All posts by Dr. Mike

personal growth, Uncategorized

Things That I Simply No Longer Care About

When I originally conceived this post, I was going to title it “The life changes I made when I retired.”  However, like most things I write, the topic evolved.  The title then became “Changes that I have made as I have aged.” That was also inaccurate, as some of my life changes started in my 20s and have grown since then. The bottom line is that as an adult, I have slowly become who I am today.  Let me share some of those changes with you.

I no longer fear Imposter syndrome.

When I was younger, I received conflicting critiques about who I was and what my abilities were. On one hand, I was told I was stupid, lazy, and useless, while on the other hand, I was told that  I was bright, talented, and unique. I reveled in the later critique but didn’t believe it was real. I feared my complementers would discover I was a fraud.  

I recall being in college and breaking the curve on tests, thinking I was lucky. After doing this many times, I changed my belief to “I just study harder.”  Eventually, I came to understand that I grasped the material better than the average student, which was why I topped the curve.  Before you think I’m too grandiose, let me inform you that I have also recognized my weaknesses.  For instance, I cannot remember common facts, like a person’s name or a telephone number. Additionally, I have great difficulty putting together a simple children’s jigsaw puzzle. 

I no longer feel that I’m an imposter. Instead, I understand that I’m a person with some unique gifts and some significant weaknesses.  My goal has always been to exploit my strengths while doing everything possible to turn my weaknesses into strengths. I’m still a work in progress. 

I don’t care what people think about me.

When I moved into my house 30 years ago, I tried to be casually friendly towards my neighbors.  This effort went reasonably well, and I’m still on good terms with people I met at that time.  However, there was one situation where something went wrong.  A guy lived half a block from my house, and I had minimal contact with him.  We had kids the same age, and I occasionally saw him at the school bus stop or around the neighborhood. When I ran into him, I would greet him with a hello or raise my hand in a wave.  Initially, he responded, but then he stopped.  He would sometimes visibly scowl if he caught sight of me. If I was face-to-face with him, looked him directly in his eye, and said hello, he would look past me like I didn’t exist.  This situation upset and baffled me as I could not think of a reason for this change in his behavior. I felt that I must have done something wrong to create such a reaction, but I couldn’t even remember conversing with him, let alone saying something rude. My concerns eventually faded, and I got past his response (or lack thereof).  I never found out why this person went from a casual contact to someone who hated me. However, I no longer care.

In my private practice, I initially evaluated a middle-aged man who needed a new psychiatrist as his old one was retiring. This poor guy was taking a suitcase of ridiculous and repetitive meds.  His former doctor had him on multiple tranquilizers, sleeping pills, stimulants, and even opioid pain meds. I told the man frankly that my goal would be to get him off of 90% of the medications that he was taking because only then could I see what he needed.  He was furious with me and left my office, never to return.  I had to admit that I had a sense of relief when he left, as I knew that weaning such a patient would be as difficult for me as for him.  Six months later, I saw him on my schedule and thought, “Oh crap.”  I was sure that I was about to get some sort of dressing down because he was so angry when he left the first time. 

The man came in, and instead of reaming me, he apologized. He was seeing a new doctor who was happy to continue all of his meds, but over time, he realized that I was the first doctor to care enough about his care to risk losing him by telling him the truth.  Over time, I was able to get him off most of his meds and transition him to more appropriate ones.  He became a patient for life and continued to travel to my Illinois office after he moved to Ohio. 

There are times when I have accidentally offended someone. When things go badly in an encounter, and I am the cause, I want to make it right. However, long ago, I realized there would be people who would like me and people who wouldn’t.  Some who don’t want to be my friend will have a valid reason; others won’t. I try to be kind and respectful to everyone, but if that is not enough…so be it. I want to concentrate my energy on those who want to share time with me.  For the others, I wish them a happy life, but otherwise, I simply don’t care.

I no longer try to live up to other people’s expectations of me.

Some people think they know how I should behave, what I should do, and how I should live my life.  Sometimes, these comments are out of genuine caring and could be considered complements.  “You should write a book on that topic,” or “You should practice again; we need good psychiatrists.”  At other times, I have been the target of someone’s manipulation, like when a senior medical student wanted me, as a freshman medical student, to take her place on a horrible committee that involved a ton of work and long twice-monthly meetings. I could give dozens of other examples, but they all involve “shoulds.”  You should do this, or you shouldn’t do that.  Long ago, I realized it was OK to listen to other’s perspectives, but I knew myself better than they knew me.  I live according to my expectations, not someone else’s.

I no longer buy into societal norms.

We are constantly being pressured to fit in.  As a doctor, society tried to determine how big my house should be, what kind of car I should drive, and what friends I should associate with. When I turned 50, I bought a “doctor’s car,” a Mercedes.  I felt pretty cool and accomplished for about a month, and then it dawned on me that the Mercedes was just a box on wheels. After a time, it became a burden due to its poor construction and excessive repair costs.  I traded it in for a Honda; a happy day. I no longer need to keep up with the Joneses or the Dr. Joneses. I just want to live my life and be myself. 

It took me about a month to realize that my Mercedes was just a box on wheels.

I no longer think I’m unworthy if I’m average at something.

Growing up, I received praise and validation through my academic abilities. This reinforcement led to a pattern of behavior in which I felt that I had to prove my worth by consistently exceeding expectations. That went well beyond schooling.  I thought I had to be engaging, intelligent, and funny in social situations. It was my task to make sure that no one was uncomfortable. It was my job to come up with a topic that interested the person I was talking to, not a subject I had an interest in.  In my marriage, I felt I had to be the ultimate provider, the man with the plan, who was both in charge yet compassionate and tender, alternating roles as required. I felt I had to prove my worth beyond being a good doctor in my business. For example, I taught myself web design to save the clinic money by designing, building, and uploading a complicated corporate website instead of having the clinic contract a professional. 

These characteristics are part of me, but the operative definer is “part.”  I don’t always want to be the most competent person in the room, the most engaging, and the most thoughtful.  Sometimes, I want to be me.  Over time, I have realized I have worth, as all humans do.  It is OK for me to allow others to take the lead and be intelligent, thoughtful, and caring. My genuine self is that of a nurturer, but I sometimes need to be nurtured.  I am happy to care for the people I love, but I also want to be loved. I can learn new things to help others, but at times, I am the person who needs help. 

Sometimes, it feels good just to be good enough.  

I no longer feel a need to control others.

When I care about someone, I want to protect them and keep them safe. When my kids were young, imparting my “knowledge” to them was possible.  However, they are now adults and have had the benefits of an excellent education, a ton of love and support, and wisdom from both parents. If they ask my opinion, I will happily give it to them.  If I see a major disaster on the horizon, I may offer an unsolicited opinion. However, in most cases, I feel my role is to be a supportive listener.  This stance goes beyond my kids but requires continuing effort on my part.  I’m better at letting go, but I still want to shield those I love from hurt and trauma.  I need to remind myself that adults have the right to self-determination. 

I no longer have to be everyone’s friend.

There was a time when someone asked me to be my friend, and I would automatically say yes. Many times, these were individuals who recognized that I was a caretaker.  The relationship would consist of them using me in one way or another.  When I needed their help or support, they would be “too busy.” I no longer want such people in my life.  I want mutually beneficial relationships with others, and I would much rather have a small circle of true friends than a massive group of casual friends. 

I don’t need to accomplish everything I could have achieved.

I have many ideas and can connect seemingly unrelated pieces of information. In the 1970s, I worked with a team at the U of C, employing a new tool called monoclonal antibodies. We were using these antibodies as a research probe to study Multiple Sclerosis, but it was abundantly clear that they could also be used for clinical medical purposes, targeted cancer treatment being one of them. In medical school, I knew I could become a research doc and advance that (and other) ideas. However, I understood that I wasn’t happy as a researcher and wanted to pursue a clinical path; I abandoned the idea. 

I started an multi-media company to educate lay people. My first education DVD received good reviews, but it took me hundreds of hours to create and produce.  Although I had ideas for other DVDs, I wasn’t willing to spend every waking hour developing them. 

The bottom line is that life involves balance.  I couldn’t do it all if I wanted to have a full life.  I wanted time to explore hobbies, have time for my wife, children, and friends, and to learn new things.  This meant that I couldn’t always accomplish the big stuff. Having a balanced life turned out to be the right decision for me. 

I have less need for “stuff.”

When I was younger, I saw the road to happiness and my credit card joined at the hip. I felt envy if I visited someone who had a larger house.  “Someday, I will have that too.”  The same could be said of anything that seemed better than what I had. Thank goodness that envy ended decades ago.  

At that time, I went from a position of envy to a place of gratitude. There will always be someone who has something “better” than me, but there will always be someone worse off, too.  Where do I find my happiness?  The other day, I walked in a beautiful forest preserve just minutes from home.  I brought a nice camera and took random photos of interesting subjects. At home, I made dinner for my family and a friend. We ate and talked and ate some more. It was a lovely day. 

Random photo #1
Random photo #2

I am so grateful to have good people in my life, that I’m relatively healthy, that I enjoy being creative and learning new things, and that I have so much beauty at my doorstep. There are so many things to be grateful for!

I value these things so much more than stuff. 

I don’t worry about the clothes that I’m wearing.

I’m a basic guy.  As a practicing doctor, I had to dress the part, and my closet was jammed with dress shirts and such.  Recently, I decided to eliminate most of those shirts and almost all of my suits.  I only wore suits when I had to, but I discovered that I had 8 of them!   I tossed the worn clothes and gave away the nice shirts and suits.

My retirement wardrobe is effortless; I mostly wear jeans with a SmartWool tee or a polo shirt.  I love the ease of choosing “one item from column A and one from column B,” and I’m dressed.  At other times I’ll wear something fun.  Why? Because I can wear what I want when I want to wear it.  

Not exactly “doctor regulation clothing” but fun!

I no longer need to be perfect.

In the past, I felt that I needed to be perfect and that I had to have an encyclopedic knowledge of any topic. I would blame myself if I didn’t know something, even when I could not know it. This caused me stress.

I still try to do a good job. However, perfection is not possible.  It is a relief to acknowledge that sometimes good is good enough. 

I have no problem saying “No.”

In the distant past, I felt that if someone asked me to do something, I would have to say “OK.”

People ask me to do things all the time. I will often say yes, and it feels great to help someone. However, other times, someone wants me to do something I don’t want to do. Those requests can be minor or sometimes highly time-consuming. Long ago, I learned that a simple “No” sans any explanation was the way to go. One minute of discomfort can, at times, save months of agony.

I don’t always have to be productive.

When I worked 60+ hours a week, my free time was minimal.  I remember sitting at my desk paying the household bills and feeling guilty that I wasn’t raking the leaves simultaneously.  My limited time and excessive demands created an environment where I thought I had to produce something of value 24/7.  That was not a healthy place to be. 

In retirement, I have found the true joy of being while still doing things. Yesterday, I cleaned out the clothes occupying one foot of my closet, tossed out one large bag of junk from my basement, wrote part of this post, and helped my sister with some computer issues. However, that left time to do many other things, ranging from having coffee with a friend to studying an esoteric and useless topic. Oh, and I also took a nap-and didn’t feel a bit of guilt.

I don’t have a fear of the future.

