Not Knowing is Best... Sometimes

I know a lot of people, and well, consequently, a lot of people know me.. in sorts. Social obligations must be met, appearances must be kept, but what people don't know is who we really are! I mean behind the doors of our soul, when the lights are off and your covered to the neck in sheets and tears are running down your face for one reason or another because no one knows what's really going in your life and you have no one to turn to. This isn't to suggest that we aren't truthful about who we are in public, we're not "faking" our personalty or characteristics, but when people say, "hey, how's it going" they don't actually mean, "stop and tell me about your life" because most likely, they're dealing with their own crap! So it begs the question, how are we doing?

Well, I'll be one of the first to answer - not good. Not to be confused with the grammatical correctness of saying "not well" but truly not good. For my entire adult life I've been a classically broke american taxpayer. I had stable investments, equity in property, owned my own vehicles, traveled when we needed or wanted to but stayed pretty fiscally responsible with my expenses because I had very little cash. I remember the year I was making a 6 figure salary, how freeing that was. Never questioning my financial position, never having to tell my kids no when they wanted a small, deserving, something or another. It was wonderful. But in one falling swoop, and then some domino stuff, it was gone. I am no longer broke - I am officially poor. And quite frankly, it sucks.

I've maintained a steady income since I was 16 years. Sure I lived check to check from time to time but who hasn't. But on May 7, 2015 I was laid off from Forum Energy Technologies. I'll save the story of my accomplishments whilst there, suffice it to say there were a vast majority of people very surprised and disappointed I was gone. I remember the HR Manager Denise telling me, "Tim, you're sharp and have a strong resume, you'll be fine!" So why am I being laid off? Well here I am, 9 months later still unemployed, slowly becoming unemployable. My Checking account has been depleted, savings drained, 401k closed, investments sold, stocks cashed in, all the while moving in to a new home the January prior, so mostly likely losing my house sooner than later (personal speculation, no real threats to that affect have been made). To give an idea of what I mean, it took me 7 days to find enough change to buy a $6 light bulb for my wife's vehicle. Now, you may, at this point, think you've known most, maybe all of this, and you'd be right. I am not shy about my financial position, it is what it is... whatever that really means. But there's something you don't know.

2 years ago Thechive.com started a campaign called #RAKit (Random Acts of Kindness). It challenged, and encouraged, people to find moments in the day to commit random acts of kindness to perfect strangers. It started out as a bit of a game but by January of 2015 we had up'd the anti quite substantially. It's also safe to note that your perception of your surroundings change when this becomes a habit. It started as expected, helping people load vehicles when we'd see them, picking up trash cans that had blown in to the road, helping changed a flat on the side of the road or jump start a car. But in January of 2015 I was approached by a man in a parking lot who really got to me. His story was short and mere cents to eat was what he was asking for, at the time I was extremely skeptical, I still am, but not extremely. I gave him what I had in my pocket, a $10 bill. He thanked me, gave me a hug and said God would bless me... I won't elaborate on my psyche here. Moments later I see him sitting inside a Wendy's eating, I smiled. I committed, at that moment to help anyone who asked, in any way they asked, so long as it was in my power even if I didn't trust the person or the situation. It has been a wonderful experience. but the common theme with every homeless person I've met is they all thanked God for me helping them!!! An interesting association of gratitude to the unseen being of that scenario. But I never said otherwise. Even now, unemployed and with no money I still find opportunity's to help when and where I can. But at night, when no one is around, I wonder how I will take care of my own family. How will we pay for groceries, or gas or electricity? We have cut our finances down to the bare minimum, with the exception of our cell phones. I'm at the end of my rope. There's no cord left. It's been a cruel cruel time for me and my family. I can't let my family see me this way, it's not fair to them, it's not their fault. So I reach out to a computer screen and an emotionless keyboard and frantically type so as not to be found out.

Will this all pass? Yes. Will it be soon? No. Why am I going through this? I don't know.

The hardest thing about all of this is acceptance! Accepting that this is where I'm suppose to be for growth! As I type this, it's interesting to note that 3 people in America have won a 1.6 Billion Dollar powerball yielding approximately 528.2 million each before taxes. I wonder, were they going through this at the time of victory, it would be cool if they were. What elation they must feel! But what does one lose when they gain the world?

