When I leapt, before I looked

This writing prompt made me pull from a few years ago. We all take risks at some level. Even our daily commute to and from work is risky. (At least in my part of the world)

This particular risk was notable, because:

1. It didn’t work out.
2. It led to even worse decisions.
3. Almost ruined my life.
4. I almost walked away from everybody and everything in my life.
5. …it was part of a long road that helped me heal, find my way again.

I had a potentially excellent job working for The City. Wore the suits, had the office with a nice westernly view, overlooking a central park downtown….bars and restaurants within walking distance….but I was miserable.

After almost 2 years, I realized I couldn’t change decades of toxic work culture and apathy. The management was ineffective, apathetic, and clueless. Those above and below me were roadblocks to change. Zero accountability with almost everyone.

So…I left.

But I jumped on the wrong train.

The short version: Those 3.5 jobs were classic Bait and Switch. I was hired to do something, only to be thrown into a meat grinder and cast aside when no longer needed, or when I questioned their motives and leadership abilities, or lack of.

I say 3 and half jobs…because this current job is the other “half” of that .5

This place of employment almost became another Bait and Switch. I didn’t know that I was “X” employee in the same position under a Director who chewed through people like cheap Post-It-Notes. I really didn’t pay attention until it was too late, that my co-workers (Fellow Project Managers) were leaving en masse. Either transferring or just flat out quitting. Barely 90 days into my role, my Director swapped me out with someone else. (Probably to avoid embarrassment of losing yet another employee) My replacement quit after 30 days in the middle of a meeting, experiencing chest pains. I felt bad for them, but also felt…vindicated.

“It’s not me…it’s you”.

So as I sit here…7 years later after that bumpy start, I smile at the person I have become. I’m more at peace. I’m mostly calmer. I still have my issues, but they are easier to control and treat.

This newest blog is also a reflection of that. Whereas my last blog was only focusing on all the bad things, and a cry for help.

This one…this one is full of perspective, and hope. Things have gotten better since I took that terrible risk. I do paused and try to think things through a little better since then. And weigh the What-If’s and so on.

And technically at this age and stage of my life, I don’t dive in head first anywhere. I am more likely to wade in. 🙂

Daily writing prompt

When is the last time you took a risk? How did it work out?

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Attack of the Gummie

Even at this age, I make some really stupid decisions. Example, when the package recommends a 1/4th or half dose of a CBD gummie….DO NOT TAKE A FULL ONE.

I was already laying down on the couch after a physical Saturday in the yard. How bad can one gummie be? When I woke up, or thought I was awake, my brain was all over the place. I wish I could explain the feeling and sensation. And it’s something I really don’t want to do again, not at that level. A calm and chill experience is nice. But this one was too much. My face was like a ripple, moving inwards. My thoughts and memories were like looking down on a vast warehouse full of file cabinets, some closed, others with the drawers open, or spilled onto the floor in a massive jumble. As I poked through these memories, I was impressed how many minute and insignificant memory would pop up.

The physical design of a riding mower rim, from 1972 in our back yard when I was a child, The way the tire tread created an optical illusion as it rolled through the grass.

The creak of a rocking chair when I was very little and my mother rocked me for a nap and sang to me.

The smell coming through my open window from the farm and field next door during the endless summer vacation from school.

Marching in Basic Training with 51 other guys, wondering what my career was going to be like.

Watching the driveway at night, knowing my oldest sister was coming to visit for the holidays, waiting to see her car pull in after driving from her apartment in New Jersey.

The sound of my Dad stirring coffee in the morning, banging his spoon against the side of the cup, a leftover habit from his depression days and when they used rock-like candy sugar lumps, that had to be broken up.

The 8′ tall Nun who visited my Grandmother in the coal mining town with huge blue eyes and a mustache. I was terrified of her. (She was not 8′ tall, but had a mustache)

I also felt like I was in a slow freefall, passing endless trivial memories on the way down. When I finally did get up,the room was tilted, spinning….and I gracefully crashed to the floor in the kitchen. I managed to prop myself up against the sink cabinet, sitting on the floor. My daughter and wife got me water, and sugar-laced snacks to help the CBD wear off. I then started to sweat all over. My body was very upset with me. I was finally able to get up and got back to couch, until about 2 am and then migrated to the bedroom.