How many times have I worried about something that never happened?  How many times have terrible things happened without me seeing them approaching? The reality is that worry has never been a strategy for success.  If I worry about something, I tell myself: Accept what I cannot change, change what I can, and know the difference between the two (paraphrased AA serenity prayer).  Life happens.  Good things happen.  Bad things happen.  I aim to live in the half-full glass zone, not the half-empty one.  For every bad thing that has happened to me, I have had a dozen good things happen.  Every morning brings a new day.  My goal is to make the most of that day. 

I no longer ignore the small things.

Life is not about a trip to Europe or the purchase of a new home. Those things are lovely but very episodic. Life is about the small stuff: drinking a good cup of coffee, spending time with a friend, having dinner and conversation with my family, going on a walk while intentionally observing all of the beauty around me, and learning something new, even if it has no practical application. There is so much joy in the small things. Why do people ignore these gifts? Not me. 

I like cooking/baking and sharing it with people that I love. The Angle Food cake turned out great. My take on cheesy herbal muffins were a bit dry, but they ate them anyway!
On another walk, I saw these tiny flowers. I thought they were so pretty that I had to photograph them. It would have been easy to miss them if I hadn’t been looking with intention.

I’m no longer hard on myself.

I have already said that I’m not perfect.  That reality permeates every aspect of my life.  However, I no longer beat myself up when I make a mistake.  I try to learn from it and make it right if appropriate.  I’m not perfect, but I’m good enough.

I no longer place unreasonable expectations on my family and friends.

We all want what we want.  However, I try to view each close relationship as a gift.  I want to have good people in my life who I love and who love me.  However, they are individuals and have their own values and needs, which may differ from mine.  I make a solid effort to accept them for who they are.  However, I intentionally choose considerate people to be in my life.  I try to be the same to them, and although we are not perfect bookends, we appreciate and value our connections.

Letting go of the above has made me a better and happier person.  Each day is a gift to be celebrated and not squandered.

Peace 

Mike

couple's relationships, Family relationships, getting rid of bad relationships, Good relationships

How To Have A Successful Relationship-What The Research Says

Why do we think that relationships are supposed to work magically, or conversely, why do we believe that relationships should be nothing but hard work?

We live in a world of unreasonable expectations, inflated self-worth, and changing roles. We also live in a world of failing relationships. Marketing executives tell us what should make us happy: things, trips, experiences. However, studies indicate that one of the most significant contributions to longevity, psychological health, and physical health is solid connections with others.  Healthy connections can be with anyone: friends, relatives, children.  However, the primary connection that many of us have is the connection we have with a life partner.  We spend the most time with this person on both an immediate and a longitudinal basis. Classically, that person would be a spouse or a person in the role of a spouse.

Yet, we continue to see a degradation of this union.  Traditional marriages have almost a 50% failure rate, with second marriages faring even worse.  The average length of a first marriage is only eight years. The average length of a cohabitating couple staying together is 18 months to six years, depending on the study. Couples who live together before they are married have a higher marriage failure rate than those who follow a more traditional path. 

Finding a relationship has shifted away from traditional avenues to online apps. The majority of women vie for the top 10% of men, meaning that many of these women become casual bonus relationships while 90% of the men face constant rejection. That rejection is often based on superficial requirements like being 6 feet tall or above or making a 6-figure salary.  

The ease of hooking up almost anonymously doesn’t lead to a sense of liberation or empowerment, as studies show that both men and women often feel emptier after an encounter.  

Although not for everyone, something must be said about a quality traditional committed relationship. The operative word here is quality. So many relationships start with high hopes, only to end in disaster. Conventional approaches to healing a failing relationship, such as couples therapy, may be effective only 50% of the time.

Is there a way to ensure that a committed relationship continues to thrive?  That was the question that John Gottman, PhD, and his wife Julie Gottman, PhD, have been exploring for the last 50 years.  Authors of over 40 books and several hundred scientific papers, it would be impossible to summarize all of their work in this short post. However, I thought I would highlight some of their observed findings.

The Gottmans discovered that some individuals were masters of relationships and were experts at nurturing connections with their significant other. Unfortunately, others were poor at maintaining relationships.  The good news was that it is possible to learn how to become a master.  Just like anything else, relationships require work and attention to thrive.  However, the Gottmans note that having a good relationship doesn’t need to be a constant, exhausting effort.  

One critical need is for partners to respond to little bids for connection from their counterparts.  Bids for connection are simple statements that one partner says to the other.  Statements like, “Oh, that tree has the most beautiful fall colors!”  or “Can you come into the kitchen to check this out?” It was found that successful partners responded to these little bids around 86% of the time.  Their response didn’t have to be much.  “Yes, that tree is beautiful,” or “OK, I’ll be right there.”  Poor prognosis couples only responded positively 33% of the time—the other 67% of the time, they ignored or turned away from their partner.  

They also noted that successful couples often had rituals of connection, routine questions that showed interest in the other person, such as “How was your day?”  or “What can I do for you this week to make you feel loved?” Our family always does “rose and thorns” at dinner time.  Each person takes a turn and says the good and bad things they experienced during the last 24 hours.  This ritual is simple but allows for further conversation and connection.  We also know when some external force is negatively impacting one of us. We do many other simple things to acknowledge each other.  For instance, if we hear someone coming into the house, we usually shout, “Welcome home!.”  Naturally, there are also many specific points of connection that I specifically have with my wife—easy ways to connect via simple rituals. 

The Gottmans note that partners should also openly discuss what is bothering them. The complainant should use “I ” rather than “you” statements.  It is better to say, “I’m feeling exhausted making dinner every night,” rather than, “You are lazy and inconsiderate for not helping with dinner.”  The latter just makes the recipient defensive. To continue to move the conversation forward, they suggest that the recipient ask questions like, “Tell me more about your concerns,” rather than instantly defending their position. The complainant’s job is not to blame but to express how something negatively impacts them. 

They note that successful marriages often have patterns of behaviors that strengthen their bonds.  One way to do this is to ask open-ended questions, which allow the other person to respond at length instead of with a one-word answer. It is better to say, “Tell me more about what is stressing you,”  rather than “So you are stressed?” The more you know how your partner feels about something, the better you understand them.

Turning toward your partner when talking acknowledges that what they say is important to you.  How many people turn away or look at their phone or TV when their partner tries to engage them? Such actions signal that their partner’s concerns are insignificant.

The Gottmans also noted the importance of expressing fondness for each other through words and touch. It doesn’t take much to say, “I love you,” or “You look very nice today.” Physical touch is vital in creating a bond between two people. That touch can be anything from intimate cuddling to holding hands. I’m a touchy guy, and I’m sure it is one of my “love languages.”  

Successful couples are skilled at managing conflict. However, 70% of disputes that couples experience are non-resolvable. Therefore, it is necessary to face these situations with humor, grace, compromise, and acceptance.  

I’m a person who does poorly with a lot of visual clutter.  I like things to be neat and organized.  Julie is more of a free spirit, and clutter doesn’t bother her.  This was an unresolvable conflict in our marriage. Many years ago, I took over cleaning the house.  This allowed me to establish simple courtesy rules for all members while freeing Julie from housecleaning tasks.  If someone uses a dish outside of a meal, they must wash it and put it away. However, I make sure that the kitchen is clean and tidy.  At the same time, I don’t mess with Julie’s areas, like the top of her dresser.  Our differences remain, but we have found a way to move past them. 

Likewise, I’m a chronic comparer and love examining how different products are similar and different. I’m a photographer and have over a dozen cameras of all types. Do I need that many cameras?  No.  However, they give me pleasure. I collect other things, too; many of those interests are temporary, and I usually give things away after ” studying” them. However, that is not the case with my cameras. Early in our marriage, Julie commented that I was pathological in my “collections.” I would counter with angry and defensive feelings as my collections never impacted us as a couple, and they were important to me.  However, at some point, she understood that this “comparison” issue was something I had been doing since childhood, and it gave me a lot of pleasure.  Would she prefer it if I had fewer collections?  I’m confident the answer would be yes, but she now accepts who I am, and we can laugh about our mutual quirks. 

Although 70% of conflicts are not resolvable, most are trivial, like the ones listed above.  Of course, there can be times when a conflict is so significant that it can’t be accepted or laughed off, and there is no hope of resolution.  However, those unacceptable conflicts are rarer than most couples believe. 

The Gottmans also found that successful couples honor and support each other’s dreams. These dreams may be different for each individual. My thought is that there has to be balance here.  Let’s say one partner gets involved in get-rich-quick scams, or the other wants to sell everything and move to Paris to live a Bohemian lifestyle.  In those situations, it may not be possible for the other person to support the other’s dreams completely.  However, there may be compromises.  Perhaps a measured amount of resources can be spent on mildly risky financial opportunities, or a more spartan lifestyle further away from the rat race can be adopted. A couple’s bond is strengthened when each person’s dreams are respected.

Establishing rituals can also be an excellent way to build bonds.  Let me share a somewhat embarrassing personal example with you.  When dating Julie, I was gifted a giant magnum of costly champagne. Julie and I are not big drinkers, but quality champagne tastes more like fizzy grape juice than hard liquor (my unsophisticated opinion).  I knew champagne didn’t age well, so I uncorked it on one Halloween over 30 years ago.  On that day, I bought an enormous amount of candy, and we both ran to the door every time we heard the doorbell ring.  The kids’ costumes became more impressive with each glass, and we wanted to see them all. At the same time, I had ordered a substantial Chinese take-out feast, which we were enjoying. It was a crazy and fun day despite the horrible headaches we both suffered the following morning. Although we have omitted the champagne part, we always have Chinese food on Halloween, and we still enjoy the Trick-Or-Treaters, who are so proud of their “disguises.”  Chinese food on Halloween has become a ritual in our house. 

Trust and commitment are critical components of successful couples. Can I trust that you have my back? Will you be there for me for life? If our situation changes, will you stick by me? If I become sick, will you support me or abandon me? 

As a therapist, I sometimes treated a person or couple in an open marriage. These arrangements usually stipulate only physical and not emotional involvement with the third party.  However, I often saw that emotional involvement did occur and that it would destroy the couple’s relationship.  An even more destructive situation was when one person decided to go outside the marriage to find an affair partner. Trust and commitment are destroyed in such situations. 

An affair partner can always look good, be nice, be supportive, and be exciting because they have none of the real-life issues married couples face. Statistics show that a vast percentage of relationships that start as an affair end badly when they go from an affair to a committed relationship. People who “cheat” often don’t stop in their next relationship.  

The Gottmans also found predictors of relationship failures.  They could easily predict what marriages would fail after watching a single argument.  They call this destructive communication style the “Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”  

The first horseman is criticism.  This is different than offering a critique or voicing a complaint.  It is an attack on the person. A complaint would be, “I feel unappreciated when you leave your dishes around the house, and I have to collect and wash them.”  A criticism would be, “You are so inconsiderate.  You never think about how your behavior impacts me; you only think about yourself.  You are useless and just cause me extra work! You are a horrible person!”  Hopefully, you can see the difference between these two expressions. 

The second horseman is contempt. This is far worse than criticism and is a powerful predictor of a future failed marriage. Contempt occurs when one person takes a superior position to the other. It often includes mocking, name-calling, cruel sarcasm, and scoffing. The goal is to demean the other person and make them feel worthless. Contempt implies that the perpetrator is superior to their partner.  An example of contempt is, “How dare you complain that you’re tired.  You only have to watch the kids and care for the house.  How hard is that?  I have to go to work and support the family.  I have to do the real work.  You are pathetic!”  It doesn’t take much to realize how destructive a comment like that would quickly sour a marriage. 

