Action and reaction

Today, a total random incident which provoked a serious thought: In the course of my normal work environment interaction, I responded to a coworker with what is often my satirical dry wit at my place of employment. Her reaction was less enthusiastic. Then, later in the day, I reacted in a calm, pleasant, positive manner, and got a distinctly different reaction.

This led to another thought: how am I interacting with everyone around me? How am I interacting with the Ravishing Mrs. TB? Is it as an adult, or do I still act and react according to a behaviour or maturity level that used to work for me, and I still believe it does?

The question is not an idle one. If much of an individual's response to me is how I present myself to them, and I am presenting myself to them in a way that gets the responses that I have always gotten, and therefore associate with "Okay", is it real or am I just continuing to play music off an 8 Track in an MP3 world and thinking the sound quality is great?

In speaking with Bogha frois about this issue tonight, I hypothesized that it was a question of behaviour and maturity, that one could change one's maturity and have a modified for of behavior, or not change behaviour and maturity. Bogha frois disagreed, presenting a couple of example where if the maturity level did not change, the behavior did not change, but instead got transmuted into age appropriate situations - boys who love toy cars have real, large, expensive toy cars; girls who loved to gossip about others in their social circle of friends becoming women (homemakers or professionals) who loved to gossip about others.

I think the jury is still out for me on this, as I can see both sides: there are forms of behavior I have changed as my situation has changed and I have matured, but are still recognizable echoes of myself (but are they good), and there are behaviors that have stuck with me all these years, as they have transformed with my life and situations (oddly enough, mostly bad habits).

If I interact with the Ravishing Mrs. TB as I interacted with her as a girlfriend and newlywed, I am not likely to get the same response as if I examined my level of maturity and changed my behavior to act accordingly. One example is that while I think that the help that I give around the house is a demonstration of my love, or being "hopelessly romantic" in hopes of getting my way, a more practical method might be to do the things that it is evident need to be done, but that she has not been able to do - the things I selfishly don't like to do, like paint, or trim bushes, or put laundry away. This represents a maturity level - moving out of my self-centeredness - and resulting in a change in my behaviour.

I'll continue to think about it. Odd how a single incident can prompt such a string of thoughts.

Quiet Space

An evening where I felt quiet. Not for any reason that I can divine - often times these are brought on by depression or sadness, but neither of these things am I consciously aware of.

But you come home and you have quiet space - not feeling the need to communicate, not feeling the need to participate, just feeling the need to be solitary inside - "as an oyster", as Dickens said of Scrooge.

Perhaps it is an unconscious thing, a realization underneath that something has occurred which is great import, but is not recognized as such by your mind (if it happened today, I've no idea what it was). Oftentimes my own mind will run off on tangents, places I have no idea where it is going, because it sees a thought or connection it needs to complete to make sense.

I'm not sure - all I know is that tonight, there is quiet space within me, that vaguely ominous feeling that something occurred and I missed it.

And, unfortunately, the silence doesn't speak of its own accord....

Da Derga

I was going to write about something today, but now I'll write about something else.

It will surprise those who know me over the last 5-10 years that prior to then, I had a very different life. Some of it you know, in part: college professor, teacher, retail worker extraodinaire, water and coffee exporter, dreamer. The part you probably don't know is that at one time, I had a musical career.

Da Derga, the fabulous harp/vocal/bodhran group of Toirdhealbheach Beucail and Cleasiche fionnadh, which existed form 1994 -1995. We did music from all six of the Celtic Countries (Yes, as a side note, I play the harp - but not as well as I used to, probably part of the problem). We did shows, we sang in both English and in Celtic tongues (Toirdhealbheach Beucail is actually Old Gaelic for "Booming, Thundering, Roaring X" [X, of course, being my real name], in the sense of a roaring or booming cannon, which if you know me, know this is true: I'm loud!). I played the harp, and Cleasiche fionnadh sang and played the bodhran.

Why do I puzzle this now? Because it was something I loved to do. I practiced every day, I walked around muttering obscure languages, I actually got paid for playing!

Why do I write this? Because we made a decision at some point: tour or stop. Essentially, I entered the work force, moved to the South Bay, and got "A real job". Do I regret this? No, in many ways - that job, and the jobs that have resulted from it, have enabled me to travel, to support myself and my family, and given me greater income opportunities that I would have otherwise believed.

