonesbury that I learned of the colorful figures and their stories that dominated the era such as Anita Bryant and her Anti-gay activism, the anti-feminist Phyllis Schlafly, the disappearance of known American atheist Madalyn Murray-O’Hair, the Televangelist scandals, the Contras and Sandanistas, the Star Wars antics of the Reagan era, I could go on but I won’t. Suffice it to say that otherwise boring (to me) subject matter and events were portrayed comically way or ironically and consequently raised my interest. An interest in being current and informed on the matters of the world, and in being able to take a humorous, even absurdist interpretation. In the case of Bloom County, the political landscape was portrayed often through Children and anthropomorphized naive but politically charged meadow animals. Think of a Hedgehog, a rabbit, and a Penguin having a caucus to nominate a dead cat for President.
That shit was funny!
And it had the right effect on me, it got me interested. Which fortunately led to a lot of self-education of the shit that I should have learned in High School.

Snob appeal, slob appeal. Whatever. Learning can come from many sources, highbrow and otherwise. What matters is that I learned something, and I received the added bonus of getting a good laugh in the process.

“Slovenly” Perhaps. Effective? Absolutely.

Negative? Not me

Every once in a while someone will say something about you that you will ponder, and once adequately pondered, say out loud “That is so NOT me!”

I’ve been collaborating on a podcast with my good friend and roommate Steve. It is in the early stages of development; in order to have a successful podcast you need to be known, and the only way to get known is to create buzz for yourself by advertising, promoting, and telling anyone and everyone that you are doing a podcast and would you listen? This works to a degree, but in order to get the more sophisticated podcast listener you must have a body of work. For the sake of this conversation, let’s say that 50 episodes is a good body of work. Still, there are many success stories out there that made thousands before they made it.

The idea for our podcast came from the many spirited conversations that Steve and I used to have in which we either agreed or were on opposite sides of an issue or an idea. We embraced our differences and it wasn’t long before the idea of a podcast was offered up. So we started it. And, due modesty aside, I think we have an interesting, stimulating, accessible and intelligent podcast. Upon reaching 50 episodes, we agreed that we were onto something good and were ready to promote it. We had a good format, good ideas, and limited but positive feedback. We interviewed Steve’s childhood friend and published author Mark Michalisin with the agreement that we would promote that particular episode as our coming out and we would all share it to all of our social media. As hoped, it generated interest, and while it wasn’t enough to get us established, our friends and family gave us solid reviews and favorable input. Not everyone loved it, but respected it. We are frequently very candid on controversial subjects, we lean politically to the right but are very fair and balanced and always open to an opposing voice and we had a few. Of the 2 of us, I got the only negative review. One of Steve’s friends said that I was very negative and didn’t seem like a nice person. In particular, I indulged in some name-calling. I thought they were clever mockeries of truly despicable people, but her assessment of the name-calling was fair and I rolled with it.

To speak in a public forum one must be prepared to receive criticism, differing viewpoints, and in some cases harsh rebukes. We will never please everybody, nor do we want to. So I didn’t mind the feedback. I knew that she didn’t watch the entire episode, only a clip that we generated. Had she watched the whole thing, she probably would not have felt that way. But again, I took it in stride.

The experience was good for me. I believe deep down that we all have a perception of ourselves with respect to how we present to other people. I am hyper-aware that many, (most?) people think they project differently than they actually do. Me? I know exactly how I present. And to my critic’s point, I can come off very contrary to my true self. I get carried away and I am passionate. My emotions are strong and I feel things intensely. I can be harsh. I can be relentless. I often take a stand. I can even be a bit self-righteous if I truly believe in something. My fatal flaw is that I will go to great lengths to make a joke. But I am not negative. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I am known among a very large circle of family, friends, and acquaintances to be an eternal optimist.