The third horseman is defensiveness, which is often a response to criticism. “Did you pick up the pie for the Smiths’ potluck?”  A defensive response would be, “You know how busy I am. I can’t do everything. Why didn’t you do it?”  There is no dialog; instead, there is anger and an effort to reverse blame. 

The fourth horseman is stonewalling. This is when one partner simply shuts down and stops responding to their partner. They may turn away, get involved in something else (like playing a video game), or simply ignore their partner. This is often a response to contempt. Stonewalling is the result of being psychologically flooded.  The person is so overwhelmed by the psychological attack that they are in flight or fight mode.  Their ability to respond is hampered, as are their reasoning abilities.  This is a natural response to a threat where escape and survival are at the forefront. 

If a couple recognizes that they are doing the above, they can change their behavior. Otherwise, the relationship is doomed. All couples argue there is nothing wrong with having conflict.  The key is knowing how to “fight right.”  One method is to listen and not interrupt others when they share their concerns.  The Gottmans even suggest having the recipient write them down, as this reduces defensiveness and angry reactions (obviously, this would be for more serious problems, not forgetting to pick up a pie). 

They also note that business approaches to conflict resolution do not work in these emotional situations. Doing a cost/benefit exercise is not going to help. Listening, asking open questions, taking responsibility, and acknowledging the other person’s concerns are more essential tools. A sincere apology has a lot of power. 

An abundance of research data suggests that good relationships increase a person’s psychological health, physical health, and longevity.  As the population moves toward an app-based selection method for potential partners, superficial identifiers often replace more valuable characteristics like kindness, empathy, cooperation, and compassion. Apps have turned potential partner selection into just another marketplace where you go to purchase a product—turning a person into an object to deliver something to the recipient.  Such a position is destructive to building a genuine relationship. Relationships have to be mutually beneficial to work; those benefits are often mutually supportive, as shown by the Gottmans’ research.

Here is the good news. If you, as a couple, understand and implement what the Gottmans suggest, you can transform a doomed relationship into a successful one. I mentioned the concept of being a master of relationships. If you practice their suggestions, those skills will extend well beyond your couple’s relationship and benefit your other life connections. How cool is that?

Being kind and considerate towards your partner is not co-dependent; it is an active and thoughtful process that also respects your values and needs.  However, it may feel contrary to our societal norms, filled with anger and dissatisfaction. 

It is so acceptable to use the word hate.  “I hate him!”  It is harder to say the word love when using it as it was intended to be used.  Don’t you find that strange? Image the power of two people working towards common goals who support and love one another.  Compare that to a couple that constantly finds fault with each other.  Why does the latter seem much easier in our society than in the former?

Relationships are not rocket science, but they require some thinking and effort. Why would anyone believe differently?

Peace

Mike

Here is an old joke I would sometimes tell couples:

A woman goes to see a therapist. “How can I help you,” asked the therapist. “I hate my husband, and I want you to tell me how to punish him. I really want him to suffer. I want to hurt him!” The therapist said he was reluctant to help, but in the end, he agreed. “OK, this is what you have to do. You need to treat him real well. Tell him that you love him. On occasion, pick up his favorite treats for no reason. Kiss him goodbye when he goes out. Compliment him when he looks nice. Be kind and supportive of him. Then, when he falls back in love with you, leave him!” The lady chuckled in a sinister way, nodded her head, and left the office. Three months later, the therapist saw her name on his schedule. The lady came into the office, and she was beaming. In fact, she looked 10 years younger. “I guess you did what I told you to do and then dumped him,” said the therapist. “Yes, I did exactly what you told me to do, but dump him? Are you kidding? My husband is treating me like a queen. Our marriage marriage has never been better!”

In celebrating the ritual of “Father’s Day,” Julie made an effort to make me a special meal.
It is essential to have fun in a relationship. Friends invited us to a party where we had to “act” certain parts. I was told to be a rough greaser, and Julie was given the part of a 1950s prim prissy high school girl. Why not have fun with such an experience?
psychiatry, psychology

How I Became A Psychiatrist

When I told my father my plans he was clearly displeased.  It was a spring day, and I was talking to him in his south suburban backyard. “Dad, I’m going to specialize in psychiatry.”  His response was quick and sharp, “Why would you want to do that?  You should become a real doctor.  Psychiatrists aren’t doctors.”  

By that point in my life, I had long charted my own course.  I listened respectfully, but internally, I ignored his commands.  I no longer needed his approval, and my conversation was more perfunctory rather than advice-seeking. He had his agenda, and I had mine.  Since my decision would directly impact me, it was my decision to make.  I subtly changed the topic to something that I knew would interest him. It was a deliberate manipulation on my part to a neutral subject, and the conversation moved forward.

His question was valid for other reasons. Why had I decided on this career path? My answer was both surprising yet understandable.

There are certain key events in my life that I write about repeatedly. They serve as markers that indicate significant changes in my knowledge of myself and the world around me.  They are the road signs to my life.  Many other factors are equally important, but these events note a change in understanding or direction.  A fork in the road that led to a different journey.   

I often talk about my dyslexia, a diagnosis that is only partially accurate.  I use the term because it is relatable.  In reality, I have a variety of processing differences that can make simple tasks difficult for me.  For instance, I can visualize abstract concepts but can’t assemble a simple children’s jigsaw puzzle. This processing disparity was evident when I was in second grade and couldn’t read. In the early 1960s, the concept of learning disabilities was utterly foreign at the Catholic grade school that I attended.  My teacher, a nun, recognized that I was smart and erroneously concluded that my inability was caused by a vision problem, which prompted my parents to get me a pair of glasses.  This was a significant expense, and my father was not pleased, but he complied. 

I was hoping for a miracle and was crushed to discover that they did little to translate the incomprehensible set of symbols that moved around the page with a mind of their own.  I was at a phase in my life when I thought that any imperfection in me reflected poorly on my family and parents, and I was terrified of gaining even more displeasure from my father.

Yet, I had a certain confidence in myself, likely boosted by my teachers, who would comment on how smart I was.  I had to devise a solution, and I felt confident I could. But what resources did I have?  How could I take something I already had and use it as a tool?  The answer came to me via the Sunday comics. There was a strip called “Nancy” that was very simple in both its storyline and vocabulary. I could piece together the words by tying them to the pictures.  The traditional way I was being taught to read would never work for me because I could not see the separation between words and lines of text.  However, if I viewed a word as a shape instead of a series of letters, I could decipher its meaning.  My brain could do that, and print started to make sense.  I did many other things to teach my brain how to read. Soon, an entire world of information was revealed to me. By the time I took my 4th-grade achievement tests, I was testing at the 11th-grade level. 

I was a big kid, so I can’t say that I was the object of a lot of bullying.  I was part of the mass group of kids; neither a member of the popular crowd nor the reject group.  I had friends, and I did things.  Yet, I felt like an imposter.  Subjects that interested my friends didn’t particularly interest me, and things that I was interested in held no interest with them.  I learned that to be accepted, I would have to show interest in what interested them while hiding those things that I was interested in. 

My salvation was science, and my teachers were the pseudo-scientists of the B science fiction movies that I would watch on late-night TV. My ultimate hero and male role model was Don Herbert, AKA “Mr. Wizard” of TV fame.  Mr. Wizard seemed to have the answer to how everything and anything worked. He showed me that there was a method to understanding, a way to prove ideas, and a methodology to learning.  What he demonstrated formally was consistent with what I had been doing organically.  Mr. Wizard didn’t know me, but he understood me.  He had to, as what he was explaining on TV was exactly how I was already solving problems.  Mr. Wizard allowed me to feel “normal.”  I no longer believed I had to fake who I was; at least one person understood me. 

My success in learning how to read taught me that authorities didn’t always know what was best and that there were solutions to seemingly impossible problems if I allowed myself to think outside the box.  Mr. Wizard gave me a formal set of rules to test ideas. Science and math provided the tools to implement those solutions.  I was suddenly empowered. 

It was only natural that I would pursue science, and as I have said in a previous post, the most logical course of action would have been to obtain a Ph.D. and pursue a university career. I’m a rational person who examines potential outcomes, plots a course to achieve a particular goal, and then pursues that goal with force and dedication.  It works… well, sort of… well, sometimes…well, hmmm..ummm…keep reading.

I have already told you how I successfully reached my goal of graduate school and even had the school pay for my education. A perfect plan?  Then, despite all logic to the contrary, I had an irresistible urge to abandon my plan and apply to medical school, which was an insane idea that was bound to fail.  I knew that I would never be accepted into medical school.  All of my logic, all of my “scientific method,” and all of my dreams were tossed aside for a whim. Yet, that was precisely what I did; I allowed a force outside of myself to control my actions.  I was as shocked as anyone when multiple medical schools accepted me. Many of them referred to how meaningful my personal statement was to them. Here was a kid who couldn’t read in second grade who was now moving doctors with his writing.  Life is strange, isn’t it?

I have always had an immense interest in the interface between chemistry and biology.  My graduate work centered on changes to proteins as they are extruded through a bacteria’s cell membrane.  During my application to med school year, I left grad school and got a research job at the University of Chicago using tissue culture models to study Multiple Sclerosis.  We were using a cutting-edge technology (this was in the 1970s) called monoclonal antibodies to create specific markers.  Even then, I could see how such a targeted method could be utilized clinically, from cancer treatment to fighting infections.  However, those advancements would be decades in the future.

Logic would dictate that I pursue an area of medicine that incorporated my scientific knowledge with clinical practice.  The options were plenty: internal medicine sub-specialties like infectious diseases and endocrinology to specialties like Neurology.  I knew that one of those areas would be a perfect fit.  However, they weren’t.  

I was so excited to do my internal medicine rotations, but they disappointed me. I spent 90% of my time running down labs, examining scans, and writing notes.  The time that I spent with patients was minimal.  It felt like I was back in the lab, but my subjects were humans this time. As a family practice doctor, I may have been happy as that medicine was more integrative.  However, family practice options were discouraged at Northwestern.  When I asked the medical school dean why, he responded, “Our mission is to produce specialists.”  Despite this, my problem-solving and goal-direction abilities pointed me toward an internal medicine subspecialty. It was where my background and interests led me. 

Psychiatry was never a consideration.  I had some fears about the profession.  My mother was frequently hospitalized for ketoacidosis, a condition caused by her out-of-control diabetes.  Once, she was in a medical unit that shared a floor with Christ Hospital’s psych unit.  That unit had an imposing locked metal door with a thin slit window made more solid with embedded mesh wire.  It was scary looking, but young me was curious.  I crept up to the door and, with all the courage I could muster, looked into the window, not knowing what to expect. From out of nowhere, a face appeared directly opposite me.  A deranged and disheveled-looking man started to shout at me and threaten me. His face was one inch from mine, only separated by a thin piece of glass.

Along with his verbal threats, he started to beat on the door, and I could feel the vibrations inside my chest. I wanted to escape but felt frozen.  My heart was racing, and I was overcome by fear. Eventually, I broke away and ran down the hall.  In the background, I could hear laughing.  At the time, it sounded like an insane laugh reminiscent of those heard in horror movies. In retrospect, I believe it was the laugh of someone who felt he had just played the greatest joke on an unsuspecting, nosey kid.  However, it took me quite some time before I deciphered that realization.  I was freaked out for years, and at one point, I even had a fear that I could accidentally be locked up in a psych unit, never to escape.  

Our family has an intuitive psychological understanding, which stems from my mom. However, I never thought of pursuing psychology in any form. I was a science guy and never took a psychology course as an undergrad.  

