What do losing and physical pain have in common? I posed this question a few hours ago and I was surprised not to see more responses. Last night I had something hit me. It hit me like it's been staring me in the face. I'm a loser. I've been a loser my whole life.
Now now now calm down. Hear me out. I'm not talking about that guy that lives in his mother's basement at an unspeakable age with no ambition or skill to contribute to society. I also don't mean that guy with no marketable personality or charm that just creeps around. You know. The stereotypical loser.
I mean that I have lost in so many things in my life over and over. Sometimes my losses were of my own doing. Sometimes other people contributed to my losses by being better than me, sabotaging me, or some other means. I have lost at just about everything I have ever done. I've lost over and over and over again at countless tasks and competitions. I've lost in relationships both personal and professional. I've lost in competitions as a child. I've lost in competitions at work as an adult. I've chosen the wrong job move and lost. I've made countless mistakes. I've lost, and from losing I have learned how to win.
When it comes to physical pain I love the hot iron scenario. When a parent turns on an iron to iron clothes very little about the iron changes. A small light may come on and it may steam if they are like me and always turn it on too hot to begin with. To a child the iron may simply seem to exist, neither in a "hot" or "cold" state. Surely a responsible parent would not leave a small child alone with an iron, most certainly not a hot iron. Let's pretend in this scenario that the child is mischievous and climbs really well. The parent can spend all the time in the world teaching this child that the iron is hot, but without actual life experience the child cannot fully comprehend or understand what that means. Yes yes yes tell a child "don't touch that" but all parents know that when you tell most children not to do something they are immediately plotting to do just that. When the parent isn't looking the child climbs up and badly burns themselves. The child learns. The hot iron is hot.
Most physical pain is like this. Often our bodies let us know when we are doing something that hurts. Yes there are always exceptions like chronic pain or illnesses that cause pain but those are not what i'm talking about. I'm talking about reactionary pain. "When I do this, I feel this," pain. This type of pain teaches us how to survive on this planet. It keeps us from seriously injuring ourselves by making a punishment correlation. We remember what hurts and we do it differently. Even when we work out and exercise we sometimes find that the method we are using or our "technique" is wrong because of what muscles are sore the next day.
Losing is just the same. I am who I am because I'm a loser. I've lost so many times, but with each loss has come a lesson. Sometimes the lesson is simply that I can't succeed in that field. Sometimes I'm able to look back at my mistakes and learn from them. I'm always able to be a stronger person because of them. Sometimes I take losing hard. That's because it isn't easy. Just like physical pain losing hurts. It hurts that basic self worth and pride that is held deep within the human heart. Most people learn more from losing than they ever do from winning. Winning is nice and necessary. If you never win in life the potential to grow to resent competition increases exponentially. Losing isn't fun, but it is as essential as our physical pain. It teaches us what not to do and how to do things better.
Neither of these experiences are complete without thought and contemplation. If a child touches the iron and burns themselves they are doomed to repeat it if they don't realize that their own actions burned them. The same parallel can be drawn with losing. Without reflection and analysis of why I've lost so much in my life I could never achieve any level of success. I'm a loser, sure, but I'm so much more than that. I learn from my mistakes. I learn when I get hurt. I learn when I lose. Most of all I apply everything I learn the next time I am confronted with a situation.
All there is left to ask is whether you could say the same about yourself.
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Friday, February 14, 2014
Anyone remember Joel before Brook... oh boy... I do.
When I was 21 I disconnected myself from most of my friends. By the time of my 21st birthday I had discovered that I needed around 1/3 of my income to barely survive, and I began spending the rest of it on frivolous things. As I was single and had nobody to shower with gifts, I simply spent the money on things for my civic or alcohol. I wasn't happy, pure and simple. I was downright miserable. At that point in my life I valued myself based on how many people loved me, or more specifically how much the woman I was with loved me. I didn't have a whole lot of self worth is what I'm saying.
I found myself spending upwards of $1,000 per month on alcohol for my "friends" and I and anyone who happened to come around. Any time that I wasn't working I was drinking. I drank more alcohol between January and May of that year than I have in the rest of my life hands down.
I kept hoping that in the right setting I would find the "girl of my dreams" and she would make it all better. I kept trying to change the world around me. Maybe in the right circumstances I could find her. Maybe if I try really hard She would just appear.
In April I started attending a class that opened my eyes a little bit, and it helped me to see that the problem was with me. I was broken. I didn't love myself. I couldn't let go of hate. Even after knowing all of this, I couldn't find the strength or the courage to open myself up and forgive myself and move on.
It all began to fall apart in May. My two roommates started bringing weed into the house (Something I said would cause me to have to move) and my heart began to feel heavier and heavier with guilt and shame. Even now I can feel the weight of all of it in my chest, so many years later.
One day, drunk out of my mind, I began to cry. Nothing spurred it on. I just couldn't take the weight of all of my self loathing and self destruction. I remember waking up the next day and talking to God for the first time in a long time. I sat on the sofa, alone in the house and told God what I needed. I apologized and admitted my weakness. I cried more, and finally I asked for one "simple" thing: Somebody to love.
I even went on to list qualities that to some seem frivolous, but were important.. It went something like this:
She should be shorter than me, with dark hair and light eyes. She should have an amazing sense of humor. She can't struggle with addictions because I have an amazing ability to fall into vices and I couldn't succeed in life if she does too. She has to understand that pizza making was more than a job to me. She has to be on board with the idea of me being around. a lot. She has to be forgiving because I'm sure to make mistakes. She Must be Sarcastic like me, and completely get my type of jokes. She has to be into cars and hopefully has a nice car that we can hang out and talk about(Yeah I know). Oh, and God... if she has a kid that wouldn't bother me in the least... you know I've always wanted kids...
She should be shorter than me, with dark hair and light eyes. She should have an amazing sense of humor. She can't struggle with addictions because I have an amazing ability to fall into vices and I couldn't succeed in life if she does too. She has to understand that pizza making was more than a job to me. She has to be on board with the idea of me being around. a lot. She has to be forgiving because I'm sure to make mistakes. She Must be Sarcastic like me, and completely get my type of jokes. She has to be into cars and hopefully has a nice car that we can hang out and talk about(Yeah I know). Oh, and God... if she has a kid that wouldn't bother me in the least... you know I've always wanted kids...
I didn't ask for her simply to make me happy, but also because I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to see the joy on someone's face when I made their day.
