How to Make Chicken Salad

Young Man, you have spent much of the last twenty-some years afraid. Afraid that you aren’t good enough, that you won’t live up to expectations. Afraid of disappointing your father. When you went to college you chose Virginia Military Institute where they promised to make you a man. But they didn’t. You chose to become a Marine where they promised to make you a strong man. But they didn’t. Remember what the Gunny at Office Candidate School said? “You just can’t make chicken salad out of chicken shit.” Isn’t that what you have always been afraid of?

“Afraid? Not me you crazy old man.” Of course, you’d say that, after all, fear is a weakness and one thing you cannot be is weak.

Perhaps someday, through the miracle of time travel, you will be able to see what I see. That you turned out alright. That your father would be very proud. That he was always very proud. And maybe, just maybe, you will see that you are good enough.

If you could see that, how would that change your life? What could you accomplish if you began to find the personal strength that vulnerability brings? How would it change your future if you were able to be less defensive with others and instead try to really understand them? What they are afraid of? What could you accomplish if what you cared the most about was finding the best answer, not being the best answer?

And I wonder, if you could travel through time, how would it change me today? Do I really know who you are? That was so many years ago. Where did I lose touch with you? I am sorry I let that happen. I have been trying so hard to get to know you again. To understand you. 

So, if someday time travel becomes a reality, and you find yourself here in 2018, I hope we can spend time getting to know each other. I also hope you will get to know Jonathan and Jennifer. You will love them. I could not be prouder of them. They are without question the two biggest blessing in my life.

Today they are exactly where you are in life, and perhaps, you can both learn a thing or two together.

Strength and Regret

I will always remember, and forever regret, the last conversation I had with my father. My father was a good man. He loved and cared deeply for his family, that was never a doubt to me or anyone who knew him. Dad, was also a strong man for who anger was the only emotion he showed easily. So, in early 2007 when my brother, Mike, and I decided we needed to take his car away from him, Dad was livid. The last time my father and I spoke was not too long after that and ended with me pushing him against the wall and yelling at him. He tried to threaten me, to exert his dominance as he had done for 48 years but I wouldn’t let him. I had to prove I was right. That I was stronger and more powerful. Not only did I take away his car but then I took away his dignity and showed him just how old and powerless he had become. We never spoke again. He died in May 2007. If there is anything in life I would like to have back it is that day.

My brother is seven years older than me and, as his first child and oldest son, Mike enjoyed much of our father’s attention growing up. Basketball, football, baseball. I suspect Dad loved having a young son. I remember him telling us how important it was that we were both successful and were able to have a better life than he did. Dad grew up with a father that believed in extremely harsh treatment when children misbehaved so Dad’s attention also brought very firm discipline for Mike. By the time I came along seven years later Mike, and my mom, had paved the road for me so my childhood was very different than his. That was the first of many things my big brother did for me over the years. If I got in a fight with the school bully, he was there to help me out. When I took my first job in sales he taught me everything he knew about being successful. When I divorced my first wife he was there for me. He has always been there for me. Helping me. Paving the way.

I think it was also about seven years before I was diagnosed with Macular Degeneration that Mike received similar news from his doctor. Yet once more leading the way for me. Most recently he has been faced with a new challenge; today it’s cognitive impairment. I remember Mike telling me one of the last times he and I spoke several months ago that his two biggest fears in life were losing his eye sight and losing his mind. How scary it must be for him now.

Being a good Texan and a staunch conservative, Mike believes in exercising his second amendment rights and carried a concealed weapon. Personally, I do not have issues with responsible gun ownership but poor eyesight and cognitive impairment; well perhaps you see where this story is going. We don’t talk anymore.

I guess I could fly to Texas and bang on his door and demand that we talk but I know how that story ends. He is my father’s son for sure and he is angry.

I miss my big brother. He is the only living sole who has known me for nearly 60 years now. I wish I had the benefit of his insight on the mutual challenges we face with our vision. I wish I could be there to help him, as he has done so many times for me, as he faces whats before him now. And I wish my big brother were here to help me come to terms with my own fear, that perhaps we are both running out of time and he is leading the way for me yet once more.

