Reflections

I can't stand that I am trapped in a situation where she's continually putting all the hand-wringing worries and concerns about our son on me. She can't just share a concern and have my response being receptive to him getting help be enough. She has to continue to write, continue to voice worry, continue to exude anxiety and forecast gloom and doom. Yet she's completely incapable of recounting her own role in this mess. She's driving him away in the exact same way she drove me away. With constant judgment, direction and a sick dependency on getting some validation from his having issues and her being the person that saves him. It's a fucking nightmare. I'm accused of being in denial and avoidance. I'm NOT. I SEE his struggles, I understand how he's having a difficult time, and I have all sorts of empathy and recognition of it as well. Because I see so much of it being a result of him being in that home environment and having grown up being micromanaged and worried about and hovered over. I've seen him struggle with homework yet I've also seen him do great work. He's struggling now for many reasons, and she's already set it in his head, as has Melisa, that his issues need treatment and therapy. I don't agree. I think his issue are far more about the divorce, about his age, about his insecurities and fears that are clearly a manifestation of living in fear and anxiety for so many years and having.

Unless I'm working with her on her agenda or supporting her belief and her plan, I'm 'working against her'. I've tried and tried on more than one occasion to make changes, to introduced processes and boundaries, and none are embraced. Even those with published cited benefits are discounted if they're not in accord with her own perspectives and with what she wants to do.

My suggestion that he come to do homework with me, in my apartment, 1 on 1, away from her and his sister, is a REASONABLE RATIONAL propose. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with that idea and considering how true it is that there are distractions and familiarity and siblings and her all there as possible detractors…. why not openly embrace the idea and consider it might have some legs? She asks why in the world would I suggest that? BECAUSE OF ALL THE REASONS I JUST STATED. We agreed that he'd do homework there but since that's not working, let's try a new approach. WTF is wrong with that?

I think he brought up Kuhn and Melissa because they and she have put it in his head that his focus issues require their help. I don't agree. Melissa didn't help and he even said he didn't really like her or get any real help.

I hate that I'm so prone to second guess and to defer to others so I don't have to feel responsible for the decisions if they go wrong. I have a clear head and view of this. Does he have struggles? Yes. Does he exhibit OCD tendencies like fear and touching things repeatedly and obsess? Yes, definitely. So does he have OCD? possibly. Is the home environment one that is structured physical and emotionally to help him? No fucking way. The mess, the depression and upset he relays to me about being there, the pressure, the lack of emphasis and expectations for homework first, play after, the tolerance of disrespect and language without reasonably strict and clear consequences… all of that works counter to his possible need for structure, self-confidence, security and order that should be provided for him.

Her: He started homework at 4:30. It's now past 5:30 and he has written and erased the same answer to his math problem over and over and over multiple times.
He needs treatment now.
Because Melissa was canceled and Dr Kuhn is unavailable, I have to find someone else who does CBT well which is going to be very difficult. He is literally not functioning to do his schoolwork because he is compulsory to write, erase, and re-write over and over and over. This in addition to thinking he had cancer, keeps his fingers closed and using the backs of his hands to touch things, thinking that "germs have gotten into him@ as he told me last night, and many, many more things. He needs help. He can't sustain this. 

Me: If you think Melissa was effective you can try her again but my belief is that she was not and he was not connecting to her. Maybe Kuhn will open up. 

Her: 10:00 at night he is still working on last math problem from 4:30 this afternoon, unable to stop writing and erasing. Still has science homework to do and 4 hours of reading for 1/3 of his grade, which will not get done. He will receive either a D or an F for his language arts grade, likely a D for Science. Other grades unknown but nothing above a C. He is literally unable to complete homework due to the OCD. If this continues he will completely fail school. Why, in the world, when he is struggling so much with OCD thoughts that are causing the writing and re-writing, would you suggest him interrupting his homework effort to go to your apartment to do homework? We had agreed that he needs to not be shuffled on homework nights, so why would you suggest this?His writing issue (and typing issue) is entirely from OCD thoughts -- why do you think he jumped to asking you if you had canceled Melissa Gould when you asked him about it? He needs treatment (I'm hoping to talk to dr Kuhn tomorrow to get on waiting list if possible, if not need to figure out who ASAP), and he needs stability to be able to focus. By the way, he's not "on his last science question." He has an entire paragraph to write and if writing goes as it already has he won't be able to complete it. It's important we don't do for him.As for completing his book for his language arts grade tonight, he simply won't have the time. 

Me: I want him to start coming to do his homework with me because the environment there is filled with tension and interruptions and distractions and conflict and commentary. That's why. You also need to institute stricter boundaries and reset expectations of his time after school and better manage incentives like allowance and privileges. He mentioned Melissa because that is and has been YOUR focus and you are and have clearly been discussing it in correlation to his homework struggles. 