The next day at work I was introduced to our new assistant manager, Brook. We started talking about life and where we came from. I don't remember much, but I do remember going home and telling my roommate's girlfriend that I met a girl who was "Perfect" and that I was going to marry her.
As we got to know each other better Brook told me that she wasn't interested in a relationship or guys in general right now because she was still working on her. I respected that...sort of. I wanted to show her how awesome we could be together so I came up with an elaborate scheme... I'll invite her to Taco Bell after close. But wait... that's a lame date. Instead of that, how about I make it a group thing. So we started going to taco bell after close and eating sitting on the hood of someone's car. Eventually (And as expected) we became the only two nuts to go out there.
Every Friday night after close we would go to taco bell and hang out. Just the two of us. On nights that we didn't go to Taco Bell we texted or talked on the phone... all night. Some days I wouldn't text her or call her, you know just to not seem overzealous. On those nights she would message me on yahoo messenger.
Eventually she went to work for another Store and we began to talk on the phone a lot more. We still hung out on Fridays and even after she wrecked her car I would go pick her up and bring her to taco bell so we could hang out. I stopped drinking and moved in with my sister.
Finally I asked her on a date. We had known each other for a good while and I figured that if I was to avoid the friend zone I only had another month or two at best. I asked her to go see Harry Potter with me. When I got there, she was already in the theater and had bought her own ticket...Obviously this was not a date.
So I tried again. I believe it was IHOP. I got her to come hang out and eat a breakfast for dinner meal with me. When the server brought the check she asked for it to be separate.... Obviously not a date.
On the way home from that trip I figured I might as well spill the beans and tell her I had a thing for her. I waited for her response, and I began to run through how to react to rejection...
Then she said that she had a thing for me too...
So I asked why she kept not letting these outings be dates and she simply said that she didn't know that they were supposed to be dates....
Not long after we were a couple.
Soon we were engaged.
Before you know it we were married.
I thought I knew what I wanted when I asked for her.
but no list that I ever could have put together could have sent me a more perfect woman.
My Wife.
My lovely wife.
How would I get through this life without you?
You've given me so much more than you could ever know.
Because I know you, every thing in my life is better.
Today I remember how I changed not for you, or because of you, but simply by being around you.
You've shown me how to be a better person.
You've shared in this adventure called parenting that basically consumes my every thought.
I'm more proud of our accomplishments so far as parents than any other achievement in my life.
You've tolerated my hobbies, and even when they almost drove you nuts.
You've held me when I hurt inside, and you are one of the only people to have seen me at my weakest moments.
You are patient and kind and forgiving.
You never give up on me and you are always there to help me.
I have come so far because of your love.
I love you in a way that I never thought I could love another.
I asked God for a miracle
and he sent me you.
Happy Valentine's Day Brook.
...by the way I didn't spend money on a card this year :)
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
This is not some cry for help. This is the start of something. This is a revolution.
Brook and I made a commitment to each other in January of 2013. We decided that we were going to get our bodies the way we want them. We were going to work really hard for about a year and then we were going to try to have a second child. We purchased Insanity (a workout program), and many different foods to help us lose weight. We decided that the best way to go at it was to hit it hard. Both of us were ready. For the first time in our marriage we had both decided that no matter what happened we were going to finish this intense 60 day program.
On the first day we both were intensely tired and out of breath after the workout. Brook said "this time we are going to finish this" and she went to write on our chalk board. She wrote the words "Insanity 1/14/13! Suck it up and DO IT!" The second day found us both very exhausted but she seemed much more fatigued at the end than I was. This is not typical. generally when we do anything that is related to cardio I finish in much worse shape than she does. Together we helped each other off of the ground and we had a recovery shake each. On the third day is where the real fun begins. We started to work out and about five minutes in she was sitting on the ground and kept saying "I can't." These two words are not usually uttered by my wife or myself and I tried to convince her. I said "look at that board! Remember what you said about suck it up and do it!" My wonderful wife was in tears and said again "I can't."
Then, like she was just slapped in the back of the head, she looked up at me with big eyes and a seemingly renewed sense of energy and said something that would change my life in ways that I never thought one sentence could. Brook said "I haven't had my period in a while."
I didn't react as some of you may expect. I simply smiled and said nonchalantly "ya want me to go get a test?" Not too long after that I found out that I was due to be a father to a new little life. I didn't get overly excited or grateful. Instead of that I immediately began to fear. I was worried about how this unplanned pregnancy was going to affect my wife. I was worried about what kind of birth defects my child may have. I was fearful of the hardships that my baby would endure in this hateful destructive world. I then sank into true Joel mode. My life has been a big question, and i need to know the answers before I find out through experience. I research and read about everything. I don't like to be surprised by anything. I plan everything down to my conversations. I spend extra time in my day reviewing conversations and interactions with other people. I think "how could I have handled this situation better?" I spend countless hours at night wondering what people think about me. I worry and I worry and I worry until I fall asleep and then I dream about terrible things. I have these nightmares and these fears that I won't be a great this or that.
For 1 month things seemed fine, and then my wonderful wife began to bleed. I called Brian into work and left before he got there. I took Brook to the ER and they evaluated her. They determined that she had a problem with the placenta being pulled away from the uterine wall: Likely miscarriage unless she stayed on bed rest for a then undetermined amount of time. The next three days were very difficult. Brook and I had to work together. I took on the responsibilities of the house and I did everything in my power to keep brook laying on the sofa and comfortable. Not long after that Brook got cleared to return to her normally scheduled life.
At 5 months or so Brook and I were back in the hospital to get her checked out because she couldn't walk. The baby was pressing on her sciatic nerve and was causing some intense pain. After that situation was handled I spent a lot of time preparing myself to help my wife through the incoming bad news of a birth defect or even worse, a miscarriage. I began mentally getting ready to not be sad. Ready to be strong because that's who I am. That is who I have had to be for so long. I'm the strong one in my immediate family. I am the confident rock that everyone can call and talk to. I am the Stone that cannot be moved. I am the unbreakable wall that is always here. I am always here to help my friends, siblings, and even occasionally parents through any hardship or loss. All they have to do is call me to get my love, sympathy, or even my admittedly sometimes cold analysis of a situation that they are involved in. I speak truthfully and often without letting my emotions (or my filter) cloud my judgement. I was ready for anything. I was ready to assure Brook that it was nothing that we could have done. I was ready to let her cry on my shoulder. I was ready to love her and Anna through this hardship. Nothing could have prepared me for what was to come. Nothing could have prepared me for Molly Dean; not a thousand years of research, nor as many years hardening my heart to pain could have made me ready to receive the most breathtaking moment of my life to date.
