I thought 2020 had run out of curveballs to toss by the holiday season. So around Thanksgiving our family decided to tackle a home renovation project: updating our basement.

While the bad lighting, 1970s carpet and tombstone gray wall panels had served us fine for our first three years in this house, we needed a change. A contractor friend helped us with the plans and, by mid-December, the renovations were going pretty well.

One evening after the workers had left, I started making one of my favorite dinners for the family: smash burgers! Cooking them tends create a smoky house so, as that predictably happened, I turned on the hallway fan to pull some of the smoke out of the house. But as dinner preparations wrapped up, an alarm went off. Not the smoke alarm as expected, but the carbon monoxide alarm. That can also happen with smoky cooking; however, after several minutes of opening doors and windows, the CO alarm continued ringing.

My wife and I decided to call the gas company, moving dinner with the kids to out in the car until they arrived. About 10 minutes later, as we gobbled our burgers and air fryer potato wedges in our minivan, a gas rep showed up. He examined our 25-year-old boiler which we had hoped had one more winter in it, and measured the levels of CO it emitted. He then asked me what level of CO was considered safe. I told him zero. He agreed, noting that up to five parts per million (ppm) is acceptable but it still should be at zero.

Our boiler was emitting 4,000 ppm. Had the CO alarm not gone off, my family and I would not have seen the next morning.

After some failed attempts at repairs the next day, the boiler was replaced, an expense we did not foresee having to deal with.

A damp vantage point of view

A few days after the boiler incident, Christmas Eve came to our New Jersey town along with some of the strongest winds I have ever heard. The house felt like it was going to be pulled right off of its foundation. After a harrowing night of weather, the house was intact; Santa still managed to deliver, but from my point of view our backyard fence looked like an elephant had sat on it.

After a call to our insurance company, some backyard cleaning and the opening of presents, my wife decided to take care on the seemingly never-ending laundry. Near the end of the wash cycle, she headed to the garage for something and she was greeted with half an inch of water creeping across the floor. One of the pipes from the washer had dislodged. Instead of water exiting through the plumbing, it spilled out directly on to the floor and into the garage.

All this while we were still trying to finish packing for a ski trip to New Hampshire that required us leaving our seemingly cursed home for almost a week.

But were we cursed? Was it bad mojo? Would our travels end with a broken leg or a flat tire?

My mind and my wife’s raced with these kinds of thoughts as we mopped the garage and soaked up what we could with our precious supply of paper towels. We even thought about canceling our plans to go on our well-needed vacation with our good friends.

But, that “woe is me” attitude only lasted a few minutes. Our point of view changed because our minds quickly began to contemplate all the outcomes of these scenarios that could have been.

Perspective is everything

The boiler broke and was emitting CO, but our multiple alarms SAVED OUR LIVES.  Literally. We have seen it happen on the news time and time again when people don’t have alarms at all, or never change the batteries. The inconvenience of the broken boiler for a few days pales to the tragedy that could have happened.

Our fence fell down, but our home was still standing. We have insurance to help with the cost of repair. How many times have we seen tornados or fires lay waste to entire towns with families only escaping with their lives while an entire lifetime of memories are gone in a flash?

What is a minor garage flood compared to seeing entire homes underwater when riverbanks overflow in hurricanes, forcing people to their rooftops in hope of rescue from the rising water.

Now, it is OK to be upset by your circumstances. You can be angry. You can feel like your world is caving in. You’re allowed to think the elements are out to get you. Not bottling them those feelings is important because not facing those emotions can often make matters worse.

I always try to put things in perspective when it comes to my life and remember how blessed I truly am. As bad as things seem to be at any given time, sometimes the alternative could be worse. If you use the power of perspective to examine where you are in life, where you want to be and where you could be, it will greatly shape how you approach what life throws your way. And, hopefully, it will shed light on a positive way to deal with it.

Life will constantly throw curveballs your way and you won’t hit a home run every time. It’s going to be a lot of base hits and a lot strikeouts. A. LOT. But if you learn from those experience and grow, your chances of hitting it out of the park your next time at the plate might be that much easier.

Point of view photo: © patpitchaya / Adobe Stock.

A few weeks ago, my 14-year-old son, Yosef, had a decision to make. Would his fall sport of choice be football or cross country?

While insignificant compared to the major world issues engulfing the news each night, this choice was important to him. Yosef was entering a new high school where roster spots on any other athletic team would be nearly impossible to come by.