A Child's View on Intellect

I went on a job interview today. It was pretty entry level and as expected, I was deemed "over-qualified" for the position. The interviewer exclaimed, "I think you may be too smart, or maybe too professional for this position", laughing a bit. He was very polite and professional, we spoke a bit more about the down turn in the industry and the types of applicants he's seen. He thanked me for showing up and dressing well.

I returned home to my oldest demanding information about the appointment. I exclaimed to her that I was deemed "too smart" for the job. Baffled, Eden decided to test the theory. She said, "okay Daddy, if you're so smart, then what is 109 + 101?" I smiled, trying not to laugh, "210," I said. Now I'm almost laughing. Eden sat back in her bed, her eyes lifted and she remarked, with complete and utter impress, "wow Dad, you really are too smart!"

She went on to ask me a series of questions that she didn't know the answer to, but I continued to amaze... according to her.

I Showed My Vulnerability

My wife saw me cry. I couldn't think of any other way to start this post, there's no suspenseful way to build up that type of comment. However, the story that is involved seemed far too commonplace to cause such a reaction. It wasn't death, it wasn't tragedy nor anger, but love... of all things.

Khalil Gibran wrote of love, in his book "The Prophet":

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love. 

I've loved my wife since the day I met her. A day hasn't passed where I haven't told her I love her. Often times, in fact, most of the time, I assume my actions are examples of how much I love her, even the arguments! But 2 weeks ago we were having a conversation, the conversation turned passionate and I immediately realized, after 7 years of marriage I may have been asking the wrong questions, or saying the wrong things. I decided at that moment, I should not tell my wife I love her, rather, tell her what my love means, and what she means to me. As a professional egotist, explaining myself has always been quite simple... well, pride has a way of falling. See, I have always glowed in the positive moments, it's easy to love when things are going well. I seemingly only sought out loves Peace and Pleasure, forgoing the situations that allowed me to recognize and enjoy the Pleasures of love.

I walked my wife over to an arts and crafts table in our daughters' playroom. A sat across from her and before I could finish her name my vision became blurry - I felt my lips curl in an uncontrollable manor, and for the first time in my life, I stumbled, helplessly over my words. Completely and utterly incoherent, I knew, I was actually crying. My heart seemed to be travelling through my body trying to find the best place to pump blood, the chest cavity was just too far away. I felt the throbs of my heart in every extremity. I remember looking around frantically, attempting to affix my eye sight to something it could focus on - to no avail. I stopped talking...mumbling. I excused my actions by checking the time and trying a little laugh... I was crying again. I broke, I actually broke. My wife is the first person to see me cry in my adult life and it was she that broke me. 

In a moment, in a flash, I was vulnerable, exposed. I don't know if that will ever happen again, we've only spoken of it one time and as quickly as the topic came up, it went away, until now. I felt weak and helpless, I looked for strength within myself and for the first time in my adult life I found nothing more than a burning sensation resonating in my chest and throat. 

I've Never Done This Before

     I've never experienced death. At least not in this capacity. An hour ago, to the minute of this sentence, my Grandmother, Lydia Batiste, passed away. I confidently post this as my recent private life will most likely remain such. But yes, she's gone. I don't cry, not sure the reason. I seem to be able to tell jokes and remember the positive moments she brought to my life. My wife however, well, she's the sentimental one, I do hurt for her... and my mom and her 11 siblings. I, for some reason, have the burden of having the most unconventional view of death.

     I've kept the situation with my grandmother very quiet to the people in my life, of which there are few. But it is not within my right to burden their mindset with such things. How ever I may view death should be of no consequence to them. I learned, albeit not very quickly, that when someone asked about her - not to treat it as though it were a "none issue". But I also should be able to be honest right? So, yes! Death is natural, sickness is natural, death is something we all do, none can escape. I think it was Steve Jobs that said something about Death is Life's change agent, we all share it and no one has escaped it, or something to that effect. Yet, when it happens, everyone seems so surprised and at odds with life. I've questioned that for so long. Not that I think crying is the wrong thing to do, but... I don't know.

