Facing Our Failures

Failure.jpgThere is a trite little platitude that goes something like this, “Failure is not an option.” In reality it is a very human trait to fail at something even after exerting great effort to succeed. We all find ourselves in the midst of a fiasco now and again. It is part of who we are as people. We may fail a class even though we thought we were prepared. A relationship may sour in spite of our efforts to save it. We find ourselves being fired from a job or unable to successfully complete an important project. We wreck our car in the split second of a careless moment. We say and do exactly the wrong thing in a situation with our children. We fudge on a diet or exercise program. We inevitably make mistakes in the course of living our lives.

Perhaps instead of suggesting that there is something innately wrong in failing, we should instead concentrate on how we will behave once the genie is out of the bottle, the milk is spilled, the horse is out of the barn. Our character is often defined more by how we react to failure than how we reach success. It really doesn’t matter how many times it may have taken us to achieve a goal as much as how resolved and persistent we have been in getting there. Our willingness to keep trying often determines the trajectory of our lives. Those who adapt optimistically to their circumstances are likely to ultimately overcome even the most challenging situations. In addition, we need to teach ourselves and others how to identify toxic situations and to recognize when to walk away from them.

I know a man who literally spent almost a decade attempting to earn a college degree. He had to work to pay his tuition and the coursework was sometimes quite difficult for him. He would joke that he was going to be the oldest graduate ever. Nonetheless, he kept his eye on the prize, never giving up, even when it seemed hopeless. The day came when he held his diploma in his hand. Ultimately it was his unstoppable tenacity that earned him a great job and his willingness to keep trying against all odds has become his hallmark. He has risen to the top of his profession, admired by peers and bosses alike as someone with a dogged willingness to get the job done. He is the go to man when the situation gets tough. Everyone knows that he will not take no for an answer.

Beethoven composed symphonies even after becoming deaf. Thomas Edison had to create hundreds of prototypes before finally finding a lightbulb that would work. Albert Einstein was thought to be a slow learner at school. Abraham Lincoln was initially seen as someone incapable of achieving much of merit. Walt Disney was told that he had no creative instincts. The list of so called failures who eventually became famous for their contributions to the world is long because the reality is that we all hit walls from time to time.

Too often we dwell on the things that we have done wrong rather than just picking ourselves up, deciding how to improve and then moving on. When we become captive to the negativity associated with failure we give up, run away. We assume that there is no reason to keep banging our heads against walls. We end up with regrets. We think of our might have beens. The go getters, instead, dust themselves off and get back in the saddle. They learn from each unsuccessful iteration and apply their new found knowledge to improving their lots. They remain unafraid to take risks.

I sometimes wonder if our society creates individuals who give in to failure because of the ways that we speak of it and react to it. In schools there is linear progression of learning with tests along to the way provide evidence of accumulated knowledge. Students mostly move in lock step from one skill to the next. For those who may take a bit longer to master concepts the process becomes a series of failures that all too often result in a feeling of hopelessness. I all too often heard the refrain, “I’m just not good in math.” The truth was that everyone of those who uttered such remarks was more than capable of becoming adept with numbers. They just took longer to grasp the ideas. With a bit of effort and encouragement they were eventually able to achieve a high level of comfort with very complex algorithms. They felt a sense of accomplishment that in turn lead to a greater willingness to explore even more difficult ideas.

When I was in middle school a gym teacher told me that I was the clumsiest, least athletic person that she had ever met. She ridiculed all of my efforts to please her. As a result I mostly traveled through life thinking of myself as a total klutz, unable to even catch a ball. It was not until I met a professor in college that my attitude changed. He convinced me that I too could be skilled if shown the proper techniques. He insisted that my old teacher had been remiss in expecting me to possess natural born abilities in sports. He taught me the fundamentals and my world as well as my attitude was transformed.

We certainly value the child who is capable of taking the school team to the championship. We send our finest debaters to the competition. Still we must be willing to provide opportunities to shine for those who are not as gifted. It is up to us to model behaviors that will teach them that improving is just as important as winning the prize. We have to let them know that they will ultimately find their pathways by participating in many different experiences.