I was sick for a very long time. I struggled with Kidney disease for most of my adult life. Although the disease didn’t significantly affect my ability to function normally until my late 40’s, at which time I became unable to hide, and this is important to understand, the severity of my illness from friends and family anymore. I didn’t want to bother anyone or make them worry. I just rolled along. I have never understood why people found that so inspirational but they did. I am of the belief that we really only have 2 choices, as Andy Dufresne famously stated in Shawshank, “you either get busy living or get busy dying”. Before I saw that movie, I felt that way. What am I supposed to do? Curl up in a ball and die? By the sheer virtue of not dying I survived. Not to inspire anyone, not to look like a hero, but to do what we all do…get through each day and the new challenges they bring. I suppose I did it in such a way that people deemed me an optimist, but what else is there to do? We all have a lot in life and we need to make the most of it.

Beyond my optimism, I would point to my sense of Gratitude that serves me the best. I recognize that I have been given blessings, more than I deserve that I need to be grateful for. I can honestly say that a Higher Power may be the reason I am here to tell this story because I have been too close to death too many times to be a coincidence. It causes me to look at life in a different light than most people, an attitude of gratitude creates a domino effect of kindness, generosity and genuine appreciation. THAT is inspirational because people need that nowadays.

And it is in no way NEGATIVE.

Settling in

I’m all moved into the new digs. I’m not quite prepared to say that I have started a new life but it’s certainly a nice change of pace. I recognize a twinge of uncertainty within but I know myself, that’s normal. I second-guess everything so I’m not going to let my anxiety get the best of me. This could be a good move for me and it will take time to know if it’s the right move. Change is hard, especially for me. It’s also a known fact that there’s give and take, pluses and minuses in everything. At the end of the day, I will either be able to reconcile them or not.

I’m giving up a few things. For starters, I lived with my mother in her lovely home. Quiet, surrounded by woods, clean air to breathe, and access to a lake. The people in town are friendly and I am well known and respected in the community.
I now live in a loft of a large apartment in a busy area. While I have full use of the entire place, it doesn’t feel like mine so it will take time, if ever, to feel comfortable.
I will miss my mother and it troubles me that she is having difficulty understanding, now that I am healthy again, I don’t want to be a guy who lives with his mother. I’ll visit her often, but it’s not enough for her.
While the people in my previous town were friendly, I was very far (2 hours) from my family and friends. Now I am within 30 minutes of everyone in my life. Not to mention that I am an active Mason at heart and it has pained me for the last 5 years that I was forced to miss a great deal of it because of my distance.

I think overall it will be a good move. I really like my roommate and any growing pains will resolve themselves I’m sure. The dating scene is very active here and I am already meeting people. I tentatively have a job detailing cars, which is what I did up North. The only, if any, drawback to that is that I hope I am not forced to give up my very solid book of business in my previous town. Not only do I make a good living from them, my clients are very nice and I consider many of them friends. And oddly, despite detailing not being an essential service, my clients value my services and need me.

I didn’t cover everything but I’m sure I will be exploring this more as I continue to acclimate. For now I just want to get acclimated and let things just happen.

Growing pains

It’s been a busy few weeks as I have been winding down my detail business up North and making my move to my new digs in Southern NH. It has been difficult on both fronts. My customers continue to offer me business despite my stated completion date for the season of 10/31. I’m torn between shutting it down and taking the opportunity to make money. I kike money and I think anyone in my position would do the same. As for how my living situation fits into this, I have yet to spend more than a couple of weekends at my new place because I need to drive back up for jobs during the week. It’s not a big deal other than not being able to settle into my new residence. I’m just anxious to start a new chapter.

I suppose that my work commitments aren’t the only obstacle to my moving. I am becoming bittersweet about moving away from Mom. She has been making comments lately, despite initially being supportive of my move, that suggest that she is unhappy about my leaving. This is problematic, I based my decision heavily on her opinion. I will miss her as well, I have told her this repeatedly. I love her with all my heart and she is my best friend. But I have been living with her for 6 years. Ever since I fell ill in 2017. Now that I am well again, I want to rejoin the ranks of the adult, which includes having your own place. Or in my case, sharing an apartment with a roommate. Anything but living with your mother. I was hoping for a smoother, happier transition.

