From Problem to Miracle

Wednesday was just one of those days. You know, the kind that happen and you wonder, "Why?!" or "WTF?" It started out as sort of a bummer. I woke up late, had part of a cup of coffee, which is terrible, because I always need a whole cup or more. Then I went to work without breakfast, so I had a combination of chex-mix, and salted nuts, which got me through till lunch. But the work was piled high, so I worked through lunch, left a little late and raced home for an appointment. It was then that I found out the bad news. For the third, or maybe fourth time in the last twelve months, a high school student in my small town had committed suicide.

I'm a youth adviser for the high school kids in the local Unitarian Universalist church, and I immediately thought about the kids, who would be most affected. Then, I felt all my energy drain and I settled into a sort of mental and physical depression. My appointment was with a therapist, so I talked a bit about how this all felt, that didn't seem to be productive, so I switched topics to how my oldest kids had just experienced a break through in their relationship and our house was no longer a constant battle ground. After therapy, I brought my youngest son to his basketball practice, which was fun to watch, and then I went home and began to wonder about this rash of teen suicides we've been seeing.

So today, a full day has passed, and comments about this suicide have been planted on facebook, from them, conversations have grown, which have included insightful commentary as well as simple blame for society, or television, or bullying, and as I've watched this transpire, I've wondered what there is to say. So now I'm banging out a blog post on the topic, but just like yesterday, I still don't know what to say. I could try to talk about love, or inherent worth and dignity. I could try to talk about taking a breath and getting through the hard times, or how I've wanted to take my own life in the past. I could talk about all sorts of things, but somehow they all feel flat right now.

I think the problem is bigger than any of that. I think it is something that encompasses all of that. It is the air we breathe, the thing we're not really aware of. It lives in our community and our conversations. It breaths every time we look at someone and think, "wow I wish there was something to do, but they don't want to change. All we can do is feel sorry for that person," If we're really honest, isn't that last sentence a little more like, "I really feel sorry for that loser?" For the past day, I've been wondering what we are doing wrong? Why are our teens killing themselves? What is the source of their overwhelming stress, or their feelings of worthlessness, or shame, or lack of hope? Why can't they imagine a future that needs them and that they should live to experience? I've been asking these questions and it just occurred to me that maybe its because our society has a deficit of meaningful compassion. That people are so quick to say, "laugh, and the world laughs with you, but cry and you cry alone."

Last week my kids took a course in San Francisco and on the last day of the course, the parents were asked to come sit in another room and participate in what is called a parent coaching session. The coach asked for two volunteers, whose job would be to write what we said on two chalk boards. The first chalk board was to filled with parent statements about what we're worried about with regards to our kids. The second chalk board was what qualities a perfect parent has.

The first chalk board was filled with worries about things like our kids being lazy, or slovenly. About poor grades, or a lack of respect. About being argumentative, or defiant, or bullies. At some point, while we were calling out things that we are worried about, I gasped and realized that all of those worries are caused by our love for our children. So later that evening, when our kids came into the room with us, the leader asked if there were any parents who wanted to share something with their kids. I raised my hand and stood up. I took the microphone, looked at my kids and described how we had filled a chalk board with complaints and worries we share about our kids. I admitted that I had contributed heavily to the list. I said that some how some wires seem to have gotten crossed in my head and that while I was getting angry and being pedantic. While I was being frustrated and upset, complaining to my kids about their grades and telling them that they are being lazy. While I was hurling various insults, what I really meant to say was, "I LOVE YOU! I love you more than anything you could imagine. I would do anything for you. I want you to be safe and grow up to be happy people. I love you and I apologize for telling you instead that you that you are flawed and can never be enough." I stood there crying in front of fifty teenagers and all of their parents, and admitted how horribly I had failed to communicate what I meant.

I told them that they could count on me to remember how to say I love you and that they could count on me to look for how they are right, for how we could be a happy family, and how we could increase the love we all have for each other. I've had an increase of moments like that recently, but that one just flooded my mind and it makes me think that there may be something important in that story.

Maybe the important thing is actually a simple thing. I'll start by saying that today is the last day of Hanukkah, and yesterday, my little town was shook by tragedy. But Hanukkah is a time for miracles. So I submit that maybe a huge component of what we're doing wrong is simple to address. The most important thing that my kids taught me the other week, is that they aren't defined, nor is their value assessed by their grades. They are perfect, and my job is to see how great they are and encourage their greatness. This isn't always easy, and I've already failed countless times. But in the end, nothing great can be accomplished without lots of failure. So maybe our focus has been wrong, and that is why our kids feel hopeless. Maybe our job is not to direct them into a future where they'll have some 9-5 office job and bring home a good pay check. Maybe our job is to see them as miraculous and trust that a miracle always has a bright and inspiring future, which may be hard to imagine to an observer.

Maybe we need simply to give freely of our love and when we offer guidance or criticism, to offer that feedback from a place of love, rather than anger or frustration. Maybe we need to teach our kids that it is more important to help our fellow human beings than to be successful in business. Maybe we've been trying to solve a spiritual crisis with educational theory, and intellectual band aids.