Medical students rotate through all of the specialties as part of their training, and at Northwestern, all M3s are required to do a 6-week general psych rotation. This rotation was a low priority for me, and my main concern was completing it as simply as possible. I wanted a site close to Northwestern’s downtown campus for convenience and picked the least desirable one because it was only a block away.  I knew I would get it because no one else would want it.  It was a drop-in center for the sickest psych patients, the most chronically ill.  There, they could socially mingle, play a game, attend a group, get medically seen, and renew their prescriptions. Fellow students told horror stories about bizarre behavior and poor hygiene.  No one wanted that rotation, so I picked it.  I could survive anything for six weeks, and I wouldn’t have to travel to a distant site to complete my obligation.

My first day was as expected: bizarre, often disheveled individuals milling about, talking, and sometimes shouting to themselves. Mismatched clothes, sometimes garish makeup. “It is only six weeks out of my life,” I told myself. “I’ll do this one day at a time.” I had many obligations at that place, from doing initial psychiatric evaluations, to being a group therapy leader, to helping manage meds, to injecting patients with long-acting antipsychotics.  However, I also had more free time than was typical for a clinical rotation.  I started to hang around the day room.  Sometimes, I would sit in the day room and read; at other times, I would play a game with a client. Eventually, something strange happened.  Patients would come up to me and start a conversation. Those conversations were not about meds or the latest therapy; they were about their lives, hopes, and dreams.  They would ask me about me, not in an intrusive way but in an interested way. I was becoming part of their group.  They seemed to look forward to seeing me.

One day, a client could be rational, on the following day, completely psychotic. As they gained trust in me, they let me into their life, and I developed an admiration for them.  Despite having constant hallucinations and delusions, many could still navigate the world, form relationships, and problem-solve.  I would lack these abilities under such circumstances. Many lived a life of scorn and rejection, yet many of their desires were no different from mine.  They wanted to connect with others, have value, and have those basic needs that we all require. In this crazy setting, I was doing what I wanted: helping someone improve their life, even if it was just a tiny bit. Knowing the biochemistry of psych meds helped, but just relating to them as human beings was just as important. I looked forward to showing up, playing a game of checkers, or talking to them about their past and present lives.  I always felt different growing up, but kind individuals seemed to find me and convinced me that being different was OK. 

Here, I was dealing with people who had problems very different from mine, people who were very different from me, yet all I could see was how similar we were underneath.  These were human beings, not trash.  They deserved to have the best life that they could. I felt called to spend time with them.

Once again, my logic, planning, and goal-setting were about to be tested.  I had so much training in hard science, but much of Psychiatry was soft science. However, my course of action was right before me and couldn’t be ignored.  Hard science told me that I could use powerful drugs to block dopamine receptors and reduce psychotic symptoms.  However, soft science showed me that listening and relating to another human could be even more powerful.  My beliefs were being challenged, but I was willing to listen. But was this experience a fluke? The only way to find out was to test the hypothesis, and I did that by picking psych electives that were completely different from my drop-in center experience.  I did, and my mind did not change.

And so it started: residency, becoming chief resident, jobs, co-founding a clinic, working with the underserved, then… then…then.

Do you ever think there is some guiding force beyond yourself that directs you if you allow that direction?  A guardian angle? God’s direct interest in you? Some other force. Despite all of my planning, logic, and science, my best decisions in life seem to come from outside of me.  Interesting, no?

I spent many years sitting at this desk in my co-founded clinic.
camping, cooking in a van, living in a van, Negatives of van life, Uncategorized, Urban Stealth Camping, van kitchen, van kitchen design, vandwelling, Winter Camping, Winter in a Van

Van life, My Favorite Things.

I started my van life journey very simply. I pushed down the seats of my SUV and slept on an air mattress topped with a sleeping bag. In a laundry basket I had a small cook kit, a stove, a tarp, a flashlight, paper towels, matches, and a few other things. My clothes were in a duffel bag and I kept some food in a cooler and a box. This was all that I needed, and it alerted me to the reality that you don’t need very much to get by. However, I wanted to upgrade which led me to purchasing a Ram Promaster high-top in 2018.

Here I am in 2018 with my Promaster. It was a stock model with nothing in it. I had to add the side and back windows, and just about everything else. My very talented friend, Tom said he would help me build it out but I didn’t want to burden him with such a mammoth task so I found Wayfarer Vans in Colorado Springs and had them install a kit which made the van camping ready. However, I have heavily modified the van ever since with my friend and it has always been a fun way to build something together (I’m the chief screwdriver finder).

Violet’s innards from another angle. In this photo you can see that I had a side window and rear windows installed. I had this done locally at a custom RV/van shop in the city. I’m not very big on driving in huge cities, but I can do it if the motivation is high enough. Wayfarer now offers a lot of customization options, but in 2018 it was up to the van’s owners to get the van ready for modification.

Violet proudly showing off her side window.

One of the first things that we did was to install a roof fan and the solar panels. Both of these things were must for me and I use them on every trip. I have 400 watts of solar which charges my main battery and allows me to operate at almost 100 percent electric. The fan really helps to vent out the hot air and bring in the cool air at night.

Here you can see the vent fan from the inside. This fan can operate in two directions (pulling in air, or pushing out air). If you decide on adding a vent fan I would suggest getting one that can do this.

Here you can see my basic Wayfarer built. Compare this to my SUV photo and you can see that I have gone far up in van life status. The construction is very solid and has stood the test of time for 6 years. The box on the left is supposed to be a boot box, but it became my power station. Note the kitchen with a sink. Although functional, it did not suite my needs as I never really used the sink due to the mess. It had a 7 gallon water tank and a 7 gallon grey water tank that I had to wrestle with, and I didn’t like dealing with smelly grey water. We built a kitchen that better suited my needs. Also note the cavernous under the bed space. It was designed for adventure cargo, like a bike. However, I wanted to organize the space better for general van life.

Here I’m at Wayfarer Vans picking up my newly converted van. It only took them a morning to do what would have taken me a couple of months.

One of our first projects was to build out an under-the-bed storage space (#3). That has been one of my favorite modifications. This allowed a dedicated space for a slide out fridge (#1), as well as baskets that serve as my main pantry (#2).

The second photo shows the storage box from the “garage” end. Everything is very organized and there is still plenty of room for gear.

We opened up the “boot box” and converted it into a power station. My main battery and accessory battery gives me 4KW of power. Enough for just about any tasks that I need. I’m conservative with my power use and rarely dip below 80% battery. I have multiple ways to recharge my battery, but typically the solar panels are enough. I can also charge from my car battery/alternator. Lastly, I have a small gas generator, but I have never had to use it.

Another early project were these puck lights. However, they are also a regret as they are constantly disconnecting requiring me to take down panels to find the short. They use a remote control and I have had to replace the remote module a number of times. Now I more often use other sources of light.

I use every nook and cranny in Violet. Another project was installing a Wabasto gas heater (#1). The heater taps directly into Violet’s gas tank and barely sips any gas. I would say that its output is similar to one of those little electric heaters, which is enough to allow me to camp in the Winter. So far I have been comfortable with temperatures in the teens (Fahrenheit). You can also see my emergency toilet (#3). I have tried a couple of different types and am currently using a collapsible one. I seem to always find an alternate toilet option, but it feels good to have this backup “just in case.” The rectangular box (#2) is a 2000 watt quality inverter that takes power from my car battery and coverts it to AC power. This is an alternative way to charge my house battery when I’m driving. Now DC to DC chargers are popular, but they weren’t when I built out Violet. My solution may be a bit less efficient, but it works fine for me and also gives me an extra source of AC power. I originally had a no-name Chinese inverter that promised high output, but didn’t deliver so I went with a brand-name and I am glad that I did.

I also carry this small power bank which I can charge with a folding solar panel. I can take it out of the van to power devices like my video projector or computer, and use it inside for a convenient way to charge my phone. I like this particular battery bank as it re-charges very quickly. Some similar units charge very slowly. I believe in the motto ABC (always be charging). When I have shore power I like to charge everything to 100%.

A carpet is a must to keep dirt at bay. We cut this one to look like a wall to wall carpet, but it easily pulls out. My son asked why I got this pattern, but when he went camping with me he understood why-it hides dirt!

When I camp alone I almost always boon dock. However, when I’m camping with my wife or my son I will usually stay at campgrounds. Some smaller campgrounds will only have this type of power connector, so it is a good idea to have on board a simple 30 Amp to 20 Amp converter plug. They are inexpensive and can be found everywhere from Amazon to Walmart.

This is what the adapter looks like. I have used it many times over the years to convert a 30A socket into a 20A (typical) socket.

Another thing that Tom and I added was cruise control. It was a simple install and has made long drives a lot easier.

We also added swivel front seats. I have never used the swivel drivers seat, and rarely swivel the passenger seat. However, my wife uses it all of the time. This highlights the fact that what I find necessary, you may not. Hindsight suggests that it is better to build out slowly when you know what you actually need rather than trying to figure everything out in the beginning. You can also see my first attempt at a power station, an enormously heavy GoalZero 1250. I gifted that to Tom and his camping adventures when I upgraded to a lithium system.

A must is a garbage system that can be as elaborate or as simple as you want. I hang a grocery bag on the driver’s arm rest and change it out daily. It may not look great, but it works really well. I have never had a need to upgrade it.

Last summer’s project was to completely re-build the kitchen. I have enough power to go all electric, and I used an induction hob and a small microwave. I also have a capsule coffee pot as well as a small electric pressure cooker. When I’m solo I cook very simply, but when my wife or son are on board I tend to make real meals. I want their experience to be a good one.

This is my old kitchen setup using the Wayfarer kitchen. You can see the sink that I never used. Additionally, I had an induction hob mounted to the countertop which worked well, but took up valuable space. On the right side you see a microwave oven as well as a hassock toilet. I’m constantly changing things around. Why? Because its fun!

This summer Tom and I built a new kitchen that was better for my particular needs. By eliminating the sink, building in the hob and the microwave, and extending the countertop, I added an enormous amount of usable space. As an aside, we harvested the wood for the countertop from fallen trees. Tom used the planks to make flooring for his house, but there was some wood left over and that wood became Violet’s counter top.

In van life you can never have too many fans. There are a lot of small USB fans that are cheap, move a lot of air, and barely use any power. I’ll often use one in conjunction with my roof fan on very hot days.

Another one of my missteps. We installed a water port for the sink, and the sink is now gone. I also installed a power port, but I find it easier to run an outdoor extension cord through the sliding door.

I’m a little mixed on this one, a cellular signal booster. The improvement in cell reception has mostly been marginal, but recently it allowed me to very slowly view some webpages that would not have been possible with just my phone. Was that worth all of the money that I spent for the gadget? I don’t know.

Most of us use our phones to navigate. However, your phone’s GPS app requires a reasonably good cell connection to download maps. Two summers ago I installed a new radio that also has GPS as this unit has all of the maps preloaded. I have been in many places where Google maps won’t function (poor cell reception), but this unit does. This was an expensive upgrade, but you could also just buy an inexpensive dedicated GPS device off of eBay.

I also have an inexpensive dash cam. To be honest, I’m not sure I know how to get the videos off the camera. Fingers crossed that I won’t have to.

I mentioned that you need a light source. It is also important to have a portable light. This USB headlamp does the job for me, but there are many other options available.

