Category: relationships

Lessons from Ted Lasso: Inspiring Takeaways for Life

I watch too much TV. I admit it. But I try to watch something that has some redeeming value. If I watch a movie, I choose something that will teach me something new. It should alter my perspective or recharge my humanity. There has to be a takeaway. The same with shows. Recently I broke down and subscribed to Apple TV. They have a show that I had seen one episode of, and I had to see more. I’m so glad I did.
Ted Lasso has left me with takeaways I haven’t even identified yet.

Imagine Major League, the Movie (1986), but set in the world of English soccer. A team owner is motivated to destroy her Football team to get back at her ex. She hires an unknown, presumably inept, coach from Kansas for her team. She wasn’t counting on Ted Lasso being the ultimate underdog. Oh, Hell, to do it justice, Ted Lasso is so much more than that, he is an Everyman. After 3 seasons, I concluded that I had seen one of the best TV shows ever made.

If you haven’t surmised as such, I love his character. He is everything I want to be. I would like to say that he and I are on the same level, but I can only aspire.

When you first meet Ted, you see an extremely likable, helpful, and disarmingly gregarious man. His mother jokes in season 3 that when Ted was born, he promptly asked the doctor if he needed anything.
He is a coach who knows nothing about Football (Soccer). He is hokey, with the gift of extreme gab, and he is top-tier punny. He adapts to what he doesn’t know and makes the best of what skills he has as he learns. He is greeted with scorn by fans. He is underestimated (but liked) by his players and peers. He is continually sabotaged by the team owner in the interest of tanking her team. Betrayed time and time again, he remains unflappable and unfazed.
As you get to know Ted, you discover more about him. Underneath the affable, unpretentious coach, he is more confident than he lets on. He is more capable than given credit for. He is also amazingly intuitive. What we are intrigued to learn is that Ted Lasso is also broken. Your admiration for him as a man morphs into sympathy as details of the past that made him are revealed. He is plagued with panic attacks that threaten his new job and his hard-earned status and respect.
Ted is also broken.

I won’t give it all away. Watch it to learn the rest. This is not about the show. It is about the man. I believe I stated it already, Ted is the man that I strive to be. Ted Lasso thinks before he speaks. He chooses acceptance over anger. He forgives when any man would condemn and reject. He chooses the high road when almost nobody else would. His ego never gets in the way, his heart leads instead. He is the man I want to be.

Call me Ted. Give me the biggest compliment ever. Not yet, I’m not there. But I will be. I’m not to be underestimated either.

Cherishing Moments: A Father’s Reflection on Parenting

A regular Thursday turned into a fond memory. Thursday was a fairly typical day for me. Out of the house early to drive up to Mom’s house to do a Detail. I had a busy day ahead of me but if all went according to schedule it would be fine. I would be at my Ear Doctor’s at 9 when they opened. I would start work on my detail by 10. On the way back, I would stop at my son Ryan’s house to pick up some weed. Then I would go home to shower and head out to a Masonic event. The day went smoothly and I was able to pull into Ryan’s driveway at 4. It was close but I would make it.

The weed was just an excuse to see him. I really look for any reason to get together with him. We have been making time for each other. Lately, the plan is to have a movie night with a buzz at least once a month. Neither of us smokes a lot, but we have had some amazing conversations when we do. He calls it the “Stoned unfiltered Dad talks”. I won’t lie, I love that.

On this Thursday afternoon, his temporary roommate was there as well. Hunter has been his friend since the age of 10. He is like a third son to me. He’s going through some stuff right now and Ryan is giving him a hand up by letting him stay. As conversation freely flowed, the likelihood of rolling a fat one was inevitable.
So we did.
And another amazing conversation began.

We spent some time reminiscing about the old days with them. Ryan and Hunter were inseparable. They spent a great deal of time at our house. Hunter’s home life was less than happy. We had some big laughs at some recollections. The vibe in the room was ripe for real connection. At some point, Hunter pulled out his phone and began trying to show Ryan some videos he found amusing. Ryan repeatedly asked him to put it away. Finally,he said, “Dude, put the phone away. We can watch videos any time. My Dad is here and I want to hear him talk”.
I was floored. Flattered. Impressed. Happy. Gratified. It pleased me to no end that my son recognized the value of moments.

