A lot of words have been dedicated here and on the podcast about changing perspective.  It was recently shared on A Better Father podcast the video of Jocko* and saying “good” no matter what happened.  A mental adjustment.  When you say “good” you are stopping one reaction and pushing your mind to accept another reaction.

With that said, it sucks how much of modern-day parenting is based on what we were told, sold, had pushed on us, communicated, learned through example and age ole stupid cliches.

The stress of getting two people feed, lunches packed, teeth brushed, hair done, clothes on, bags packed and out the door in the correct amount of time to be on time.  How much of that perceived stress is based on anecdotally being taught and told it is difficult to get a kid ready? 

Contrary to the lived reality, I treat my daughter and myself as if this were true.  Such is the power of having a story repeated.

Even though this pressure to get ready was not our reality, my brain was treating it as if it were.  Pushing time limits.  Thinking the communication of countdowns was productive and necessary.  Informing her of the time we “had to leave by”.  Creating pressure where none previously existed.

As with many things having to do with parenting I attempt to learn, adjust, access, and find better ways to be a better parent.  Last week, when my daughter was not at home, a change occurred.  I was up at the normal time of 525 am.  Floundering through the start of the day.  Struggling to get from point “A” to point “B” (up and awake and ready and out the door).

It was this moment the revelation occurred of the structure she adds to MY morning.  With her home there is purpose for doing.  There is need to accomplish.  I do better when she is there.  She does not create a barrier to waking, getting ready and out the door.  She provides structure from waking, getting ready, and getting out the door.

Mind… shifted.

No longer will there be pressure forced in our home to adhere to the cliché that getting a kid ready and out the door is hard.  No longer will there be a countdown.  No longer will there be the threats of the impending doom(s) that shall befall us if we fail to execute by time “x”. 

In retrospect, I was teaching my daughter this is stressful.  That we are doing something wrong.  That waking and getting to school is hard.  Maybe even somehow hindered by her.  That her actions create a barrier to success in being “on time”.  The negative implications are numerous for 1.5 to 2 hours every morning she is home.

How exactly will this be handled?  First, communicate this with her.  Tell her this story.  Share this insight.  Let her know her being home is beneficial.  That she contributes to focus and success of being productive and getting out of the house in a timely manner.  I will ask what she thinks would work best to communicate to her when we should leave.  Then, let her know we’ll adjust, and flex as needed.

This is a moment with benefits in other areas of life.  Identifying times and moments to do better. To be more successful and purposeful when my daughter is not home.  Not having floundering moments without her. Being more structured with time when she is not home.

A Vegan Father… learning, adjusting, identifying moments to be a better parent.

Posted.  Not Perfect.

Books.  Books.  Books.  Today’s run was listening to How to Change by Katy Milkman.  Its adjacent to Atomic Habits by James Clear.  She mentions it in her book.  A particular part that resonated today was, “People who have the most success with change are those that believe they can change”.

My journey these past few years has been a mishmash of books, podcasts, documentaries, writing, getting back to health, with sprinkles of other life eccentricities.  Hearing Katy’s words spoken out loud help adjust my brain waves.  The idea of change was never thought of as being able to change but needing to change.  It was not thinking or knowing change could happen.  It was either change happens, or… 

To learn change is more likely to happen with a slight shift in wording was incredible.  An adjustment of words to be able to facilitate a better or differing outcome.  While running, in that exact moment, I said, “Okay, I can change.  I can keep changing”.  The desire was there.  The progress was there.  Steps were being taken.  One forward.  Half back.  Two forward.  Half back.  Now, change could get easier.  The words in my head adjusted.

Sometimes, I think we make things more complex than they need to be.  We feel the need to have the weight of the world on our shoulders.  We are not making change if we do not put a dent in the universe.  It is disheartening to look back at the person who was all those years ago.  A desire and hope to make an impact.  To change the world.  To fight the good fight.  To want to be known.  Only to spend a lifetime running in place.

All the hopes and dreams lived in my head.  All the illusions of grandeur, stories told.  Nothing done to move forward.  It was existence in moments, minutes, hours, days. Just getting from point A to B to sleep.  Get up.  Repeat.

Then my daughter.  The world got smaller.  The focus narrower.  The illusions of youth came off because she is what mattered.  Ironically, it was also action.  You cannot be an attentive parent without action.  You give up the pretense of self to help another learn, understand, and claim their sense of self.  Temporarily relieving yourself of self.  Just long enough to get this little person from their first point A to their first point B.  Then, with patience and time you get to get you back.  Your sense of self is brought back into the present.

In boot-camp for the Navy we were not allowed any “extras”. Which included cigarettes.  After nine weeks of boot-camp a person was physically done with the need to smoke.  Yet, for many that did smoke, one of the first things they did when allowed was get past the gates and light-up.  That mystified me.  They were forced to get past/through the physical addiction.  They could claim a new self and move forward from that harmful part of their past.  Yet, they choose to reclaim that sense of old self.