     On March 5, 2012 I posted an exert by Tecumseh, on Death.

...When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.

   

To Call Doucal's

Doucal's, maybe you've heard of them, maybe you haven't. Either way, they're certainly something to enjoy! I first encountered the company while travelling to New York. Albeit an impromptu discovery, I don't suspect I would turn a blind eye to any stylistic designer like this one no matter the venue of manifestation.

If you know my taste, then you know how I truly adore a full brogue (wing tip) shoe, however these offered something different! The shoes are Italian leather, which apparently is better than American Leather, because it's more expensive. The throat line of the shoe (bit between the toe area and where the laces begin) has been reduced to a single layer one piece design which yields a more supple feel and limits wrinkling over time!

The sole is wood, a classic Italian touch, with a vibram comfort outsole! With every step, with every halted stance, there's a favorable settling within the shoe, a brilliance even.

Here's the setback! Despite the elegant design, the slim, sleek patterns and the almost groovy detail medallion holing, the stitching is absolute rubbish! All the stitching is edge flesh, however, Doucal has saw fit to only edge flesh once! With a staggering price of $875, it's just sloppy! Another unfortunate result of this is sizing, again, all wrong. Salesperson said 43 EU, I own a plethora of 43 EU shoes, I ordered! Guess what? True size is a 44 EU soooo... yeah! Not happy! Unfortunately, bought on sale for much much less so all sales are final!

If you happen to wear a size 11, please let me know! I offer you these shoes for free! They're quite beautiful! 

Ragin Games 2013

It was the second individual competition of the year for me, but my first in my home town! If my nerves weren't teeming on middle C then I was as calm as a bomb.

I awoke with vigor and determination, it was the moment I walked through the doors of the prescribed venue that my hubris of recent accomplishments was met with the humility of everyone else's, I was alone in a world of what was soon to be pain.

Registration was simple and the National Anthem, sang by our very own Cupid (Bryson Bernard), a competitor in my division, was chilling; again half nerves half patriotism.

The first workout approached around 0930, Power Clean Ladder. Explained, you start at a desired weight and Power Clean incremental weights until you fail or complete the ladder. I selected the 175, 185, 195, 205 ladder. My previous personal record, hereto known as PR, was 185 some months prior. I knew I can lift the first 2 weights, the rest would be a bonus.

My judge was Ronis Correa, a local crossfitter, the strong silent type, emphasis on strong. He would only say 2 words to me before the lift, "Let's Go!" In almost a whisper, the silence that followed was comforting - encouraging. My first attempt was 175, I was so nervous, I held my breath for so long, I almost passed out after I lifted it, "well done" was a mere whisper I moved on to my PR (185). "Breathe, breathe, breathe" is all I could muster mentally, then I blinked and I had rested 185#'s on my shoulders. 195# and 205# came with ease (despite the look on my face from the photo above).

The competition moved on, bars were set, met and surpassed. All in all, it was a good day. Except for the bar jump over burpees! See below! They sucked and were not enjoyed by anyone.

Conversation

There is a back story to this conversation that without it would be lost in translation. I was sitting with Eden watching telly. In a moment of spontaneity, Eden asked me a question, the question was very innocent and had no inflection points. In that moment, I replied as though I were speaking to an adult. Eden's poise in the question was very mature, the question even more so, ergo, my response was penned on the same scale. Here it goes.

Eden: Daddy, is Santa real, or a fiction character for stories?

I didn't realize the gravitas of this query, so my response was as mundane as I thought the question was.

Me: No, Santa isn't real Eden. He's a fictional character used in stories, much like the Bubble Guppies and Dora. He's a fun character though, he makes people smile.

It was at this point I realized what was actually happening... actually

Eden: So who buys the gifts?

Couldn't back out now...

Me: Well, your family buys all the gifts, we wrap them and put them under the tree. You do enjoy it right?

Eden: I do enjoy it, but it all seems like trickery Daddy. I don't think I should tell the other kids about this. They think Santa is real. This will be our secret, ok?

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't on the verge of tears when she said this. I didn't have a response, so I congratulated her on her decision and agreed, it was indeed our little secret. I think she was more concerned with her sisters position on the matter.