3 am and we were awake. We were ready to leave at 4 am. We got to the hospital at 4:30 am. We were in the room by 4:45. Everything was going perfectly. Brook was prepped with an IV and leggings to prevent clots during surgery. I was given a gown to put on at the last minute. Brook was taken away from me to receive anesthesia. I was told that they would come get me before they started the surgery. Time started to pass... and pass... and fifteen minutes later someone came in and got me. They had already begun but had not been going for very long. I sat next to Brook and talked to her. We shared a calm conversation about life and after a long silence I asked "Which kid at the daycare is your favorite?" and she yelled "You can't pick favorites with BABIES!" That's when I heard it. It was the most terrifying beautiful sound I could imagine. Molly Dean began to cry. She was taken away from us to be cleaned and I was allowed to go see her. She had so much Hair but I couldn't believe how small she was. 6 lbs. 15 oz. and only 18 inches long.
But that isn't the amazing moment that I was talking about. That doesn't come even close.
About 10 minutes later I was allowed in the nursery with my child. Molly was lying naked on an incubation table. She was crying a bit, so as any father would do I went over to her and held her hand between by fore finger and my thumb and talked to her. I told her her name and welcomed her to the world. Amazingly when I began to speak she got quiet and "listened". That's when I felt a different feeling then ever in my life. I was...Perfect. Nothing was wrong. I was enveloped in the most amazing feeling of love and confidence that I had ever felt. I knew what I was doing and didn't have to think... I just needed to be there for her to give my love to her. If I stopped talking to her, she began to cry. If I let go of her finger she cried. I was even asked at one point to let her cry because she had fluid in her left lung and she needed to cry it out. For the first time in a long time I told someone who "knew more than me" no. I wasn't going to let my child cry because she was terrified. She needed her father. Molly needed me to be strong.
At first I thought that my whole life had been preparing me for that moment. For the past two months I have felt like this. I couldn't be more wrong. I think that the past 11 months have been preparing me for the rest of my life. In the past 11 months I think I was coming to this exact moment. This moment when I put down in writing how I have been surviving. I've been hanging on by a thread. I've been slipping from my family and friends. I've slipped away from myself. Worse of all I've slipped away from my faith. I believed that searching the world would give me the answers to the world's questions. I researched many different cultures for answers. I asked men and women. I read what men and women wrote. I was satisfied that I knew what the world is made of.
About two years ago I prayed, completely naked, before I got in the tub and asked God what was the reason for everything. I need answers! Please tell me that you are here and listening I "heard" two words "Ezekiel," and "Timothy." I talked to my father about this and he encouraged me to read both books of the Bible after telling me that Ezekiel translates to El Shaddai which means "The God who is more than enough"
I began reading Ezekiel and stopped because I was lazy and that wasn't my priority in life like I said it was.
As I've written this I used the words "I wasn't going to let my child cry because she was terrified. She needed her father. Molly needed me to be strong." Let me take a few of those words and change them up a bit. "He isn't going to let me be alone because I am terrified. I need a Father. I need him to be strong." I am not who he wants me to be. I am not what he wants me to be. I think I finally realize what I've been missing. Please pray for me. I'm giving in. Too much of this is in my heart to deny it now. Now it is written and I can re-read it if I need a reminder. Even when I'm alone, I'm not alone. Not Ever.
I titled this 2 months ago. I started writing it then and got 4 sentences in. A week and a half ago I wrote another sentence and deleted 3. This is all that's left of it. Everything after in the next paragraph.
For the past 3-4 years I have supposed to be finished in the transformation of my life. I felt as though I was on on track to be great. I was already on a path to greatness in my professional life, my Marriage, and in being a father. All I had to do was avoid a few obstacles and jump a few hurdles. Sounds simple right?
Yeah... Simple.
On the first day we both were intensely tired and out of breath after the workout. Brook said "this time we are going to finish this" and she went to write on our chalk board. She wrote the words "Insanity 1/14/13! Suck it up and DO IT!" The second day found us both very exhausted but she seemed much more fatigued at the end than I was. This is not typical. generally when we do anything that is related to cardio I finish in much worse shape than she does. Together we helped each other off of the ground and we had a recovery shake each. On the third day is where the real fun begins. We started to work out and about five minutes in she was sitting on the ground and kept saying "I can't." These two words are not usually uttered by my wife or myself and I tried to convince her. I said "look at that board! Remember what you said about suck it up and do it!" My wonderful wife was in tears and said again "I can't."
Then, like she was just slapped in the back of the head, she looked up at me with big eyes and a seemingly renewed sense of energy and said something that would change my life in ways that I never thought one sentence could. Brook said "I haven't had my period in a while."
I didn't react as some of you may expect. I simply smiled and said nonchalantly "ya want me to go get a test?" Not too long after that I found out that I was due to be a father to a new little life. I didn't get overly excited or grateful. Instead of that I immediately began to fear. I was worried about how this unplanned pregnancy was going to affect my wife. I was worried about what kind of birth defects my child may have. I was fearful of the hardships that my baby would endure in this hateful destructive world. I then sank into true Joel mode. My life has been a big question, and i need to know the answers before I find out through experience. I research and read about everything. I don't like to be surprised by anything. I plan everything down to my conversations. I spend extra time in my day reviewing conversations and interactions with other people. I think "how could I have handled this situation better?" I spend countless hours at night wondering what people think about me. I worry and I worry and I worry until I fall asleep and then I dream about terrible things. I have these nightmares and these fears that I won't be a great this or that.
For 1 month things seemed fine, and then my wonderful wife began to bleed. I called Brian into work and left before he got there. I took Brook to the ER and they evaluated her. They determined that she had a problem with the placenta being pulled away from the uterine wall: Likely miscarriage unless she stayed on bed rest for a then undetermined amount of time. The next three days were very difficult. Brook and I had to work together. I took on the responsibilities of the house and I did everything in my power to keep brook laying on the sofa and comfortable. Not long after that Brook got cleared to return to her normally scheduled life.