As for the rest of the transition, I like my new space. It is sparsely but tastefully decorated to my taste. My roommate, who is one of my dearest friends, gives me plenty of space. We hang out quite a bit but also have plenty of our own space. Another very important aspect of the move is that I am so much closer to family and friends. I have already taken advantage of the close proximity to both and I feel really good about it. This morning I went to a function with friends at the lodge and then had lunch with my daughter and I only did an hour of driving, not 4!

Growing pains are necessary and tend to wear off sooner than later.

Change is in the air

I love Autumn. Please don’t tell “Summer Me”, I don’t want any hurt feelings. Summer is my favorite season because I love long days, the feeling of the Sun beating down on me, and all of the activities that we cram into a very short season. I romanticize the glory of Summer all winter long because I certifiably hate winter. It’s not so much the cold, but instead the short days and grey skies. SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) is a real thing. But after Summer and before the dreaded Winter is Fall. And I love it, despite what comes after it.

About mid-August each year I begin looking forward to Fall weather. The cooler air is a nice break (my asthma welcomes it), a whole new set of outdoor activities awaits, the bugs are gone, and, at least in New England, the scenery is magnificent. Bring on the Fairs, cider, pumpkins, and sweatshirt weather.

This fall will be special for me for 2 reasons.
First, I can coast a bit after a very busy, not-very-fun Summer. I dedicated this summer to working. I really dove into promoting my side hustle of cleaning cars and also worked a part-time job. I had a very successful summer. For a person with my health history, I really pushed myself. I did well with it, I am much healthier as a result. I am also much better off financially.
Additionally, and most exciting, there are some significant changes in the coming weeks. Due to my revived health and improved finances, I am finally moving out of Mom’s house.

Moving away from Mom is bittersweet. We get along great and she is sad to see me go, but it’s time. Whether it is valid or not, I cannot get past the notion that a grown-ass man shouldn’t be living with Mom. There are those that disagree but I can’t get past it. I need to feel like I’m on my own to a degree. Moving in with my good friend and podcast partner Steve will benefit me. We’re very close friends and it should be productive as well as fun.
Mom will be fine. I’m only doing this because she spends half of her time in Florida now. She doesn’t need me as much and I hate being alone when she’s gone. Also, I’m only 2 hours away.

I’m on the precipice of getting my life back. Seeing my friends and family more often (I have no friends where I am, it’s a much older community). Also, my beloved Masonic circle is based where I am moving and after almost a year away from it, I am eager to dive back in.

Here’s to change. The changing of the seasons and the changes in my life. After years of setbacks and lateral moves, I am finally moving forward.

comparisons

In reviewing my last post I hit upon something that I would like to elaborate on.
“Compared to most people my age, (can I say this with certainty?) I am way beneath the expectations of my years financially and emotionally.”

Says who?

I always do that. I always compare myself to other people. It’s a natural result of my people-watching. Actually, what I do is more than just people-watching. I study people, not with the trained, methodical eye of a sociologist, but instead with a preoccupation and fascination with people and their behavior. I don’t just observe, I speculate and project, insinuate, and envision what makes people tick. I missed my calling in life not pursuing the social sciences in college.

My people-watching evolved from a passing fancy into a pastime. When I was at my lowest it was merely voyeurism. At my lowest, I felt so worthless that almost every subject of my silent study appeared to me as superior to me. Going out was painful. Happy families, couples, and groups of friends enjoying each other’s company just exacerbated my loneliness and isolation. Indulging in Social media was a form of torment. Even when factoring in that most Social media presence is exaggerated or an outright bullshit version of one’s life, I still envied those who were doing better than me. Which, for the sake of this entry was fucking everyone.

Then I asked myself, what am I envious of? Wealth? Career success? Happiness? No, I don’t begrudge others having it. But when I see things that are symbolic of my own benchmark of where and what I think I should be at this point in my life, and I’m not there, I immediately focus immediately on every fuck-up to my name that has put me where I am today. And it triggers endless self-flagellation and pointless obsession over things I cannot change.

Fortunately, I have obtained a grip on it. I have grown to be very self-aware and accountable. Self-awareness has enabled me to take a hard look and assess where I need work. Accountability has taught me to own the hard truths that I have come to.