A Long Haul...The Marathon

--by Mike Adams

I have not posted here in a long time now. If anyone wondered where I went or noticed the silence, I can assure you that I haven't lost interest, nor did I want to stop blogging. I love writing and being part of the GBE2 community. I've missed reading and commenting on posts. I've missed the incredible conversations we've had and the sense of community. But my absence has been and will continue to be necessary. Life has become difficult and I've been exerting the sum of my energy and concentration to take care of the most important things in my life: Tara, Rowan, Devin, and Mikalh.

A little background, several years ago, Tara began experiencing unexplained pain and when it didn't subside, she began seeking medical help. Over the course of time, the pain got worse and since then, she has been surviving chronic migraine headaches and almost constant bodily pain.

This past year, our medical bills have ascended a steep incline due to co-pays having doubled, prescription costs having doubled, a significant increase in the number of doctor visits, and an increase in the quantity of prescription drugs. Our monthly medical expenses hover around $1000. Let me be clear, we can't afford that. I don't bring home enough money to cover our medical, our mortgage, our food, our utilities  and our gas. My parents have generously been helping me to pay bills each month, but they can't do so for ever, and more importantly, being forty one years old, I have a personal need to take care of myself and my family without being constantly bailed out by my parents.

My ego has taken a beating, and my self esteem seems to have been trampled. I simply don't know know how to proceed, what to change, or where to start. I have avoided sitting in paralyzed fear, but my actions have produced little in terms of tangible results. I started a small business, MLAdams, which provides affordable computer maintenance services to small businesses and sole proprietors. I've began studying for additional computer certifications and I've studied both marketing and search engine optimization till late in the evening almost every night. I've pushed myself beyond what I had thought possible and I continue to push each day.

This sort of behavior is unusual for me. I tend to enjoy my time off and the way I enjoy it usually doesn't include much exertion, but because I love my family more than anything, I get up each day and I work hard. This beautiful family simply will not fail if I can prevent it.

The problem is that I feel I'm in an impossible position. My family needs me. They need me to be present, to be loving, to be tolerant and supportive. They need me to be available and to be compassionate. Simultaneously, they need me to earn enough money to cover our expenses. They need me to ensure that my wife's health is taken care of, to ensure that our mortgage, utility bills and food expenses are covered. They need more from me than I feel I have available. They need a me who is a workaholic breadwinner and another me, who is inspired, available and loving.

But as they said in the Highlander, there can be only one. So here I am, exhausted, sad, lonely, and afraid. I don't feel I have more to give, and because more is needed, I often feel like a failure. I am overwhelmed with what there is to accomplish, and I'm forgetful of important tasks that needs my attention. I trudge through life focusing on what is in front me, forgetting the things that lie on the periphery, and I am missing things that are sometimes really important. I'm tired, angry and frustrated. I'm difficult to get along with and my wife needs me to be happy. She needs me to get help with my emotional state and my attitude. I agree, I believe that I need those things, but I don't know how I'll afford it or when I'll seek it. My teeth need dental attention, and my back is tied up in knots. Both are the result of a bicycle injury from twenty years ago. I live with a constant headache and I'm physically, emotionally and spiritually exhausted.

But none of that compares to the pain that my wife has to endure, so I try my best to ignore whats going wrong with me, because I have to keep going. My family needs me to keep going.

So tonight, I decided to take a break from my professional life and share with you what is going on, so that I don't feel that I'm doing it alone, so that maybe, I can capture some perspective and bring that with me as I continue to trudge this portion of life's path. I know "this too shall pass" and I know if I, and my family can come through this difficult time, we'll be alright...probably even great. So that is my goal.

To me, this is like that part of the marathon, where the runner just wants to give up, where they can't imagine running even one more mile. Some quit, but others just keep going and before they know it, they're crossing the finish line.


That is where I am right now, where my family is, and from what I can tell, where our nation is too. We're all at mile eighteen and there are eight more long miles to run. Our legs are weak and burning, our sides are cramped, we're gasping for breath and we can barely take even one more step. We keep eyeing the curb or the shade of a tree and thinking how easy it would be to collapse there and rest. Forget the race, we'll just walk home later, alone. To keep running is too painful. We need to remember, this is not the time to stop. We're not at the finish line yet, and we didn't set out to run part of a marathon. This is simply not the time for us to quit. Rather it is time to dig deep and find resources we never knew we had. It is time to remember why we entered this race in the first place. It is time to push ourselves through to the finish line. Even if we're the last runners on the course and no one is waiting at the finish, none of that matters, because even if the finish line is deserted and all cleaned up, our prize WILL be there. That is the perspective I'm going to take.

So along those lines, I'll say, Tara, I love you with my whole heart and my whole being. I know we can and will be happy if we can get through this tough time. I know I am tired and irritable and intimidating. I am trying to figure out how to address those things and I will find a way to succeed, I promise.

To Rowan and Devin and Mikalh, I'm so sorry for the lack of patience I've had with you and I'm apologizing now for the inescapable times I'll have a complete lack of patience with you in the near future. This is not the person I want to be and I am trying to become better. Please remember that I love you completely...I love you more than you can imagine.

Everyone, please forgive me for my arrogance, my short temper and my sometimes dismissive attitude. I never meant to hurt you and I'm working to do better. Please know also, that I do and will forgive you for what ever there is that I should. Not because I'm some great person. I assure you I am not, but simply because we are family and that is what family does, when they love each other, they forgive!

I love you all!