But still there is a part of me, the lyrical, musical, fantasy part, that was turned away that day - and is powerful. How do I connect that part with the reality of today?

Why didn't the chicken cross the road?

The Ravishing Mrs. TB and myself went away for the weekend to the South Bay - just us, no kids. It was remarkable - we talked about our lives, and where we wanted to go; we ate meals and didn't fight over eating or sharing crayons - in one event, we just appetizers and dessert for dinner, and lingered over our meal for two hours!; we shopped without chasing kids under the clothing racks.

We even lingered in bookstores.

At which, for the first time in almost a year, I purchased a book from a bookstore- and a book just based on my review of it in the store: The Little Platinum Book of Cha-Ching! by Jeffrey Gitomer.

But all vacations must end. I felt myself tensing up as we got closer to home, and Mrs. TB was doing the same. For myself, it was the dread of work coming towards me.

In reading my new book, one of the author's points is that you have to believe in yourself and your product to sell it. If I am my product, do I believe in myself? Do I present that way?

This prompted me to review my CV, and having seen a lot of CVs lately, I can tell you that mine looked like everyone else's: each job, dates, name of company, followed by the summary description of what I did (which looked like the previous one) in order to build a "history" of experience.

Blah. The darn thing looks blah. I wouldn't hire me - and I'm stuck with me.

Jobs? Not a problem, no matter my own perception and excuses. On a job website for my industry, 8 pages of jobs under a version of what I currently do.

(Start Aside)

On a side note (and worthy of discussion at a later time) is that pessimists tend to be pessimistic (in other news, Sun rises in East. News at 11). People thrive physically, spiritually, and financially in all circumstances, including potentially bad economic ones. Instead of looking at the headlight of the oncoming train and thinking "Hmmm, that looks weird", shouldn't you at least get off the track?

(End Aside)

I have set my sights too low, settled for what I could get without struggle rather than tried to see how far I can reach. There is a brave new world in my industry, and I'm stuck in the 1980's - because I choose to remain there.

Why didn't the chicken cross the road?

Because who knows what's on the other side.

Talking to your wife

I realized the other day the my conversations with the Ravishing Mrs. TB are not near to the level of my interactions with other females I interact with, primarily through my job. Why is this, I wondered? It's not as if I have any more personal relationship that that with my wife, nor that one more enduring (think about it - how many coworkers do you work with in a lifetime?)

Is it the intellectual "content" of the conversations? Perhaps - but tell me how the discussion of matters that don't matter in five years is somehow "intellectual".

A two part problem, perhaps, one caused both by the habit of not talking to each other due to schedules to the point you feel you have nothing to speak about once the basics of communication are complete.

The other is a direct failure on my own part: how much do I seek to truly cultivate the art of conversation with my wife? How much do I seek to discuss with her matters of import to me, or matters of interest to her? How much do I eek to engage directly in the issues of the date and the future? How much do I share about myself?

How come this list seems to focus on my own shortcomings?

Probably because they are so manifest...

God getting your attention

God got my attention yesterday:

1) I got an e-mail from at work indicating that I was the holdup on a major project at work. Senior management was carbon copied on the e-mail.

I felt like being two steps away from screaming "I quit". I know why it was done - someone needed the item taken care off, and chose to go this route to get it done.

I was angry because already that day I had been doing things to support clients - getting documentation into order to support projects, catching up on old projects, etc. My reward: You're the roadblock.

I came home and spent an hour at night ensuring that everything was in order, dreading the thought as I did it "You missed X" - but it could not afford not to be done.

I get angry just writing about it.

But did it serve me well? What did I desire, what was I denied?

Respect. Acknowledgement - indeed, worship. validation. To be seen as respected - not treated as recalcitrant.

I struggled today with going in, being Christlike, not showing anger, meeting everyones' requests humbly, not asking for recognition.

I hate it. I want to be respected and desired so badly, I could cry

Finding a Life

Coming to work this morning, I could just sense myself coming down. I need to find a new career field.