A portable radio is a very nice addition. Yes, you have your car’s radio, but that could potentially run your battery down. I think I bought this radio off of eBay (note the Chinese hanzi). I have been in places with little cell signal so I can’t stream, but I can always get radio signals. A portable radio allows me to listen to the news and music when I’m sitting in a chair outside. Surprisingly, I seem to always find a NPR station. NPR has a lot of podcast like shows.

I also have an inexpensive “weather station.” Violet can get pretty hot in the summer heat and pretty cold in the winter freeze. I have found this little gadget informative over the years.

Since I no longer have a sink, you may wonder how I wash my dishes. I wipe off the remaining food with a paper towel, then spray with 100% vinegar, then wipe that off. It works as well as soap and water, but it doesn’t use up any water, and I have no smelly grey water to deal with.

Another addition that I added was this hitch for a bike carrier. Necessary if you want to take a bike with you, otherwise unneeded. Of course you can also pack a bike inside the van, but that can be a hassle.

This may seem like a no-brainer, but having a a decent water bottle is a must for so many reasons.

The simple water system that I have used for a number of years. This carboy holds 2 gallons of water, and I have 2, 3 gallon refill jugs in the van’s “garage.”

It goes without saying that you must have some sort of a first aid kit. I customized mine with things that I use. You can often buy small quantities of OTC meds at dollar stores making it inexpensive to change them out every year or two. I always have a variety of bandages, Motrin, anti-diarrhea meds, anti-histamines, kineseology tape, and other stuff on hand. I usually wind up taking a Motrin several times during any trip. Last summer I managed to poke a very sharp knife in my hand while trying to open a package. I was bleeding so much that I was leaking through band-aids. I taped the wound together with kineseology tape and that saved the day.

Another wonderful addition was a 3″ memory foam mattress pad that I added to the existing Wayfarer pad. I’m a big guy and a side sleeper, so I need the extra cushioning. Installing the pad took about 1 minute and it was a game changer for me.

This steering wheel desk turns Violet into an office on wheels. You can buy plastic ones very inexpensively on Amazon. However, my steering wheel was an odd size and the plastic one didn’t fit flat so we made our own.

When it’s hot and you have no shade you soon realize, “I need some shade!” There are many solutions and I have tried two of them. In the first photo I’m using a patio umbrella adapter on my hitch. That worked fine, but the MoonShade was more compact and did a better job. Neither require any permanent installation.

This may be hard to see, but you are looking at one of my absolutely most favorite things-rain guards! They allow me to keep my windows cracked during the rain and at night. They are an absolute must and take less than 5 minutes to install.

There are many other things that have made my van life easier. Some I use regularly, like a folding BBQ grate. Some things I use on occasionally, like a butane stove that allows me to cook outdoors. Some items I rarely use, but I’m glad that I have them, like a tow rope, traction mats, a tire pump, and a jump starter. Some are just fun, like my Omnia Oven.

I’m a life long camper, have been vehicle camping for a long time, and van camping for 6 years. I’m also a gadget guy so I’m constantly upgrading and changing things as that is part of my fun. I thought I would share some of my gear with you today. Your needs and desires may be completely different from mine. Do your own thing, and HAPPY CAMPING!

Peace

Mike

writing topics

How I Pick The Topics For My Posts

A dear friend and former colleague recently wrote to me about my blog post, “Love Bombing: How To Control Others With Love.”  He noted:

Your most recent blog was a reach coming  from you – not sure what made you write that – as always quite well thought out and on target and educational but did not seem like the usual “mike.”

I thought, “Hmm, this could be another subject for a blog post!”

For those interested, I thought I would share why I write what I write, and at the end of this post, I will tell you why I specifically wrote about Love Bombing.

First, I love to put thoughts on paper for the same reason that I love to teach.  It gives me a lot of pleasure (for whatever reason) to pass on information.  I remember that in my teaching days, I would try to organize a lecture so that the poorest student would understand it while still stimulating the best student.  For me, that was always an interesting challenge.  Putting something in writing has a secondary benefit for me; I understand the topic better.  I have to use my organizational skills to “put all of the pieces together” and present a flow of information where one idea connects to another.

Additionally, I like the idea of connecting different ideas that may seem unrelated to the reader in an effort to add some variety to what I’m writing.  It is my hope that the reader starts out thinking, “Why did he add that?” And in the end, they think, “Oh, that’s why!”  It is just more silliness on my part.

Different people process information in different ways.  Some people are splitters; they are great at splitting up information into different groups or categories.  I’m a glommer, and I tend to see similarities in things.  Everything seems to connect to everything else in my mind.  However, one of my favorite things to do is to compare things, which forces me to go from glomming to splitting.  I’m also constantly exploring how similar things are different and have been doing that my entire life.  In fact, when I was 4, I would collect pencils and do a “detailed analysis” of everything from the quality of the paint to the smoothness of the pencil’s lead.  Ha, I never said I was “normal.”  

So you have a person whose brain naturally gloms everything together who then enjoys splitting those groups apart. It feels natural to me, but it sounds strange when I put this process on paper.  

When I first started this blog, the purpose was to see how honest and revealing I could be in a public forum.  It was a proof of concept project for future work.  Then the blog then became a legacy project for my kids and grand kids.  It is still that, but after thousands of pages, it is evolving into a pleasure project.  I enjoy writing, and I have a secret hope that at least one person who reads my posts will benefit from it. 

When I was working, my time was extremely constrained, and any learning had to be focused on a purpose.  However, those constraints have been lifted from me, and I can now spend as much time on any topic as I choose.  You see some of that in my writing.  In one post, I may talk about the importance of healthy relationships; in the next post, I might discuss the physics of induction hobs.  Since I gain nothing financially from my posts, I have no need to build a following.  If that was my purpose, I would have focused on a particular area where I’m particularly knowledgeable, like psychology or photography.  I think that would get boring for me.  Keeping everything loosey goosey gives me the flexibility to want to keep on writing.  Does that make this a vanity project?  I don’t know, but who cares?

So now that all of these generalities have been covered, let’s do a deep dive into why I wrote about love bombing… and it all started with a YouTube video.

One day, a video appeared on my YouTube feed from a channel called “Catfished.”  In the video, a wife was asking for help to convince her husband that a supermodel porn star was not in love with him. I’m not going to be very PC here, but this was a very average-looking couple in their 50s.  In many ways, it seemed like the guy had hit the jackpot with his wife.  She was organized and was much more financially responsible than he was.  She seemed to be intelligent and had a genuine concern for him. It was clear that she was the driving force that kept the house afloat. In fact, I believe that the husband moved into her house. 

I would say that she was the better-looking of the two.  He looked somewhat disheveled, almost dirty, and clearly did not make his personal appearance a priority.  He had been trolling dating sites when he came upon his girlfriend, and they “instantly connected.”  She said all of the right things.  She showered him with attention, sexualized the conversation, and noted that they were “twins” and “soulmates.”  Then she started to ask him for money, which he willingly sent, much of it from the mutual accounts held with his wife (which is how the wife discovered what he was doing).  

The woman of his dreams was in her 20s, was drop-dead gorgeous, and her photos were highly eroticized.  He was very quick to toss his wife aside, noting that he never really loved her.  Yet, he continued to live at home and seemed to have zero problems cohabitating with his wife as she made his meals and did his laundry. 

The Catfished team came in and proved that his girlfriend was a scammer and, in fact, was a man posing to be a supermodel. The photos were stolen from the internet, and the images were taken from a porn star.  They even got the porn actress to video call the guy and tell him that she was not his girlfriend. He agreed to break off contact with the scammer, and (for whatever reason) his wife was willing to give him another chance.  However, the scammer continued to contact him and told him that the real actress was fake, and the guy believed it.  By then, the wife had had enough, and their relationship was over.  I have to wonder how long the scammer continued to contact him once his former wife closed the guy out of her bank accounts.  

When you watch one type of video, YouTube’s algorithm gives you more, and I watched them. They all had a similar tone.  Beautiful, successful, and rich fictional people professing their love (and requesting money) to very average-looking victims.  In some cases, the scammer destroyed a marriage; in other cases, they preyed on lonely single people who were convinced that they were being courted by A-level lovers. 

It was amazing how easily these people were able to be conned, some sending hundreds of thousands of dollars to their online “friends” with the promise that the most recent cash infusion would bring their internet lover into their arms. It was also clear that these scammers were using a defined playbook, as many of the plot lines were similar.  I was witnessing a mass scam that was taking cash from victims as easy as taking candy from a baby.  All using the simple technique of love bombing. 

This made me think of other institutionalized ways that people love bomb others in order to manipulate them, hence the references to grooming and the like.

However, this type of manipulation didn’t originate as a way to deliberately manipulate others; it originated on a one-to-one basis, and that was something that I was very familiar with in my psychiatric practice.  Hence, the paragraphs on love bombing and personality disorders.  

It made more organizational sense to start out with individuals, then look at individuals who were actively conning, and then the more “institutionalized” methods of love bombing, like the Catfished example. For me, it was a fun article to write.

So there you have it. Now you know how I pick topics and why they may seem so varied on the surface.  Like all of us, I’m not a one-trick pony, and since I don’t rely on my blog to generate income, I have the unmistakable pleasure of writing whatever I happen to be pondering at that moment.  A perfect way for me to write!

Peace

Mike

love bombing

Love Bombing: How To Control Others With Love

Barb sat behind me in my 10th-grade geometry class, and we spent most of the period passing notes to each other. Barb had no interest in Geometry, and I seemed to “get it,” making it unnecessary for me to follow the endless solutions that the teacher chalked out on the slate blackboard at the front of the room. 

She was what I would call a casual friend and was not in my group of close friends.  Most of our notes consisted of trivial things.  Did the other person see a new movie?  Wasn’t today’s class especially boring?  Why was the room so hot today?  But all that changed with a party.  

Barb went to a party and spent some time with James.  They “made out.”  This catapulted Barb into a frenzy, and she became obsessed with him.  Now, the questions were different.  Did I see James today?  What was he wearing?  What was his mood like?  She would even ask me what socks he had on.  To be honest, I often made up an answer as my focus on James was less intense than hers, and the answers to her questions had no real impact on either of us.

Barb deliberately put herself in situations where she would run into James. She would come up with reasons to interact with James, offer him special treats, and even bake him a batch of cookies. For a period, I would classify her actions as bordering on stalking behavior.  

For Barb, James had become the center of her universe.  He was perfect in every way.  He could do no wrong.  If he looked at her, it was a declaration of love.  If he talked to her, it was a sign that he was as committed to her as she was to him.  That is until Barb found out that James was dating someone else.  She was devastated, hurt, and angry.  James went from being a god to being garbage.

At the time, I thought Barb’s reaction to James was excessive.  However, she was a 15-year-old girl influenced by a hormonal upswing and romantic movies.  Although on the extreme, her behavior was in the normal range.  However, if Barb had acted similarly at age 18, something would have been off.  If she acted similarly at 21, I think it would be safe to say that her behavior was approaching pathology.  

In recent posts, I have discussed the withdrawal of love in parental alienation and written many posts on the importance of healthy love in relationships. Today, I’ll examine how some people weaponize love to manipulate others. That process is called love bombing.

A hormonal attraction to another person is one of the most powerful emotions on the planet.  The ability to fall in love is hardwired in our brains for an important reason: reproduction.  If a species doesn’t reproduce, it goes extinct, and hormonal love promotes having babies. 

Everyone wants to feel hormonal love. It is euphoric, you feel giddy, problems disappear, and happiness becomes your dominant emotion. Of course, hormonal love is temporary, but hopefully, a more real love finds root in this process.

