When I turned 20…  I wondered if I would ever bench press 200 pounds.

When I turned 30… I wondered if I would ever weigh less than 200 pounds again.

When I turned 20…  I was sure that Friends was the best show on TV.

When I turned 30… I was sure that LOST was the best show on TV… ever!

When I turned 20…  I was sure that my closest college friends would remain my best friends for life.

When I turned 30… I still believed that, and finally stopped pining for a time machine to go back to those good ol’ days.

When I turned 20…  I was positive that I would be a Christian minister for the rest of my life.

When I turned 30… I sat back and counted eight different full time jobs within several different career paths over the past decade.

When I turned 20…  I marveled at the spiritual themes in The Matrix, and congratulated myself for being so spiritual to “get” all of them.

When I turned 30… I play a sort of pin the tail on the donkey with everything, and God is there… every time.

When I turned 20…  I wondered what there was left in life to learn, because I had figured out so much already.

When I turned 30… I appreciated each new day as an opportunity to learn something new.

When I turned 20…  I knew the woman that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

When I turned 30… I spent many months without her, and I still knew that she was the woman for me.

When I turned 20…  I dreamed about how I could change the world.

When I turned 30… I reflected on how much the world had changed me.

When I turned 20…  I believed that Phoenix, AZ was the best place in the world to live.

When I turned 30… I still believed that Phoenix, AZ was the best place in the world to live, but that an amazing life is possible anywhere.

30 has always seemed like a magical year for me.  Jesus got his show on the road around this age. Siddhartha began his path towardsenlightenment after 29 years on the earth.  My mother was 30 years old when she gave birth to me.  So there are various reasons as to why this birthday is significant for me.

I don’t want to fall into a trap of feeling like I have “arrived”, but I’m looking forward to some geographical, financial, and vocational stability in my life for a change.  Time will tell if that is what my thirties have in store for me.  I’m finally ready to start them… tomorrow.  Tonight, I’m going to go kiss my kids goodnight and know that if it all ended, I would still count myself as blessed.

Namaste.

I have a lot of goals.  One of them involves becoming a better facilitator.  Another involves becoming a better communicator.  Still another is about being a wise man.  A few months back, a local college preparatory school asked if I would be interested in substitute teaching.  I identified this opportunity as a process that would help me towards those first two goals, and even provide a little income on the side.  After meeting with the administration and learning a little about the school and its values, I agreed and began to substitute a few days per month, for various courses.

While I was there, a funny thing happened.  I LOVED it.  Now, I don’t mean that it was a pleasant surprise and a welcome change to my schedule.  I mean that I could feel something inside of me and around me as I walked through the doors into the hallway.  Now, it may be that they pump laughing gas through the air vents, but I think it is more likely that some vivid picture of life that I had in my own mind was being matched by something outside of me.  It was the realization of a goal that my subconscious mind had been teleologically fixed to, and I thoroughly enjoyed becoming aware of it.

Still, my goal remained to be a full-time Project Director and Facilitator with The Pacific Institute.  I was meeting new people, developing new projects, and collaborating with others for some exciting work in the coming months and years.  The goal was fixed, my affirmations were clear, and the plan was moving forward.

Then a door opened.

The head of the upper school called me to inquire if I would be available to fill in for a teacher for the rest of the school year.  Without even thinking, I politely declined, citing the amount of time I needed for my projects with The Pacific Institute.  Because my goal was clear, and I perceived this new information to be a threat to that goal, I shut the door.

But, as it sometimes does, opportunity knocked again.  This time, our conversation touched on the courses that would be on my docket.  Subjects like psychology, religion, history, and social studies.  She wasn’t asking for me to fill a hole as a warm body.  She was telling me that she had interviewed several interested applicants, and still believed that I was the best candidate for the position.  She was confident in the positive impact the position would have on me, and the students of the school.

So I did something that I should have done the first time around: I evaluated.