Having been given the floor, I had no intention of talking for the sake of talking. It was an invitation to speak freely and on the level. I have never been a big fan of wearing the “Dad Hat”. I raised my children largely by trying to be a tuned-in, relatable parent. I built relationships with my children so they could reach out to me for support. I wanted to ensure they received encouragement, not reprimands and stale advice. I wasn’t a lax friend or failed role model; I was approachable.
It was in that moment that I decided to feel out what my parental legacy really was. For the sake of context, I need to say that I carry much uncertainty about my parenting. I have been validated by how wonderful all four have turned out. But I also believe that it could have happened despite me. It happens.
So I asked them something I’ve always wanted to ask, Was I the Cool Dad?

My son Derek had already suggested that to me. He and I got along famously. My relationship with Ryan was more complicated. We failed for the longest time to really connect. He would say he was just finding his way. However, I felt that I didn’t have a relationship with him. And that absolutely killed me. We eventually turned a corner and things became great between us. But the off years really dug at me.
So, the resounding “Yes” at the question warmed my heart. Ryan revealed many fond memories of our times together. Ones that I had forgotten about because of my tendency to dwell on the worst moments. Hunter further confirmed that all dads were not like me in his friend circle. I was further pleased at the mentions in which Ryan witnessed what he called my “Masonic moments.” For the sake of this conversation, Masonic moments were those times that we were together where an opportunity to do something good arose and I acted on it. He would later become a Mason himself, to my great joy.

It was such an amazing moment. It was the conversation I had always hoped for with my adult children. All of those times that I sat, head in hands, fretting about my parental mistakes. Hoping and praying that I wouldn’t be the “Holiday” Dad that only gets an invite on the big 3 Holidays. That my children would absorb the good things I tried to do and forgive the bad times.
It would appear that I have accomplished this. I am grateful for this. It really is all I ever wanted, to be valued by my Children.

At 5 o’clock I decided that I would miss the function that I had planned on attending. I was in the middle of a moment, a moment that needed to fade on its own volition. I am so thrilled that my son has learned the importance of turning off a video and just be in the moment.

Embracing Faith: A Journey from Doubt to Strength

I’ve battled my anti-religion demons long enough. I am a believer, and it’s time to walk the path that has been cleared for me. I have embraced righteousness in all walks of life but one, as a man of faith. Sure, I walk proudly, but I am secretly insecure. I have love in my heart, but my mannerisms push people away. I believe in myself, but I struggle with self-worth. I’m tired of fighting for peace when I continually immerse myself in chaos.
I have faced and overcome so many challenges. Considering all I’ve been through, the world could easily give me “a pass” to just exist. But that’s not good enough for me. I don’t want to merely exist, I want to LIVE. I want to stand proud despite all of the efforts of the Universe to break me. I want to be the best person that I can be without the use of “excuses” of hardship. I don’t want to be “The Sick Guy” anymore. I want to be the “I can’t believe you were sick, look at you now” guy. My story has been told. I am strong and healthy. I am supporting myself and thriving. I have made a comeback. I don’t want to talk about my illness anymore, unless asked. If my story can inspire, then I will gladly tell it. But it will not define me.

My attitude, my strength, my humanity, and my faith now define me. I know, in my heart, that my continued existence is not an accident. I have defied the odds given by doctors. I have been given the strength to fight myself back to health (physically at least). I have been blessed with the resolve to continually strive for self-improvement. I need to credit my Creator for all of it.

I always struggled with the notion of “turning it all over to Christ”. Or, as they say in AA, our Creator as we understand him. I always thought it was wrong to not give ourselves credit for our accomplishments. I openly pushed back on that. However, I now understand that what it really means is that God gives us the strength to overcome. If we are humble and emotionally mature enough to ask him for help.
I am amazed that, as a Believer (was I?) this never occurred to me.