At 5 months or so Brook and I were back in the hospital to get her checked out because she couldn't walk. The baby was pressing on her sciatic nerve and was causing some intense pain. After that situation was handled I spent a lot of time preparing myself to help my wife through the incoming bad news of a birth defect or even worse, a miscarriage. I began mentally getting ready to not be sad. Ready to be strong because that's who I am. That is who I have had to be for so long. I'm the strong one in my immediate family. I am the confident rock that everyone can call and talk to. I am the Stone that cannot be moved. I am the unbreakable wall that is always here. I am always here to help my friends, siblings, and even occasionally parents through any hardship or loss. All they have to do is call me to get my love, sympathy, or even my admittedly sometimes cold analysis of a situation that they are involved in. I speak truthfully and often without letting my emotions (or my filter) cloud my judgement. I was ready for anything. I was ready to assure Brook that it was nothing that we could have done. I was ready to let her cry on my shoulder. I was ready to love her and Anna through this hardship. Nothing could have prepared me for what was to come. Nothing could have prepared me for Molly Dean; not a thousand years of research, nor as many years hardening my heart to pain could have made me ready to receive the most breathtaking moment of my life to date.
3 am and we were awake. We were ready to leave at 4 am. We got to the hospital at 4:30 am. We were in the room by 4:45. Everything was going perfectly. Brook was prepped with an IV and leggings to prevent clots during surgery. I was given a gown to put on at the last minute. Brook was taken away from me to receive anesthesia. I was told that they would come get me before they started the surgery. Time started to pass... and pass... and fifteen minutes later someone came in and got me. They had already begun but had not been going for very long. I sat next to Brook and talked to her. We shared a calm conversation about life and after a long silence I asked "Which kid at the daycare is your favorite?" and she yelled "You can't pick favorites with BABIES!" That's when I heard it. It was the most terrifying beautiful sound I could imagine. Molly Dean began to cry. She was taken away from us to be cleaned and I was allowed to go see her. She had so much Hair but I couldn't believe how small she was. 6 lbs. 15 oz. and only 18 inches long.
But that isn't the amazing moment that I was talking about. That doesn't come even close.
About 10 minutes later I was allowed in the nursery with my child. Molly was lying naked on an incubation table. She was crying a bit, so as any father would do I went over to her and held her hand between by fore finger and my thumb and talked to her. I told her her name and welcomed her to the world. Amazingly when I began to speak she got quiet and "listened". That's when I felt a different feeling then ever in my life. I was...Perfect. Nothing was wrong. I was enveloped in the most amazing feeling of love and confidence that I had ever felt. I knew what I was doing and didn't have to think... I just needed to be there for her to give my love to her. If I stopped talking to her, she began to cry. If I let go of her finger she cried. I was even asked at one point to let her cry because she had fluid in her left lung and she needed to cry it out. For the first time in a long time I told someone who "knew more than me" no. I wasn't going to let my child cry because she was terrified. She needed her father. Molly needed me to be strong.
At first I thought that my whole life had been preparing me for that moment. For the past two months I have felt like this. I couldn't be more wrong. I think that the past 11 months have been preparing me for the rest of my life. In the past 11 months I think I was coming to this exact moment. This moment when I put down in writing how I have been surviving. I've been hanging on by a thread. I've been slipping from my family and friends. I've slipped away from myself. Worse of all I've slipped away from my faith. I believed that searching the world would give me the answers to the world's questions. I researched many different cultures for answers. I asked men and women. I read what men and women wrote. I was satisfied that I knew what the world is made of.
About two years ago I prayed, completely naked, before I got in the tub and asked God what was the reason for everything. I need answers! Please tell me that you are here and listening I "heard" two words "Ezekiel," and "Timothy." I talked to my father about this and he encouraged me to read both books of the Bible after telling me that Ezekiel translates to El Shaddai which means "The God who is more than enough"
I began reading Ezekiel and stopped because I was lazy and that wasn't my priority in life like I said it was.
As I've written this I used the words "I wasn't going to let my child cry because she was terrified. She needed her father. Molly needed me to be strong." Let me take a few of those words and change them up a bit. "He isn't going to let me be alone because I am terrified. I need a Father. I need him to be strong." I am not who he wants me to be. I am not what he wants me to be. I think I finally realize what I've been missing. Please pray for me. I'm giving in. Too much of this is in my heart to deny it now. Now it is written and I can re-read it if I need a reminder. Even when I'm alone, I'm not alone. Not Ever.
I titled this 2 months ago. I started writing it then and got 4 sentences in. A week and a half ago I wrote another sentence and deleted 3. This is all that's left of it. Everything after in the next paragraph.
For the past 3-4 years I have supposed to be finished in the transformation of my life. I felt as though I was on on track to be great. I was already on a path to greatness in my professional life, my Marriage, and in being a father. All I had to do was avoid a few obstacles and jump a few hurdles. Sounds simple right?
Yeah... Simple.
Thursday, August 8, 2013
The Most Manly Man
Every day 3,609,708,194 male humans wake on this planet. We all have very different lives, but we are also similar in many many ways. Some awake to another in their bed, others wake by themselves. Some live a life of solitude, while others choose to live surrounded by others. Some work the fields of a farm, some work in an office, and some are even stay at home dads. Some may find themselves in a church 7 days a week, and some may find themselves in a bar room 7 nights a week, and some may even find themselves doing both! Some kill others, while still there are others who fight against this. Some Male humans find themselves embracing the love in the world, and some still find their place in hate. There is an endless amount of examples I could make here, but my opinion stands that no example is stronger than this: Some male humans decide to become men, while others stay boys for the remainder of their lives.
I don't assume that I know everything there is about being a man, so often I may quote another who I hold in high regards on the subject.
So often I hear the phrase "make a man out of (you, him)." What does this mean? Surely, as created in the Bible God did not create a little boy in a grown male body, but he created a man. Why do we need something to "Make a man out of us"? Society in America has very differing opinions on what differs a man from a boy. Some say the the loss of virginity creates the man. Some say that becoming a father creates the man. I have heard many things over the years that reportedly "make a man" but none so interesting as "Paying off your first financed obligation, that is when you can call yourself a man". There are infinite examples of this as well throughout history with rites of passage. Who is correct then?
1 Corinthians 13:11 states "When I was a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man I gave up childish ways."
This is a biblical example which illustrates that for a long time there has been an easy way to distinguish the difference in men and boys: mindset. There is an obvious difference to me, as a father, when I see someone who is pretending to be a daddy and one who genuinely cares and loves his children. A real father will set aside his wants and needs to provide a glorious life for his children, while teaching them how to be independent so they can grow strong and be well prepared when they leave the home. Somebody who is "playing house" may also provide for the child and his family to the best of his ability, but instead of preparing the child for life, he may either degrade the child's self esteem, look at his responsibilities as obligations forced upon him, or simply allow the child to be dependent upon him for everything. This "learned dependence" prevents the child from ever truly growing up, always calling home when faced with obstacles instead of facing them head on. This kind of father is crippling to have because not only do they not teach the skills that are necessary to survive in this world but they also determine their own self-worth from their children's dependence on them.