As the season drew nearer, my wife and I detected Yosef’s self-induced pressure to make a fall sports pick was mounting. My son understood his mother and I would support any decision. I’m sure my son also understood his parents approached the choice from different perspectives.

My wife is a highly competitive type who wants to win – at everything. If she senses an ability to excel, she’s in. If not, she would choose not to go through the motions. If she were faced with the same choice as Yosef, cross country would win out.

That point of view is completely defensible here. After all, Yosef weighs less than 100 pounds, and sat the bench in his one stint as a football player in a Pop Warner team several years ago. Cross country was the hands-down choice from the perspective of playing to succeed athletically.

I am less athletic and less competitive than my wife. I like to win but would not forgo participating on a team even if I’d be relegated to a full-time role on the bench. I have never been great at any sports and was more of a “social” player — more apt to focus on having fun and playing with friends versus wins and losses.

Crunch-time call

Yosef and I spent some time driving to conditioning practices over the fleeting days of summer break before he finally asked for my perspective on how for him to make his choice.

I wrestled with how to advise him, understanding my wife and I represented two divergent paths:

• Play what you’d be decent at (cross country), or,
• Play where you’d have more fun (football)

The crushing responsibility of raising a teenager into a capable, independent person weighed on me. My response could make this choice obvious or leave him to choose for himself.

“You know, the choice is yours – not mine,” I said. “I’ll support you either way and so will your mom. If I were faced with the same decisions, I’d figure out where I’d be happiest.”

As Yosef nodded his head and gazed out of the passenger window, I knew that we’d be spending the fall season on the gridiron. I have regretted giving that advice ever since.

I do not regret allowing Yosef to make the choice himself. He’s old enough to control his social calendar.

I do not feel regret knowing that my son would spend the football season buried deep on the team’s depth chart – probably never to see the field after pregame warmups.

I do not regret not trying to more directly steer him to cross country. There is always next year.

I do regret, though, punting on the opportunity to teach Yosef about making choices in life – those that have consequences beyond the equipment needed for participation.

Telling a teenager to base a decision solely on happiness might be fine for minor things — like football and cross country — and terrible for life. The truth is, very few of the decisions Yosef will make should begin with the evaluation of his assumed, resulting joy and happiness.

Happiness not always an option

Most adult choices involve boring stuff like needs and utility. Often, I make choices based on whether the means are truly worth the end. My decisions are pragmatic, logical and done after serious opining of potential consequences.

While I’m content with Yosef sitting on the sideline this football season, I am not OK with him taking such an approach to college admissions, his studies or his future career pursuits. Will Yosef, though, understand the difference?

Have I traded the short-term path of least resistance by signing my son up for a treacherous, long-term climb?

That day, I think, I was indoctrinated into the world of parenting a teen – the time in life where I’m in the passenger seat of the decision-making minivan. I would prefer to be at the wheel, controlling the route to the destination. Or, at minimum, I’d like to have one hand on the wheel so that it is impossible for Yosef to ignore my influence during the trip.

I thought about that analogy as I waited for Yosef to immerge from the locker room, in the pouring rain, after his team’s first game (an ugly 13-0 loss that was delayed by rain midway through the second half).

He seemed upbeat for having sat on the sidelines all evening.

“Man, Dad, I know I can get in there!” Yosef was quiet, but confident.

“Just keep working, man. Control what you can. Nothing in life is given,” I replied quickly.

“Yep.”

I suddenly swelled with pride. Yosef probably will not play this year, but he sure as hell will not quit.

Maybe, after all, Yosef is learning something because of making decisions based on happiness alone.  Maybe he’s learning that the perception of what will bring joy is not devoid of hard work and suffering. Maybe he’s actively redefining what his happiness looks like.

And maybe, if football continues this trajectory for the season, next year Yosef will run cross country instead – and still be happy.

Photo: © Sunny studio / Adobe Stock.

The other night I was playing a game of Chinese chess with my son. It’s something we do every so often since the day he asked me what the game with the funny markings was. As I watched him struggle and plot out his moves, I was reminded of an experience I had in Hong Kong shortly after I had learned to play the game.