I have run from religion most of my life. I eventually embraced Spirituality. Not as a copout, but because I struggled with the mainstream concept of religion. But my real issue lies in my issues with people I have met in religious settings. I have had several memorable (traumatic?) incidents with sanctimonious, disingenuous, and dangerously self-righteous people. I have been exposed to feigned superiority through the veneer of their faith. I have witnessed racism, victim-shaming, and unadulterated condescension in the name of religion. As for hypocrisy, well I don’t have the time to list all of the examples. So I rejected religion.
Now I ask myself, why do these people differ from others? Why can’t I treat them as I do other people I encounter in life that rub me the wrong way? If I meet someone at the Gym, work, Post Office, etc., that annoys me, I think,”It’s their journey leave it alone.” Why can’t I do that? Religion is like anything else in life. There is good and bad. Where there are people, there is hypocrisy. Yet, I closed myself off to an entire component of my life, the spiritual.

This is for you, my beautiful Lisa. I may never be a person who gushes publicly with religious fervor. However, I will walk with the surety of a man of faith. I will not only take comfort in believing that I have a purpose. I also have peace of mind in the Divine bodyguard beside me as I fulfill that purpose. I’m turning it over to God.

I was once told that I walk like a “Proud Peacock”. It was meant as a compliment. My walk exuded confidence and self-assuredness. Only I knew that it was largely an act. A defense mechanism to cause people to leave me alone. By embracing my faith fully, it is no longer an act. I know I was put here, and saved several times for a reason. It’s time to go out and boldly find and work towards that purpose.

Keeping it

“Almost canceled my Blog”, Sing it, it works if you remember the 60’s ballad Almost cut my hair by CSNY.

I thought I was done blogging. With love to the loyal readers I have, my readership has dwindled to almost nothing. I was questioning the point of it. I went as far as to cancel everything upon expiry. But I reinstated it today. I need it more than ever.
Let me tell you why.
I had the urge to share a worthy thought today. Then the realization that I would have no outlet hit me. I need that outlet. Sure, I have a hard time finding time to post, but I want to find the time. I think it would be nice to recap each day and talk about what I did right and wrong. I am going to work hard at making that time.
As for readership? Well, that is like anything else in life. If the product is good, it will be consumed. If I create good content, well-crafted thoughts about subjects that matter to people, then they will come to my page. Challenge created and accepted.
Last reason, I never know who is reading.

You may remember Lisa? Lisa is a fake name for a woman that I dated. Lisa is a beautiful woman with whom I enjoyed a fleeting moment in time. We were doomed from the start because she was married. We both struggled with the morality of it, but at the time, she was what I needed. I was struggling on dialysis, I didn’t have much of my own, and I was terribly lonely. Enter the demure Pharmacy Tech with the “Tractor-beam ” eyes and the sultry voice. I couldn’t make enough trips to pick up medications.
Our fling was all that I had. While I struggled with the complications of sneaking around, I felt shame for doing an obvious wrong. But I loved spending time with her. There was unforgettable intimacy. To this day she remains the sexiest woman I have ever been with. But we had amazing talks and got along so well. Until we didn’t.
She ended it. I was devastated. I almost laugh at it now. There was no future for us as long as she was married and I knew it. But I loved her. A couple of weeks of silence passed. I wanted answers and she didn’t give them. Unread texts and missed calls weighed upon me. But eventually she replied. I thought her reply was a bit snarky. But she let me know that she would be divorcing her husband. And she wouldn’t be seeing me anymore.
I know now that I had nothing to offer her at that time. I also knew that she needed space to recover from her divorce. Knowing she was right wasn’t of great comfort to me, I just wanted her in my life.
She would become another in a long line of disappointments.

Lisa reached out to me yesterday. First, by FB Messenger, then we talked on the phone for almost 2 hours. I was shocked but over the moon excited to talk to her. She is in a good place. She has embraced religion, meditated on her past, and atoned for the things she feels she has done wrong. She extended an Olive Branch to me. I accepted, and to the best of my ability took responsibility for my own shortcomings and actions. If she wanted forgiveness, I wasn’t about to make her work for it. I told her that I had nothing but Love for her then, and not to mention it again.
I’m still reeling. I never thought I would hear from her again. In over 4 years I have never forgotten her. Her beauty, her soft mannerisms, combined with an innate toughness, and the effect of hearing her voice on the phone. To have a conversation with her after all this time meant so much to me. I was in such a bad place emotionally that day, it was just what I needed.

