Have you seen “Inside Out”? It’s a fun movie, and has something to say about resiliency. In the movie, Riley, for all appearances a healthy, happy 11 year old, experiences a disruptive change due to their family’s move to a new home. Understandably, the stress of the move causes conflict among Riley’s emotions. Her family inadvertently makes matters worst by invalidating those emotions. In one case her mom tells her to fake how she feels for her father’s sake. As a consequence, Joy and Sadness are lost in the recesses of Riley’s mind, leaving behind only Anger, Fear and Disgust to navigate the world. Riley runs away, almost leaving on a bus, to what would have likely been disastrous consequences.Read the rest of “On Grief, Inside Out, and Resiliency”
Richelle’s Dad passed away Friday morning, October 20th. We’re going to miss you Dad.
Richelle’s Dad, Gin, passed away Friday morning, October 20th. I’ll be writing about Dad in a follow up here, but before get to that post, I wanted to share that just a month ago, on September 20th, I had the honor of giving a eulogy for his only sibling, his brother Gus, who passed away August 12th.
Uncle Gus was an extraordinary person and I hope you take a moment to read about him.
This was a rough year for so many. Amidst all of it there is plenty to celebrate and be thankful for, and to build upon.
What a crazy year.
I hope all of you have a happy new one.
Here’s to 2017.
I haven’t added a new page to this blog in eons!
I summarized a few FB posts into one page this morning: Poetry for Rose.
We miss you Rose.
I haven’t posted on my blog in about a half a year, and to post now after so long a break feels strange, but it feels necessary. Much of what I’m about to share below I’ve shared privately on social media.
Rose, Richelle’s sister, Emma’s Godmother, her Aunt Roro, passed away early last week, most likely from a heart attack.
Her entire family is struggling to find words that can make any kind of sense of it all, but there is just no way to do so. She meant the world to her family, friends, co-workers and clients.
Parents shouldn’t be put in the situation to have to bury a child.
Sisters who loved each other as the deepest friends shouldn’t be taken from one another so soon.
And Emma, oh Emma, I can’t come close to express her heartache and what she lost. Rose really was Emma’s third parent.
Rose leaves behind so many great memories. Let me share just one: As a late teen, I had never danced. Rose lost her date to the prom and I ended up taking her, with Richelle’s blessing. And Rose got me out on that dance floor. She was that kind of person to so many!
I’ve known Rose since I was 17. She was positive, passionate, and believed in me and Shell. We had the kind of relationship where she knew she could let me have it – and that we’d still be good the next day. We’d talk about vocation, about what our careers meant to us, about how to stand up for ourselves, while not getting caught by the kind of negativity that can keep us locked in place.
She inspired me, and I know I am not alone.
We are all thankful for the prayers and support we’ve been receiving.
If you feel so inclined, send a message to the family on the Wetzel and Son memorial page. Up to date details regarding her memorial service are found there as well.
There is a space in the world that just shouldn’t be. We love you and miss you Rose.
My thoughts and prayers for his entire family and to all who have known him. Comcast has been a great place to work, and has been great for family, and to give back to my community, and I know that springs in no small part to its founder.
I’ve just finished an eight week mindfulness course and I’ve been asked a few times if I got anything out it. Yes I have: I improved my card playing technique.
Hear me out.
There is a card playing metaphor me and my little brother have shared through the years to help get through difficult times: The goal is to play the hand you’ve been dealt, to the best of your ability. Don’t think too hard about the hands you’ve been dealt in the past, or worry about the cards which may come in the future, they are are out of your control.
If you spend too much time looking at the past, or worrying about the future, you will not make the best choice you can in the moment.
People who know me well, know I quote this quite a bit. It sounds so simple, but think of your own experience, and you know it is anything but.
The next few hands might mean winning or losing everything, and this day has been nothing but work, work, work, and you’re always losing these things so why are you sitting there anyway, and.. well.. Your adrenaline is probably pumping, and the moment you’re in might feel like the most critical moment EVAR. What happens next is what matters… right?
Hold onto that for a moment while I shift gears. I promise to return to this.
But first, let me ask you, doesn’t time start to really fly as we age? Blink and days, weeks, even months seem to zip by.
That’s because most moments, maybe this one if you are skimming (you probably are, lets be honest), are not an examined moments. Intentionally or not, as our experience grows, so do the stories we mentally collect, to filter our world by.
It is absolutely necessary. We need to do it to survive. Pondering the rain can keep you from seeking shelter and avoiding a lightning strike, and lightning rods are awesome.
It is probably the advanced pattern matching ability we have that differentiates humans from most animal life. And from one another.
We see someone react well, or poorly, under certain circumstances and we think that it is a sure sign of their innate intelligence, or their innate resilience. When, underneath it all, the truth is, they’ve had some experience, some teaching, some lesson that got absorbed.
Watch children play before they get too caught up in thinking before acting. They are experiencing the moment fully and learning from it. Sight, smell, sound, everything is getting recorded for pattern analysis and reuse. That’s why time moves so slow for them. Each moment is a learnable moment. Forming connections, stories, experiences that will get used in future situations. There is a lot of input getting written to memory. Absorbing that takes time and energy. So time moves slow.
Eventually all kids start to think about the future and the past, and that removes them from the current moment. How is school going suck tomorrow? Why didn’t my so called friend call me back? Time moves faster as the now is less and less examined. It does that because they no longer are in the current moment. They’re elsewhere.
When this becomes habit, whenever they are in a moment where there isn’t flooded with new stimuli (even though all moments are unique, how quickly we lose that!), you’ll hear, “I’m bored”.
So, full circle, back to the metaphor, the card game. The class has given me some techniques to get my head in the moment, to strengthen the quality of my attention, and to do so non-judgmentally. So I can hopefully see my hand of cards and recognize my mind’s attempts at zipping to the future or the past, to see the moment as a teachable one, once again.
Hearing classmates share their own struggles and journeys helped me to realize I wasn’t so alone. As our instructor shared, though we may all have different experiences, we feel similar things. We weren’t as isolated as we may think. Speaking of the instructors, I’m thankful for how they constructed the class, its pace, and making it easier to connect with concepts that can be very abstract and hard to grasp with self study.
Being non-judgemental is key. It’s necessary in order to observe those stories, those filters, that might have once been all important, when now they limit the choices I might make, or the enjoyment I might feel, if I let myself take in something fully.
As a child might, with a beginners mind.
And it’s not easy. It’s not about relaxing or positive thinking. It’s work to take your head out of your ass once it gets used to being there. It’s forming new habits to replace the old.
That means practice, one day at a time. One moment at a time.
That Ferris Bueller quote now seems far more deep now doesn’t it?
The New York Times today featured a short film from Elizabeth Lo where she reveals the long, lonely ride of the homeless in Silicon Valley, using Line 22 for a shelter for the night.
Her quiet short (8 minutes long), captured something that felt hauntingly familiar to me. In the early 90s I spent 2 weeks sleeping on the Frankford El, and like the temporary residents of this bus, did not know where to go, or who to talk to.
This is the 3rd in a series of 3 short films they are featuring, from independent filmmakers, supported in part from the Sundance Institute. Make sure to checkout the other two films.