As I looked closely at the opportunity, I became acutely aware that I was not operating within a vacuum.  Taking responsibility for my choices and their consequences has been my modus operandi for the past seven months, but I often forget that almost every choice has consequences outside of me as well.  It’s another paradox, it seems.  I can’t focus just on my own choices and their consequences, and I can’t just be passive and let my life happen to me.  It’s a delicate balance, and I was leaning too much on the goal of being a successful Project Director.

But why did I want to become a successful Project Director?  Was it so that I could share my own experiences with others in a way that would help them to avoid the pain that I had experienced?  Was it to impact people in a meaningful way so that they would find something great within themselves because of something I did or said?  Was it to do my part as a citizen of the world to make it a better place?  When I took all of those things into consideration, the teaching position was offering me a process towards an even greater goal: not just to be a wise man, but to be a wise man with a legacy for my children.

In the end (or beginning, as it were), I gladly accepted the position and will begin on January 4, 2010.  Since I was a teenager, I have had the idea in my mind that I will have my act together (in some way) by the time that I reach 30.  If Jesus didn’t really get his game going until then, and Siddhārtha didn’t reach enlightenment before 30, why would I?  In February, I’ll reach that magical age, and while I’m not sure that I’m going to have my act together, this new chapter has me very excited about what life (and my students) will teach me as a teacher.

I want to give you the link to his revelatory article, and I will.  But first, you should probably know the end of this tale.  This same sportswriter, Mike Penner, was found dead on Friday.  He was 52.

Although the official cause of death has not been released, most around the L.A. Times have acknowledged it was suicide.  Mike’s transition to Christine was not permanent.  By October 2008, he was again writing for the Times as Mike Penner.  Whether the regression back to male status was temporary or not, we do not know.  What we do know is that his journey was not finished after his essay was published 2 and 1/2 years ago.

Really, as I’m writing this, I keep reflecting on his 2007 essay over and over.  It’s beautiful, laugh out loud funny, poignant, and courageous.  I’ll just include one quote here, a question that transcends gender-confusion and touches many people with a secret:

“How do you go about sharing your most important truth, one you spent a lifetime trying to keep deeply buried, to a world that has grown familiar and comfortable with your façade?”

Although I’m confident that he didn’t coin the phrase, I often let the lyrics Steven Tyler sang in the Aerosmith song “Livin’ On The Edge” go running through my head:

“Life’s a journey, not a destination.”

Like many popular quotes, after they become common, they become trite.  The truth of this statement is hard to for me to ignore.  With so few things in this world that are permanent, it’s frustrating to me how often I feel like I have “arrived” somewhere.  It’s an announcement that “the struggle is over” and falseness has given way to truth. But somehow, the “arrival” is an illusion.  Even Steven Tyler’s personal journey to sobriety is in serious question, after years of staying at the “Hotel de Sober”.

It’s more than tricky to balance the concept of our personal identity with our habitual actions, even something as personal as sexual orientation or gender.  Mike/Christine spent the majority of his life wearing a mask, and when the facade was lifted, the struggle was not over.  Life is struggle, life is movement, life is dynamic.  The most significant events of our lives shape much of how we act, but they do not define who we are.

We are human before we are writers, employees, artists, Christians, Muslims, lovers, warriors, sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, men, or women.

Mike Penner had a gift for seeing the human side of his sports assignments. He surely developed this from his own struggle with his identity as a human.  It’s tragic that his struggle is now over, especially for those closest to him. His life and death have reminded me of the correlation between struggle and growth.  I am thankful to him for this.

You can read his “Old Mike, New Christine” article here.  It is my hope that it will be encouraging, and uplifting, and not just a mere cautionary tale of the danger of change.

Mike Penner/Christine Daniels, rest in peace.

On a much more somber note, Jon and Kate plus 8 aired it’s final episode.  Part of me is relieved that some sort of conclusion has been reached in this saga.  There will always be some sort of celebrity status attached to this family, but unless they begin a new show or other endeavor into the entertainment world, the “new” normal that is coming may look more like the “old” normal that the Gosselins enjoyed before the show.