I don’t know what, if anything, will happen from here. I know one thing. If I never talk to her again, I am so glad that I got to do it one more time. Oh, did I mention that she knew exactly what I was up to? Including my apparently less-than-flattering discussion of our break-up 4 years ago. Do you know why?
Because she reads my blog.

See how I went full circle there?

Lisa, keep reading. Because I have so many good things to say about you as well.

Easier said than done

Who among you has ever grabbed a piece of paper late at night? Specifically, at 11:30 PM, and frantically scrawled a list of everything they hate about themselves?
Me. That’s who. I watched a beloved character from a favorite show deliver a scene-stopping line. “I am SO tired of my own Bullshit!”, she said. That was my reaction. I began to log my own Bullshit. It wasn’t hard to do; I had a working list in mere seconds.

I’m not loving what I came up with. I shouldn’t love it, it’s the harsh truth. If I am to continue on my constant path of self-improvement, these character flaws must be addressed. They might seem paltry, insignificant, or even false to some. It’s about me, and I can’t be concerned about it making sense to others. In fact, that is number one on my list; stop caring what others think.

I stop short of calling myself full of shit. But I can be a bit hypocritical when I want to. I’m the first person to say that I don’t care about what people think of me. I wish it was true, but it isn’t. I care greatly about what my peers think of me. Not based on matters of image, but how I am perceived and understood. In particular I care about my character. This is an important distinction; reputation is what people think of you, but character is who you actually are. And there lies the issue. I feel that people don’t know me for who I am and what I bring to the table. If I feel that someone doesn’t grasp my intentions or the reasons behind my actions I will feel misunderstood. I hate misunderstandings. My quest to avoid misunderstandings causes me a great deal of anxiety and duress. I consider myself a genuine, good-natured and well-intentioned man. It kills me when I am perceived otherwise.

I suppose that this revelation opens another portal of personal struggle. I also have a sincere expectation of honesty and communication. I am not so concerned with events as I am the cause. When someone wrongs me I need to know why. My recent breakup is a perfect example. After several very enjoyable dates, I noticed compatibility was evident. Despite this, a woman I was dating suddenly told me that she can’t see me anymore. A family matter had come up and she couldn’t do “the boyfriend thing”. It was only a few dates so it wasn’t crushing to me. But it didn’t make sense to me. I have been obsessing over this for over a week. I am outraged that I didn’t get an explanation for how someone can just shut someone off like that. Especially when things were going so well. But she doesn’t owe me that. It would have been considerate and very helpful to me. It would ease the cycle of overthinking and inevitable self-blame. But I’m not going to get my explanation. I’m just going to have to deal with that. She’s not me. I can’t expect “me” in others. Because I want it does not mean that I can have it. I need to come to grips with this.

Easier said than done. But worrying about shit that I can’t change is also on the list of BS that I need to stop.

Now all I have to do is reckon with what I came up with.

Enough with the BS

I need to reconcile myself. I need to get my life in order. Overall, I have a pretty great life. But it’s time to tackle some things about myself if I’m ever going to achieve happiness.
Happiness, what is it even? At a cursory glance, I am relatively happy. At least for moments when I am enjoying my favorite activities. Riding my motorcycle gives me great joy, as it often includes good times with great friends. Moments with family make me happy. I am fortunate to have close and meaningful relationships with my children. My Masonic activities are my source of fulfillment and meaningful interaction with others.
Those are moments of happiness. Unfortunately, I spend more time alone than I do partaking in any of the above. I am generally happy around my circle.

However, when I am alone, I am decidedly unhappy.

I used to hate being alone. I now look forward to it. Most assuredley, this is due to my waning ability to tolerate people for extended periods. I like people a great deal, but I have a decreasing tolerance for the antics of many people today. I look forward to retreating to my sanctuary, my “Fortress of Solitude after a long day of peopling. I breathe a sigh of relief when I walk through the door. Getting home is my favorite part of the day.
Until the demons come.