I am particularly taken with the attitudes of my twin grandsons. They are incredible athletes but they do not measure success by the number of medals or trophies that they earn. Instead they focus on being their personal best. Their goals always involve moving just a bit closer to a better individual record. If doing so happens to give them a championship it is wonderful. If it only demonstrates that they are getting closer to their goals they are just as happy. They have already developed a way of thinking that is going to take them far. Would that we might be able to do the same for everyone.

Failure never feels good. It is a downer that we don’t want to experience but it sometimes happens. If we can analyze our situation and make improvements our mistakes will not have been for naught. We are all on a journey. How well we do depends on our ability to adapt and become stronger. That requires a positive willingness to keeping trying to find our way. If we keep the faith it will happen. Perhaps our new mantra should be, “Giving in to failure is not an option.” We would be wise to teach that to our children as well.

A DIY Disaster

671-ss-filling-joints-patio-paversIt’s late on a Sunday afternoon and I am sitting here wearing filthy clothing that is no doubt forever ruined. My big toe is bleeding from being ripped from its bed by a stray tree limb. My face is covered in sandy grit and my hair looks like Daryl’s coiffure in The Walking Dead. It wasn’t supposed to end this way, but I’m way ahead of my story so let’s go back to the beginning.

I have a lovely paver patio that husband Mike and I have enjoyed for several years now. We often dine there enjoying Mother Nature’s splendor. Of late I have had to continuously pull weeds that have grown between the crevices of the bricks because most of the sand that once filled the joints has evaporated due to wind and rain. I decided that it would be a fun and worthy project to get our favorite spot back up to speed. After all, who doesn’t like a DIY project? Why should Chip and Joanna get so much credit for what they do when we are all capable of a little fixer upping, right?

So I did a bit of research on YouTube where it’s possible to learn how to do virtually anything, and it seemed as though it was a very easy task. After all, Mike and I have done electrical work and I have painted a twelve foot wall using a ladder perched on a countertop. We are not exactly ignorant of the ways of home maintenance and repair.

Our first step was to take everything off of the patio and set it in the yard. That was quick and easy. Then it was on to ridding ourselves of those pesky weeds. That was a bigger project than we anticipated but it ultimately went well. We congratulated ourselves on a job well done. Next we power washed the entire area until it was gleaming like new. We were definitely on a roll and feeling a bit cocky about our abilities. I was actually day dreaming about the possibility of a new business venture in patio renovation.

While the area was drying in the warmth of a beautiful sunny day we went to Home Depot to get the compound to put between the joints. The place was packed and filled with employees pretending not to notice anyone who needed help which seemed fairly normal. Since Mike wasn’t about to ask anyone where to find what we needed (What men ever do?), it was up to me to inquire. A young man acted as though we had interrupted important work which included moving a two by four from one spot to another, and at first insisted that he had no idea what we were talking about. An older gentleman did his best to be a bit more polite, but it was obvious that he wasn’t quite sure what we were talking about. I suppose that there was a bit of a language barrier in his case. That should have been our cue that we were in trouble, but we persisted and finally the two of them began arguing about which of the many products were best suited for our purposes. They finally agreed that a sand and concrete mixture was exactly what we needed. We took their advice and headed for home thinking that in only a couple of hours we would have a beautifully renovated outdoor setting. I was particularly flying high with anticipation of how wonderful our finished project was going to be.

We had been instructed to pour some of the mixture directly on to the surface and then use a broom to sweep it into the cracks. Things seemed to be going swimmingly until some of the sandy substance began bleeding onto the pavers looking wet rather than dry. I have since found out that this is called staining and it happens when the area is not completely dry. Since it was only occurring in a couple of places we soldiered on thinking that all would still be well. Before long we had covered the entire surface and filled every joint, but the bleeding began to take place in multiple sections. Before long it appeared that we had literally killed our once gorgeous pavers. We swept and swept and swept, removing excess powder thinking that we might be able to save the day, but the problem only grew worse and worse, and after over an hour of sweeping there was a gray layer of sand all over every single paver. Not only had we lost all of the lovely color of the bricks, but the bleeding had reached an emergency level with gray concrete oozing over almost every single surface. We decided that maybe wetting things down might help, but that only lead to a crazy looking mess that gave the appearance that a group of kindergartners had decided to design an outdoor walkway. Our only option was to get the power washer out once again and literally soak the surface with so much water that the cracks were empty once again and the offending gray concrete was removed from the pavers. It literally took hours of hard work to spray the ugly film from each paver, one at a time. We wanted to cry at the evidence of our big fail, but there was little to do but laugh at our ineptness.

