Moving On

My father's going to die soon.  He's in hospice, and has been for over a week, and the nurses who are working with him constantly say that he may not make it through another night.  They've been saying this for over a week, of course.  The difficult part of this situation for me is watching it and not having too many feelings about it.  After all, my father has always been a mean, abusive alcoholic, and while many people would say, "Yes, but he's still your father," this simple fact of biology can't do anything to change the ways that I think of the man.  The fact of the matter is that I can't remember many times at all when he actually acted as a father.  Instead of encouragement, he gave criticism and condemnation.  Instead of support, he provided neglect.  Instead of closeness and intimacy, he remained constantly aloof.

And of course, the alcoholism exacerbated all of these problems and turned our childhoods into nightmares.  I really don't want to go into the kinds of things that used to happen, but suffice it to say that I often wonder nowadays what my life might have been like if I had grown up with loving, nurturing parents instead of having to find my own ways through life from a very early age.

My goal here isn't to criticize and condemn.  Rather, it's important for me to look at the situation objectively so that I can understand why I have no deep feeling of loss when I think of my father passing on.  When he dies, he'll be gone, and I'll be left with a vast number of memories that aren't pleasant at all, and very few memories that bring forth positive emotions.

And that's okay.  I really don't want to be one of those people who would support someone come hell or high water no matter what kinds of awful things that person does.  I don't want to be a person who speaks at a funeral and tells others that this is a great loss and that he was a great man when the truth was quite different.  We're somehow expected to look only at the positive and forget the negative, and while I'm more than prepared to forgive--and I already have done so--I'm not willing to lie about the person that this man was.  Lying would affect me and my own peace of mind, and it wouldn't help him a bit.

After all, most of my success in life has resulted from me doing my best not to be like him.  He's served as nothing but a negative role model, showing me how not to live my life if I want to be a happy, fulfilled person.  From watching him--and not from him--I've learned how not to treat other people, how not to abuse alcohol, how not to be completely self-centered, how not to insult and belittle others, how not to emotionally harm and manipulate others.  When all is said and done, though, I've learned in spite of him rather than because of him.  Both my brother and sister, on the other hand, followed the path he modeled and became alcoholics and drug addicts themselves, and both of them died rather early deaths.

Trust me, I do feel compassion for the man.  He lived a very unhappy life that was often tinged with what seemed to be desperation.  I feel very sad that now, near the end of his life, he's dying friendless and alone.  We won't be having a funeral because there would be no one to come other than my mother and I.  But my feelings of sympathy can't change anything about the life he led, and it's my sincere hope that by observing the ways he lived and the results of those ways, I may be able to help others to avoid ending their lives in the ways that he's ending his.

Wasting Time

Something that has become much clearer to me over the years is the fact that for most of us, we "waste" very little time.  Unfortunately, I've always been rather harsh on myself for wasting time and not doing anything "productive" when I could have spent the time accomplishing something.  I've come to realize, though, that most of the time that I've "wasted" by playing games or going for long walks or even doing nothing much at all has been time that I wouldn't have been able to do anything, anyway.  My mental state has been such that what I've needed more than anything else is a rest, and by not forcing myself to "accomplish" anything in particular, I've allowed my brain to focus on something other than the incessant need to be productive and to take a much needed break for myself.

Sometimes it's nice to not do anything productive, to just sit and relax or go for a walk or read something good or even just take a nap.  It can be nice to not have any expectations of ourselves, and to not be disappointed in ourselves for not doing something.  Some of my best days have been days when I've purposely planned nothing at all and I've purposely done nothing at all.  Jigsaw puzzles are a great pastime for those kinds of days, or doing something that doesn't take a lot of brainpower or effort, like window shopping or watching something stupid on television, or watching a favorite old movie one more time.

When all is said and done, our desire to accomplish something seems to be a result of the fact that we want to be remembered, and we want to be remembered in positive ways.  We want people to be impressed with things that we've done, and we want them to be impressed with us for having done them.

The great spiritual leaders, though, have recognized something that is a definite truth:  human beings won't be here forever, and even if we feel that what we've done is lasting, it probably really isn't.  The world will go on and on, and the sun will rise and set without our assistance, as the Talmud reminds us.  I've come to believe that the most lasting legacy that we can leave isn't in material goods or possessions of achievements or successes.  Rather, the most lasting legacy is the love that we can share with others, the caring and compassion that our fellow human beings will carry with them after we share it with them.