The biggest difference that I noticed in this episode was the behavior and attitudes of the older twin girls, Maddie and Kara.  The show starts with a daddy day.  The kids are all together with Jon, at the house, and they decide to put together a lemonade stand to raise money for the local fire department.  Tensions between the girls are high, which happens with siblings a lot in normal situations where tools (markers in this case) need to be shared.

In a moment of frustration, Maddie says “I like stuff we do with Mommy.”  Of course this doesn’t sit well with Jon, and he immediately banishes her from the project, with a pledge to throw her poster in the trash after she asks him not to finish it for her.  Just for good measure, Jon halts Kara’s progress on her poster and sends her inside as well.  The girls are left in tears, while Jon is able to bask in the glory of not being the easy-going, push-over dad of the past umpteen similar incidents with his children.  It seems that he is trying to “be” Kate in the increasingly frequent situations where she is not present.  Sadly, the girls are at school for the mommy day outing in the second half of the episode and are not seen or heard from again.

Its the moment that every divorced parent fears and tries to be prepared for: when the kids start playing the parents against each other, realizing that they are no longer on the same team.  Kate later laments her situation as a single parent by stating that Jon is no longer her teammate.  Its was a tough scene to watch, and even tougher to have as the last taste in my mouth of Maddie and Kara.  I’m hopeful that things have progressed with their relationships together, but there is no longer the promise of a future episode to experience this progression as a viewer.

Unlike with LOST (I hope), the ending of Jon and Kate Plus 8 does not tie up all of the loose ends.  Most likely, this is still very much the beginning of their journey as a family, albeit a fractured one.  Jon’s admission of fault for most of the downfall of his marriage is refreshing, but probably stings of “too little, too late”.  Kate seemed disappointingly focused on how depressing losing the show was for the kids, and much less on how their relationship with their father has changed.  Maybe this is too negative of a way to look at it all.  With plenty of knots to untie, there will be plenty of growth to be had for both of these parents.  I’m probably just jealous that I can no longer experience some of this growth vicariously.

I can’t say I know what it is like to be the parent of multiples.  I met with a new friend this week who has four 2-year-old children.  He shared with me the negative looks and disparaging remarks that his family has received since the Jon and Kate backlash began earlier this past summer.  I had a separate conversation today with a different friend about a view his counselor shared with him about the “selfishness” of having children.  The counselor is not a parent himself.  Both of these friends shared the same sentiment:

“You just don’t know until you’ve walked in my shoes.”

It’s probably the drum that I will bang over and over again as I hear criticism and judgement with little compassion or understanding offered.  Discipline, punishment, castigation, judgement, and the like are only useful as tools on a path of change, growth, and redemption.  Jon and Kate have received a lot of it over the past year.  Will it help to propel them to such change, growth, and redemption?  Listening to Jon’s final session on the couch…. maybe so.

The day of Michael Jackson’s death, Mayer’s words were the celebrity quote that most accurately conveyed my own feelings at the time:

“Dazes in the studio.  A major strand of our cultural DNA has left us.  RIP MJ.  I think we’ll mourn his loss as well as the loss of ourselves as children listening to Thriller on the record player.”

Then, I saw his musical tribute at Michael Jackson’s funeral.  It was a type of synthesis of his unbelievable guitar talent, and the very human connection that John felt with Michael’s music and life.  It had such an impact on me, that I made it the theme song to this web site, as odd and as self-aggrandizing as that is.  Strangely enough, I’m not sure if I have thought about John Mayer or heard any of his music since then.

It is somewhat poetic and appropriate then, that a recent video interview of John with CNN would catch my attention and paint a nice picture of what it means to be human.

The full transcript of the interview is even better and I gleefully recommend reading it.