Her: Why would you say that? It's not true at all. Because I write to you about what's going on for him is not true that there have been all the things you wrote 

Me: i've bene there, i've seen it and experienced it first hand. It's all true. JUST last night our reading was completely interrupted repeatedly by you alone, and all the other distractions. 

Her: You do not get it. Having OCD and what he is doing has nothing to do with boundaries, punishments, your ideas of strictness, or rewards. He is having compulsive thoughts and you can ask him. HE TOLD ME! You have SEEN HIM! Why are you pretending you don't know what's happening to him. He has literally called and told you about these things. You are so interested in blame and avoidance that you'll make up anything. Repeatedly interrupted?! You are insane. You are defensive. I spoke twice last night and you got pissed off because you didn't like it but I wasn't even there to "repeatedly interrupt you." 

Me: I've seen many things including him getting through things well and quickly and even getting going on and sticking with reading well once he engages. Why are you so hell bent on attributing everything to something other then what I'm pointing out? 

Her: HE brought Kuhn and Melissa up to ME, HE did, not the other way around. You are once again focused on enemy treatment, put downs and blame, instead of making best plans for US to do for HIM!! 

Me: No you interrupted more than 5 times if not more so. I'm not going to argue with you. I have to drive, sleep, and go to work early. His grades this quarter will be what they'll be and we'll work out some revisions to how his approach to doing homework is structured. 

Her: Once again you make things worse instead of better. Once again you work against me instead of with me. 

Me: who's focused on enemy treatment here? who's working against who? look in the mirror. goodnight

I’m Not The Man I Used To Be

I’ve heard several times over the past year or two that I'm not who I was thought to be. How she’d never imagined I’d do something like this. How no matter what was wrong, it was believed that we’d always be together and somehow work it out. I know what she means because I thought so too. Or like to think I did. Maybe I didn’t see it as much as something we’d work out, but something we’d ride out. That’s a dramatic difference.

We're All In This Together

I was watching a man crossing the street earlier today as I was driving my kids around and about. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the man, he was a bit older then me but not much. He was just walking and waiting to cross after I turned. There was absolutely nothing unique or interesting or thought provoking at all. Simple an man, waiting to cross the street. And as I turned, I glanced his way briefly and felt oddly conscious of the fact that he could be me. That is to say, as I've done so many, many times in many, many places, I could be waiting to cross the street as a stranger and his kids turned past me. Not noticing me. Me not noticing them.





What stuck for me though was thinking that if he could be me, has he gone through a divorce? Has he any children? Has he had any illnesses that took him out of commission for awhile? Maybe something he recovered from and it changed his views. Did he believe in God or was he an Atheist? Did he struggle to balance the demands in his own life? Did his career path include technology or craftsmanship or manual labor? What about his youth, did he have a positive childhood, did his family stay close or perhaps were then never in the first place? Did he travel? Go to war? Love cars? Have a fascinating hobby?



This guy on the corner could have been me, and I think it's really important to stay conscious about the fact that every single one of us, is "us". I strongly believe that the more we slow down and recognize this, the less likely we are to think the guy that went through the 10-item lane with 12 items is a jerk, or to be irritated with the woman who's fender-bender delayed our arrival at work (when we really don't want to be there in the first place), or that the random stranger you might deem a "nobody", is really somebody. To themselves, and like lots of other people too.

It's so easy to get into routines and miss out of the subtle awareness of our surroundings, people included. But it's pretty amazing when you do pay attention and start to make some connections.

Balancing Act

I use analogies as often as walmart cashier says "have a nice day". (Did you see? See what I did there?). One of my favorite analogies for the chaotic amount of juggling of demands and deliverables I manage daily at work and elsewhere, alongside my go-to 'spinning plates' description, is of being "as harried as a short-order cook during a lunch rush with no waitress or cashier." I can get busy, really busy, 'fragmented' busy. I am typically operating in high-interrupt environments and I'm dealing with 'immediate need' issues cropping up and obscuring everything I planned to do in the first place. This is at work and when I'm with my kids, and pretty much most of the time in between. I'd say that, sans sleep hours during which I'm truly asleep, I'm doing my best to do 1.5 to 3 things at once.

Making Busy Work

Along with returning to writing, I'm trying to use time as efficiently as possible. I realize that when I first get up in the morning, I have about 15 to 30 minutes of time that I am doing but routine busywork. So why not make that routine work for something other than being busy?

