Park Placards

I was embarrassed. Or was it my ego knocking at the door? Both maybe. Either way I felt uncomfortable. It had been a while. It was unsettling and yet familiar.


The evening sun was lowering over the baseball diamond where my son and a collection of other young hopefuls were enjoying the first practice of the season. They scrambled about after the ball similar to the action you see when you throw a handful of corn to chickens. To many of them it was yet another step toward their image appearing on a box of Wheaties, to others–a great way to spend time with friends and family.

A handful of the parents sat on the aluminum bleachers. Introductions were extended as were idle pleasantries.

“That my son, the one with the blue shirt, grey shorts.”

“Great! Mine is the one with the yellow shirt and baseball pants.”

A smile of acknowledgment and then a reflective pause.

The conversations ensued around me.

“So, what do you do?”

The responses of the other parents contained a collection of letters I have not heard since my last bowl of alphabet soup.

“I am an XYZ from OSU with a PHD and an MBR and MNY from BYU...”

“That’s fantastic! I am an alum of OU with an MBA and a DNA from PU as well as a JKL from MNOP.”

Intelligent laughter bonded the two.

I put in my iPod headphones.

In my mind it went-

“So what do you do Tony?”

“I invented space travel, post-it notes, human reproduction, milk shakes, and a cure for cancer!”

“Really!!?” They respond astounded by my brilliance.

“No. I am an unemployed ex-hairdresser who can make a killer peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

The laughter further crushing, making me even doubt my sandwich making prowess.

I left as they discussed their achievements. They were not bragging, just bonding and sharing. I walked the circumference of the park. I enjoyed the reflection, the balmy wind, and the sunset. I felt a bit small at the moment. Here I was in mid-life with nothing going on, no business card, feeling as worthless as a breast augmentation coupon to a nun.

I wrestle with where I am at times. I believe I have noble intentions. I do want to make a difference, but am I? Should I just say “screw it” and take the first job that offers a check, forget my dreams of helping others and be able to at least feel like a contributor? It’s coming way to slow for me.

I am well aware that often rewards are found only a few paces beyond where the mediocre give up. I need to practice what I preach. I have always said that my greatest fear is not my inability to practice what I preach, but my inability to become aware when I am not doing so.

I continued my walk around the park. I encountered laughter, sports, children, and nature. I reveled in the brilliant orange glow of the progressing sunset. I noticed my surroundings. The park benches called to me.

Each bench had its own placard at its base– a small metal plaque with the name or names of those who were to be honored or remembered upon initial glance and reflection. I wondered, “Will I ever be worthy of a park bench plaque? What does it take? Will I be easily forgotten? Do I matter?”

I continued and saw each bench and many trees had a placard with yet another name or two. They must have been special people. I guess I realized that I did not need to know them or their achievements to appreciate their time before me. “Good for you,” I thought.

I reflected upon the “alphabet soup” I listened to earlier. “Good for them,” I thought. They should be proud, and so should I. I refuse to compare who I am, where I am going, and the depth of the contribution I share on this planet by comparing myself to others of dissimilar paths.

I am a healer, coach, mentor, father, husband, and swell guy.

Earlier that day as I was having brunch with my folks, I received a random text. It was from a young lady I had spoken with about a year ago pertaining to certain challenges she faced that were harming her mentally, physically, and causing her family distress. She thanked me stating I “saved her life” in the first few months of her battle.

Later that afternoon, I reached out to a friend who had a recent stumble in his own battles. He thanked me for making contact and for the words of encouragement. Hopefully I made a difference.

I took my son to fly his first kite later that day watching his eyes light up as he held the power of flight in his hands.

I saved lives, encouraged lives, and enriched lives in one afternoon.

I don’t know what “alphabet soup” would encompass that. I do not know how I could put that on a business card. I doubt I will be issued a W-2 this year for my accomplishments. I don’t care as I do not need letters, papers, or a business card to feel like I “matter.” I will figure out how to make this financially viable someday. I feel I am still on the right path.

As I respectfully thanked everyone for coming to my pity party, I also thanked Ardith, Byron, and Paul for sharing their benches and shade with me as I sorted out the "stuff." Although I may not get my own park bench placard someday, the couple of texts I got, and the “I love you Dads” I got that day are all the recognition I need.

How to get in a "Really good place"...

A few days shy of my chosen month-long break, I find myself returning here inspired. After recently closing my business and handling the related financial and legal circumstances, I return to you not lesser of a man, but more so.

Being currently “in-between” jobs (P.C. vernacular for “unemployed”) I find that I have a bit more “flex-time” without the urgency of having to dart off to unlock doors, turn on lights, and heat up curling irons to prepare for my day. (I was a hairdresser in a past life.) This leaves me a few extra minutes to browse my email, web sites, news, and social networks. Although my domestic duties have expanded exponentially, as they should, I do not currently have an appointment book to dictate my pace of cleaning, groceries, cooking, and errands.

Today’s social network reading led me to stumble upon a couple friends exchanging pleasantries and one mentioned being “in a really good place.” Inspiration to write ensued...

I wondered, “What do we have to endure to get into a really good place?” Is it by comparison? Is it by fortune? Is it divinely bestowed upon us? What do we do to deserve it?

I also reflected that as I glance over my shoulder to my own past, what did I consider the “really good places?”

I found that it was often after the storms have passed.

I found that it was after taking a personal inventory of what I was surrounded with and those I loved.

I realized that I was not as bad off as what I perceived.

I realized I was still, at my worst, more fortunate that a large percentage of the planet.

I also realized I had a lot of ownership in the timing of when I realized most of this.

I also realized I can be in a really good place a lot sooner than I expected.

What we focus on is what we see. If we only choose to focus on what we are lacking, we are distracted away from the blessings we currently have. Often it is these blessings that will be the life preservers that keep us afloat in the torrents to come.

When we feel that things are most bleak, I find that a simple emotional detour is to take a moment to reflect on the things I have now that were once goals–some of them once perceived as lofty or unobtainable. At one time I could never picture owning a home, being in a partnership with a beautiful caring wife, and being the father of two loving kids. I have traveled; I have and have had toys. I’ve done stuff that I never thought I could at one time.

So I lost a business. Okay it sucks, but at least I had one to lose and it taught me a lot. The memories both good and bad are priceless. They also allowed me opportunities I would never have been able to achieve without it. I gained more than I lost. (Not financially)

I have battled addiction, estrangement, financial disappointment, conflict, illness, family cancer, challenges of faith, and damn have they made me stronger, wiser, more compassionate, and respectful of others to a degree that I would never have had not going through them. God sent me to college.

We must endure the sweat and pain to get the buff body. We must endure the knife, to remove that which ails us. We take a punch to know how to keep our guard up. We must lose to know the value of that which we hold. Love must sometimes leave our presence for us to realize the preciousness of its gift when we have it.

We can choose the frame we put around our life’s picture. We can choose our perspective. As I reflect, I see that the times I said I was in “a good place” were only as a result of the chasms I had crossed to get there. I see every, yes every challenge I have had, has eventually paid off in either wisdom, appreciation, thankfulness, and gratitude for where I end up. In seeing this, it allows me to say a humble “thank you” for every situation, no matter how perceptively challenging at the present, as a step on the journey to my eventual benefit. And yes I do fight this at times...

Sparing the details of a current situation that many would consider “devastating”, I find that where I am now is a “really good place.” I have decided to study the alchemy of turning a bad situation into a blessing. It will be. I just have to be patient. Although I may not be at my chosen destination, I can stick my head out the window, breeze in my hair, as I travel the road from one “really good place” to the next. Care to join me?