This is easily observed in fatherhood, but it also easy to distinguish the difference between boys and men when you analyze their approach to interpersonal relationships, especially romantic relationships. A boy will often approach a relationship in one of two ways: they will either think "what can I get from this person?" or "What does this person need/want from me?" To me, a man is one who approached interpersonal relationships as an opportunity to share his gifts, love, wisdom, and life with another human being. Relationships we have with ourselves, our children, other adults, and even the relationship we have with our pets are what shape us into better men if we let them.
"A man should be able to hear, and to bear, the worst that could be said of him"- Saul Bellow
Here Saul Bellow says two completely different things and he says them so eloquently that it took me a moment to realize. Any man should be able to hear the worst someone has to say about them and not let it enrage or anger himself, but if the man is truly a good man he should not have worry that something truly bad would be said of him. Living a loving life of integrity and honesty is the only way to accomplish this. Truly, who is more man, the male who hears the worst opinion of himself and goes about trying to change it through anger or arguments or violence, or the male who takes feedback from others and uses it to make him a better man. I believe that even the harshest criticism of one's character can be molded into a useful statement to help one grow.
"Ultimate Vulnerability. That's manliness"-Billy Sunday
Many times in society we see Manly men depicted as tough fighters and impossible to make cry statues of muscle, but in all honesty the physical body does not determine anything about a man's worthiness or success. How could we measure success? Is success the number of sexual partners we have had? Would a man measure his success by how rich or famous he is? How about being the most knowledgeable person in his social circle? What of the best fighter, surely that man is manly.
"Service to others is the Rent you pay for your room here on Earth."- Muhammad Ali
Muhammad Ali said that you have to serve others? The least humble boxer (that I know of) said that serving others is important... even more so he said that it is our "Rent" for our room on Earth. This man, who stepped into the boxing ring so many times over the course of his life and pummeled other men, even he realized that life is not just about who is the strongest or the toughest. Muhammad Ali saw that we are nothing without each other. If you never open your heart to the world and share your love and your gifts with the world with the hopes of making the world a better place then how do you expect anyone to call you successful? The word success is a word that for me invokes the thought of an ending. Success could be the end of a marathon or the end of a blog posting or it could mean accomplishing the greatest goal of your life, but doesn't that mean that you are completely done with that task? Success could be how you view your life's individual tasks, but isn't it better to view our lives as a whole? Truly we have all failed something in our lives once before. Does this make us successes or failures?
A successful man is by definition a man full of success, but how is that measured? How do you know when you are full? How do you know when you have canceled out all of your failures and become "Successful"?
You Can't.
Successful is a term created by humans to explain a state of being that is neither realistic or truly objective. You can only determine the level of one's success through the analysis of their lives compared to your own and in saying that you must understand that only you can truly judge yourself as successful or unsuccessful. Setting goals and accomplishing them are great things, but shaping your life to be a better man, One full of love, integrity, respect, selflessness, and vulnerability. Men, as I have discovered from examples in my life are imperfect by design.
The Most Manly Man- A tiny story about a man I admire
The most manly man I've ever known is one very dear to my heart. He signed up to fight for this country's freedom and though he never saw combat, I know he would have gladly laid down his life for me. This man married young and started a family very early. He worked every day that I can remember from my childhood and struggled to make sure that food was available to his family. His work eventually took a toll on him as he moved away from the man in his goals. Burdened by many things he altered his way of living completely. He sinned and it pulled his tiny family apart, and he hurt so many people in the process. He fell away from God and the church, and slowly he was becoming somebody who he never believed himself to be. This is not the part of the story that is significant though. You see, our failures do not define us. What defines us as men is the ability to accept our failures and move on, our ability to genuinely apologize and ask for forgiveness and make sure that this wouldn't happen again, our ability to learn from the failures and to help others learn from our failures, and our ability to forgive others who may have wronged us, but most importantly our ability to forgive ourselves for everything.
This man learned. This man apologized and forgave and he taught me so many things. This man is the most imperfect, vulnerable, loving, and honest man that I know. He isn't the best by a long shot, and he accepts that and every day he does his best to be the best child of God, husband, and father that he can be. He knows that we are not complete or successful until we have served the Lord and other people and are resting in God's Kingdom. My father, George Vogt IV, is one of the most amazing men I have ever known, and truly, I have learned so much from watching his failures... but not the failures themselves. I've learned from watching his reactions to all of his challenges in life. This man never gives up.
That's what it means to me to be a man: Integrity, Love, Compassion, Vulnerability, Service to others, Self acceptance and self love, and thinking about things in a manner which you put other's needs in your heart. These things are surely qualities neccesary to becoming a man, but truly the greatest aspect a man can have is a desire to be a better man than he was the day before and the Determination to make it happen.
I don't assume that I know everything there is about being a man, so often I may quote another who I hold in high regards on the subject.
So often I hear the phrase "make a man out of (you, him)." What does this mean? Surely, as created in the Bible God did not create a little boy in a grown male body, but he created a man. Why do we need something to "Make a man out of us"? Society in America has very differing opinions on what differs a man from a boy. Some say the the loss of virginity creates the man. Some say that becoming a father creates the man. I have heard many things over the years that reportedly "make a man" but none so interesting as "Paying off your first financed obligation, that is when you can call yourself a man". There are infinite examples of this as well throughout history with rites of passage. Who is correct then?
1 Corinthians 13:11 states "When I was a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man I gave up childish ways."
This is a biblical example which illustrates that for a long time there has been an easy way to distinguish the difference in men and boys: mindset. There is an obvious difference to me, as a father, when I see someone who is pretending to be a daddy and one who genuinely cares and loves his children. A real father will set aside his wants and needs to provide a glorious life for his children, while teaching them how to be independent so they can grow strong and be well prepared when they leave the home. Somebody who is "playing house" may also provide for the child and his family to the best of his ability, but instead of preparing the child for life, he may either degrade the child's self esteem, look at his responsibilities as obligations forced upon him, or simply allow the child to be dependent upon him for everything. This "learned dependence" prevents the child from ever truly growing up, always calling home when faced with obstacles instead of facing them head on. This kind of father is crippling to have because not only do they not teach the skills that are necessary to survive in this world but they also determine their own self-worth from their children's dependence on them.