That was parenting to me.  To tuck away this piece of me while another literally relied on me to live.  It was worth giving up those pieces of self to help another claim theirs.  Then, bit by bit bringing back the self.  Only, this time there was choice.  As if moving to a new town and reinventing yourself to people that know nothing about you.  Yet, you are still you.  There is only so much change that can happen.  You can move zip codes, but you cannot move from you.  Unless there is a forced changed.

I could have gone back to the old me.  Reclaimed out of spite, ignorance, anger, frustration, pick your poison. A me I was not particularly fond of, but was comfortable and known.  Every fear, worry, frustration, bit of anger, childhood hang-up was thrown into apot.  Then blended on high by another.  The exact reaction you would think you would get was got.  Another excuse.  Another reason to fallback.  Another reason to be able to let go and call foul and claim righteous indignation.  Another person.  Another time.  Maybe that is what would have happened.

Son.  Brother.  Uncle. Friend.  Boyfriend.  Fiancé. Co-worker.  Employee. Boss. Acquaintance.  F$#@ buddy.  Drinking buddy.  Late night buddy.  Make out buddy.  The list goes on.  But starts with…

Father. 

A Vegan Father…. A person capable of change.

Posted.  Not Perfect.

Kate Milkman How to Change:

https://www.katymilkman.com/book/

Today I was reminded of moments from the past few years.  It started while running with a random remembrance of an argument with the ex that happen at my grandmother’s funeral (well, just before going).  She was yelling at me that I needed to wear a suit.  Something I did not want to do nor was going to do.  She told me she would buy me one.  Do not need one (and thanks boss, for offering to bless me with a gift).  There is more, but why waste the words?

That memory could have spiraled from there, but distraction was found by refocusing on the audio-book playing.

Run completed, getting into the shower I started playing The Daily Stoic YouTube channel.  It talked about taking responsibility for your actions.  About how Marcus Aurelius wrote “this” had to happen to me, because it could not have happened to anyone else.

The memories flooded in:  divorce, bad divorce, bad person to marry, bad person to divorce, pandemic, part-time job, no insurance during said pandemic, loneliness, being alone, no where to go, locked inside, no money, lawyer charging my credit cards like I had rich parents that were footing the bill, and on and on and on.

Yet, The Daily Stoic sparked thoughts that maybe this all happened because I could handle it.  Because I would not let the bastards get me down.  That the universe saw in me something that said there needs to be balance and this person can handle it.  The thought of taking this pain from another and placing it on my shoulders seems egotistical.  Maybe spiritual or religious in some way, but I do not believe in those things.  What I do believe in is balance.  Yin and yang.  If you push on something it either breaks or does not.  Energy expands and contracts.

It is a belief in Eb and flow.  To think any of this was easy would be ridiculous. To think it was asked for would be insane.  To think of the long-lonely-hard-miserable-sad-nearly-breaking me moments of pulling myself off the ground, getting up and barely getting through the day can be paralyzing even now.  Yet, to take this on to spare another.  To keep another from feeling this and maybe not having the tools, friends, support, wonderful daughter, to get through this… okay.

Yesterday was harder than today. Tomorrow will be less hard today.  Each step a step forward.  Each moment continues to be another moment, which leads to another moment, which leads to another moment.  It is a series of moments and understanding and recognizing some of those moment will be good, some okay, some not okay, etc., etc. A roll of the dice. Sometimes in your favor.  Sometimes not.  That is why you keep getting up.  That is why you keep moving forward.  You never know what the next moment will bring.  Yet that is the exact reason to keep moving forward.

Who knows if any of this is true?  Who knows if this is just ego and hearing a philosophical quote in a moment of contemplation?  Who knows if this will change in a year, or a day, or an hour? 

Right now, life continues forward and currently feeling better.  Right now, those long, lonely days are a memory left for a past self that helped make the present self-better. 

We will take what we can get.  If it takes a little ego to create a scenario that helps to tell a story that gets us through, so be it.

A Vegan Father… creating stories of the past to make a better today.

Posted.  Not Perfect.

The gift to give my daughter is time.  There is no money trail.  No land to inherit.  No hand me down business.  Just time.  The irreplaceable, non-refundable, no pressure to take over commodity.

It will most likely be possible to write on my tombstone “ I wish I had spent more time with my daughter”.  Yet hopefully there will be an ellipsis… “but not by much”.

A Vegan Father, doing his best.

Posted. Not Perfect.

Healthy Food.

Healthy Sleep.

Healthy Choices.

Healthy LIfe.

Me – What’s that?

Daughter – This is my jug of water (lifts and shows me a gallon jug she has filled with water).

Me – Why for?

Daughter – For dumping out.

– Of course.

Freedom is written well. Though, that is not why it is a good read.  Freedom was an enjoyable read for what it asks of the reader.  Eye opening, insightful information from lived experience.  Freedom creates a format that makes it more digestible to the reader. 

Sebastian Junger writes Freedom as a series of explorations of concepts.  Concepts determined through insight and action.  At a point in life when packing a bag and taking a walk seems better than other options.  To set out and explore the world through mud, water, trains, and overpasses.