Here’s one. Yes, illness took a lot from me. But it isn’t the only reason I am where I am. I am a product of my choices. I married the wrong woman, so the happiness of a happy marriage has eluded me. I may not ever get (the way it’s going now) the chance at relationship happiness ever again.

It is not my place to want what others have. It is my place, and responsibility to reconcile what I have and make peace with my station in life.

Forward progress

Things always work out for me. Inexplicably at times. This is not to say that I am in a particularly wonderful place right now. Compared to most people my age, (can I say this with certainty?) I am way beneath the expectations of my years financially and emotionally. I am playing a frenetic game of catch-up in both arenas. My success is questionable.
But I am moving forward.

I’m always moving forward. It is what makes me who I am. When they finally bury me, friends and family will universally declare that I never gave up. This is not braggadocious, it is fact. See, everyone loves to call people fighters, survivors, etc. It is well-intentioned enough, but it doesn’t require toughness to merely stay alive. Survival is the mere act of not dying. It is strength of spirit that determines whether you are a quitter or not. To me, quitting is accepting your station in life and not trying to move forward and overcome it. Strength of spirit allows you to say no to victimhood. To avoid asking “why me?” and start asking “Why not me?”. Strength of spirit allows you to pick yourself up and try again. Strength of spirit is all that I have.
Well, to be fair I have also been blessed with incredible luck.

It’s odd. Most people wouldn’t consider my litany of health problems, which have been the source of most of my problems, lucky. But the evidence is in. I was lucky enough to get two kidney transplants. The odds of finding a compatible second donor were staggeringly not in my favor. But it happened. Less important but significant, I fell into a situation that resulted in my dream job. Sure, illness took it away from me but I still lived it. And that’s better than not having it. And despite a miserable marriage, I lucked out with 4 amazing human beings for children.

As a person who believes that life is not what happens, but how you react to it, the lucky part is that I learned gratitude, perspective, humility, faith and self-awareness. I have learned to recognize lessons in adversity ( and in my own stupidity). In addition, I have learned that no matter how bad things get, one day I will wake up and realize that they somehow got better.

I don’t know when it happened, but in the last couple of weeks I have been lucky enough to recognize how good my life really is.

The relationships, the money, all of the things that I find myself worrying about…that stuff will all work out. I always land on my feet.

purpose

I need to find something gratifying to do with my life.

Despite some recent emotional ups and downs I must concede that my life is going fairly well right now. My health is excellent, which is paramount to all else. My numbers are perfect, my Doctors are nothing less than thrilled with the performance of the new kidney.
I have been working hard all summer. This is satisfying on more than one level; I am pleased that my body had risen to the task of long days and physical exertion. 3 years ago I was nowhere near able to do what I have been doing this year. I really feel great.
Additionally, I have really built up my savings. While I am nowhere near financially secure, I was destitute not terribly long ago.
Because of my financial improvement, I am about to get a very large monkey off of my back. I am moving out of mom’s house. This is bittersweet because I really like it here. It is a nice place. I’m surrounded by beautiful country, the people are nice, and my mother and I really get along well. Still, I have yet to embrace the notion of a man my age living with his mother. It’s something I can’t get past.

I am moving in with a friend next month. He’s a good friend. He welcomed me into his home when it all fell apart in 2016. I had to move when I got real sick but he has welcomed me to return. He is being very fair with the rent as a favor to me. He is looking forward to the company as well. We are doing a podcast together as well as tossing around some other ventures and getting in the same room should yield some positive results. The biggest bonus, the driving force behind my wanting to move is that I will be closer to my children, friends and my Masonic community.

Yes, all is going well. I have put the desire for a companion on the back burner for now and it feels like the right decision. I have only one thing left to feel semi-complete. I need to find something that is gratifying to the soul. When I promised the Universe that I would give back as often and as generously as I could in exchange for the gift of another chance I meant it. When I was working with addiction clients I was living up to it. Unfortunately, I had to stop that. Now I need to find something else. Either as a part-time position or as a volunteer.

I am only happy when I feel I am living a life of purpose.