We were able to save the patio, but it now sits in a pool of dampness that will probably take days to dry. Every crack is wide open, so I expect the weeds to come back with a vengeance. We did a bit more research and now know what kind of substance to get. It is sand with a polymer, not concrete. Hopefully we can install it with more success by Tuesday or Wednesday and then put a sealant on the surface to keep it from washing away or getting dirty. I truly hope that we have a more favorable outcome than we did today. I am feeling a bit like a dunce and Mike is aching from standing on the hard concrete for almost six hours washing every square inch to keep it from being ruined. We both have a new respect for the little old man who did the original work for us, and maybe Chip and Joanna are way more impressive than we thought.

I’m going to go wash away my shame now. I now have a new set of work duds for dirty jobs, because the ones I am now wearing are only suitable for hard labor in the future. I can tell by the throbbing pain that my big toe is so damaged that I will not be wearing flip flops or sandals this summer. (I know. I know. I should have been wearing shoes, but I am a bit of a sixties hippie and I do my best work without confining my feet.) I guess that we may put “patio repair” on the list of things that we no longer wish to do, like plumbing and putting a roof on a house, fiascos with stories of their own from the past. Sometimes it’s best to stick with what we know rather than venturing into new territory. I suppose that we needed to do a bit more homework before trying our hand at something that is way harder than we anticipated.

I think that sometimes we are pence wise and pound foolish. We probably could have paid someone to do this for us and avoided a great deal of grief, but hey, we are retired and have more time than money. We should be able to do this. We know people who have had great success at such things. Surely we are as capable as they are.

If the weather holds up and the surface dries out, we will try again in a couple of days. I shouldn’t be worried, but I am. I shouldn’t feel ridiculous, but I do. The video showing us the process looked so easy. In fact, the people got the whole thing done in only four minutes. Surely we will get this right. I can only hope.

For now Mike is downing a beer. I think he has the right idea.

Speak Out

censorship-1.gifAttending college was one of the most exciting times of my life. My professors challenged the status quo of my beliefs and taught me how to think critically. They were never satisfied with having me simply regurgitate what I had learned. They insisted that I show evidence of having considered the pros and cons of every argument or theory. They showed me the importance of viewing the world from multiple points of view. I remember attending events featuring some of the most controversial speakers of the era. It mattered not whether I agreed with them, but rather that I allow myself to widen my own horizons. Some of those that I heard were brilliant and I wrote others off, but always there was the sheer enjoyment of becoming familiar with new and intriguing philosophies.

When I became a teacher I was enthralled with the idea of showing my students how to become critical thinkers. Even in mathematics classes we compared and contrasted differing methods for solving problems and began to discuss the merits of each. I once prefaced such an exercise by having my students read accounts of a Revolutionary War battle written by four quite different individuals. One was the eyewitness account of a patriot, another was from a letter written by a British soldier. Still another was penned by Winston Churchill for his famous history and the last was from the point of view of a bystander who had little interest in choosing sides. The students immediately realized that how we see the world is influenced by all of the complexities of our lifetime. They began to question who had been in the right and wondered if we ever get a totally unbiased reporting of events. It was quite rewarding to watch the scales fall from their eyes and to experience their enthusiasm in being able to engage in a debate.

I am and always will be a staunch proponent of free speech. Unlike many people that I know, I actually enjoy hearing from individuals whose opinions are diametrically opposed to mine. When in their company I listen with as open a mind as I might possibly muster, realizing that my own thinking is rooted in the totality of my lifetime. My goal is not to catch them in mistakes but to truly learn from them. It is rather amazing how much I derive from even the most ridiculous sounding ideas. I have always felt that we tend to spend too much time composing our responses and not nearly enough attempting to understand why people believe as they do.

Obviously there are many instances in which I am not even minutely swayed by someone’s beliefs, particularly when I sense that they are evil or violent. I have read Mein Kampf not because I am a follower of Nazi propaganda, but because I think it is important to know what lies in the minds of such people. Perhaps the biggest mistake that too many make is running away from the rants of those who would impinge on our freedoms. In truth we should make ourselves aware of even their most rancid and unbearable thinking. I agree with the Godfather that it is important to keep our enemies close.