I was in a cloud and still a little disoriented the whole day. Also feeling embarrassed for causing a scene and concern.

Even now, four days later, I haven’t had a drink. (Refer to the Fun Bobby posted earlier today)

I have the maturity and sensibility to be responsible…but I lack the capacity at times.

As I mentioned before, sometimes I just want to be numb and not think. Just not at that extreme end of the spectrum. Thank God I don’t do hard drugs (Or any unnecessary drugs for that matter) I will stick with the booze and in moderation.

Sometimes it’s good to get scared and get a reset.

Fun Bobby

Alternate title: No Booze Day 3.

My father was an alcoholic. His near-fatal stroke at the age of 58 was the “cure”. He dropped out of 7th grade to work in the coal mines. Dad was born in 1914 for reference.

He was also 50 when I was born. So I’m not judging his drinking days. Also he married his co-worker’s widow with 4 children. I would have drank excessively too.

My drinking was a product of the 80’s nightlife. Then from the military. Then from not being in the military. From being a project manager, from not being a project manager….

There is always an “excuse” to drink. I do love a nice cold beer, a deep red glass of wine, a tall pour of honey-infused bourbon…but the problem is, it doesn’t end at one.

Then there is also “I had a day….” or “So and so really pissed me off…” “life sucks…” “I wish I didn’t do this or that…” So again, I get it why drinking is easy and can get out of hand.

So far, I kept it under control. I had some nights, at home, where I had just one too many. I tried making it a rule to not drink on a work night. I’ve had mixed results. But what I do know is, when I don’t drink, and wake up for work, I feel so much better and proud of myself for restraint. Our liquor cabinet is stocked very nicely. So I have proof I can behave and keep myself in-check.

I’ve had to cut down on coffee, so anything is possible.

“Fun Bobby” was one of Monica’s boyfriends on “Friends” and when she confronted him about his drinking problem, he became Sober, Very Dull Bobby. As Monica started to drink to compensate for his sobriety, Fun Bobby left her.

I know I don’t need a drink everyday, for whatever reason. I also need to quit snacking. I’m like the local landfill at night. At this age, shit really does stick to your ribs.

I also tried non-alcoholic beer and it’s pretty good, they really stepped up the taste of them.

One thing I will never let go of is my ice cream, breakfast cereal and shakes. But in moderation. I want to see my waist again.

Drinking to forget or to feel nothing sounds great…but wanting to feel better needs to be done differently. Maybe I will start drinking non-caffeinated tea at night again. Something warm to sip while binge watching TV as I try to forget about the world for a few hours.

Cheers.

Risky Business

Some risks are a given. Marriage, joining the military….etc. But this writing prompt made me want to deep a little deeper and pull from a more recent experience. Because marriage and my former military career are in a different light after all of these years. (No regrets, just in a different point of view decades later)

January 2020, I was trying to be a project manager and technical field support, and doing both jobs partially and not 100% effectively. Also pushing 55, I didn’t have the same energy to handle that kind of pressure and workload. Something had to give, something had to be sacrificed. My boss asked me to choose a side of the fence. COVID was starting to dominate the news, but in the past with such things like bird fly, swine flu, mad cow disease, or even Ebola, I was thinking this will be a blip on the calendar and we would move onto something else. But as we know, it didn’t and it only got worse.

I also didn’t realize my human resource department would treat my decision, my voluntary decision, to be considered a demotion. I took at $10K pay cut. At first I was devastated. And very angry. I felt like I was being punished for choosing the wrong side. My boss sat down with me, and he didn’t know that this would happen either, and he calculated I would be “paying” X amount of dollars to NOT attend project meetings, try to meet impossible deadlines and budget issues…and my favorite part: NOT dealing with internal red tape, little cubicle empires, toxic co-workers….and more. That was the kind of math I could understand and appreciate.

