Category: Acquired Wisdoms

Frank and Bill – The Tale of Two Fathers

If you have been a young child of divorce, you know the agonizing feeling of loss buried deeply under glimmering hope, wishful thinking and a blatant aversion to reality. Pretending, escaping and willing it away with every breath, longing for the return to normalcy are efforts in futility.

If you have been a young child of divorce lucky enough to be blessed with a second father, then you know the peace and joy that can emerge out such a devastating scenario. I am grateful that one of the most unfortunate situations in my young life grew to be one of the most fortunate.

As I say in nearly every post, I am where I am because of where I have been. As such and without doubt, my two fathers have been the most influential men in my life, albeit through vastly different examples.

Frank was a non-conformist Hungarian refugee who colored outside of the lines in every aspect of his life. He was sophisticated, worldly, cultured, artistic, philosophical, conversational, passionate, carefree, and wounded. He loved the Mamas and the Papas and Picasso, the Pacific Ocean and sailing.

He lived a minimalist laissez-faire life and believed rules were meant to be eradicated.

Frank was into vinyl records.

Bill was an Irish Catholic career military pilot who, before becoming a corporate pilot, retired after 28 years of service as a Lieutenant Colonel. He was disciplined, focused, strict, organized, loyal, humble, stoic, and soft spoken. He loved flying planes, fishing, skiing and tinkering in the garage or yard.

He believed rules were meant to be followed.

Bill was into encyclopedias.

By virtue of their differences, I am the best part of both. Frank, through his influence and struggles taught me resilience, perseverance and compassion. How to be aware and mindful, how to overcome adversity, what inclusion looks like and why it matters. We share the same passions for music, art, the ocean and sailing.

Bill, through his regimented influence and example taught me discipline, order, organization, humility, and loyalty. His favorite saying… ‘it’s water under the bridge,’ through which I learned not to hold a grudge, or wallow in things I couldn’t control. After hearing it so much, it got me thinking why I couldn’t push it back up stream to make it come down differently, something I reference to this day. I ski because of him. I teach skiing to others because of him.

I have five step brothers and sisters, nieces, nephews, and a vast extended family I would not know and love otherwise.

These traits were realized through time and maturity. In fact, many took years, even decades, for me to recognize and embrace. Like a diamond in the rough, time fortified the inherent truths of my traits and the source of such wisdom. With hindsight and reflection, I see that now. The tale of two fathers, their influence and infinite presence always traveling on my left shoulder!

RIP Frank E. Kalapos – February 12, 1935 – November 10, 1988

RIP Lt. Colonel, William J. McElroy III – September 5, 1927 – June 7, 2022

Forever in my heart and on my left shoulder!

To Concede or Not to Concede?

That is the question!

You can’t have lived a day of life without bumping up against failure. Real or imagined, it looms around the corner waiting patiently to trounce on your next hope filled endeavor. Whether athletic, professional or esoteric, our dreams cannot be dreamt of without the gnawing possibility of their immediate evaporation.

Do we save ourselves the agony of eminent defeat by squashing them before they are realized or exert only a halfhearted effort because we know “it just wasn’t meant to be?” A self-fulfilling prophecy whose path we laid with sparkles and walked upon with trepidation. Welcome to failure-dom. Please step to the back of the line, we knew you’d be back.

If we are where we are because of where we have been then our past failures become our future successes, that is if we choose not to concede. Losing sucks! What we do in the face of its full-on tackle will determine every step we take forward from that moment. Not the act of failing itself, more the mental concession to our subconscious and the negative energy it perpetuates. Do we kick dirt on it and turn on our heels or dust off the ole shoes and embrace the next trepid ride?

I’ve done both but favor going down kicking and screaming. Fortunately, this pattern showed me the worth of the many bumps and bruises I endured. They revealed the submission to failure grew from insecurity and thrived in hesitation. I granted permission to question my strength, my ability and my self-worth. The consequential outcome fed hesitation like a spreading cancer stifling any glimmer of hope or resolve. It kept pointing its finger right back at me, the sole saboteur of my own future successes.

Connecting me and my actions to the outcomes, seemingly simple yet elusive, changed how I moved forward. I have had endless support in my life, but there have been times in both my business and writing endeavors that I was told to quit or give up or “you can never do that.” I am grateful for the challenge that emerged from their doubt. I had a point to prove! I dug in my heels deeper and pushed harder.