Wide Angle Lens

My closest friends have all asked me some variation of the same question; what is my vision like? I get it, if you care about someone, you really want to understand the things that impact their lives. I appreciate that.

Like most people, for the vast majority of my waking hours, I don't think of my eyesight at all. I am focused on what I am doing at the time; reading email, meeting with clients, photography, listening to music, talking to friends or loved ones. While my right eye is pretty bad these days, my left eye is actually 20/20 with my glasses on, and I have a very weak prescription. The challenge is, that is in a very narrow field of view. Imagine looking through a tube. If I look at your face, I see you with somewhat of a slightly soft focus. If I look directly at your left eye I see it very clearly, but I can barely make out your right eye, or your smile. Or if you quickly point to something while I am looking at your face I may miss what you pointed at all together. All the while, my peripheral vision does not appear to be affected. I see the environment I am in such as the forest or a room, but peripheral vision is rather low resolution, so that image isn’t sharp. If something in my peripheral vision catches my attention my eyes try to snap to that image, using my compromised macula. The result is I am now suddenly looking through that “tube.” If I am to take in the entire scene in front of me in sharp focus, I have to rapidly scan what’s in front of me. A rather strange thing to adapt to.

I am not sure why I started writing, or continue to write this blog. That's a question I ask myself, and likely something that at least a few of you who read this have asked as well. I am not sure I can answer that question with any reasonable degree of confidence. What I know is that I am on a journey. I am not sure where that started or where I am going but I know without a question, it’s a journey. Something I never really understood less than ten years ago.

Over the last six or seven years I have found myself looking to find more creative outlets; a renewed interest in music, photography, and now writing. I assume these creative outlets are to fill some "gap" I felt through much of my life. Whatever it is, it seems that as my eyesight narrows my perspective seems to broaden.

Someday, my retina specialist tells me my field of vision will drop to zero and all I will see wherever I look will be completely black. My peripheral vision will apparently remain. The way I envision that is I will be able to take in the landscape without ever seeing any detail. I wonder how that will feel?

My hope is that as my field of view decreases and my perspective on life broadens I will find reward in the bigger things in life, without getting dragged down by the details; as has dominated my life so far.

Discovery Trail

While doing a guided mediation recently, the woman who was leading it asked that we think of the one thing we most wanted in life. One word, or a simple phrase. The first thing that came to mind.

I was shocked how quickly and dramatically the word jumped into my mind; Peace. It's not something I remember ever thinking about before. I even went back and tried on all the usual ones, health, happiness, security, wealth but none of them was as brilliant in my mind as Peace.

Over the last five years, I have had a front row seat to a slow but undeniable change in my eye sight. I honestly don’t think I realize just how much my vision has changed, although there are plenty of queues. But why Peace? Why not Health, or even Vision?

For me, the mid-life crisis began somewhere around the fall of 2008. It was textbook, and for anyone other than my wife (now ex-wife), our children, and me, it was a rather uninteresting cliché. For our family it was devastating. The reality didn't catch up with me until three years later when I suddenly found myself in complete crisis. I remember that day as if it was yesterday. I was 52 years old and I suddenly realized I had not a clue of who I was. I could no longer deny the mounting evidence in front of me, I was not the guy I thought I was. The man I had fabricated over the last half century to fit the role I was supposed to play.

Knowing I needed help, I found a therapist and scheduled my first meeting. Having never been in individual counseling I thought it would be helpful to come prepared with a "few" notes about why I was there to see him. Imagine sitting alone in a quiet room with only a trained therapist as he carefully reads six, single-spaced, printed pages of you pouring your heart out, with him periodically peering over the pages and saying "hmm". To this day I still laugh out loud when I think about it. I was so lost, but I don't remember thinking; I want Peace.