My morning now start with a short-list of selected podcasts that I can listen to while I go about getting out the door. Self-improvement, mindfulness, health, and happiness stuff. This allows me to use the time to get short bits of inspiration, reflection, and motivation. Once in my car and heading into the office I launch into podcasts targeting leadership, management, motivation, process improvements. Stuff related to my work. The last time slot is for my drive home. Being a good parent, a good individual, maybe some further health related things to keep me inspired to walk and eat right.

I don't believe that I'm going to listen to every-single-one ,every single day. I may try to just hit 2 out of 3 each day. Sometimes my drive time gets spent on the phone or dictating a new post…, such as this one :-).

SUM(2015-1934)

Webster, David, and Alan

I've written about my Father on multiple past occasions. He'd have been 81 today if he'd made it past 54. And so my thoughts are on him today. 

Instead of writing my own reflections, I'll just post a small set of comments I gathered some years back from his colleagues at Tandem:

Alan was one of the few people at Tandem that left a lasting impression on me. Alan was brilliant, and had a terrific sense of humor. 

What a grand man...he is actually the person who brought me into Tandem. If I thought I could tackle some project, he was the one who said 'go for it'. Alan was a true inspiration to me. He was the kind of boss that would really let you spread your wings and try to do what you could. It is very much because of him that I have my personal slogan: "I will not know what I can do until I do what I can". This is the byline I live by to this day. I thank Alan for that.

I worked with your father at HP, prior to Tandem, for several years. He was not only very intelligent, but a warm and friendly sort of guy.

I knew your dad very well. He spoke from the heart and knew when people were lying to him. He appreciated tallented people and loved to be around anyone with lots of talent. Didn't matter how old or young you were. He always treated you fairly and with respect. I loved the man and loved working with him.

I met and worked with you father a couple of times. Being a new programmer he some times went over my head, but he was patient with me. I'll never forget his energy, kindness and willingness to teach.

The way I see it, your dad was a human being you can be proud of, he is one of the suns that are shining on my life even after the trip I took to Frankfurt for his funeral.

I knew your father well. Your Dad was brilliant. He hid that well. One would have to really work with him to know. It was a joy to work with him. He was also funny and a great person to be around. Your Dad was a great friend and when I remember him, I smile. I'm smiling now. I don't think it gets any better than that. How nice to be remembered so fondly. A smile….that's Alan.

"I wasn't there that morning when my Father passed away

I didn't get to tell him all the things I had to say.

I think I caught his spirit later that same year

I'm sure I heard his echo In my baby's new born tears

I just wish I could have told him in the living years."

- Mike & The Mechanics

Because I'm Good Enough.... I'm Smart Enough...

I returned to work today, as did everybody else, evidenced by the 1.5hr commute time I opt'd out of until after 10.30am. But even with reduced traffic, the morning's work and the multiple tasks and emails and IM'd action items all coming at me at once made it clear... i'm back in the deep end, and the stress is right there, circling around me, waiting for the chance to take hold and start thrashing me about.

The Good Life

@ 8:51 ”High conflict marriages without much affection turn out to be worse for our health then getting divorced.” high conflict wasn't just me. I had reasons for my frustration and for the trappings of feeling like the walls were closing in on me. Ugh, because they were.

The Accuracy of GPS at 5.30am

I was awoken this morning around 5.30am by the distant sound of somebody knocking on a distant door. My first thought, foggy as it was, related to the insensitive of the person doing the knocking as to their surroundings, and that others were sleeping. I tend to find it appalling when people in small apartment complexes walk and talk loudly or bang on doors without consideration of those around them. I've experienced simpler instances in hotels when late night partiers linger, laugh and loudly dialog while stopped in a hallway outside your room door. Where's your consideration for others? And at 5.30am? Christ, I shssh my kids at 9pm and I turn off the lights on my car when I pull into a parking space where somebody's apartment window is positioned. It's called "Consideration".

The knocking happened again! A second and even louder time. Waking me fully as I laid quietly and waited for the probable laughter, chatter and full-volume exchange likely to follow. But none did. What did happen was the knocking repeated a third time, far louder now, because it was getting closer. And this time I heard the sound of the person in the apartment above me as they got out of bed, walked to and opened their door.

The voices were soft and muffled. Gratefully. But now i was awake and trying to run the scenarios down as I tried to figure out why a door-to-door knocking would occur in the first place.

My absolute first thought was that the was an emergency of some sort. A fire, perhaps. Or a problem with a car, or an accident, or something of that nature. This all ran through my head as I got up and put something on, remembering a friend who's home fire landed them out in the cold without any clothes on.

I went to the door and slide the blinds to the side just enough to look out and see one man standing mid-flight on the stairs leading to the second floor apartment. The tenant there, Fonzi (Yes, "Fonzi", don't get me started on that right now), had answered the door and was speaking to a second man standing on the landing outside his apartment. The man talking distinctly said something about "looking for his girlfriend".