Fortunately, I was raised to see my life as limitless, everything is within reach. I know in my gut that I can do anything I put my mind to and had I quit before I failed, I would have never realized success. The beauty of life’s greatest successes is they emerge from the shadows of failure.

So, fight like hell in opposition. Put every ounce of effort into failing. Quitters never win because they avert any and all opportunity to fail. An opportunity to fail is not a failure, it is a chance to win.

I am fortunate to have grown through my failures. Why not throw in the towel, fall on the sword and concede defeat? Because no growth is found on Easy Street. The glass can’t be half full if there is a hole in the bottom. Failure in effort is a great success because of the lessons it reveals.

It is a huge win in my book.

Losing Sucks!

Especially the tried your hardest, hope-to-win, feel it in your gut, but still lost, kind of losing. Even more especially if you are someone like me, a purveyor of wins. I win! I get shit done! I stay focused on the journey despite the path.

Easy, because most wins are relative, that is, unless there is a prize involved. Then it is either you’ve got it, or you don’t. You won or you lost. It is black and white, not gray. Your prize is shiny and bright. It is embossed, polished, engraved, laden in gold or adorned by a ribbon in the firsts of primary colors.

Fall short of that and it’s, “Nice try.” “Better luck next time.” “Everything happens for a reason.” The pretend compassion that reeks of cliché-ick apathy. Or worst of all, the loudest of silent voices, “What in the hell were you even thinking?”

While most of my life’s wins fall under the subjective umbrella – still a win because the glass is half full kind of win, a recent loss really sucked! It was a blow that left me gasping for every breath in my depleted worth.

I must trace my steps back to my high school athletic endeavors to even get close to this feeling. In those days, losing produced a gut ache so painful that tears found their way down my cheek. Typically, it was my shallow perspective on a specific reason that produced the loss… missed the jump shot at the buzzer, put the wrong wax on my skis, or was just simply out played.

They were not losses at the core of my identity rather ones that ran along side of it. This loss lives much closer to the core of my identity. It was full-on rejection.

I attended a Writer’s Workshop and there learned of their writing contest. Top prize, a $10 GRAND advance and a publishing contract!! Yes, please!! The only prerequisites of the contestants; attend a writer’s workshop, be a writer, submit a book proposal, and sit back to wait for the bells to ring and confetti to fall. I was confident there was no possibility of losing.

Losing, failing and rejection are the masks of opportunity. Yeah, yeah, yeah… I mean, I have gotten where I am in life believing that, but it doesn’t take away the monumental punch in the gut that lies in their wake. If we are where we are because of where we have been, then tomorrow isn’t what it will be without yesterday. Deal and move on.

While the rejection left me feeling depleted I was not to be deterred. After some time and the replenishment of my self-worth, I jumped back in the deep end and didn’t look back.

To some, it is a bit of a stretch to think of me as a writer. I mean, it seems that you either have always been one, or you are not. I landed somewhere in the middle. Dating back to the days of writing for my college paper, I have always loved the spoken leverage in the written word. Its strength and power exist without interruption, without the risk of deaf ears or a closed mind.

Writing is where I find my voice, even if only for myself. If you are reading this now, then I don’t have to worry about whether you are listening, whether your phone will ding with some notification, or if it’s time to put the laundry in the dryer. If you are reading you are listening. Agree or not with the message, at least I have your attention.

Regret

If you could change something about your past, would you? Would you if every single moment from that space in time also changed? We can’t isolate one event or interaction with an eye for a do-over without it impacting every second from that moment forward. If you haven’t seen the 1998 film, Sliding Doors with Gwyneth Paltrow, or need a refresher, check it out. It is a great theatrical example of this.

“I am where I am because of where I have been, I can’t push water back upstream and make it come down differently.” This is something I say, or at least think, a lot! This is certainly not the most consequential news of the day. Every second of every step I have taken preceding this exact moment in time holds purposeful meaning, it lands me at this precise juncture.

What happens if we can’t rationalize where we are? What if you missed the train? If we are where we are because of where we have been then everything is as it should be. As with all seemingly impractical matters of the heart and mind, such a shift in thinking is much harder than we imagine it to be. Why is it so much easier to beat ourselves up for something we can’t change than accept it for what it is?

When I think about my choices and the direction they have taken me, I can’t help but continue to remind myself that all is as it should be. Even if the outcomes are not ideal, what good does it do to labor over something I can’t control?