Novel and movie writers know this, and they often create plots that combine extreme versions of hormonal love (often labeled as romantic love) with resolvable conflict to create an irresistible formula.  

It is important to understand that there are many forms of love.  True love is not biased by any constraint and is a deep and fulfilling connection that you have with another person, regardless of gender or sexual orientation.  True love is not sexual at all.  One example is the love a parent feels for a child.  Hormonal love is a different beast that may eventually be associated with true love.  Hormonal love clouds the mind in many ways. Flaws in the partner and red flags are ignored, good qualities are overvalued, and logic goes out the window. I’m not talking about long-term romantic feelings; I’m talking about those novel feelings that one experiences when one clicks with an appropriate partner.  In a perfect situation, this hormonal love will continue to become both true romantic love and the committed love that I mentioned above. This process ALWAYS takes time.  Once a person gets past hormonal love, they need to get to know the other person and see them for who they truly are before they can reasonably determine the quality of the relationship.

It is relatively easy to manipulate another person and to trigger hormonal love in them.  Additionally, many of those manipulation techniques can be modified to develop a strong and obsessive connection in individuals without the addition of real romantic love.  The reality is that we are advanced animals, to be sure, but just like our pet dogs and cats, we respond in very predictable ways when given a set of prescribed triggers.  Hormonal love is not magical; it’s hardwired in your brain.  Sorry if I just burst your bubble.

The process of emotionally manipulating someone to think they are experiencing love is called love bombing, and it can be incredibly destructive to its victim.  For this discussion, I will separate love bombing into three categories.  Individualized love bombing, compound love bombing, and industrialized love bombing.  These are not clinical terms; they are just my effort to organize the topic in a way that clearly illustrates this very manipulative behavior.

Individualized Love Bombing

Individualized love bombing is when one person sets out to manipulate another person for the first person’s benefit.  The love bomber may be unaware of their destructive behavior, so how is this a manipulation?  It is because their actions aim to achieve their end rather than a true mutual connection with the other person. 

Individualized love bombing is often seen in people who have attachment issues.  They have difficulty in forming true relationships with others.  One large group of individuals who may love bombs belong to a psychiatric category called Cluster B Personality Disorders.  This group includes Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, and Histrionic Personality Disorder.  These are very distinct personality disorders, and books have been written about each one. A detailed analysis is well beyond the scope of this blog post.  However, individuals in these groups generally can not form true relationships with others.  Rather, they view their target as an object that can be used to meet their needs.  That need may be attention, validation, sexual intimacy, and a variety of other wants.  Also, note that these personality disorders exist on a spectrum of pathology, and therefore, some individuals have a complete inability to form a relationship with another person, while others may have some ability to do so.  However, in most cases, the victim will wind up being short-changed.  In my practice, I would treat victims who were in a constant state of relational confusion, often saying things like, “I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells.” Or  “I never know what to expect when I walk through the door.” 

Although individualized love bombing can be modified to manipulate any other person, it is most effective when combined with the promise of romantic love and physical intimacy, as these are such powerful motivators.  

If you search on YouTube for “love bombing,” you will find many videos with titles like “The four signs that you are being love bombed” or “The seven signs of love bombing.”  I think such categorizations both complicate and limit the topic.  Let me clarify: A love bomber will attempt to be your everything quickly.  They will do things to isolate you from others.  They will play on your weaknesses to achieve their goal.  They will stroke your ego.  

At times, a love bomb attack is a one-way ticket where the victim is used up and discarded.  At other times, the victim will enter a cycle that starts from being placed on a pedestal to a time of conflict, to devaluation, to reconciliation, and then to being on a pedestal again. It all depends on the particular needs of the love bomber.

Both men and women can love bomb using very similar techniques but with some modifications.  Despite changing gender roles, most men and women intrinsically respond to techniques as old as time.  This may offend some readers, but it is a fact.

Many women have been raised with the “Pretty Woman” concept.  In the movie, a rich man showers a working girl with love and attention; he buys her expensive gifts, takes her to exotic places, and fulfills her life in every way possible.  He is masculine, tough, and ruthless to the outside world but gentle and kind to her.  Only she is privy to this special part of his inner life.  Only she holds the key. Only she understands him.  He makes her feel safe and secure.  He loves her despite any past issues that she has had.  He doesn’t care because he sees her inner beauty.  And, of course, this love will last forever.  

Think of all the romance novels and romcoms that use this plot line.  Heck, think of all of the fairy tales that successfully use it.  “Happily Ever After “is a fantasy life without having to do a ton of relational work. It is not real life.  Fifteen-year-old Geometry Barb can be given a pass for believing it. A 21-year-old Barb would be considered foolish and stupid to buy into it.  Yet, women of all ages and sophistications fall for love bombing because a skilled love bomber has mastered the art of customizing their approach to the victim.  

Men have different vulnerabilities. Think of movies many men are attracted to, such as superhero movies, war movies, and movies containing highly successful men.  Many men would like to be James Bond.  Handsome, knowledgeable, powerful, a bit of a rogue, fantastic sexually, sophisticated, and a chick magnet.

OK…yes, not every man and woman fits these categories, but many do, often on very hidden and primitive levels.  However, some key is always available to start a quick attachment. Of course, some individuals are more susceptible than others. A love bomber is an expert at finding out what a person needs and giving those things in abundance.  Anything can be said or offered since there is no “real” in the relationship.  Love bombers are like politicians.  They can promise you anything, but false promises are just that.

An even more dangerous form of love bombing is what I call “compound love bombing,” where the bomber also actively plans how to manipulate the victim.  For instance, a male love bomber may create a situation to isolate his female victim by taking them to an isolated “romantic” location. He can exert more control over his victim to achieve his objective there.  Naturally, such an offer will be presented as a loving gesture rather than what it is. 

Let’s look at a classic love bomb situation.  In this example, I’ll explore a female who love bombs a male, as most of the examples that you will find on the internet involve males who love bomb females.

A female love bomber will exploit the vulnerabilities of the male victim, and that will vary, but let’s assume a classic approach.  The female bomber will be overly interested in the victim, interested in what they have to say, giving them endless validation, interested in their interests, and fascinated by their conversation and opinions.  The female love bomber will do things to isolate the victim from others. This could be physical isolation (always being with the victim) or emotional isolation by subtly devaluing the victim’s friends or family.  The female love bomber will shower the victim with compliments, telling them that they are sexy, fantastic lovers, like no other man that they have ever known before, and of course, the “twin flame” gambit, that they are soul mates.  

Female love bombers may create a sense of excess by always being available or add unavailability to create desperation.  They will not only shower the victim with attention but may also add acts of service.  These acts of service are customized to the needs of the victim.  A lonely bachelor may respond to gourmet meals or endless and exciting sex, whereas a married man could react to spontaneous fun and lack of any responsibility.  This last point bears noting.  Since the bomber is just interested in their needs (while claiming that they are there to meet the victim’s needs), they have no concern over the destruction of the victim’s life.  They are not thinking about the victim’s marriage or the carnage that their actions could cause him.

A side note:  Do you know that affairs only result in a 2% rate of lasting marriage with the affair partner?  A small percentage of affairs result in a marriage, and the vast majority of those marriages end in divorce. That 2% doesn’t mean those marriages are good; it just means the couple has remained legally married. The actual rate of a successful long-term marriage with an affair partner is less than 2%!

As stated above, sometimes the victim is used up and discarded. At other times, the relationship cycles between a honeymoon period, tension, arguments/breakup, reconciliation, and back to the honeymoon.  

If there is no ulterior motive, such as financial or status gains, the bomber is likely looking to fill a gap in their defective personality.  They may like the hormonally giddy feelings of “being in love.”  They may be looking for someone to complete them (which is not possible) emotionally or to fill them physically/sexually so they can feel alive.  They may just like the power of having complete control over another person. All of this is artificial and will end badly for the victim.

The victim gets trapped and addicted to all of the emotional and physical attention.  It is exactly like a drug, and just like a drug, the high is impossible to replicate in a genuine love situation. If this is a cyclic love bomb, The victim winds up “walking on eggshells.”  Confused, depressed, upset.  

If the victim had been married at the start of the attack, it is possible that the love bomb and the resultant behavior of the victim will end the marriage. Most certainly, the marriage will be severely damaged.  If they are single, their confidence and sense of self will be damaged.  The victim always leaves with the short end of the stick. 

Remember that the love bomber aims to control you by getting you to fall for them as quickly as possible.  The sooner they can do this, the greater the reward for them.

But what about real love?  Real soulmates? Can real love be confused with love bombing?  Is it possible to have love at first sight? Perhaps, but there are significant differences.  Real romantic love may start with hormonal love but builds with time. What is this person like over an extended time?  How are they when you can’t meet their needs but you are in a crisis?  What are their real flaws (we all have them)?  If things are moving very quickly, slow down, set limits, and reassess.  Remember, if it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Compound Love Bombing

I mentioned this above.  This is when a person loves bombs based on their pathology, but they also add deliberate manipulation and planning to reach their goal.  They actively plot to gain control of the other person. This type of love bombing is even more dangerous and destructive. 

Industrialized Love Bombing

Love bombing can be manualized as a very effective way to control others.  Sexual predators use love bombing as part of their grooming of young victims. “Booty Bandits” use love bombing combined with intimidation and withdrawal of attention to “turn out”  younger naive prisoners and create  “punks” to meet their sexual needs.  Cults use love bombing to convert needy or lonely people into cult members.  

One of the most recent methods to weaponize love bombing is catfishing individuals over the internet.  Like all forms of love bombing, the goal is to gain something from the victim at the expense of the victim.  There are many cases where victims blinded by “love” destroy their marriages or go into financial ruin.

These perpetrators are usually men who assume the script and persona of another person.  Since everything is fake, they can play anything from a supermodel to a handsome leading man.  They steal images off the internet (Instagram is a favorite spot) and use elaborate plot lines to trap their victims.  They often start as interested and invested and quickly escalate to statements of love along with the usual soulmate lines.  Their attentiveness and loving behavior may last weeks or months before they strike.  Initially, they may ask the victim for a small amount of money for a temporary crisis.  Once the victim gives in, the demands for money escalate.  

Anyone looking at the process from the outside would immediately recognize that the victim was being scammed, but the process is usually so calculated that the victim frequently denies this obvious reality and eventually sends massive amounts of cash via bitcoins or untraceable gift cards to a person whom they have never met. 

The contrast between the victim and the made-up love interest is often startling.  Middle aged, plain-looking women think they are being wooed by the actor Brad Pit, or out-of-shape elderly men are convinced that a supermodel loves them.  There is always the promise that the next infusion of cash will result in the bomber and the victim finally meeting to start their eternal life of happiness.  Sometimes, the deal is sweetened by the promise that the love bomber is incredibly rich but doesn’t have access to their bank account.  Sometimes, the relationship is peppered with phone sex and innuendo; at other times, money pleas are made to pay for an imagined illness or crisis.  In the end, the victim is left just like they are in an individual love bombing: alone, empty, depressed, and often destroyed.  

Today’s post was a little different than many of my posts and is in contrast to posts where I listed how the alienation of affection can destroy a person’s confidence and self-esteem.  Here, the artificial use of fake love can be equally destructive.  Remember, if you think you are falling in love with the perfect someone and it almost seems too good to be true, it probably is.  Stop, slow down, listen to your family and friends, take your time.  Love bombers eventually reveal who they are over time.  