This is easily observed in fatherhood, but it also easy to distinguish the difference between boys and men when you analyze their approach to interpersonal relationships, especially romantic relationships. A boy will often approach a relationship in one of two ways: they will either think "what can I get from this person?" or "What does this person need/want from me?" To me, a man is one who approached interpersonal relationships as an opportunity to share his gifts, love, wisdom, and life with another human being. Relationships we have with ourselves, our children, other adults, and even the relationship we have with our pets are what shape us into better men if we let them.
"A man should be able to hear, and to bear, the worst that could be said of him"- Saul Bellow
Here Saul Bellow says two completely different things and he says them so eloquently that it took me a moment to realize. Any man should be able to hear the worst someone has to say about them and not let it enrage or anger himself, but if the man is truly a good man he should not have worry that something truly bad would be said of him. Living a loving life of integrity and honesty is the only way to accomplish this. Truly, who is more man, the male who hears the worst opinion of himself and goes about trying to change it through anger or arguments or violence, or the male who takes feedback from others and uses it to make him a better man. I believe that even the harshest criticism of one's character can be molded into a useful statement to help one grow.
"Ultimate Vulnerability. That's manliness"-Billy Sunday
Many times in society we see Manly men depicted as tough fighters and impossible to make cry statues of muscle, but in all honesty the physical body does not determine anything about a man's worthiness or success. How could we measure success? Is success the number of sexual partners we have had? Would a man measure his success by how rich or famous he is? How about being the most knowledgeable person in his social circle? What of the best fighter, surely that man is manly.
"Service to others is the Rent you pay for your room here on Earth."- Muhammad Ali
Muhammad Ali said that you have to serve others? The least humble boxer (that I know of) said that serving others is important... even more so he said that it is our "Rent" for our room on Earth. This man, who stepped into the boxing ring so many times over the course of his life and pummeled other men, even he realized that life is not just about who is the strongest or the toughest. Muhammad Ali saw that we are nothing without each other. If you never open your heart to the world and share your love and your gifts with the world with the hopes of making the world a better place then how do you expect anyone to call you successful? The word success is a word that for me invokes the thought of an ending. Success could be the end of a marathon or the end of a blog posting or it could mean accomplishing the greatest goal of your life, but doesn't that mean that you are completely done with that task? Success could be how you view your life's individual tasks, but isn't it better to view our lives as a whole? Truly we have all failed something in our lives once before. Does this make us successes or failures?
A successful man is by definition a man full of success, but how is that measured? How do you know when you are full? How do you know when you have canceled out all of your failures and become "Successful"?
You Can't.
Successful is a term created by humans to explain a state of being that is neither realistic or truly objective. You can only determine the level of one's success through the analysis of their lives compared to your own and in saying that you must understand that only you can truly judge yourself as successful or unsuccessful. Setting goals and accomplishing them are great things, but shaping your life to be a better man, One full of love, integrity, respect, selflessness, and vulnerability. Men, as I have discovered from examples in my life are imperfect by design.
The Most Manly Man- A tiny story about a man I admire
The most manly man I've ever known is one very dear to my heart. He signed up to fight for this country's freedom and though he never saw combat, I know he would have gladly laid down his life for me. This man married young and started a family very early. He worked every day that I can remember from my childhood and struggled to make sure that food was available to his family. His work eventually took a toll on him as he moved away from the man in his goals. Burdened by many things he altered his way of living completely. He sinned and it pulled his tiny family apart, and he hurt so many people in the process. He fell away from God and the church, and slowly he was becoming somebody who he never believed himself to be. This is not the part of the story that is significant though. You see, our failures do not define us. What defines us as men is the ability to accept our failures and move on, our ability to genuinely apologize and ask for forgiveness and make sure that this wouldn't happen again, our ability to learn from the failures and to help others learn from our failures, and our ability to forgive others who may have wronged us, but most importantly our ability to forgive ourselves for everything.
This man learned. This man apologized and forgave and he taught me so many things. This man is the most imperfect, vulnerable, loving, and honest man that I know. He isn't the best by a long shot, and he accepts that and every day he does his best to be the best child of God, husband, and father that he can be. He knows that we are not complete or successful until we have served the Lord and other people and are resting in God's Kingdom. My father, George Vogt IV, is one of the most amazing men I have ever known, and truly, I have learned so much from watching his failures... but not the failures themselves. I've learned from watching his reactions to all of his challenges in life. This man never gives up.
That's what it means to me to be a man: Integrity, Love, Compassion, Vulnerability, Service to others, Self acceptance and self love, and thinking about things in a manner which you put other's needs in your heart. These things are surely qualities neccesary to becoming a man, but truly the greatest aspect a man can have is a desire to be a better man than he was the day before and the Determination to make it happen.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Kanesco and the Beast
The first memory of this beast was around age seven. As a young boy Kanesco found himself happy and content with his life. As he aged, he began to notice that the beast would appear everytime a happy situation arose. The beast affected all parts and areas of his life, from home to school and even stretching into his social life. Every single time that a smile was cracked or a laugh was to be had, there was the beast, frighte ing him.
Kanesco came from a lovely family and didnt quite understand what was going on in his life. "Why was this happening to me," he wondered "am I doomed to be miserable for Ll of eternity?"
Nobody else seemed to see the beast either. To everyone else Kanesco had always been a little strange, but not terribly unhappy or stressed. Nothing seemed too out of place, but for Kanesco the whole world was off just slightly... like being able to smell your favorite food so intensely that you can taste it, but you cant find the source of the smell. Happiness was all but blocked.
The beast could invade Kanesco's thoughts and dreams. It reminded him of his failure to find happiness over and over again. It made him relive his failed battles, and in these flashbacks the pain was threefold more intense than the original.
The beast had squared off many times with Kanesco. So many times that Kanesco had almost grown fond of the beast. He even thought of naming it, but no one word could capture the angst that the beast caused. He simply called it "the beast."
The very last time that the two met on the battlefield, Kanesco was left broken and scarred. He laid in his own blood for days before he finally found the strength to pick himself back up. He remembered it all very clearly: how every weapon he tried against the beast simply broke when it hit his skin. No sword could defeat the beast. No gun could scar it. No amount of force could move it. The beast simply existed to destroy happiness in Kanesco's life.