As COVID became worse and more frightful, I had to continue going into work. I was “Essential” and had to be here. My whole team of co-workers did as well. Somehow, we didn’t catch COVID, we followed safety protocols, distancing, and got the job done.

If I stayed as a project manager, I would have worked from home mostly. While that does sound very appealing, and to get extra sleep….I would also probably snack, sit idle, and my mind would just skip like a scratched record. I needed to be engaged, challenged, tasked….use my hands. It has ALWAYS been that way. I wasn’t happy unless I was productive and contributing to something tangible. Project Management never gave me that level of satisfaction.

Up until a few months ago, I had that “itch” to get back to Project manager. But each time, I heard that behind the scenes, those who did get the job didn’t last very long, or they caved and gave the position to someone who didn’t deserve it. Some things never change.

I love the thrill of the chase, just not chasing my tail. Or chasing an impossible finish line.

So finally, I let go of the urge to go “back”. I finally put that ghost to rest.

….and moved on.

Daily writing prompt

Describe a risk you took that you do not regret.

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There is no perfect life

I’m not upset about this realization, or pessimistic observation, I’m just trying to accept some things.

As a child, teenager and even up until a few years ago, I would sometimes think my life wasn’t fair. That’s petty, selfish and totally illogical. If life followed a plan we wouldn’t be passionate, brave, daring, hopeful or hungry for life. We would coast allowing “the plan” to unfold. Granted some people do have everything mapped out for themselves. And their plan actually works out. But what was that price? Did they put off everything else in their journey? Did they isolate themselves to avoid drama and distractions? I dated a girl in High School and she followed her plan. Is she happy now? I think she is still alone, but maybe due to guys like me she dated, she is happier? Even when her parents divorce like mine did years before, she ignored the drama and kept focused on her end game.

Some people have zero plans. They just wake up and go with it. Either by choice, fate, apathy, mental illness, or feel there is no hope and way to change things. They just accept it. Are some of them happy? Any regrets there? I expected to have both parents and my family live forever. We would continue gathering whenever for whatever. I would stay in my birthplace state….forever. Everyone would be happy and content.

The school summer vacations would last for what felt like an entire year. The farmer next door would continue to plant crops in the field behind us, I would explore the woods every day, and build snow until I couldn’t feel my feet anymore.

Dad and I would fish quiet hidden streams, I would play with my childhood friends forever.

None of this happened. Before I was 15, all of it changed. Death, divorce, illness, moving a thousand miles away…no more change of seasons, or the comforting silence of snow on the ground. So what do I do with this “Cursed life”? Looking back at my person debris field, I see that somehow kept going. I truly do apologize for another blog post about this…. But it’s helping me, to grow, to understand, to accept and maybe…just maybe, let go of some of that history that haunts me.

I tried so hard to erase parts of me that I don’t want to revisit, remember or continue to exist with. But at the same time, that’s exactly what I do. I chain myself to the past. I gives me pause, punishment, guilt, pain, regret….It nudges me into indecision, hesitation, creates a bias.

What would I be like if “The Plan” stayed the course? Would I like the guy in the mirror? Would he have made less bad decisions, lost less friends, drank less, spend less, be more confident and less afraid? Would he have joined the military? And then see the world? Or would he have stayed in his little sleepy farm town with no urge to improve, to fight back, to make amends to himself or others? Just existing until the next page was turned for him?

Would he be this deeply morose and sometimes depressed middle-aged man trying to find purpose and the will to let things go for a change? Would his medicine cabinet have less bottles to help him get through the dark times? Would the aches and pains be less, could he sleep more that “X” amount of hours on a good night?

Or….maybe this was the plan all along. Did God plan this for me? Or is it because he obviously knows life isn’t perfect. But we have free will, we can decided how to respond to whatever comes our way. We decide the next move. Who to love, forgive, and when to let go of them when they leave us too soon.

Once I can accept that fact, and not the fallacy that I was robbed of something….maybe I can breath a little easier again, sleep another minute undisturbed.

As they say, count your blessings and not the misfortunes.

How my love for K-Dramas make me a better person

I’m pushing 60, grey hair, beard….love some 80’s rock and roll…woodworking….and watching K-Dramas.