I abhor censorship of any kind. Free speech is perhaps our most important right as citizens. When I write my blog each weekday I am fully aware that I will annoy or even anger some who read my words, but I will fight to the death for my right to state what I believe. I will do the same for anyone else, even those with whom I totally disagree. The hallmark of totalitarianism is the tendency to eliminate the written or spoken words of those voicing alternative points of view. A free nation insures free expression of ideas in all phases of society. If someone urinates on a cross and calls it art I may choose to disagree and even feel offended, but I will never insist that the offering be destroyed.

I am somewhat befuddled by the current trend to shut down free speech at universities that were once bastions of open expression. I don’t personally like Ann Coulter but I have no problem with having her speak on the campus of any college including my alma mater. I don’t have to attend the event and I certainly don’t have to agree with anything that she says. What I should insist on is that she have her opportunity to speak her mind without interference. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but her words will never hurt me. In fact, I suspect that her audience would be rather small if not for all of the unearned publicity that she gets each time a group of students threaten violence if she shows up to give a speech.

The history of the world is filled with instances of book burnings and executions of people whose thoughts and words seemed controversial. The Spanish Inquisition was a dark time of squelching ideas. Members of ISIL destroy anyone and anything that is offensive to them. Surely the examples of Nazi and Communist oppression should teach us that it is in an open society that we progress as humans, not one in which we refuse to allow alternative points of view. Unfortunately I fear that we are presently on a razor thin line between wanting to be inoffensive and becoming unthinking censors. It is my love of liberty that tells me that we must be very careful in protecting our rights as free men and women. All of us should be loudly complaining any time that there are attempts to silence any among us, regardless of whether we agree with that individual’s beliefs or not.

With regards to what I am presently witnessing I am reminded of the now famous words of Pastor Martin Niemoller:

First they came for the socialists and I did not speak out because I was not a socialist. Then they came for the trade unionists and I did not speak out because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me and there was no one left to speak for me.

Speak out loudly and clearly. Let no one take away the free speech of any among us.

The 100 Days

Washington-DC-hero-H

Whew! By tomorrow we will have made it through Donald Trump’s first hundred days and in all honesty very little has happened one way or another, which is what I predicted all along and probably is for the best. Washington is far more complex than the analysis that President Trump made of it during his campaign. He’s gone through the big buzzsaw known as separation of powers and I suspect that he is somewhat surprised by his own inability to remake the government in only a matter of weeks. Just getting his cabinet approved was quite an ordeal and it seems that one of his original picks who was forced to leave rather quickly is in a heap of trouble. I truly wonder if Trump has had one of those “be careful what you wish for” realizations or if he would just as soon be back in Trump Tower enjoying the good life as a private citizen. He hasn’t exactly been welcomed to town with open arms by either Democrats or the media. It must feel very lonely at the top, but in the spirit of giving the man a chance I have a few suggestions which I am rather certain he will ignore, but here goes anyway.

It’s way past time to continue speaking of the election. Everybody has moved on and you need to as well, Mr. President. It’s obvious that Elizabeth Warren is already gearing up for a run in 2020. For that matter so are Cory Booker and Julian Castro. The Democrats smell blood and they will not back down. It’s time for you to concentrate solely on achieving some of your objectives but be ready for a big fight because not even your own Republicans are all in for you. Perhaps it’s time for you to learn the art of the deal in Washington. A bit of compromise might go a long way and I can tell that you are already rethinking a number of your big plans like that silly wall that so many appear to like. It’s actually a good sign that you may be beginning to realize that it was a mistake to be so wed to such a foolish idea. Maybe there is hope after all.

The whole Obamacare deal is a fiasco, and I must admit that I somewhat agree with you that it was inevitable even if you and the Republicans had done absolutely nothing. Now for the sake of the country it’s time for you, the members of your party and even the Democrats to figure this thing out lest our entire healthcare system collapse. A little give and take here and there is in order along with a very honest analysis of what it is going to take to keep the majority of folks happy without raising the costs to untenable levels. If you make a misstep on this I predict that it will be your undoing and don’t think that you can just foist all of the blame onto Speaker Ryan or the Democrats. You need to man up and take responsibility, something that I suspect is very hard for you.