Peace 

Mike

Family relationships, Good relationships

The Third Date

It came apart. Some pieces were big chunks, others fragmented splinters. I was in my kitchen drinking coffee with my friend Tom as we listened to the sound of a circular saw slicing through wood and the groaning crunch of a crowbar yanking planks that had been nailed into joists decades ago. An era was about to pass.

I met Julie at the hospital.  I thought she was the unit secretary, not the program director of the eating disorder program.  I had been asked to do a consultation on that unit, and she caught my eye.  Weeks later, I was told to attend a hospital-wide marketing meeting.  The request seemed odd as I had never been asked to attend one in the many years I served as the medical director of the hospital’s substance abuse program.  However, I complied.

Julie walked in. She, too, had never been asked to this meeting. She was late, and only two open seats were available. One was next to the director of nursing, whom she couldn’t stand. The other one was next to me. She picked the lesser of two evils, and we struck up a conversation. It was then that it dawned on me that she was directing the eating disorder program and not the unit secretary. 

After the meeting, I returned to my unit and ran into my assistant medical director, Dr. Mary.  I asked her if she knew Julie, and she said she did.  She thought that she was dating a rich guy.  She also felt that she wouldn’t want to date a divorced man, especially one with a child.That would be me.  I’m not a person who quickly gives up on hearsay.  I summoned up junior high Mike and came up with a plan and sent Mary over to the eating disorder unit to do some reconnaissance work.  A short time later, Mary returned with the news that the rich boyfriend was on the way out.  In her hand was Julie’s phone number.

Our first date was to a Vietnamese restaurant, followed by a drive down Lake Shore Drive in my Mustang GT convertible. I was cooler then than I am now.  Our second date was to a movie. Our third date was at my house.  I invited her over for dinner.  She said she would bring dessert.

Dear Reader, I have been a reasonably competent cook for most of my life. However, I did not cook much at that time. I was working endless hours, and most of my meals were consumed in hospital cafeterias or purchased at fast-food joints. 

I wanted to serve a nice dinner, but at the same time, it had to be simple.  That was a psychological move; something too elaborate could have been intimidating, so I decided on a “guy” meal, steak.  I bought most of the ingredients days before, but I realized that I needed a starch shortly before Julie arrived.  I ran to the corner and bought two huge potatoes from the convenience store.  I’m sure I paid triple what I would have at a regular market, but I was running out of time and needed those spuds. The menu was set: steak, baked potatoes, tossed salad, green beans, and warm dinner rolls.

I bought my house several years earlier, mainly to have a stable place for my daughter, who was then on an every-other-week schedule.  It was a standard two story suburban Georgian style popular in the 1980s.  Over the years, I was slowly improving it, and I was currently in the process of a project where I was adding French doors to the dining room and two decks joined by a little bridge at the back of the house.  I had contracted with one of the counselors at my unit who was doing side work with an experienced general contractor.

I debated on how to set the table.  Too casual would look like I didn’t care, but I didn’t want to appear to be too Martha Stewart, either.  I settled on using my favorite Fiestaware on top of placemats instead of a tablecloth. I fancied up the setup with some candles and flowers to set a tone. The sound of hammers accompanied my efforts as the crew continued to work on my deck project.  Jerry, addictions counselor turned temporary construction worker, soon noticed my efforts.  “Doc, are you having a lady friend over for dinner tonight?”  “Yep,” I replied.  Just as I had to think of Jerry in a different role, the look on his face suggested that he had to adjust to the idea that I had a life outside my medical role at the hospital.  After a brief pause, he smiled and said, “Great, have a nice time.”  I nodded and continued my preparations.

My next task was to pick some dinner music.  This was in the era of CDs, and I had one of those fancy CD changes that could hold 5 discs in a cassette allowing for hours of continuous play. I picked some of my favorite straight ahead jazz. 

Back in Wheaton, Julie was dealing with her food decisions.  One of her nurses gave her a recipe for a raspberry cheesecake.  Julie was in the throes of making it when she realized she needed a springform pan.  She made a quick dash to her local hardware store and bought one at double the price of what she would have paid at Target.  However, time was of the essence. 

Back at home, I was doing a final scan and realized that the towel in the powder room needed a change.  I’m usually obvious, but I caught it in time.  The stage was set. This was about the best that I could do.

The dinner went without a hitch.  The steak was done to perfection, the rolls were warm, and the green beans weren’t overcooked.  Julie’s cheesecake was enormous and could easily serve 10, but I wasn’t complaining as I love cheesecake.  We ate, and talked, and ate some more. I think both of us knew that this was no ordinary dinner and this was no ordinary date.

Many dates later, I proposed to Julie under the soft glow of the Christmas tree we had just decorated in my living room.

We married, and our lives continued. I eventually left my medical director job to direct other programs, and  Julie left her program director job to earn a PhD. After we were married, she decided to move into my house. Kids followed, adventures followed, and life followed.

My beautiful deck became aged, old, and decayed. It had been used less since we built a sunroom on the back of the house;its importance had faded. Now, my friend Tom’s construction crew was dismantling it. Tom and I talked and drank coffee as he barked out commands to his crew, ensuring that the job was done correctly. 

The process only took about 4 hours to complete. The boards were neatly stacked in Tom’s dumpster trailer. Eventually, the scarred earth under the former deck will be updated with a stone patio. I pondered how important the deck felt when I contracted to have it built and how unimportant it had become over the years.

When I’m camping in Violet, the camper van, my entire world is contained in a 75 square  feet.  Yet, I have everything that I need.  At home, I have duplicates and triplicates of everything.  Does that make me happy?  No, it may make me feel secure, but not happy.  Stuff is just stuff. The deck is gone, but the connection with Julie has lasted.  It has lasted through other remodels, three more children, good times and rough times, and health and sickness.

Dear reader, relationships require work, compromise, empathy, and more work.  It is important to be able to look in a mirror, laugh at yourself and not take yourself too seriously.  A relationship is not about who is right or in control; it is about working together.  How to support each other. How to find common goals while retaining individuality. How to continue to help each other despite unforeseen roadblocks. 

In many ways, these expectations are the same for any significant relationship, including those with children and friends. Yet, some of the criteria are a bit different. Expectations need to be adjusted with parents and small children vs. parents and adult children vs. a marriage relationship, vs a friendship. However, the above guidelines still apply. 

We are told that romantic relationships should be magical.  The infusion of the pleasure chemical, dopamine, fuels many new relationships.  That honeymoon period is there for a reason.  It is biologically built in for the sole purpose of passing on genetic material to a new generation.  This is an essential process, but it is short lived.  Like anything else that is worth having, relationships require work.  Sadly, how many approach such connections with a “What have you done for me lately” position?  How many look to others to fulfill them instead of looking inward to what they need to do to feel more complete? How many are sold the bill of goods that they can substitute stuff for connections with others? 

My deck is now gone and almost forgotten.  It was just “stuff.”  I don’t miss it; I have more important things to do with the people I care about in my life.

Peace

Mike

The deck was cut up and transported to the dump via Tom’s dumpster trailer.
family, Family relationships, family traditions, Family Vacations, spending time with family

On Father, On Son

I didn’t want to have children, and why would I? There was absolutely no benefit to having kids. I was repeatedly told this, and so I believed it. I had been fed the message that children were long-term burdens and expensive troublemakers who caused their parents to argue. I’m presenting the sanitized version here, but you get the picture. 

Those feelings did a 180 at age 30 with the birth of my first child.  My heart filled with a love that I never felt before—a love without bounds, a pure love that wasn’t contingent.  My marriage ended in divorce, and I became a weekend dad. However, my love and commitment to my daughter continued.

Others said that I was a kind person, but I never allowed myself to love someone unconditionally before then. I always protected my feelings, always held back, and always evaluated and re-evaluated the situation. With the birth of my daughter, I realized what I was missing. By loving someone unconditionally, I became aware of the true power of love and also became open to receiving that love. I have never regretted those changes. They have allowed me to become a whole person.

Eventually, I remarried, and when we decided to have children, there was no question that I was all in.  However, Mother Nature had other plans.   A year of seriously trying and months of fertility work followed before we conceived our daughter.  Two years later, we had our second daughter (my third child), and our family seemed complete.

Mother Nature turned the tables on us again and surprised us with a third (my fourth) child, a boy. I didn’t realize what new concerns a boy would bring me.

You may remember from previous posts that I had a number of challenges growing up, which included a childhood where I wasn’t valued much by my dad.  I also had significant central processing issues that went beyond dyslexia. 

In school, teachers reached out to me and encouraged my academic abilities.  This gave me the confidence to move forward and to come up with solutions to my brain’s shortcomings. I have a natural ease in learning, and complex topics are not difficult for me to master.  I have been gifted with an above-average problem-solving ability.  Combine these factors with a bit of teacher encouragement plus my refusal to allow others to define me, and you have a formula that allowed me to do well both academically and professionally.

However, I am still flawed, and those flaws are especially evident in one aspect of my life: my poor athletic abilities.  I understand why this is the case; let me share that information with you.

I have little natural athletic ability.  I grew over a foot in less than a year, which increased my clumsiness and poor coordination.  Additionally, I’m blind in my left eye, so I have no depth perception. In the correct environment, I could have overcome these issues somewhat.  Unlike the teachers who gave me academic confidence, I can’t remember any time when my father tossed a ball to me or positively encouraged me to improve. I was just criticized for my lack of sporty ability.

Regarding book learning and problem-solving, I had natural abilities that I could use to counter any criticism.  However, when it came to sports, my only path to improvement was through encouragement followed by practice.  Lacking encouragement, I didn’t practice. 

I was acutely aware of my clumsiness.  My point of comparison was the best athletes in my class, and it was clear that I fell far short of their abilities. I couldn’t throw a ball as far, and my lack of depth perception made it impossible for me to successfully catch anything smaller than a basketball.  I had a fear that I threw a ball “like a girl”  (forgive this misogyny; this was in the 1960s). I don’t know if that was the case, but I avoided sporty interactions as I already felt different from the crowd.

Let’s face it: a grade school kid obsessed with how the universe works is not normal.  I was comfortable rewiring  broken radios into new electronic devices in the 3rd grade. I built a successful chicken-hatching incubator out of lightbulbs and laundry baskets in 6th grade. None of my peers were doing that, certainly not on their own. I wanted to fit in with my classmates.  I could do my projects in private, but one can only be so odd.  I avoided sports, an area where everyone could see I was atypical.

Despite my fears, I don’t recall ever being the focus of ridicule from my classmates.  I had friends, and people seemed to like me.  I think my feelings were internally based as another one of my strengths, as well as one of my curses, is to overanalyze things.  However, I was what I was (poor English, I know). 

Now, at 48, I was about to have a son.  Knowing that we were having a boy filled me with intense excitement and fear.  Could I even raise a boy?  Did I have the ability to do so? I couldn’t train myself and become an athlete overnight; I felt I needed to correct all the wrongs I experienced as a child by becoming a coach as much as a father.  However,  I couldn’t do that. I could never be a perfect “Leave it to Beaver” dad. Would I be a failure as a father to my son?

I came to realize that I didn’t have to be the perfect dad.  Just like with raising my daughters, effort was more important than mastery.  The most important things were to love my son unconditionally, accept him for who he was, and encourage him to be the best he could be.

I couldn’t teach him the best way to pitch a baseball, but I could invest in him in countless other ways.  I could educate him in logic, expose him to the wonder of science and deduction, show him how to fix things around the house, emphasize creativity, teach him technology, give him basic life skills like cooking, build his self-esteem and confidence, and focus him on becoming kind and compassionate.  These were the things that I could offer him.  That was the best that I could do. That’s what I tried to do.