I wanted to ignore it all and go back to bed, but something told me it was inevitable. Not only had the knock progressed my way, but I now stood looking out through the slight open section of blinds that were still in motion from being moved, motion that was illuminated by the lighting outside the apartment. And the fact that the guy standing on the stairs was looking my way because of it. I knew I'd just entered this scene in full, I would have some involvement no matter what. I decided I would not be the passive recipient of their next door knock, but the aggressive player in what was about to unfold.

So I opened my door.

The man on the steps looked at me and then up to his friend, and motioned to him that there was somebody down stairs too. I braced myself to hopefully dismiss whatever might be going on and get back to sleep as his friend came down the steps and approached my door. A door I stood holding open and blocking at the same time.

I refer to these two as men, but to me, they were kids, or at least "younger men" in their mid-twenties. The door-knocker approached me as his friend remained on the stairs (yes, I was maintaining awareness of all my surroundings at this point) with an apologetic look and introduction. He said he was looking for and was worried about his girlfriend, he tracked her to our building with his phone. He reeked of beer. He was clearly agitated and acting out of anxiety or anger. He said he just wanted to know that she was OK.

I told him I don't know his girlfriend and there's nobody here but me. He countered by showing me the circular shaded indication of her location being in my building on his outstretched phone, and said "…. but it show's me that she's right here".

He was visibly shaking, and as the potential outcomes played through my predictive imagination I was shaking a bit too, at what an explosive situation this was. Anything could happen. Accusations could be made, he could challenge my position that I was alone and ask to check. He could pull his friend into the exchange. It could get ugly.

I was in my mid-twenties once. I had my own similar instances of discord and suspicions and struggles managing the ups and downs of relationships myself. And I found myself feeling empathy for this guy. Irritation, definitely, and a modest degree of fear over the possibilities of having to be in any sort of confrontational exchange too. But mostly, empathy.

As I looked at his phone I said in a sleepy voice, "Brother, I gotta tell you that GPS is not always that precise. My kids mom has tracked them and thought they were in a cemetery a great distance away from their school while they were in class, or in some strangers house when they were on a nearby soccer field where she had dropped them off earlier". I assured him again that his girlfriend was not in my apartment, and he accepted that graciously. Almost too graciously, to be honest. Come on. Is it that far fetched that some 20-something woman would find this 50+ year old pudgy greying old man attractive enough to come spend the night with? OK, well, I guess it is. And I accept that.

I returned to my bed and listened to he an his friend's muffled voices, and I realized that this could still actually get ugly. They could find her in another apartment nearby, either with another man or staying with a girlfriend in order to avoid this drunk boyfriend's possible abuse. Any number of outcomes were possible, and doing nothing further felt apathetic and irresponsible.

I called the apartment security hotline, I explained the situation, and they said they'd dispatch security to investigate. They agreed that it sounded like it could be a problem.

The men's voices faded out moments later, before any security could have arrived, as they left the area outside my apartment. And that's the last I've heard of it so far.

Training Day

I spent the most of the morning and afternoon with my son today, on a training mission. He got a new train set at Christmas and wanted to go check out some train related shops and exhibits. BUT he's also in rare form as far as his degree of entitlement goes. He's in a shitty mood. Mean, angry, bitter, demanding. I'm being told it's because of the divorce.

Life Is Too Short To Be Anything But Happy

New Years Day, 2016, and i’m looking at a quote I found this weekend about happiness. Elusive bastard, that happiness is. At this time last year I was just beginning to have difficulty walking, 2 weeks later I was hospitalized. 2 months later I was still learning to walk again. And during that period I thought I’d figured out how to focus and filter the value from the noise. It didn’t last.



Now I’m looking at this quote and trying to put my present and future into perspective.

I want to continue making efforts to focus my time and attention on things that’ll matter in the long run. My rapport with my kids. The manner in which I manage the separation and divorce i’m going through. The quality of the work I do that will reflect on and impact my career. My heath, which i’ve let slide this past year and now face the uphill battle to reclaim. The honesty I invoke with not only my friends and family, but myself as well.



I have a great deal of hope for the year ahead, that i’ll navigate the pathway with grace, compassion, insight, introspection and absolute consciousness and certainty in the choices I make. That, perhaps for me, is the most frightening concept i’ve faced in a long, long time. Because happiness does not appear to come from one aspect of one’s life, but from the entire collective, which for me, feels lined with complexities and conflict for some time to come.



What I have yet to master is to find happiness being able to change the things I can, and accept the things I can not.