In his journies Kanesco encountered many people who helped him along his journey, but none more than the Blue People. They were a small group of people dedicated to serving others and spreading music through the world. The Blue People taught Kanesco how to fight. He fought in many battles alongside the Blue People and even led many charges himself. They accepted him as one of their own and honored him with the title "matters".
Knowing how to fight was nevef enough. Kanesco continued his search for a way to defeat the beast. Along the way he fell deathly ill with a disease. This disease threatened to end his life. There was a pounding in his heart, and a pain in his stomach. He was definately under a spell of some sort. But after a while, the caster of the spell was no longer happy with Kanesco and he was released, but being released had its consequences. Kanesco laid on the ground feeling as though there was one thousand pounds weighing him down. Through his struggles that day he realized that no matter what knocks him down, he will always get back up because he deserves it.
A while down the road Kanesco found himself struck by another spell, but this one, though intense, was never painful. He fell in love with the caster of the spell, River. She taught him many things about adapting his fighting style to match his opponent. River was wise beyond her years and had become a guardian of Princess Anabella. For this task she had to be able to adapt.
Every time the beast was fought, Kanesco seemed to understand the battle a little betted. He was beginning to take control once, when the Beast slammed him into the ground so hard that Kanesco felt his banes break.
Kanesco was just about to give up when a band of unusal characters came into his life and showed him that every problem has a solution if you are willing to look for it. They called themselves the Fantastic Four, but they obviously couldnt count... Ginger Snap seemed to be the leader of this rag tag bunch and he was joined by Mrs. DRTHEPOOKUMS, a green Man who never said his name, lynx, Greyscale, and many many others. The fantastic four showed Kanesco a way to defeat his beast. He got the idea as he fought alongside of them in the battle of yeast valley.
Never before had Kanesco spoken of the beast to anyone. He simply accepted that the other people involved in his journey would not understand. He raised his head up and started to talk about the Beast with peolle in his life. . He contacted people from every part of his life. He contacted his parents, DV and twelyo. He spoke with the Blue People. Kanesco spoke with River and even Princess Anabelle. Then finally he strategized with Ginger Snap and the Fantastic Four. Nobody had a solution, but they all had advice on howto handle different parts like the head, eyes, tail, possible weaknesses.
Kanesco planned and planned and finally realized what he had been doing wrong all of those years. He realized why no matter what he did, he could never defeat the beast.
Now all he had to do was talk it out with the people in his life.
"BEAST," Kanesco bellowed, "WHERE ARE YOU?"
In the distance he heard a thud, followed by another, then another, then a series of fast thuds growing louder and louder and faster and faster and in a mere matter of momentes the Beast stood in front of Kanesco and let out a terrifying roar that was so loud the its sound eclipsed even the pounding in Kanesco's heart.
There he stood. Alone on the battlefield. Facing impossible odds. Kanesco drew his sword and looked the beast square in the eye as he layed his sword on the ground. The beast once again let out a ferocious roar and Kanesco replied "yeah yeah, I heard ya."
Then, out of the woods walked the blue people and the Fantastic four. They were then joined by DV and twelyo and River and Anabelle. That is when Kanesco made eye contact with the Beast and said "i know why noone ever seemed to notice you now!"
"I know what you are, and It's ok!"
Just then Kanesco stretched his arms out and joined hands with the others and they embraced the beast in a peaceful hug. Sobbing, the Beast spoke no words, but shed many tears. He had not been defeated, for he never could be defeated. Kanesco had finally realized that the Beast was simply all of the things that he didnt like about himself. This allanifested into a beast that mad him constantly feel like he was underachieving. Through this beast Kanesco had grown into a strong Man and realized that he could only tame it but he could not destroy it, and he couldnt tame it without the help of his friends and family.
And yes Kanesco's adventures may have been inspired by a true story ;)
Thursday, March 7, 2013
On this 27th anniversary of my birth...
27 years and roughly 9 months ago a miracle started to happeninside of a young woman. A small life, quickly growing, something forbidden. A child between two unwed 18year olds from catholic families. It would have been so easy for them to make a decision not to have a child. They could have hidden the entire situation from their families. Ive been told that itwas never an option for them and for this I am grateful.
My parents and step parents made many sacrifices in their lives so I could have a better life. I since have grown. Today I am 27 years old and my life is a daily adventure. I wake up never knowing what my day will bring and I couldnt get enough of life.
I want to take a minute to thank you for loving me and nurturing me. Thank you for feeding me and showing me how to love and smile and laugh and how to be angry and sad and how to express myself with music. Thank you for reading to me and letting me read to you. Thank you for embracing my strange ways of thinking and even adopting some of my attitudes. Thank you for every time you helped me reach something. Thank you for every time you corrected me and taught me right from wrong. But most of all thank you for all of my siblings. Until I became a father I enjoyed being an older brother more than I have enjoyed anything in my life. I wasnt always the best brother but in teaching my siblings I learned so much about love and life. In being a brother I have had some of the most fantastic relationships that continue to grow every day. Thank you brothers and sisters for putting up with me and loving me. Thanks to my mother and father for having me and thank you to my step parents for continuing for putting up with me. Thanks parents for everything you have ever done for me. I love you all and I love my life.
My parents and step parents made many sacrifices in their lives so I could have a better life. I since have grown. Today I am 27 years old and my life is a daily adventure. I wake up never knowing what my day will bring and I couldnt get enough of life.
I want to take a minute to thank you for loving me and nurturing me. Thank you for feeding me and showing me how to love and smile and laugh and how to be angry and sad and how to express myself with music. Thank you for reading to me and letting me read to you. Thank you for embracing my strange ways of thinking and even adopting some of my attitudes. Thank you for every time you helped me reach something. Thank you for every time you corrected me and taught me right from wrong. But most of all thank you for all of my siblings. Until I became a father I enjoyed being an older brother more than I have enjoyed anything in my life. I wasnt always the best brother but in teaching my siblings I learned so much about love and life. In being a brother I have had some of the most fantastic relationships that continue to grow every day. Thank you brothers and sisters for putting up with me and loving me. Thanks to my mother and father for having me and thank you to my step parents for continuing for putting up with me. Thanks parents for everything you have ever done for me. I love you all and I love my life.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Anger is Like Puppy Poop... Trust me
Every day I ask myself a question. I ask it several times per day. Sometimes I catch myself asking this question out loud. I contemplate this question's answer over and over again. Occasionally the answer is "I don't know." Often the answer is "No. Not at all." The days when I forget the question to ask are they days when my anger and frustration control me instead of me managing my anger and frustration. When everything starts spinning out of control, and I just get swallowed by my darker side, I ask myself "Does this really change anything in my life? How important is this situation?"