I actually like your pick for the Supreme Court. While I don’t agree with all of Justice Gorsuch’s political beliefs I think that he is a fine and honest man in the vein of Justice Roberts. I believe that he will rule for the good of the country and in support of the Constitution without deference to certain political points of view. He doesn’t worry me. Now consider finding more decent men like him to help you run the government. (That’s a broad hint to rid yourself of Steve Bannon who in the end will lead to your demise. Just thank him for his help in your campaign and send him on his way. He serves no purpose anymore.)

I think that you could have done way better for Secretary of Education than Betsy Devos. She knows little or nothing about the vast system of public education in this country. When you get a chance you should replace her with someone who has a better grasp of the situation. She is a distraction and will do more harm than good. Surely there is someone with better qualifications.

I have mostly avoided political discussions on Facebook or Twitter for quite some time now. It is a very freeing experience. I suggest that you try it. Refrain from those weekend urges to say something that you will later regret. It really is time to be more presidential. When you act with restraint you actually become believable. It appears that those who voted for you still love you and those of us who did not have yet to be convinced that you know what you are doing. Show us a bit of maturity. Quit resorting to the habits of a thirteen year old. When you feel the urge to tweet an unfortunate message call Tweeters Anonymous or a trusted family member or friend to talk you out of embarrassing yourself and the country.

I am a tiny bit afraid of your trigger finger with regard to world affairs. I suppose that someone needed to show the Syrian president that his inhumane tactics will not be tolerated. I reluctantly applaud you for sending him a loud and clear message. I’m not so sure that you need to be as aggressive with the crazy kid in charge of North Korea as you have been. We already had one hopeless war over there and we don’t need another. Besides, I’m not so sure that anyone can reason with little Kim.

I know it’s been rough for you and your family of late. I’ve actually found myself feeling a bit sorry for all of you. I doubt that I would be able to take the daily drubbing that you receive and there are times when I actually think that the press is being way too hard. I think that they would be well advised to acknowledge some of the good things that you have tried to do. They can’t hate you every single moment and then expect you to listen to their concerns. Maybe it’s time for a truce and who better to lead it than you? Wouldn’t it be interesting if you ended up being the man who managed to bring all of the disparate groups in the country back to speaking and listening to one another? If you’d like to achieve that you will have to begin to set an example. So far you haven’t been so good at that but I am the supreme optimist. Hope springs eternal in my heart.

So there it is. You have managed to make it without being impeached or run out of town. I suspect that there are still countless individuals playing detective in the hopes of nailing you to the wall. In the meantime, show all of us that you really care about the people more than you do about yourself. I know that is very difficult for an old dog like you to learn knew tricks but, hey, we all have to change from time to time.

Anyway, I believe that it is in the best interest of all of us for you to really learn how to master your job, so good luck to you in the next hundred days. Feel free to use some of my ideas and please do your best not to get us blown off of the face of the earth. Concentrate on improving rather than tearing down and follow the mantras of the charter school where I once taught, “Work hard. Be nice. Leave everything better than you found it.” 

When Happiness Is Lost

635954839284874644-229042456_Depression

I often write about being optimistic and choosing to be happy. Of course such prescriptions are fine and dandy for those of us who are not afflicted with clinical depression, but for those who are it is virtually impossible to simply will away dark feelings.

My mother was one of the happiest people on the planet as long as she was not in the throes of her bipolar disorder. When the illness hit, she was literally unable to just wish its debilitating symptoms away. One of the characteristics of her disease was a profound sadness that would overtake her with life changing consequences. She often sat in the dark, drapes drawn tightly closed, crying and worrying for no real reason at all, unable to even venture into her front yard. It was both frightening and heartbreaking to see her in this condition. It was so contrary to the person that she really was.