I don’t like sports (I will watch them, but not religiously)…or follow other potentially toxic male or xenophobic venues. I’m retired military, but I’m not a gun nut. I’m concerned about our current border situation, but also remind myself daily that I am only 2nd generation American. I also remind myself that this country was built on the sweat and blood of immigrants and still continues to do so.

I also do not think America is the greatest country in the world. It’s full of potential and freedoms, but when I see my fellow countrymen act like children and show hatred towards each other based on sex, orientation, political views…or even their sports teams. (insert facepalm here)

My oldest daughter discovered and fell in love with BTS. Then the food…and the culture. My wife was close behind. Now a few years later, they are planning a trip to Korea. (And learning the language)

My post isn’t just about Korea, but it was a gateway for my perspective on the world. I already had a pretty healthy one from being deployed on both sides of the planet. There are still places I wouldn’t want to re-visit, but there are some places I wouldn’t mind moving to. I love the Brits for example, or the Canadians. The Japanese and Filipino people were so friendly. I felt more welcomed in some of these countries than in some of my visits to nearby towns or states.

Now I know any form of movie or TV show is not the “real world”, and how relationships are 24/7. But on the flip side, just like any art medium, it brings you joy, hope and promise that they are good in people, and sometimes karma does bite the toxic people in the ass eventually. 😉

I’m amazed by the way the Korean actors can show emotion on the flip of a switch. You feel their joy, pain, fears, anger and happiness. Maybe it’s because I leave the Korean language on with English subtitles. A lot of the other languages are beautiful and no level of dubbing their voices can capture the emotion of the actual actor. I am sorry, but I do have English on for German shows. It’s a hard edged language, but I still love their plot lines. I also enjoy the occasional Nordic detective shows.

Once my wife and daughter started preparing Asian dishes, I fell in love with that kind of cooking. I still love my American BBQ and fast food at times, but I really love how you can do Korean BBQ at the family table together on the table top grill. It’s the whole experience of sharing together.

Maybe one of the biggest reasons I love watching them is you to have to READ each word. You can’t look away distracted (which is very, very easy for me to do) You read every word and let it sink in. So it’s almost enjoying a good book, and show.

I am also impressed how they end each episode with a cliff-hanger usually. (and regret staying up late on a work night to squeeze in one more episode)

I also appreciate how they usually avoid nudity and sex as the base for everything. How the characters don’t jump in bed after being together for 5 minutes. (Again, not the real world, but a nice break from it)

So at the end of each emotional roller coaster episode, I want to be a better husband, friend, Dad, co-worker and human.

…and have some Korean BBQ. 🙂

Keep moving forward

When I was in the contracting world and my life depended on budgets each year, it was very stressful. I would try to NOT think about the renewal period and keep a positive outlook. But a few times, my company wouldn’t get the contract again, and I had to move on. One time I counted over 900 emails in my job pursuit. (these are applications, the auto-replies from the HR departments, etc.) I could have just laid down and given up, but I didn’t, I couldn’t.

And in the 11th hour, a job would materialize. Luck, divine intervention, God giving me hope….all of the above. So having that determination has helped me survive so many things. Even way back when my parent’s were divorcing (which is a reoccurring theme in some of my posts) I kept moving forward. For I knew that nothing would last forever, either the good or the bad. I just knew it would…end.

Daily writing prompt

Describe a decision you made in the past that helped you learn or grow.

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Seven Years Ago

“…When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree…”

Already heading into my 3rd week at my new job. I had to write a short bio and still have many many people to meet yet.

Of course it causes self-reflection. I may have upset some non-military friends or family with my issues about civilians at the work place in the past.

Of course it’s not everyone, everywhere. Just my last few places have been…incompatible.

My life and maybe some of yours seem to be one long crash test. We see what gets broken and try to reengineer ourselves so it won’t happen again.

We try to avoid the same pitfalls, land mines, sharp edges (or words) that try to break us.

At one point of my life, I was that Boy Scout, altar boy….Military member. I was never perfect, but kept trying to serve the greater good at those major versions of “Me”.