I was sitting at a table in front of a copy-shop across the alley from the entrance to my apartment building in Hong Kong’s Causeway Way Bay district. Across the table from me sat the owner of that shop. We were engaged in one of the many games of Chinese chess that we played while I lived there. A bit of a crowd had gathered, as often they would, to watch the gwailouh (foreign-devil) play their game. In Hong Kong it was pretty common to see people playing Chinese chess, you didn’t often find a gwailouh playing though.

I was well on my way to losing the game, I usually lost. However, I always kept playing because it seemed I learned something new in every game. Around us, the people squawked at each other and at us, commenting on our play and what they thought we should do. The noise from the city filled the air as the business and traffic of our busy alleyway continued through the night. My opponent and I were unaffected by the cacophony surrounding us. We always played in this chaos. Strategizing, organizing, contemplating each other we set our pieces in motion across the board. We were the order in the chaos, the yin to the world’s yang. Only for a moment though, for he had perfected his order and won the match. With that, the chaos of the world around us came crashing in and we embraced it and celebrated his victory.

Learning to Walk

Thinking back on that day and the way my son was struggling to play as I had once I was reminded that learning to play “Chinese” chess, is called “learning to walk”, making it an excellent metaphor for life. We all must learn to walk.  As we walk, we will fall. The more walking we do the more prepared we are to run.  As we run, we will fall.  The more running we do the more we will want to jump. As we jump, we will fall. The jumping that we will do will encourage us to fly. Everything we learn prepares us for the next step.

Fitting into their world

This has been a reoccurring thought for me of late.  My kids are getting older now we are embarking on the teenage years, and it is very obvious that how I fit in their world is changing.  I still definitely have a role and an important one but it isn’t the same as it was when they were small.  I spent a good deal of time talking to/at my kids early on in my role as a dad. In fairness at that point, we were on very unequal footing.  I had a lot of information and they had very little.  They needed to know that touching the stove was not a good idea, or that looking for cars when we cross the street is important.  Those sort of early teaching moments really weren’t discussions they were downloaded directions.  I didn’t want them to think about those situations and decide if what I said was correct  I wanted them to recognize those situations and follow the directions they were given. I really wasn’t concerned with them thinking about it I just wanted them to “do”.

Things are changing

As we have entered the teenage years there has been a shift in how we communicate. While I still have more information than they do, they are now processing my information and comparing it to their accumulated knowledge. They are beginning to think on a very serious level. It is a challenging transition. I find I am talking with them more than to them.  Our learning moments are more conversational than purely instructional. The protector in me wants to download information like I did when they were three years old. I also, however, want them to be successful adults.  These next few years are going to be challenging because I still have that role and responsibility to keep them safe… but maybe not too safe.  I need to step back and give them a chance to use the knowledge an information they have accumulated.  They have learned to walk and they might just be ready to start running.  I guess that means I need to let it happen and be a soft place for them to fall. Perhaps that means I need to focus on being a source of good information for them while allowing them to think for themselves.

What is my job?

I’m not sure I know myself how I am going to do this. It has been 40+ years and I’m still learning the lessons I want them to know.  So as I think about the game of chess and how to best help my sons I had this epiphany. In chess, like in life, I can’t teach them all the right things to do.  Each game will be different and each experience will be different. In each game and each experience, they will learn something new (just like I have). If they do only what I tell them then they will never beat me in chess, or rather, they will never be successful. I need to adapt to how they learn now and I need to help them develop skills not just dump knowledge. It isn’t helpful to give them a guide of what to do all the time, let’s face it, that is impossible. I realized in the coming years, my job is not to tell them what to think, it is to teach them how to.

Success often comes at the tail end of hard work and overcoming setbacks.  Have you ever heard someone say:

If at first you don’t succeed…

When I was younger I studied/taught martial arts.  When I was discouraged my teacher would use a metaphor to illustrate that my failures were part of the path to success. He did this by illustrating how a samurai’s sword was formed. You see steel becomes stronger as you fold it with other materials to create layers that build strength and flexibility in the blade. Folded, fired, and hammered up to 16 times a samurai’s blade was formed through a difficult and stressful process by a master craftsman. Ultimately what is formed is a strong blade able to meet any challenge and conquer them successfully.  When I began to teach (and when I had kids) I often like sharing this metaphor because it is a great object lesson about how to use life’s difficult moments to make us stronger.

Those who are willing and accepting of their mistakes are better equipped to learn from them.