While it can feel wonderful to achieve and to produce, it's important that we balance our desire to do so with rest and relaxation so that when we do try to achieve, we're well prepared to follow our path on the long haul.  We're not much good if we're exhausted.  And while we're resting and gathering strength, we can focus on things like writing letters and notes to people we care for, giving them encouragement just by letting them know that someone is thinking of them.  While some people are afraid of wasting time by relaxing and doing nothing, it's completely possible that the true waste of time is trying to carry on without having rested and provided ourselves with the strength we need to carry on.

Legacy

I often wonder about the legacy I'll be leaving.  In many ways, I wish my legacy were more expansive--my influence is rather limited, and I'm not quite sure just how the people I've affected even see what I've passed on to them.  When all is said and done, of course, none of that matters--what will matter on the day I die will be how I feel about what I've given to life and the people in it, and what others have gotten from me as a result of my giving.

But I'm a member of my society, and as a society, we really do seem to have stopped paying attention to things like leaving legacies for our young people, doing things that we can offer with pride to them, things that will contribute in positive ways to the world that they live in and will live in after we're gone.  Heck, we're even destroying the planet they need to live on for the rest of their lives and yes, that legacy is ours.  It belongs to those of us who have been around for a long time and who have continued to contribute to the status quo without making any changes in the ways that we do things that will make things better for our young people as they live their lives after we've departed.

Can I solve the climate crisis all by myself?  Of course not.  Can I solve the problems that we in the States have with a consistently growing number of mass shootings, especially in schools?  No.  Can I fix an educational system that is simply broken, and that is not adequately preparing most students for their futures?  Not on my own, I can't.  And even if I were to get 50 or 1,000 people together to work on the problem, we still couldn't fix it without the agreement of the state governments, the local school boards, the citizens of the country, school boards, and so many other groups that the task would probably never be done.

So what does that mean?  Does it mean that I can't leave a positive legacy?  Does it mean that I can't contribute to the world in positive ways?  No, it doesn't.  Because while my options certainly are limited by reality, I still do have options.  There are definitely legacies that I can leave behind on a very small level that may even have a strong ripple effect, helping the legacy to grow even after I'm gone.

I can leave a legacy of encouragement.  The more I encourage other people, especially young people, the more they learn the strength and power of encouragement, and the more likely they are to become encouragers themselves.  I can leave a legacy of hard work by providing a model of hard work that's balanced with rest and that doesn't take over my life and ruin relationships and hobbies.  I can work hard and still enjoy life, and that type of legacy is strong, indeed.

I can leave legacies of fairness, of compassion, of humor, of understanding, of appreciation, of wonder, of acceptance, of fairness--the list seems to be pretty long, doesn't it?  A legacy is what we leave as role models, and what we leave as laws and what we leave as realities.  I may not be able to solve the climate crisis, but I can drive my car less and put myself in situations in which I can walk or bike where I need to go.  I may not be able to solve the problems of violence in our society, but I can do my best to teach others to love one another and to respect one another and to never resort to violence as a way to deal with problems in life.

We're on this planet a short time, and we want to contribute what we can.  Most of us will never contribute in huge ways, affecting millions of people, but we can contribute in small ways that affect relatively few people--and still leave a legacy that is positive and lasting.  We just have to trust that when we do good, on no matter how small a level, we're contributing in the world in ways that will help others and that will make a lasting impression.  The world needs us to do good, and we can make our own lives much more positive when we do our best to leave a legacy that we can be proud of.

Episodes

I really do like New Year's Day.  It just feels like an opportunity for a fresh start, for new ways to look at things and new things to do and to experience.  I know that the difference between December 31 and January 1 is simply a moment, and that as far as the Earth is concerned, there's no such thing as a "new year" when each day just follows the previous day, as has happened for millennia--all the way back to where there was no concept of "day" to be considered.  It was simply the sun coming up once more after an absence, and there was no name to it at all.

I think I like it because I view life most often through the lens of episodes.  Somehow, my life had been extremely episodic--all of my life I've felt a series of endings and beginnings, over and over again.  I finished school and started working; I finished an MA and joined the Army; I worked two years at a school and then moved on to a different school in a different city or state.  Perhaps this has simply been a continuation of my childhood, when our family moved every couple of years because my father, who was in the Navy, got orders to a new post.  So we had to move from San Diego to Norfolk, from Norfolk to Illinois; from San Francisco to San Diego.  My childhood definitely wasn't one of stability; rather, the only constant in my life was change, so to speak, and I think that this reality has extended itself into my life as an adult.

