My Son Started a Blog

My older son, who--as readers of this blog already know--has struggled a lot in his life, has started a blog. It's called A tumbleweed in a traffic jam: Thoughts, stories, and ramblings from the twisted mind of a recovering addict and I think it's going to be a good thing for him. As he said in a Facebook post last night:

"Some of my blogs are short stories. Some are poems. Some are lyrics to songs I've written that just never materialized. Little bit of everything. Eventually, I'll delve a little deeper into what happened to me and what it was like. If it helps even one person, it's worth it."

My son is a terrific writer, and I'm glad he's taken the time to create this outlet for his work. I also look forward to him eventually writing about his experiences, because I know how cathartic writing can be. Getting stuff out of his head and onto paper (or, I guess, a screen) will be liberating, I'm sure.

If you have a spare few minutes, head over to my son's blog and check it out. Maybe even consider subscribing to it via email. And if you like something you read over there, leave a comment and let my son know. I think he's a little anxious about putting himself "out there," so any validation or positive feedback he gets will definitely be reassuring for him. Lord knows, that would not be a bad thing.

I love my son so much. And I'm super proud of him.

Feeling Out of Sync

My life is out of sync. For some reason, the man or woman in charge of things upstairs decided that November would be a good time to mess with me. I'm not sure if they were bored or just looking for a little extra curricular fun, but for most of this month I've felt like I'm stuck in a never-ending episode of Punk'd, minus Ashton Kutcher (thank God).

It started a few weeks ago when the "check engine" light on our 2007 Ford Focus (aka "The Silver Bullet") lit up in all its dreaded yellow glory, and it's kind of snowballed from there. If I had a dollar for every time I've said "Oh, great" or "What the fuck?" to myself since this streak started, I wouldn't have to worry about money, which is something I worry about pretty much all the time. (Living paycheck-to-paycheck is even more challenging when you've been without a regular paycheck for about three years.)

In addition to a $1,000+ repair to the Silver Bullet--which had to be done twice, because the first time the new part that was installed was defective (oh, great)--I got stuck with a $600+ repair to our 2010 Toyota Highlander. This fix is finally getting done after a surreal series of events at the Toyota dealership that had been servicing our car for the last five years or so. I didn't know that mutinies could happen at car dealers, but apparently they can. And that's what happened at my trusted dealer when all of their service people up and quit, forcing me to track down another dealer to fix my car.

What the fuck?

I know. Car repairs are, unfortunately, a part of life, but why do they always seem to rear their ugly heads at the worst possible times? I guess there's never really a good time to fork over money you don't have to fix a car. But knowing that doesn't help much. It still hurts like hell. I suppose I should just be grateful that both cars are fixable. Right??

Another bizarre thing happened to me the other day. I had ordered a sheep toilet paper holder from an online store I'd never ordered from before. It was scheduled to show up on Saturday and I was pretty excited to get it and hang it up. (Yes, things like that can be exciting when you're old.) When the postal carrier dropped off the package, I eagerly tore it open, only to find...some kind of garden sculpture made from a bunch of rocks.

Oh, great.

This is the first time anything like this had ever happened to me. The packing slip said "sheep toilet paper holder," but someone upstairs figured they'd have a laugh at my expense and sent me a box of rocks instead. Either that or someone in the Houzz warehouse was having a very bad day when they filled my order. Regardless, I couldn't help but feel a little bit like Charlie Brown on Halloween.

Other weird things have happened this month, too. I just can't remember them all. (Another side effect of getting old.) But all of the things added up make me feel like I've just been out of sync with the universe this month. When I look in the mirror lately, I half expect to see a "check engine" light glowing right smack dab in the middle of my forehead.

*sigh*

There are only two days left in November, and I can't wait for it to be over. Here's hoping December brings with it a reboot and a healthy, positive resynchronization in my world.

"Sometimes you are in sync with the times, sometimes you are in advance, sometimes you are late." --Bernardo Bertolucci

P.S. I ended up ordering the sheep toilet paper holder from another place and it arrived today. I have to say, I really like it! It adds a bit of whimsy to an otherwise boring bathroom wall. Not only that, but my wife is a knitter, so the whole "sheep" thing is a perfect fit for our crazy house. ↓

Baaaaaaa!

What the Hell Is My Purpose in Life?

What the hell is my purpose in life?

I've been struggling a lot with that question lately.