The negative thoughts come at night. It’s unlikely it’s a coincidence that it happens when I get high. Weed has become a regular aspect of my routine. I need to wind down at night, to put the anxiety at bay. Weed is the only thing that works. I will have to deal with the unfortunate side effect of analyzing every aspect of my life, good or bad (mostly bad) for hours on end. For a while, these episodes caused me much duress. But I have come to realize that weed causes my brain to tell me the truth. And that truth is that I have some things to work on. I have come to value the insights gained during these sessions.

I heard a line on TV the other night that reached out of the screen and throttled my neck. “I’m sick of my own bullshit.” An older version of myself would have run from this harsh reality. It caught me at the right moment, at that moment I was indeed sick of my own Bullshit.

I expect to explore that Bullshit in depth.

Man seeking woman. Maybe. I’m not sure

It would be wonderful if I could understand that I don’t need a romantic partner to be complete as a person.

I want one. That is true. More than anything. Having someone to share my life with is the final item on my bucket list. I have recovered my health. I have gotten myself back on my feet financially. I have gotten my own place to live. All that remains is to get another shot at a meaningful and rewarding relationship.

Alas, dating has been a nonstop sequence of rejection and disappointment. It is only my stick-to-it attitude (that dominates every area of my life) that causes me to persevere. In reality, it should be clear to me that it means that I haven’t met the right one yet. But it’s starting to feel like I’m not dateable. To put a finer point on it, I am starting to blame myself for each failed try. And it is taking a terrible toll on my self-esteem. I’m beginning to think that my very happiness is contingent upon being in a relationship. Which is a shame because I actually have a pretty great life.

The most recent one stings a bit. We only went out a few times but we really connected. She was real. She was fun. She was my type. I felt really comfortable with her. On our third date she asked to be exclusive. I came close to dropping my shields and allow myself to feel happy. The next morning, while preparing for our mutually highly anticipated day together, I got a text from her. Family issues came up, she needs to focus on it, can’t do a relationship right now. There was no mention of whether it was permanent or temporary. Because it seemed to be real, I didn’t dig deeper for fear of making it about me. I told her that if things change, to reach out. Damn, I liked this one. But it stings. I have done the usual overthinking. I can’t, for the life of me pinpoint if it’s something that I did. I also don’t have reason to believe that she is being dishonest with me. I don’t know what to think.

But I hurt. The letdown stings. I can’t help but wonder if I should continue in the dating world. Or should I just hand it over to the Universe? To her credit, the Universe has provided every other blessing in my life. The problem is that I look for signs in everything. Am I going to be looking too hard for love?

I really don’t know what to do. Patience is not something I possess in abundance. And I am getting tired of getting kicked in the nuts every time I put myself out there. A big part of me wants to remove myself from the scene. To grow a beard and make myself as unattractive as possible. To push people away for fear of them getting too close. Unfortunately, that is not who I am. I get hurt because I am open and accessible. It’s one of my few redeeming traits.

90 days

I have reached 90 days of Sobriety. For full disclosure, I haven’t entirely given up my nightly indulgence of the “electric lettuce” (weed). This habit makes me what is called “California Sober.” A distinction without a difference.

90 days ago I decided that I wanted to quit drinking. For the past 90 days I have been able to do that.

It was a daunting yet good decision to stop. It’s been a struggle at times but overall my life has improved. Physically, I’ve lost a few inches and feel great. My lab work has been excellent. There is a (small) spring in my step.
Mentally, I am moving in the right direction. Now sober, I have one less anxiety to ruminate. The mental fixation. The self-flagellation that weighed so heavily on me for more years is gone. The fixation was strong, I constantly thought about booze; what type?, do I have enough?, what time should I start? I really enjoy not having that conversation with myself. This raises a question, do I think about not drinking now as I did about drinking before?

Maybe, but it’s a good trade.

Dreams

I was recently asked if I have any dreams I want to realize before I die. When you have dealt with the ups and downs of chronic illness, you don’t have dreams. You have a bucket list. Mine is extensive.