For me, facing adversity head on was an acquired mindset requiring thoughtful practice. Fortunately, something time was able to deliver. Prior to this, I second guessed myself, carried doubt and what if’d my days away. I have visualized my futile attempt at trying to capture the water and get it back up the stream from where it came.

Shoulda, woulda, coulda, the three most detrimental alliances capable of thwarting our hopes and dreams. The doubt that is cast over our aspirations cannot be realized in their over shadowing presence. It is unproductive and paralyzing. Regret is a heavy burden that looms around all our future endeavors.

Imagine spending your life thinking you should have done something differently. Unless you are sitting in jail for a wildly egregious crime, it is a monumental waste of time. Spiraling in the swarm of regret disables so many opportunities and possibilities.

I know this because I have done both. Fully embracing my past and the gain that arose from pain, enables me to persevere through the most trying circumstances. I would not change one thing in the past, including the most excruciating among them. Rather than wallow in regret, I choose to focus on the tools the lesson provides.

Living without regret does not absolve us of the mistakes that were made, rather it creates a space for compassion and forgiveness to emerge. Smooth seas do not hone the skills of a good sailor for a reason. If life proceeded in perfect balance and harmony, what would you do when the shit hit the fan and the boat was on the verge of capsizing?

Man the helm, ease the sheets, batten down the hatches, and ride the storm. The sun rises every day and calm seas will return.

Life in Death Situation

The author shares their experience with death when their father passed away unexpectedly at the age of 24. This led to self-questioning and emotional struggling, referred to as ‘wallow-dom’. In dealing with this grief, the author found solace in M. Scott Peck’s book, ‘The Road Less Traveled’. The book’s message about the presence of death, as an ally and counselor, helped the author embrace life more fully, drawing explicit connections between death, life, love, honesty, and expression.

The precarious nature of our existence is never clearer than in the face of death. If mistakes are life’s pencil sharpener, then death smacks of ridiculous frickin clarity, that is if you are paying proper attention. As with all life events innately designed to have you on your ass buried in the weeds, death attached to someone with whom you share the same DNA is the international champion of such events. The prize, a gold-plated shovel necessary to dig the hole to wallow-dom. Welcome to the club for you have arrived.

I was 24 years old when my father died unexpectedly. Before my head stopped spinning, I had pitched a tent in wallow-dom. Second guessing took the first of many prizes pacing neck in neck with what if’s. If the club had a secret handshake, I mastered it with my eyes closed.

Resources were scarce, and compassionate knowing nonexistent in my cavalier life that just delivered my first real job and bills to pay. In the 80’s people whispered cancer in fear of being discovered so facing death was best done alone. No RIP social media posts granting space for hashtag empathy. Deal and move on please, you are blocking the entrance!

Through her bionic wisdom, capable of scaling mountains, climbing down deep holes and crossing oceans, my mother delivered something that helped me pack up my tent and leave wallow-dom – M. Scott Peck’s, The Road Less Traveled. Beautifully tattered and yellowed after 35 years as a reference, it is a timeless must read for those seeking a deeper meaning in life.

The Road Less Traveled

I read this book two separate times, 23 years apart. I derived separate and significant insights each time. Like a fine wine, the message aged well and spoke more broadly to me and the areas of my life that time had tested.

Immediately after my father’s death, one of my many answerless questions… Does the pain of death perpetuate death (physically or spiritually) or life? Page 133, delivered my answer. This is a glimpse of why Peck’s book has sold over seven million copies and why it is clearly, a life in death situation:

“If we can live with the knowledge that death is our constant companion, traveling on our left shoulder, then death becomes our ally and a source of wise counsel. With death’s counsel, the constant awareness of the limit of our time to live and love, we can always be guided to make the best use of our time and live life to the fullest. But if we are unwilling to fully face the fearsome presence of death on our left shoulder, we deprive ourselves of its counsel and cannot possibly live or love with clarity. When we shy away from death, the ever-changing nature of things, we inevitably shy away from life.”

Can I get a mic drop please? Even today, these words produce goose bumps and make my heart race. What a gift! They made me feel lucky to have lived and survived a death of such significance in my young life. What a blessing, always ‘traveling on my left shoulder.’ Death’s presence perpetuates life, love, honesty, openness, expression, and the values inherent within them. No room for complacent wimps. Next in line, please step to the front.