Three Words...

Three Words...

As I breathe in the aroma of my cologne (Comme De Garcons) I pause and think back on the month of quasi silence I imposed on myself via this blog.

In September I will be 39...

When I was 23 I wrote in a journal what and who I'd be at 39.

I'd be...

• wealthy.
• wise.
• established.
• a brand new family man.
• an owner of at least two homes (nothing fancy, just economically sound).
  
• a frequent renter of yachts.
• world traveled.
• newly married to an exotic brown beauty who spoke English with an accent and didn't get American culture.
• filled with peace, happiness and a simple, basic relationship with my God, regardless of the challenges hurled my way.
  
• happily focused on the years ahead of me having dispensed with all the ones behind me (most important of them all).
  

Almost everything I've ever written in this one particular journal has come to pass whether I actually remember writing it or not.

Almost none of the above came to pass, and that that has didn't in the fashion I imagined.

The only coincidence (in my thinking) seems to be that my father had me at the ripe old age of 39. Never wanting to have children at such an old age, I completely understand now the logic behind being an established man before an established father....

The 2nd Sunday in January, I went to church with a friend and her mother and cried through the entire service, especially the sermon. My heart was in pieces and my soul didn't understand why, my mind was sorting out logical answers and my emotions were all over the place --- sad, encouraged, furious, fearful. The only thing my spirit could do was cry and with my tears, poison dripped out of me.

What poison? You might be asking yourself. What in the hamfat is he talking about? Maybe he needs another month off?

I spent most of the last decade hearing from the people closest to me about how I was too...

• too sensitive...
• too emotional...
• too irritable...
• too immature...
• too selfish..
• too cranky...
• too moody...
• too detached...
• too cold...
• too dramatic...
• too sensitive...(I know I already wrote this)...
• too self-centered...

I won't debate the truth in the above. I am not the recipient of my actions, so I can't speak on how I'm received by others. But I didn't hear much else in the opposite direction. And a weird thing happened. I began to search for compliments, hunger for my ego to be stroked, get desperate for kind words, want accolades for the most basic of activities, such as doing what I'm supposed to do around the house and doing what I'm supposed to be doing with my kids. I even wonder if this blog evolved into a slight cry for approval from all of you, my loyal readers. Worst of all I began going over and above the call of duty seeking approval and getting upset when that didn't happen.

But if I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, even if I think it's to a superior degree, isn't it simply what I'm supposed to be doing? And why get a cookie for that?

I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. What a pickle.

As 2009, the worst year of the worst decade of my life, ended, I looked in the mirror and didn't know who I was and I hated what I had become. I hated talking about it on this blog (or not talking about it). I hated living it in my skin. I needed to step off, to find me, to rediscover me, to be at peace with me, even if that means being at war (or not at ease) with everyone else in the process...

So I stepped off, prayed for peace, sought quietude and began to reteach myself how to be me, and be a Man, Dad & Husband at the same time. It required and will continue to require the precision of a surgeon, the tactical savvy of a sergeant and the knowledge of an archeologist.

Interestingly enough, people in these positions typically utter three words to their teams when things get critical and it's time to get serious and roll up their sleeves.

And that's what I'm doing and will continue to do, God willing. So that by the time I hit 39 in September, you and I can all celebrate the beauty of life, the power of marriage, the strength of family, the prosperity that life has to offer despite it's bumps and bruises.

I'm going in because as I approach 40 I don't want to sit around patting my belly reminiscing about long gone days, never to be lived again. I want to be able to be all that I can for my family, my community and my country. And I'm dead serious. Because if I'm not living life to the fullest then I might as well be...dead. Better that than miserable.

Come along for the ride and I promise you'll have some fun along the way. Thanks for being patient in January. I only lost a few of you and I gained several more somehow with only 4 posts.

That's it for now. Tune in for more in the coming days.

Don't forget to contribute to the efforts in Haiti.


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