Before I die, and that’s really what it comes down to, I hope to accomplish many things. They range from the very serious to the “that looks fun.” Before I die, I want to;

Go skydiving. There are a lot of reasons to want to do this. However, the appeal to me is primarily about overcoming a great fear. I am terrified of heights. I have nightmares of falling (many people do). Jumping out of a plane will be a brave stand against both. I may go to my grave feeling a bit less of a pussy.
I will likely do this before it is too late.

Go across country in a RV. I’ve always wanted to see America in a Kerouac way. I want to be present, not an observer. I dream of seeing this great country through a windshield. I dream of taking my time. Asking locals where they go to drink and eat. To meet people and learn the small details of their corner of the world. I would love to do this with the love of my life. If not, I will definitely do it with a dog by my side.
This is a doable dream. Although it might be modified to a convertible and motels.

I would like to make a long motorcycle trip. I’ve done trips as long as a few days. I want to do one over a month or more.

Fortunately, I’ve made a strong comeback in life recently. I have crossed many small items off the list. I’ve also crossed a few big ones off.
So let’s move on to the big ones.
I want to find peace of mind. I am tired of the anxiety and the negative thinking. A dream of mine is to do whatever I must do, including therapy if that’s what it takes, to reach a mental place where I can enjoy some of the time I have left in harmony with the world around me. I know this is an odd one, but it really is that important to me.

Here’s the big one. I want to fall in love. It saddens me to say this, but my wife wasn’t my greatest love. I loved her, but there is a feeling I crave that is yet unfilled. I want to meet The One. The person that I think of first when I wake and last when I go to sleep. I want a woman who makes me glad I’m alive. A woman so great that her happiness will always be my greatest concern.

This just occurred to me. I also have a dream of being a man of such great character. I want to be deserving of True Love. That one wraps up nicely.

Embrace Your Uniqueness: A Journey of Self-Discovery

I was recently asked what my last blog post would be. I had to think about it of course. I decided to write it as if I was actually well-adjusted at the time of my demise. That makes this an exercise in Creative Writing. Here goes.

Be yourself. No matter what. Then embrace it. 

That is what my final blog post would say. 

I cannot tell you how many blogs I have written about finding and understanding myself and what I stand for. I have always struggled with matters of identity. I could go on for days about my findings on this matter. Suffice to say, I showed up at the party way too late.

I’m glad I got here. However, I surely wasted an irretrievable amount of time, effort, angst, and agony in the process. I told the President of my HS reunion committee something several years ago. This was when I was asked for a quote for the newsletter. I said, “I searched high and low, far and wide for who I am. Only to realize that I was me all along.” 

I never thought I was enough. Or the right thing. Or in the right place. I don’t know why, nothing in my childhood explains it. Nobody has ever told me that I’m not good enough except me. It’s as if I placed other people’s expectations of me without their offer or permission. I think I tried to be who and what people wanted or expected. Sometimes different personas for different people or groups. 

I was big and intimidating. So I acted it. But I’m not tough nor do I want to intimidate. That didn’t work.

I was charming (to a degree) so I acted the part of Ladies Man and Playa. But I like and respect women, I didn’t even like hookups.

I was a decent artist. So I tried to emanate artsy and liberal. Turns out I’m a casual artist and I am not wired to take mushrooms and sing Kumbaya around a campfire.

I could go on. Suffice it to say that despite having varied interests and strengths, not a single one of them defines me. They are merely components of me. The day I realized that was a great day indeed. 

As much as I can parrot the tired line, “I don’t care what people think about me” I do. But not in the conventional sense. 

It matters to me that people know who I am and what I stand for. It matters to me that people know that I am a good person. Sure I want to be liked, but I have recognized that respect or appreciation is what I truly desire. 

I have found that the answer is in the company you keep. Your friends will not only understand your uniqueness. The organizations you attend meetings and events at will also appreciate it. The people you spend time with will too. They will know your quirks and pecadillos.  They will know who you really are and what you stand for.

I am the chocolate box in Forrest Gump’s lap. I come in many shapes and forms. They’re all good in their own way. If some of my pieces don’t do it for you, then leave them and enjoy another. I’m me and you never know what me you’re going to get.

Having made that bizarre statement, the overall point is my recommendation to everyone to just be yourself. If you’re not surrounding yourself with people who appreciate the particular magic you bring to the table…well then find a new circle.