My family recently adopted a four month old puppy and I have found that raising and training a puppy is much like managing anger. Allie (our puppy) is innocent. She will never lie to me, or try to do something to hurt me for personal gain. She does, however, have an incredible tendency to poop on my floor, which can really put a damper on a fun social situation. We have spent a week together now, and today was our first accident free day. It has been a fun filled week of Allie adjusting to us and us adjusting to Allie.
Training a puppy has taken patience and consitency, and we have only scratched the surface. Every hour has been a constant challenge of my patience and understanding. I have found myself paranoid at her every movement. Every time she sniffs the ground I get worried that she is going to drop me a little present in the kitchen. It was like that when I first tried to control my anger. I found myself giving up and giving in every time I had a loud angry outburst. I would go for a week without a worry in the world, and when I finally met my breaking point I would feel defeated. Every single moment was like walking on pins and needles. One wrong step could mean a lost friend, or lost respect.
After a while I realized that in giving my anger so much attention, I was giving it power to control my life. When the world came at me with its ferocious teeth bared, I looked inward first to see what my reaction would be instead of simply asking how important the situation is to my overall growth and development and responding appropriately. This is a very distinct difference that I feel I must reinforce as being greatly important. When I was living my life in a cautionary manner, and I was worried about how I may react in certain situations I found my life experience to be pretty bland. It would be as though you are driving a car and you had a feeling that you may crash. Even if you avoid the crash your heart is still racing long after the near-crash. Many people would be jumpy and may even look in the rear view mirrow to see what wreckage could have been. Now imagine that you know you are going to have that feeling every time you get behind the wheel... That is how I felt about life. It became much easier to hide in my house and play hours upon hours of video games than it was to go out and face the monster that lived in my heart.
Every day situations come about that test me. Sometimes I do well. Sometimes I do not. Sometimes a situation becomes more than I can handle, but often simply asking myself about the importance of the situation is enough to defuse the bomb.
Today was the first time in a long time that I truly lost myself for a few moments. I was at work and some things that I have constantly moved were in the wrong place for the (I don't know how many times... it feels like about 7,000,000 or so) time. Nobody was in my immediate vicinity and I exploded in a sea of anger. For about 15 seconds I said how I felt as i picked up the mess, and immediately felt ashamed. I realized how unimportant the situation was and Instead of remaining angry I trained everyone on the importance of things being in their places.
Asking myself this question has led to many improved days and nights, and even days like today when I do slip have been lessons to learn and remember. It isn't the times that I've slipped that matter but the times that I've succeeded. My own personal goal is not to fend off my anger like some wild tiger, nor do I want to cage the beast and have it suppressed and by all appearances calm and docile. For a novice caging a wild animal can only end with that wild animal exploding out of the cage.
My goal is to, through years of training, tame my anger and manage it so that it may live alongside me. Anger, like all emotions, can be used for good reasons when the situation is right. I can no more remove my anger than can I remove my heart.
Anger is like puppy poop. If you own a puppy, there will always be puppy poop. You can either train her to poop outside, or you can allow her do as she pleases and poop wherever she gets the urge. Either way it is never the puppy's fault if your house stinks... that responsibility falls on the owner.
My family recently adopted a four month old puppy and I have found that raising and training a puppy is much like managing anger. Allie (our puppy) is innocent. She will never lie to me, or try to do something to hurt me for personal gain. She does, however, have an incredible tendency to poop on my floor, which can really put a damper on a fun social situation. We have spent a week together now, and today was our first accident free day. It has been a fun filled week of Allie adjusting to us and us adjusting to Allie.
Training a puppy has taken patience and consitency, and we have only scratched the surface. Every hour has been a constant challenge of my patience and understanding. I have found myself paranoid at her every movement. Every time she sniffs the ground I get worried that she is going to drop me a little present in the kitchen. It was like that when I first tried to control my anger. I found myself giving up and giving in every time I had a loud angry outburst. I would go for a week without a worry in the world, and when I finally met my breaking point I would feel defeated. Every single moment was like walking on pins and needles. One wrong step could mean a lost friend, or lost respect.
After a while I realized that in giving my anger so much attention, I was giving it power to control my life. When the world came at me with its ferocious teeth bared, I looked inward first to see what my reaction would be instead of simply asking how important the situation is to my overall growth and development and responding appropriately. This is a very distinct difference that I feel I must reinforce as being greatly important. When I was living my life in a cautionary manner, and I was worried about how I may react in certain situations I found my life experience to be pretty bland. It would be as though you are driving a car and you had a feeling that you may crash. Even if you avoid the crash your heart is still racing long after the near-crash. Many people would be jumpy and may even look in the rear view mirrow to see what wreckage could have been. Now imagine that you know you are going to have that feeling every time you get behind the wheel... That is how I felt about life. It became much easier to hide in my house and play hours upon hours of video games than it was to go out and face the monster that lived in my heart.
Every day situations come about that test me. Sometimes I do well. Sometimes I do not. Sometimes a situation becomes more than I can handle, but often simply asking myself about the importance of the situation is enough to defuse the bomb.
Today was the first time in a long time that I truly lost myself for a few moments. I was at work and some things that I have constantly moved were in the wrong place for the (I don't know how many times... it feels like about 7,000,000 or so) time. Nobody was in my immediate vicinity and I exploded in a sea of anger. For about 15 seconds I said how I felt as i picked up the mess, and immediately felt ashamed. I realized how unimportant the situation was and Instead of remaining angry I trained everyone on the importance of things being in their places.
Asking myself this question has led to many improved days and nights, and even days like today when I do slip have been lessons to learn and remember. It isn't the times that I've slipped that matter but the times that I've succeeded. My own personal goal is not to fend off my anger like some wild tiger, nor do I want to cage the beast and have it suppressed and by all appearances calm and docile. For a novice caging a wild animal can only end with that wild animal exploding out of the cage.
My goal is to, through years of training, tame my anger and manage it so that it may live alongside me. Anger, like all emotions, can be used for good reasons when the situation is right. I can no more remove my anger than can I remove my heart.
Anger is like puppy poop. If you own a puppy, there will always be puppy poop. You can either train her to poop outside, or you can allow her do as she pleases and poop wherever she gets the urge. Either way it is never the puppy's fault if your house stinks... that responsibility falls on the owner.
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