Many of the articles on this site deal with the human side of two groups of people who often times aren’t considered as such: criminals and celebrities.  I am convinced that both groups of people are judged far too harshly by many, due to the blindingly bright nature of one side of his/her personhood.

If you view John Mayer as a skirt chasing, limelight loving, lucky SOB;  you’re only half right, if that.  The theme of the interview (and apparently, this new album) is that John is taking ownership of who he actually is, and not who he is trying to be or pretending to be.  This is tremendously important for anybody who is looking to know oneself, even if for the sake of trying to change.

Although John’s comments on age are intentionally hilarious and exaggerated, they ring true to me now as I am on the cusp of my thirties.  I’m taking inventory of where I have been, and I’m trying to examine the events that most helped to contribute to my current state.  I now believe that just a few core beliefs help to guide nearly everything that I do, and in a way, life isn’t as complicated as I sometimes make it.

As Polonius said to Laertes in Hamlet: “This above all: to thine own self, be true.”  Before John Mayer was a celebrity, he was… John Mayer.  Writing songs about love and heartbreak were natural, well received, and most of all… real.  It sounds as if he is trying to keep a hold of that which made his music magical, namely his unapologetic honesty.  He may not be politically correct, but he doesn’t seem to be bitter or resentful of much outside of himself either.

I’m a fan of honest conversations and blunt confrontations, in a spirit of love.  I want my life to be characterized by more of this.  I want it to be one of those core values that everything else flows out of.  Thanks for reminding me of that today, John.

Easy tiger...

How you feel about Jon Gosselin is probably going to depend a lot on what you have personally experienced in your own life, or how you value stories of failure and redemption.  If you’ve led a morally upright life, and you tend to only value failure if it is soon followed by redemption, you may have little to no sympathy for Jon Gosselin and his bachelor-esque behaviors (while married) over the past several months.

This is especially difficult to swallow for those who revered him as a type of “super-dad” and loving husband who would sacrifice anything for his family.  Even if a divorce is a dance for two, he seems to have loaded up the jukebox with many more songs than Kate.  Their legal proceeding are becoming increasingly volatile and their relationship is strained to a microscopic level.  I’m sure that many may have the desire to remind Jon that he made this bed, and now it is time to sleep in it.

From doting father and submissive husband to jet-setting playboy with a cell phone filled with booty calls, Jon has shown clearly that he has a wild side.  But is that all that it is?  Is it just one side of his personality?  With his behavior over the last year seeming so different than what was known about him up until that time, the question on many people’s minds is:  ”Will the real Jon Gosselin please stand up?”

Lisa Respers France from CNN wrote a fantastic piece about Jon’s recent conversations and counseling with Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, who apparently is something of a celebrity spiritual advisor.  In the article, besides dispelling rumors that he was to be starting a new reality series with “Octomom” Nadya Suleman, Jon had some frank comments about his behavoir:

I am well aware that my behavior over the past few months has not always reflected my personal and religious values. I further accept that I have allowed myself to become somewhat severed from my own moral anchor and be carried away by the challenges of fame.

and:

It is my sincere desire to use the fame I have so unexpectedly acquired to highlight mature, responsible behavior as well as the joys of fatherhood and family.

and probably the most honest of them all:

I ask the public to please understand the challenges I face in living under constant public scrutiny, even as I am aware that I have at times courted that scrutiny.

Ok, so a level-headed Jon is issuing a mea culpa, with a promise to change the future in a positive way.  But does anyone care?  Over 60% of that CNN article’s readers polled believe that Kate should NOT forgive Jon.  There is a real belief in the minds of many people that some sort of penance must be undertaken before forgiveness should be entertained.  Perhaps those people are right.

But there are many that believe that blanket forgiveness is often undeserved, and punishment (or justice) is the best way to return to a balanced way of life.  In my own story, many people advised Kim to “make him (me) pay” and “make him (me) work for your (her) love” during the beginning of our time of healing.  Our healing blossomed into a reconciliation, but that is not and should not be the only expected result of healing.  Peace is paramount.