Almost four years ago, I left a company I worked for for almost 25 years. I'd grown tired of my job and felt completely stuck. I was spending eight-plus hours a day doing something I pretty much hated, just because I needed the paycheck and the benefits. That seemed completely wrong. I figured there had to be more to life, so when I was offered the chance to walk out the door with a severance package, I decided to do it.

Now--1,433 days later--I'm wondering if I made the right decision.

I left my corporate comfort zone in order to find work I could be more passionate about. I wanted to do something that met at least one of two criteria: 1.) I wanted a job I actually liked doing. And 2.) I wanted a job that made me feel like I was making a difference in the world. Ideally, I was hoping to find something that checked-off both of those things. Little did I know that finding any job was going to be way harder than I ever imagined.

The first three years of being underemployed were pretty enjoyable. I wasn't able to find full-time work, but I was able to pick up some freelance gigs that I enjoyed and brought in a little money. But this last year has been a tremendous challenge.

I was probably more than a little naive to think that cutting my household's income by more than 80 percent was going to be something my family could survive long-term. Yes, we had some savings that we'd accumulated over the years, and that was definitely going to come in handy. But I wasn't planning to still be looking for full-time work almost four years later, and that savings account wasn't that big. (Needless to say, you should see it now.)

For the last few weeks, I've found myself second-guessing my decision to leave my my job. I don't miss the job itself, but I miss the money. And the health insurance. And the 401k. And the cheap life insurance. And the five weeks of paid vacation. All of those things that kept me stuck in a place I didn't want to be for so long would certainly make providing for my family a lot easier than it is now.

Maybe providing for my family is my purpose in life. And maybe my walking away from something that enabled me to do a pretty decent job of doing that was a huge mistake. Honestly, I don't even know anymore.

If you ask people what the purpose of life is, you'll get a bunch of different answers. To love. To help others. To make a difference. To be happy. To explore and experience. Etc. Mind you, those are all good answers. But none of them are resonating with me these days. To be totally honest, I've been feeling more than a little lost lately. I keep asking myself, Why exactly am I here??

Yesterday was particularly tough for me. After paying some bills and looking at the minuscule amount of money that was left in our checking account, I started doubting myself again. Hard. I even told my wife that I didn't know what my purpose was anymore. And then I realized: Maybe I've never known what my purpose is.

It's probably just coincidence that last night's episode of This Is Us had finding your purpose in life as a central theme. And it's probably just another coincidence that Sam Lamott posted the first episode of his How to Human podcast yesterday and the subject was "Finding Your Purpose." Total coincidences, right???? Or maybe someone out there/up there is trying to tell me that I need to figure some things out. Maybe someone is trying to tell me that by age 56, I'm supposed to know what the hell I'm doing here.

Unfortunately, right now, I don't.

I'd be curious to know if anyone else is struggling with this whole "What's my purpose in life?" thing. Or if you've struggled with it in the past, how you dealt with it. I can't be the only one. Can I?

Feel free to leave your comments down below. And, as always, thanks for reading.

"The two most important days in your life are the day you were born and the day you find out why." --Mark Twain

Coffee Break

If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter, you probably already know that I recently attempted to become a barista at Starbucks in order to bring in some extra money. Alas, I only lasted a few days. But at least I got a good story out of it. And I'm happy to say that story was just published on Hello Humans, a website that describes itself as a place to "Celebrate the human-ness we all share. The unvarnished, the dirty, the small steps and big crashes, the small victories, and the breakthroughs."

It's also very cool that the Hello Humans site is the brainchild of Sam Lamott, who just so happens to be the son of my favorite author, Anne Lamott. (I have to say: the awesomeness of that is not lost on me.)

So, do me a favor and head over to Hello Humans and read my piece, which is entitled "Coffee Break." And while you're there, maybe look at some of the other stories, too. There's a lot of really great writing there from "storytellers who capture the truth of what it means to be human."

Like the "About Us" page of the Hello Humans site says: "The internet is full to the brim with 'gurus' and 'experts' who are happy to tell you about their successes, their methods, their shiny lives. While we believe that sharing success is important, we believe deeply that the discovery process, with all its missteps, pivots, and do-overs, is what connects and inspires us--not the final destination. After all, isn’t it obvious that there never was a final destination to begin with?"

Amen to that.

Here's a direct link to my story:

Coffee Break

I'd love to hear what you think of it, so feel free to leave a comment underneath it on the Hello Humans page.

Peace.

It didn't last very long, but it sure was an adventure.