Which would explain why I really like the idea of a new start at the "beginning" of each year.  I like thinking and feeling that I can put certain things behind me for good in the old year, which is now gone forever, and move forward into the new year pursuing new things--new ideas, new experiences, new behaviors.  Perhaps I've felt myself being too impatient with my students--I can make a clean break from that particular behavior and leave it behind me in the year that's now gone, and move into the next year with a new set of behaviors that will serve me and others well.  The last chapter is done, and the new chapter will develop my character even more.  The last episode is finished, and this new episode will give me a chance to follow a completely new plot with new characters and conflicts.

All in all, I believe that life is episodic for us all, but that we don't pay attention because so many of the changes are so subtle.  Sometimes it's hard to notice that changes have even taken place, even when life is moving in new and different directions.  I want to embrace the shift into a new episode full of new characters and new plots.  Some of the plots we need to make an effort to follow, and some of the characters take a lot of work to get to know or like.  For me, I see the new year as a chance to make some subtle changes that will help me to become a new person--kinder and more compassionate and loving and caring.  I'll be the first to admit that I've fallen a bit short in almost every category that I can conceive of, but that's okay--I'm trying my best to improve, and perhaps this next episode will bring me a new character or three to get to know who's going to help me to see things more clearly.  I'll still have some plot threads from previous episodes to resolve, but I'm looking forward to starting anew and learning more, doing more, and being more than I've ever been before.

An Annual Shift in Thinking--A Paragraph a Day

It's December 27th, which means that it's time for us to start thinking about the new year coming up, and to start thinking of things like New Year's resolutions, things we want to accomplish in the coming year, habits we want to leave behind here in the old year. . . simply a multitude of thoughts about who we want to be in the coming year versus who we have been in the current year.  Most of us look to make changes, with the assumption that changes are necessary.  We want to go into the coming year and make ourselves "better."  But in what ways are we lacking?  Yes, we all can improve in certain ways, but do we absolutely need to?  Are we not good enough as we are?  I know that I always look for areas in which I can improve, but I rarely consider making a New Year's resolution such as "continue being kind," or "keep on loving other people."  I think that what I would really like to see happen is to have the thoughts that we feel during Christmas--"What would make this person happy?" or "What can I give that will truly make a difference?"--follow us into our New Year's resolution moments so that we can resolve to be kind and loving and compassionate for an entire year, to as many people as possible.  If we would be able to do this and actually follow through on the resolutions, what a great world we could make!

Sometimes Things Come Crashing--A Paragraph a Day

I find it important to keep in mind that things like holidays can be catalysts, and not always in a good way.  This year, for example, I've experienced a great deal of loss in several different ways.  And while I'm not dwelling on the losses, once Christmas comes around, I've found that those things come back to me very quickly and very forcefully, even though I didn't know exactly what was happening.  It wasn't like I was focusing on the loss and therefore became miserable--rather, I started feeling very strange, and only after a little while did I realize exactly why I was feeling the way I was.  And if this can happen to me, then I can only imagine how other people are feeling about their own losses, many of which have been much more drastic than those I've experienced.  It's a good reminder to me to show compassion all that I can, and to withhold judgment about why people are feeling the things they feel, and reacting the ways they're reacting.  I can do much more good in the world understanding people more than I judge them, and there's nothing like a bit of my own pain to remind me just how much pain other people are feeling, usually solely as a result of outside forces.  I don't want to be the person who judges someone else and therefore decides to be judgmental rather than compassionate; I really want to be the person who shows compassion and thus helps someone else to work their way through problems they're experiencing, and there are very few teachers more effective than my own pain and loss to help me to understand the pain and loss that other people are feeling.  It's important to mourn and grieve when we feel our own loss, and it's also important to try to understand the lessons that our pain and loss are teaching us, even as we're going through the misery that we feel.  If we learn from our loss, it's a much better thing than if we just feel sorry for ourselves.

Christmas Eve--A Paragraph a Day

I really love Christmas, but I think I like Christmas Eve even better.  When Christmas Day comes, here it is, and we're in the midst of it.  And that's fine--I do my best to enjoy myself.  But when Christmas Eve is here, there's still a whole lot of anticipation in the air, the looking forward to things.  It's like having a wonderful holiday on a cozy evening full of beautiful lights and trees and music and egg nog and whatever else makes Christmas Eve for you--and still having something wonderful to look forward to.  Anticipation--looking forward to something--can be just as amazing as having experiences.  As A.A. Milne tells us in Winnie-the-Pooh,

“Well," said Pooh, "what I like best," and then he had to stop and think. Because although Eating Honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn't know what it was called.”

Every year, I love Christmas Eve.  Oddly enough, I married a woman whose birthday is on Christmas Eve, so the day is even more special now.  Christmas is wonderful, but Christmas Eve is even better, according to me.  And it's great that way--I don't have to view the holiday in the same ways that everyone else views it!