Jon at a more innocent time

Past behaviors, both negative and positive, must be synthesized to arrive a current state of someone’s character appraisal.  Jon is neither a knight in shining armor nor a wild, partying, lust-monster.  At least, not fully.  They are two sides of his personality, and it’s likely not a 50/split.  We all act differently in different stages of our lives, and sometimes the pendulum swings wildly.

Human nature is not just about who we wish to be, it’s about who we are, which is evidenced by what we do.

The biblical story of the prodigal son has be retold in many different forms over the centuries.  I even participated in a reimagining of the story with cues taken from The Princess Bride while I was in college.  In my opinion, it’s a story that highlights three parts of human nature:

1. Personally testing the rules put in place by others for one’s own good, only to find out through much pain that they are true.  (The prodigal son)
2. Having love override all negative behaviors to bring about a restoration of peace, despite a lack of justice.  (The father)
3. Being frustrated and angry over a lack of justice and wanting a situation of “fairness” to exist.  (The brother)

I’ve felt all of these feelings at different times in my life.  Is the Gosselin saga an appropriate narrative to apply the principles of this parable?

Wow!   It seems very clear now that Susan’s dream has been a dream for quite a long time.  So she got knocked down a few times and things didn’t take off for her right away.  She kept hold of her dream and kept developing her skills.  The idea that “anything is possible” is poweful and important to cultivate in everyone, young and old.  But,  it should be remembered that large scale success can and often does take time, especially when developing specific skills are involved.

This really made me think about my own life and the personal changes that I have been going through lately.  Sometimes, things change so fast, you can look at yourself in the morning, and not even recognize who you are.  When I look in the mirror, I don’t see who I was, but I don’t quite see the man that I want to be either.  It’s a strange sort of in between place that I’m in now, wondering whether to turn back to some of my former habits or to keep growing and developing my new ones.  I believe that healthy self esteem is the essential starting point for self-directed growth and personal development.  But is there a point in that growth and development where you can lose your identity?

Surely Susan had some times in her life and sputtering career where she doubted and took some time wandering on different paths.  It’s very encouraging to me to see how she never gave up on what she was so clearly passionate about.  It’s a great gift to be able to change our mind.  It’s also great to see the potential of a long held hope come to blossom at last.  Cheers again to Susan for her to get out there with her frumpy dress and keep her dream alive.  May we all be as successful as her someday!  What perseverance!

Today I got to spend some time with Aaron Blackstone.  Aaron is an associate of The Pacific Institute and lives in West Seattle.

When he was a teenager, he was a top athlete in his school in soccer, wrestling, and track.  He also was highly involved in competitive horseback riding year round.  A car accident changed all of that.  He experienced significant brain trauma and spent 13 weeks in a coma.  He lost the use of many of his normal bodily functions.  He needed to re-learn how to read, eat, speak, bathe, etc.  His life was significantly different than it was before the accident.

What I was struck by most about Aaron, who has now lived more of his life with the injury than before it, was his glow.  He is an absolutely positive person.  His days aren’t “good”, they are “great”.  He lights up a room when he walks in and does even more when he opens his mouth.  Everything about who Aaron is now is for the good of the world.  He wants to and is changing people’s lives with his perspective on life.  It may have been having a near death experience, or it may just have been the supportive family that stood by him and lifted him up, year after year.  Aaron has all of the maturity of someone who has gone through difficult life experiences, but very little of the bitterness that can be associated with that.

He has kept a journal for over 15 years that is now over 2,000 pages long.  In it, he takes the principles of life that he picks up along the way, and personally applies them to his life.  He uses the words “I” and “me” as he builds affirmations about himself.  He looks at his accident as a gift.  It has changed the course of his life in a way that he would not want to take back if he could.

If anyone could claim to be a victim in life, it would be Aaron, but fortunately, he does not choose to.  I make the same choice today as well.