Over the next few years, I saw my therapist, Brent, regularly and it was likely one of the best decisions of my life. I was fortunate, that not only did I have Brent working with me but the company I work for had invested in partnering with Dr Charlie Palmgren on the development of leadership training. The training centered around helping our leaders learn a little bit about authenticity and helping them see how failing to recognize their own self-worth, and the resulting insecurities can get in the way of developing creative and productive relationships with their team members and colleagues. A gross oversimplification of a very powerful and compelling concept. Through the participation in, and the delivery of, many sessions with our leaders I learned a lot about self-awareness, authenticity, and vulnerability; I learned a lot about me. I will be forever thankful to Charlie, who today I am fortunate to call a friend, for what he taught me and several others.

What I also learned is that real self-awareness is a double-edged sword. Going through life blind feels far less risky than with even a little bit of awareness. Of course, the operative word there is "feels." The more I try to remain true to the authentic me, the choices I make, and the impact I have on others, the scarier it gets, because I am aware of how my decisions and actions impact others. The other downside of awareness is that every question I answer about myself only presents two more questions yet to be answered. It feels just like the never-ending journey I guess it is. Can you ever really be completely self-aware?

Is that why Peace immediately jumped to mind as the thing I wanted most?

So, if I am to take anything from all this, I think it is that if I really want to find true peace, I need to learn to embrace the journey of self-discovery and stop trying to find the answer, because there isn't one.

Yet one more, work-in-progress.

Shades of Gray

When I decided I wanted to learn about photography I jumped in with both feet. I read everything I could, watched videos, talked to friends, read magazines, and practiced, practiced, practiced. I learned a lot about theory and technique. What doesn’t come natural to me is the creativity that it takes to make the difference between a good shot and one that truly captures the imagination.

Creativity isn’t something that comes easy to me, and probably many others. I grew up in a family that was very private. We didn’t talk about our fears. We didn’t take chances with emotions. For my father, in particular, things were always very Black and White. We loved to debate things, sometimes very passionately, and while our dinner discussions frequently got extremely colorful they were always “safe.” Emotionally Black and White. My brother and I were taught, if not through words but actions, to be strong, not show weakness, and that vulnerability was bad.

Now through the distance of time I have begun to realize that, while it isn’t easy for a guy like me, vulnerability brings tremendous strength and I believe it is a key ingredient to creativity. It is that Gray space between the extremes of Black and White. It’s where the truth lies.

To be creative you have to take chances. That means someone won’t like it, and that can hurt. We are programmed, starting as a child, to avoid pain. So, when your father tells you vulnerability is bad, you do your best to be “strong” and not show emotions for fear of being judged; fear of being hurt. So, I spent most of my life in what I saw as safe; the Black and White.

What I have only recently begun to understand is just how harsh Black and White can be. It is that Grey space in between the extremes where the beauty lies.

In my life, that lack of authenticity has not only stifled the creativity I need for great photography it has hurt me in every human interaction I have had over the years. There are countless situations I can think of over the years but none as painful as a failed marriage after 17 years and two wonderful children. To me, it is clear, the single biggest issue was that neither one of us was willing to be truly vulnerable with the other. We were both raised to be strong. Don’t show emotions. Black and White. How could there be any other outcome?

Over the last several years I have worked hard to find out just who I really am; the

authentic me. It is far harder than I imagined. While there is only one Black and one White, there are infinite tones of Gray. It is only fitting that there are two accepted spellings. When you paint with only two colors the choices are easy. When the palette is infinite it is so much harder to choose. It takes a willingness to be wrong, to accept that not everyone will like my ideas, my thoughts, my photography, me. What I am finding is that just the opposite has happened and, perhaps most importantly, I am learning to like myself.

Today my life is so different than it was just half a dozen years ago. I am married to a wonderful woman who truly appreciates and encourages me to explore and share the shades of Grey within me. I am blessed to have my two amazing children in my life, although I miss my daughter terribly and I have amazing friends who love and care for me, the real authentic me; as best as I know him today.

So, while many people have complimented me on my photography, for which I am immensely grateful, more often than not, I can only see what’s missing. That will be a work-in-progress for the rest of my life; and not just in photography.