I asked both the Ravishing Mrs. TB as well as Bogha frois what they could picture me doing. The Ravishing Mrs. TB said she could picture me doing a lot of things - farming, writing - but they wouldn't make a living. Bogha frois asked me a couple of thought questions - Make an impact on a few vs. making impact on many; would what I'm doing matter if it was making a major contribution in the industry I'm in versus what I doing in the industry now (not making a major contribution) - and said she'd get back to me.

I hunger for something that has impact and effect, something I can look back on and feel I made impact for good - not just a job, but a calling

Depression

Another one of those days - the kind where you sort of collapse at the end of the day, worn out, not seeing anything but more of the same tomorrow.

I don't know what causes it - is it the onset of fall, is it the ordinariness of one's life, is it the feeling of no control over one's circumstanced? I cannot fully answer, perhaps all. All I know is that dark curtain called depression has returned.

And no, for those of you wondering, merely "changing your thoughts" is not enough...

They are different than they used to be - not nearly as black, not nearly as depressing. More of a general malaise, a feeling of futility, that nothing will change and nothing will improve and good heavens, here's the five bad things that will happen tomorrow and now let's extrapolate about how those five bad things will spin into five worse things and scar you for life....

And so it goes...depression as a James Joyce novel...

It will pass - they always do, and the singular light of God's presence will return. I suppose one could make the argument that the darkness makes the stars brighter - although, I would hasten to add that this is generally said by people in their nice warm lighted houses looking out the window....

....not by those in the howling darkness.

Making Decisions

I had a consulting appointment for a personal coach which turned out not as all like I had planned.

I had my phone conference with a project manager, after my initial screening. It went as I had expected: challenging, focus, look to the future. We then got down to brass tacks: the promises to me, expectations of me, and, of course, the finances - about $3300 for a 5 month session. We then got to closing the deal: the credit card number ("We recommend people use a line of credit so they can pay it off a little at a time"). I was honest with the project manager - I wanted to ask my parents for the money as a loan. We agreed to talk on Monday.

I was unsettled when I left for work. I called Bogha frois to talk about it. Her thought was that price someone else, see what the reates were - in essence, do more research.

It hit me during the day that I had been heavily sold that morning. Looking back, I could track it: what were my wants, look to the future (to what could be done), the challenge, the buy-in from me, the extension of the offer (like getting into an exclusive clb), the promises to me, the commitment ("What would it take to move you from a 7 to a 10 of commitment?"), and then the request for the sale. Only by the grace of God did I not go further, just because it cost a little too much to finance.

And then, I felt used. Icky, I described it. Like an incident long ago, where I was used by someone else. I felt dirty and unclean.

Why? Because I fell for it. I can see it now, but I still allowed myself to be sold.

Which lead into an interesting discussion with Bogha frois about decisions, good and bad. There are decisions I have made that were bad, but I clung to them - rode them down the rails to their bitter end - and usually regretted them. Theere other ones which did not have the same sense of "DECISION", that were not that difficult, that turned out fine.

What was the difference? I'm not sure - Bogha frois thought it was pride, that one worked one's self up to a diecision where one usually would not, and once one was decided, one was damn well going to follow through, because decisions were difficult, and one shouldn't listen to one's fears - even when they lead one nowhere. To turn aside, to adimit one wasn't ready, to go back requires humility.

I wrote in my journal that I need to ponder this more. How is the process of making decisions different between the two senses that I described? How can I engage in more of the decisions made not from pride, but from humility?

The Inner Critic

I was speaking today with Bogha Frois on the way home today. She said she had intended to comment on the blog, but she wrote and unwrote a comment four times, finally not commenting at all. I asked her why, she said didn't think she put the words together right. I gently nudged her about the inner critic, and why did she let it get in the way.

From here we had a fruitful discussion about the inner critic. The thing that came out of our discussion was that the inner critic can become real not only from those who we have long associations with (often family) as we come to accept the folibles and lackings of those we honor and love, but (I think) more often from our friends and acquaintances, those whom we engage with as equals, whom we develop relationships with and give advice to and take advice from. What happens when those whose opinions we value react badly to heartfelt dreams or advice which we give with the best intentions.

I say this struggling with it myself - even in writing, I so fail to write at all - or speak at all - because I don't think things are good enough or make enough sense. But what am I critical of?

And is it I, or the voices of others long gone, whose only power only now lies in their ability to self-censor myself

Sin

How do I continue to cling to sin in my life?