Mama had shown early signs of her illness that my brothers and I failed to understand. There were times when she would suddenly take to her bed for several days. We always just assumed that she had a bad cold or a virus but it was far more sinister than that. She was fighting away the melancholy that paralyzed her. In the years before her disorder became full blown and noticeably chronic she would feel down for a few days or a week and then somehow return to the person that we knew so well. Unfortunately, in 1969, she experienced a psychotic break that began with crying jags and paranoid fears. Eventually she literally believed that the FBI was trying to frame her for selling drugs. She was convinced that all of us were going to be sent to jail. Her anxiety was so acute that she was in terrible physical pain and even thought that she had died and then miraculously come back to life.

I remember one of my very sweet uncles coming to visit her during this time. He pleaded with her to pull herself together. He reminded her that she had children for whom she needed to care. He argued that she had a wonderful life, filled with love. He felt that she only needed to choose to be happy and all would finally be well. Of course we all learned that such wishful thinking was not going to materialize. It was only after a long hospital stay and medication that she was able to return to us as the person who had always possessed a sunny disposition.

My mother mistakenly believed that her illness had been an anomaly, something that would never happen again. She insisted that she was cured and that she knew how to care for herself in the future. We naively agreed with her, thinking that the worst was behind us. Little did we realize that her condition was chronic, a never ending series of ups and downs taking over the chemistry of her brain. Only with the continual help of psychiatrists would she be able to function. It was a bitter pill for her and a challenge for those of us who loved her. We had to monitor her life to an almost invasive extent because whenever we became lax so did she, and the symptoms would return even worse than the times before.

My mother was known to her doctors as a noncompliant patient. She never admitted that she had a psychological problem, instead blaming me and my brothers for her condition. She wanted desperately to prove that she never needed psychiatric care and that her illness was a figment of our imaginations. Her reluctance to accept her diagnosis and continue her therapy on a regular basis lead to one relapse after another. Her life became far more difficult than it had to be.

Mama had brilliant and caring doctors who became frustrated with her unwillingness to follow their directions. They knew as we did that as long as she followed their instructions she was able to work and be like a ray of sunshine in everyone’s lives. Sometimes her medications had to be changed, but the results were always miraculous. To her detriment and our frustration she chose to discontinue her treatments again and again. As she did so the magnitude of her depression and mania increased. It was as though she was stressing her brain to the point of bursting.

I always understood that my mother wanted to feel normal, and visiting psychiatrists and taking numbing medications with troubling side effects was annoying to her. She gained enough weight from using her drugs to go from being a slender woman to one who was rather heavy. She experienced involuntary tongue flicks and other nervous system twitches. Her ankles would swell to three times their normal size. She hated those things and would quit taking her pills in the hopes of ridding herself of their effects. Of course she would ultimately become very sick again and her doctors would have to restart her therapy from ground zero. It was a hard way of living and I always empathized with her. I tried to imagine what it was like to feel so seriously sad as she often did. I wanted to understand her pain.

Depression is a very real disease for many unfortunate souls. It is not related to an inability to see the glass as half full. Nobody consciously wants to endure its effects. Happily there are ways of improving as long as one is willing to ask for and accept help. It can be a tricky process with a great deal of trial and error in implementing a viable plan. Because it is often a lifetime disorder it can become overwhelming. The important thing is for the depressed person and those around him/her to understand that it is a true medical condition much like diabetes or heart disease. There are treatments that will ultimately work, but they often take time.

Our laws prevent us from forcing adults to accept psychiatric care unless they are deemed to be a danger to themselves or others. While this protection prevents innocents from being falsely forced into therapies that they do not need, it also sometimes makes it very difficult to get a recalcitrant patient the care that they require. All too often families simply look the other way when their loved ones refuse to accept the treatments that they most certainly need. Such situations create very uncomfortable relationships that are painful to everyone concerned. Still I am convinced that it is up to those who love the sick person to insist by hook or crook that they receive the medications and therapies that they need. We can’t just walk away and hope for the best for them.

Mental illness and particularly depression too often results in dire consequences if left untreated. It is a lifetime battle but it need not overcome those who are afflicted. Each of us must learn to see the symptoms and guide those that we know and love to find the help that they need. Perhaps if we all agree to become more educated about the effects of such chronic diseases we will be more likely to deal with their effects more openly. There is nothing about depression or mental illness that should make us feel ashamed. Just as we would seek the best possible treatments for cancer or heart disease so too must we learn how to properly react to mental health issues. We can all be happy but some of us require a little push to get there. Our happiness and that of others need not be lost.