Starting Freedom there was no concept of why it was titled “Freedom”.  That was the first observation.  Books tend to feed you the why.  There is nothing wrong with that. It is a portal.  It creates an easy entry. 

Sebastian does not spoon feed you.  He asks you think.  Process.  He is not holding your hand.  Nor is he taking you with him.  He is sharing what he went through.  What he noticed.  What he remembers from his journey.  Then sprinkles in facts and information to help you understand.

These thoughts were in my head when the book was started.  The words were cloudy, nothing was grabbing me.  Why was this book was titled “Freedom” kept repeating? Most likely distracting from enjoying the first 14 pages. Then page 15.“The poor neighborhoods were easy to walk through because people would offer us water or ask if we were okay; in affluent areas they were more likely to call the cops.”  The first hint at understanding why “Freedom”.

“Our insignificance alongside so much energy even started to feel like its own form of freedom until we realized that everything we needed – food, clothes, gear – came from the very thing we thought we were outwitting” (p.33).  Its passages like this that start the path towards understanding Freedom.  In trying to determine and understand why “Freedom” Sebastian was doing the same thing.  This was the journey he was taking us through. Not the walk.  Not the mud, rain, trains, and overpasses.  That was his journey.  These, though, were the moments he could bring reads along.

“The idea that we can enjoy the benefits of society while owing nothing in return is literally infantile.  Only children owe nothing.”  Yet, we continue to compartmentalize more.  Sharing our thoughts, views, beliefs.  Sometimes with violence, anger, or groups that support us while excluding anyone that counters whatever we are spreading.  All while restricting access to our person. 

From personal experience the motivator of when not acting my best, or at least trying, came from fear, insecurity, and doubt.  It was an introverted nature that kept any real harm to myself or others.  It is happenstance and books that kept moments of weakness from becoming more destructive.  It was freedom that allowed these choices to be made vs giving up personal freedom to negatively impact another’s freedom.

This is not meant to discredit myself.  It is very possible better paths could have been taken.  That putting oneself out there can create all kinds of possible outcomes.  Yet, numerous books and documentaries have shown when people are down or weakened is when they are most susceptible to influence, to being taken advantage of.  It is when we are weakened that we seek to mask, cover, alleviate the pain.  We put our freedom at risk for the chance to ease whatever pain, or hurt is seeping in.

“Human violence reaches way back into our evolutionary past and is usually about the same things that are important to chimps: resources, territory, and sexual access to females” (p.83).  These are the moments that create thoughts around the concept of freedom.  Are we ever free if our motivations are controlled by base desires?  If we are chimps in clothes with less hair and cellphones, are we free?  If anything, we waste freedom on having too much choice. Thinking things through, being able to pause, to think and choose a better outcome.  All theoretical at best, if we continue to perpetuate our destructive base nature without a moment to not do as chimps do.

As Sebastian points out, we are never free.  We live in society needing, wanting, procuring, gathering objects unnecessary for survival.  Filling homes with stuff because evolution has created animals that are easily manipulated by shiny objects and cleverly written scripts.

Another feature of “Freedom” that Sebastian writes about is how we have obtained the freedom we claim to have.  He follows train tracks and writes about their history. Charles Carroll was the last surviving signatory of the Declaration of Independence.  “Carroll claimed to be the producer of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad than of the historic document he’d signed, believing that a national transportation system – coupled with America’s vast resources and almost unlimited immigrant and slave labor – could create the most powerful country on Earth.  He was right, but that vision required both a massive expansion of government as well as the wholesale violation of property rights.  It also required overlooking the moral outrage of slavery, which was an economic asset that the federal government was not yet willing to question” (p.70).

We are supposed to enjoy freedom, while negating how that freedom was and continues to be obtained.  Freedom obtained from feigned ignorance and justification is not really freedom.  The weight of what was stolen from others for personal gain can create a justification that only allows for so much sleep at night. 

All we have learned throughout history is we are willing and will continue the subjugation of others to justify individual desires, while claiming to be for the greater good.

Sebastian put a backpack on and followed train tracks, trudged through mud, slept in rain in a desire for freedom.  To be free he required the kindness of strangers and items made by others to survive.  He learned those with means had more to lose, so were less likely to reach a hand out.  Those with less, had less to lose and were more willing to offer help.  Or maybe those with less were relating to a need and were more sympathetic towards that need.

Freedom is a word like any other.  Just a word to say things, without ever thinking about the weight or true meaning of the word. Without thinking about how freedoms we have today were obtained.  How can one person talk about freedom, while their neighbor suffers.  Who is free in that scenario?

Freedom was a thought provoking, insightful read.  It was researched, containing multitudes of historical insights and facts calling into question how we enjoy the life we live today.  He offers no conclusions.  He does not pass judgement, nor nudge the reader to think one way or the other.  In that, he offers the freedom to draw your own conclusions.

A Vegan Father… reading to improve.

Posted. Not Perfect.