Sometines I feel that I am in a state of stasis: not shedding my sin, but maybe not collecting "new ones" either. Some just seem to bubble to the surface, like anger or language. Some are always there, like sloth or lust. Some (by the grace of God) I seem to get a handle on, like covetousness or greed.

How is this? How is it determined?

Is it something that I do? Could I forsake more of my sin if I walked closer to God, confessed my sin, and tried harder?

Is it something that God is doing, working through them in a pattern random to me but sensible to Him?

Am I what is holding back becoming more like the Lord Jesus through my lack of dedication and sinfulness? If so, how can I more completely deal with my sin?

Winterizing the Bees

The Bees - the one colony that survived the summer - is now set (as far as I can make them) for the winter. This was not a stellar year - of the three colonies (one overwintered, two purchased, plus a new queen) only one survived - either Minnesota Hygenic or Carniolan, I'm not sure.

This year we did everything we knew to do: serviced for varroa mites, prepared winter syrup, placed a pollen patty in for extra nutrition, treated for foulbrood, and (of course) buttoned up the entrance to the smallest hole. I know not what else to do.

Next year I'm planning to order another three hives - if the overwinter one survives, so much the better, we just have to get another hive. That's okay. This is a hobby which, by failing, I seem to be getting sucked into more.

I love beekeeping!

The Future

Nighean gheal and I had a brief interesting dicussion on the future. It began when nighean bhan asked what a fortune teller was. I told her it was someone who purported to tell the future, and that we, as Christians and followers of Jesus, were not to engage in such practices (Deuteronomy 18: 9-14, Isaiah 8: 18-19). Only God knows the future, I told her.

Then nighean gheal said "Sometimes I think that the future won't be good." I responded "Yes, but we know God is there through it. He says He will always be with us." "I'll try and remember that" she said, and then we had moved on.

Good enough, and I hope she does - but do I?

I get terribly upset and concerned about things over which I have no control. I worry about the future world of my children. But do I account for God in the future? Do I try and remember that?

Depression

I apologize for the absence, but have been fighting a deep depression over the last two weeks.

Partially, I think it's due to the fact that I have let work get out of control. My associate leaving has created a work load to be distributed between myself and one other. Looking at the piles depressed me, depressing me caused the work to seem even larger, and what I accomplished even more insignificant.

This then feeds into the equation of feeling that one's life is being wasted. What am I truly accomplishing (in the big picture) by doing what I do? I don't save lives, I don't convert souls, I don't truly feel like I am contributing anything, that I am a little person performing useless tasks which will have no meaning 10 years hence, let alone 100.

And then I more depressed, and then I eat (using food as the one thing I can control), and then I get more depressed.

So I cried and yelled at God. Alot. Then I fasted today, and prayed that God would help me see some hope.

Did anything drastic change? No. We had a nice birthday dinner for nighean bhan, she went to AB, nighean gheal stayed home watching a movie (she felt ill - probably too much sugar and fat), and nighean dhonn got read and went to bed. Nothing earthshattering I fear - except the knowledge that this is what I have been given - and certainly the lives (and spiritual destinies) of my children and my wife will last far beyond 100 years - eternally, in fact.

So thankful none the less - and hopeful to boot!

Seed Day

I received my seeds in the mail yesterday - 2 kinds of broccoli, cabbage, leeks, and an ancient (low gluten) wheat.

It is odd how something relatively simple (and cheap) can give a person so much pleasure. The cost was under $10.00. The anticipation of what I can do with them is, as they say, priceless.

The lesson here, I think, is that cost never total equals enjoyment - or usefulness. Done right, these seeds will lower some of our food costs, and be another sample of doing something which directly contibutes to my family - which makes me feel good.

And the challenges which come from there - planting early, doing my composting better, trying different amendments to the garden (not always successfully, I'll add) - give me pleasurable work, far removed from that which seemingly grabs so much of my time now.

Driving to Work

Traffic to work has seemingly been getting worse - it takes a fully 90 -100 minutes to get to work, where previously it took 80-85 minutes. The worst part of it is simply the fact that I don't look forward to the arrival.