As a father that is my job to make my kids stronger for the world that is out there waiting for them. This is my chance to help them understand the value of this forging process. It starts with knowing that you are not perfect, you will fail, and you can’t avoid it. Like the blade in the metaphor the first pass is not enough.  You need to try again, be folded, fired, and reformed again and again. Until you are strong and flexible and ready to face the challenges that await.

So let’s take a look at  7 ways we can be a stronger person:

1.  Make Mistakes – I can’t emphasize this enough.  Be willing to make mistakes, whether you are willing to or not you will make them.  Those who are willing and accepting of their mistakes are better equipped to learn from them.  They will treat them accordingly and will likely succeed sooner.
2. Comparisons Lack Real Value – Too often we compare ourselves to others. That is wasting time that we could be putting in, to develop ourselves.  We don’t know all the factors and all the steps they took to be as good as they are.  Whether it is natural skill or hours of practice, the time we spend on the comparison steals time we could be developing our skills.
3. Believe in Yourself – Be willing to stand up for yourself and what you believe in.  This is easy when there is a large group that is with you, but it is more important when you are unpopular.  Confidence can only be won in these challenging scenarios.  When you have to stand up for your child against a school administration, a hospital, an insurance company, or many other challenging adversaries you’ll be glad you learned how to fight tough battles.
4. Embrace Your Weaknesses – You have weaknesses, embrace them.  You can’t minimize the effect of your weaknesses if you don’t know that you have them.  So you need to understand them, be open about them, and treat them as much a part of you as your strengths.
5. Look for Solutions – With rare exceptions, you are not the first person to deal with problems like yours.  Which is good news! It means that someone else has been in your shoes. Someone else has figured out a solution to the problem you face.  So instead of wallowing in self pity, look around to others you know.  Ask for help, find the solutions, move on to new successes.
6. Build a Network of Support – You need people.  Nobody is an island, people that are the most successful have a group of people around them that want to help them succeed.  These are people who will encourage you when times get tough, but will give you critique and correct you when you veer away from reaching your potential.  It is important to have these people in your corner, it is also important to be this type of person for others as well.
7. Learn From Your Past – You have lived a lot of life, your experiences have taught you lessons, don’t let them go to waste.  Treat your past like a user manual for the future.  Don’t remake mistakes from your past, you have figured those out. Go make new mistakes as you strive for your success.

Don’t remake mistakes from your past, you have figured those out. Go make new mistakes as you strive for your success.

Building the strength and flexibility necessary to be strong enough to face the world’s challenges is no easy task.  You must be dedicated to yourself and your success.  Don’t let the moment of struggle you are in prevent you from becoming the person you want to be.  You must bravely be the steel in the hand of a master craftsman. Be ready and willing to be formed into a powerful blade beautiful strong and true.

I want my kids to know what a  healthy relationship looks like.

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If your child were to candidly evaluate the relationship you and your spouse (or significant other) have what would they say about you?

I gave that a little space so the question could hang there for a second.  So, what do you think what is your child’s interpretation of your relationship.  It is a probably a good question to ask yourself every so often, because like it or not they are watching you.  My wife and I got the answer to this question from one of sons once.  He’d had the chance to observe other parents indirectly, and as my wife got off the phone with me he commented to her that she and I are always saying how much we love each other and seem like we like to be around each other.  Which had been in contrast to some other couples that he had observed.

This got me thinking about the example we set for our kids when it comes to personal relationships.  This probably ought to be on my list of things I want my kids to know (that list is getting longer and longer).   Since so much of what our kids learn is from example, what are we teaching them by our example in relationships?  How are we doing not only with our spouse/significant other, but with our other children, our siblings, our parents etc…

• Do you say “I love you”?
• Do you speak negatively about your relationships when the other half is not around?
• Do you find ways to be together?
• Do you share the relationship workload together?
• Do you find ways to include your children as you work through the good and the bad?
• Do your children see you resolve conflict?

I can’t presume and won’t attempt to tell anyone what should or should not work in their relationships.  I can only speak for my own, and  there are times that it is difficult to do the right thing and behave the right way.  Being aware that my children are observing my relationship is motivating to me.  It is motivating because I want them to be as happy with their partners as I am with mine.  I want them to see through my wife and I how to conduct a healthy relationship.  I want them to see through our example how we correct our course and navigate through conflicts. I want them to know it is work, sometimes hard work, but that in the end it is work that is worth the reward.  Most of all I want to know I love their Mom, and I love being their Dad!

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(This post originally appeared on The Good Men Project )