I found refuge in art, carpentry, work….but they can’t keep your soul filled all the time. I had a blog that was semi-private for about 2 years….800 posts later, it didn’t work for me and I deleted every single word. I kept searching for “me” again.

I was talking to a young man this past week who shared some of my challenges and hard knocks and I wanted him to know that you can bounce back and keep going.

Also don’t try to do it alone. Have that special person in your life and best friend as a

Lightning rod. Also have faith in a higher power. This way you are never alone.

I also want to apologize for any crude humor or language that I may have used on here or will in the future. It’s a part of me, it balances out all those superhero traits you think I’m capable of from time to time.

(I have trouble working the elevator before coffee)

I need to dance on the edge at times.

I think the worst part was being knocked down so far and so fast that you lose confidence in yourself and think you can never do anything right, ever again. It can cause you to feel like an imposter at times.

The trick is to let go of the past, keep your head in the game, faith in above and love of all good things and people close to you.

Buckle up, we have places to go yet.

Sister Saviour

My childhood had some “significant emotional events”. Those are the kind of things that shape you both good and bad. My parents packed up and moved to the South from my sleepy little farming community. It was a culture shock in both the climate and overall change in my environment. And before that first year was over, I lost my sister and sister-in-law in one car accident.

My mother and father were probably always drifting apart before all of this happened. It was always more of a marriage of convenience as she was a young widow with four children. I was just a surprise that may have kept them together a little longer.

Over the next couple of years, and the week my grandmother was leaving this earth, my mother left my dad. Her timing was never the best. The weeks and months that followed were a blur. I don’t remember the specific details, but I reached out to my middle sister and arranged to move back up North to stay with her and begin High School.

On paper, this was the perfect scenario. I got away from my parent’s drama and ugly divorce, I got to go back my home state, but something was missing.

My sister and I sat down one afternoon, it was a beautiful sunny day at her house in the woods. I wish I could remember the specific conversation, but all I know is, that it gave me a reset, perspective, hope, initiative and plan to return back South to my Father. I realized that I missed him, the divorce threw me for a loop and I wasn’t thinking clearly. That was my first attempt to go back North/Home. It would happen again about 5 years later. With the same results.

But that first time, that was the one that gave me hope. To make my own destiny. To grow, survive and evolve.

28 years later, I thanked her at my military retirement ceremony for saving my life. I have no idea what I would have been doing, or the path I was currently on if it wasn’t for her help.

Daily writing prompt

Describe a positive thing a family member has done for you.

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Lesson Learned

In the early 80’s, everyone wore certain brands, hair styles, listened to a particular radio station, hung out in specific circles. (which has always and will be the case in any generation) As I mentioned in another post, high school was just a blur for me. I was too busy just trying to get through each day. But I also didn’t care if I did wear this or that. I didn’t care who I hung out with. I noticed 40 years later, the kids who really tried hard to fit in, or stressed on their image in school, had a difficult life after graduation. Not everyone, but quite a few I personally knew. One guy was very hip and cool, and I ran into him many years later. He was working a dead-end job, I was in my suit wearing phase due to my job at the time. I wasn’t trying to impress him, I was just in “uniform” for the clients and office environment. He was divorced, a semi-recovering alcoholic and look a little taken aback how I wasn’t the quiet kid hiding in the shadows of the school hallway. I’m not saying this to brag, just that it showed you can’t coast on what was. You have to keep pushing yourself, keep self-improving yourself. The world doesn’t care how popular you were at 17 years old, who you hung out with, or what you drove and clothing choices.

Basically you have to more than likely keep re-inventing yourself to survive, mature and grow as a human.

My personal crisis was just starting after that meeting, and it was my turn to fall apart. But….I reset, re-invented myself, accepted what life was throwing at me and kept clawing forward. I saw former bullies have a rough life, some died from excess of various things.

I’m not gloating that “I’m still here”, I’m grateful that I’m still alive and accepting who I am and still not caring about what other people think of me, and staying true to myself. Still.

Daily writing prompt

Describe something you learned in high school.

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