It hit me this morning that this is an intolerable thing. I recall doing The Firm, and in that, for all the things I didn't like, I can honestly say I actually anticipated going to work in the morning. E fhein still does that line of work, and I can guarantee you that with all the problems inherent in that line of work, he still looks foward to doing it every day.

And, said a very wise man, you can't be truly successful in a career you don't love.

I'm mulling this over. As I think I've said before, part of what keeps me from truly pursuing a new position is the sense that if I go somewhere else, the situation will become the same in about two years - my average stay in a job in this industry.

What would make me want to get up to go to work in the morning? What makes me get up now with excitement when I don't have to work? If I could hone and focus that, therein probably lies my answer.

Harvesting Corn

I harvested my corn this weekend. Yes, it's late in the season, and no, I can never seem to time it right to actually eat anything that I grow. I grow it mostly for the corn stalks for my wife to decorate with and the kernels to make corn meal with - and, I suppose, the ever present hope that this year, I'll get some...



It was one of the mornings where you can tell that autumn is here: the air is a little crisp, the sunlight has that slight haze that indicates that the fall is coming hard. I moved through, pulling the ears off the the stalks, putting them to the side, then cuttin off the corn at the roots, piling the larger stalks to one side for shocking, the smaller ones to the left for eventual composting. I could hear the voices of my family coming out from the open windows as I worked away in the quiet morning air.



There is something about harvesting that satisfies my soul in a way that I cannot fully or rationally explain. Maybe its the thought that I had a (small) hand in coaxing the Nature that God created, perhaps it's the feeling of knowing I can grow something that is useful, perhaps it is a harkening back to the First Garden before the Fall. I cannot explain it, but only enjoy it - as is true of all truly good pleasures.



The corn now hangs in my garage drying, the cornstalks are in the garden (probably knocked over by the wind - again!) drying as well, another autumn season well begun.

Goal Setting

I am struggling within myself as to the place of goals in the Christian's life.

The problem: To what extent do the goals I determine represent God's will?

No, I'm not talking about those things which are proscribed by Scripture (those are generally obvious), but those things which seem to be left to the decision of the individual based on their relationship with Christ.

For example: What career field should I transfer to? Should I practice this, or that? This is allowed by Scripture, but is it a worthy goal?

At the moment, this is my grid:

1) Is it glorifying to God?
2) Is it Scriptural? (Does it represent something which is definite sin, or is it allowable?)
3) Will increase or decrease my pursuit of holiness?
4) Will it cause another to stumble?
5) Is it making the most of my time?

Urban Survival

I hate Big Cities. I don’t like the numbers of people, I don’t like the traffic, I don’t like the built-uppedness of it all (yes, when words don’t work, make them up), and I don’t like the expense. It’s not my normal habitat, so I immediately feel on guard.

So, naturally, I got sent to a Big City for work.

Lessons I have learned:

1) Don’t plan to use credit cards in taxis. They grumble, won’t do it willingly, and may try to take advantage of you (processing fee, don’t you know).
2) Don’t eat in the hotel. Get there early enough to walk or drive around a bit, to see what else is available.
3) Take the pro-offered local food if recommended by locals. Today I had something I never had before, and it was quite yummy.
4) Always signal the bus. They don’t stop if you don’t.
5) Use the gym and pool if they have it. It makes you feel better.
6) Always miss your wife and family and tell them so.

Struggling

I'm on the eve of a journey cross country tonight, struggling.

1) I realized, in reading my year through the bible reading this morning, that one of my cherished goals is gone - and I never knew it. I was the one deluding myself. I disqualified myself years ago, and never realized it - or never wanted to realize it. There is a role and a place for me to play, but the one I had imagined is not it.

2) I am struggling with my job. It has become terribly difficult to wake up to go in to work in the morning. The commute is bad enough, but the feeling of emptiness, of doing that which has no eternal value (perhaps little temporal value?) is wearing on me. I continually try to hold in front of me that I am doing the right thing - but is the whole sum of one's career to be suffered through, rather than enjoyed?

What does it mean? I don't know. My career field is the same no matter what company I am at - which should tell me something. But what else to do? I collect quotes about following one's dreams, of working hard - but they never discuss the realities of life. Accomplishing goals do not occur in a vacuum; one has to surrender something to get something, and one does not always know up front if the trade is worth it.

But being this way cannot be right either.