My son is not me; he is his own unique person. He has many of my characteristics, but he also has his own abilities.  He has the confidence to pursue athletics and has enjoyed the camaraderie of team sports.  He excels in science and will start graduate school studying evolutionary genetics this fall. He is creative and already plays the piano, trombone, and guitar.  Now, he is learning the drums. Most importantly, he is a kind and compassionate person.  I am incredibly proud of him.

Do you know what?  My son loves and values me. He enjoys spending time with me.  We share deep conversations. He helps me with projects.  We cook meals together.  We complement each other.  All of this, even though I wasn’t a sporty dad.

I love the outdoors, especially hiking and camping. I have gone on a number of short camping trips exclusively with my son. I wanted to go on a longer one after he graduated college, but would he be interested in being seen with his old (and I mean old) dad? The answer was yes. We talked about the trip for months and spent time planning it together. We shopped for groceries and packed Violet the camper van. We were both excited about our upcoming adventure.

Our trip was an exercise in teamwork.  We worked together to plan the day’s adventures and to keep Violet the camper van in ship shape. We cooked, explored, hiked, and talked together… and talked…and talked. Some evenings we watched movies.  He picked movies that meant something to him, and I did the same.  My little boy is no longer a little boy.  He has his thoughts and dreams for the future.  Some are similar to mine; others are different.  That is the way it should be.  However, it was clear how much we loved and respected each other.  And it was clear how much we valued our time together. I don’t know what the future holds, but I am so glad I have the present.

If a new father were to ask me what they should do to be a good parent, I would tell them the following:

Don’t…

-Give your child everything without having them work for some things.

-Fix all of their problems.

-Teach them that they are better than everyone else.

-Excuse their lousy behavior.

-Try to force them into the life that you wanted for yourself.

-Try to control every aspect of who they are.

-Fight all of their battles for them.

Do…

-Love them unconditionally.

-Give them reasonable consequences when they screw up.

-Allow them to “skin their knees” while protecting them from significant falls.

-Let them know that they are valued just for who they are.

-Teach them what you know.

-Encourage them to be the best that they can be.

-Encourage them to be creative.

-Focus on compassion and kindness towards others.

-Be honest about your limitations.

-Admit when you are wrong.

-Respect their reasonable opinions.

-Accept that they need to be their own person.

-Encourage conversation, but avoid making monologues.

Oh, and did I say that you should love them unconditionally?  I guess I did, but it is worth repeating it. Your kids know when you have their best interests in mind, even when they say the opposite.  They will accept you for who you are, warts and all, if they understand that you are doing your best. When you are less than perfect, you allow them the same privilege.  That is a good thing.

Mike

On this hike we discovered two waterfalls.
We thought it would be funny to get matching shirts and then send a photo back home to the family.
Once during every father/son camping trip we make cheap steaks on an open campfire. Somehow the method makes them delicious!
Our last morning. Getting ready to pack up and head home.
There are no free lunches. We both took turns cleaning Violet the camper van after the trip.
Wrong address, right town seller scam

When Sellers Scam And The Customer Becomes The Pawn. With Little Help From AliExpress, FedEx, PayPal.

In 1972, I had a problem, but I also had a solution.  Unfortunately, that solution had a problem, and that problem was the lack of money.

I was a freshman in college and heavily enrolled in science and math classes.  I wasn’t experiencing difficulty with the class material.  Rather, my issue was time.  In the days before personal computers, science life centered around calculations that used values, and those values were looked up in tables.  Everything was in a table, from trigonometric functions to logarithms. These tables would give you general values, but you had to interpolate between numbers to obtain the value that you needed. 

Interpolation used simple math, and once you had the numbers and the right formula, it was easy to figure out your answer.  The trick was to know what formula to use and how to apply it.  That was the science part; I had no problem with the science part.  However, the simple math was my roadblock. Dear readers, I can add and subtract, multiply, and divide.  However, I would often recheck my interpolations “Just to make sure.”  Additionally, I like to approach a problem in multiple ways to see if I get a consistent answer as well as to determine the best/easiest solution.  Because of the math burden, it would take me at least twice as long to do my homework.  Valuable time that could be spent listening to music or hanging out with friends.

However, shortly after I started college, a miracle happened. It was trivial by today’s standards, but it was as significant as the current availability of personal computers for students.  What was that amazing product? It was a Texas Instrument SR10 scientific calculator.  Unfortunately, it cost an astounding $129.00, which is almost $1000 in 2024 money.  It used the term “scientific” loosely, as it was barely more capable than a calculator that you can now buy at the dollar store. However, fast and accurate manipulation of numbers could make all of the difference in the world for me.  I pooled every resource that I had and also borrowed money from my father. However, the gadget was in short supply.

TI SR10 Calculator. Simple for today, revolutionary for a college freshman in1972, (Image from eBay)

The only place that had it in stock was Marshall Field’s, a high-end local department store.  I drove to Field’s and bought it. Honestly, it changed my life.  However, in less than a year, the calculator’s display malfunctioned.  I was beside myself as I certainly couldn’t afford to buy another one. In desperation, I took it back to Field’s, wondering if they had a repair service.  When I told the clerk my problem, he asked me for my old calculator, then smiled, reached under the counter, and gave me a brand new calculator, no questions asked.  That day, the Marshall Field Company acquired a customer for life.  They stood by their products, and in turn, they stood by me.  I still get warm fuzzies thinking about that exchange.

Over the decades, customer service has gotten worse and worse as customer interaction has become depersonalized. I am sure you can recount an experience dealing with an off-shore representative who was both unhelpful and incomprehensible. However, that has been only the start. It is now nearly impossible to get past a robot and talk to a real person. I could recount a number of stories, but none tops my most recent and horrific experience with AliExpress, FedEx, and PayPal, all of which supposedly guarantee customer satisfaction.

My longtime readers know that one of my favorite things to do is to compare similar items.  This interest may sound a bit weird, but it is harmless and hurts no one.  I have been into comparing things since childhood. In fact I had an extensive pencil collection when I was 5.  My comparison hobby allows me to become expert on a particular and often obscure topic.  There are worse things one can do.

To fuel this hobby, I acquire products from many sources.  I’ll find them, obtain them for free as review items, and sometimes even buy them.  This latter option has me hunting for bargains, from super sales and deep discount stores. 

AliExpress is the Chinese equivalent of Amazon, and products can be significantly discounted on this platform.  Just like Amazon, AliExpress has a marketplace where third-party sellers hawk their products.  These “companies” may exist in someone’s garage, but they appear impressive when hosted on the AliExpress website. To combat purchasing fears, AliExpress has numerous statements reassuring customers of satisfaction, prompt delivery, and rapid refunds.  I’m here to say that all of that is BS, and with this preamble, on to the story.

One of my latest interests has been the humble chamber vacuum sealers.  An amazingly useful device that has many iterations.  I had a particular interest in comparing two mechanically different variants of chamber vacuum sealers, one of which I already possessed.  The second type was a less expensive and likely inferior product. However, I needed to confirm that for myself.  Searching AliExpress, I found what I was looking for for over $100 less than the same product on Amazon.  Yet, it was still several hundred dollars.  Please don’t judge; I am who I am.

With customer satisfaction reassurances in hand, I placed my order and was surprised that the marketplace store was located in the US, Pennsylvania to be specific.  They promised delivery in less than a week, woo who!

Four days later, I checked the AliExpressed seller and noted that my product had been delivered. What? I had no package.  I checked the tracking number, and it said that it was delivered to my hometown, but the blurry photo was certainly not my house, and the package was too small to be a vacuum sealer. I contacted the seller but only received a very automated broken English reply.  I waited a few days as I gathered more information.  Since there was no update from the seller, I contacted them again, and this time, I received a “be patient” canned stalling replay. I asked the seller for a refund and explained why. They never directly responded to that request. Something was up, and it wasn’t the sky.

Here is where the fun began.  I initiated a refund request directly from AliExpressed.  They acknowledged my request and asked me to be patient.  Apparently, everyone wants me to be patient.

I set off on an odyssey to reach FedEx for more confirming information.  I will summarize my experience, but I want to emphasize that it was probably the most horrible customer service experience that I have ever had.  It involved three and one half days of my time over weeks, countless phone calls, as well as a trip to a FedEx office.  The experience left me shaking, but it didn’t stop me. However, my end result would not have been possible if I had still been employed,  as I had to spend hours and hours on the phone.

FedEx has a customer service phone number, but it is answered by a robot that gives you only three choices.  You are forced to choose one of those options.  I would choose “package not delivered,” and the robot would say, “Yes, it was,” and it would hang up. I tried every verbal cue, button press, pleading for the operator.  The robot would simply hang up on me. I also tried their chat text line in the hopes of talking to a real person. The chat line uses the same robot algorithm,  and it also disconnected me after it told me that the package was delivered. 

Finally, on one call I deliberately talked gibberish in the hope of confusing the computer.  That worked, and I was connected to an actual attendant.  She confirmed that the package was delivered to my town, but not to my name or my address.  Now, I had the delivery photo, as well as her verbal confirmation.  My solution should be easy, right?  Wrong!

AliExpress had no update for me after many days, and my sister (who is an experienced shopper) advised that I try to get a refund via PayPal, which also offers a satisfaction guarantee policy.  It was difficult to find the resolution option at PayPal, but I eventually found it and initiated my request for a refund.  By then, I had done quite a bit of research, and it appeared that I had been the victim of a zip code scam.  A bogus seller sends a worthless package to a random name and a different address but to the correct town.  When the buyer asks for a refund, the parent company (in this case, AliExpress) confirms that the package was delivered to the right town and denies the refund.  Clever.

I wrote to PayPal with my findings, provided photos, and described my conversation with FedEx, confirming that I never got the package. I noted that I had never launched a resolution request with PayPal in our 20-year association. I figured that they would see that I was a loyal customer, review my statement, and refund my money.  I waited weeks and then got a computerized reply from PayPal that the refund was denied because they said I received the package!  Didn’t anyone read all of the information that I sent?  All they needed to do was call FedEx (I’m sure that they have a direct line to a real person) to confirm it.  I called PayPal and told them about my concerns.  They advised me to get a letter from FedEx stating the above.  “How can I do that when it is almost impossible to get past their robot?” The rep told me to find a local FedEx store and told me that they could provide the letter.  Moments later, I was driving to one.

At the FedEx store, I explained my situation to a worker.  He said that they couldn’t give me a letter, but if I called their store, they would have the ability to patch me to a real person at FedEx, and they could help me.  He gave me his store’s business card with the number to call.  I drove back home and immediately called the store.  Instead of the store, I got the same robot, and there was nothing that I could do to get past it.  I don’t think that the clerk deliberately set me up, but by then, I was sick to my stomach and raging mad.

Many, many more calls to FedEx, many, many robot hang-ups.  I tried my gibberish trick, but apparently, the robot had caught on and would just hang up on me when I did it (multiple times). I spent over an hour searching the internet to find a way to reach a real FedEx person and finally stumbled onto a Reddit post that offered a convoluted suggestion of pressing various keys at certain points in the call and responding then not responding to certain prompts.  I have no idea how that person figured out such a bizarre option, but I tried it, and it worked; I was connected to a real person.  I explained my problem to him, and he confirmed that the package was not only sent to a different address and a different person but also to a female.  Clearly, the seller wanted to make it impossible for the bogus package to ever find its way to me. The rep said he couldn’t send me any written information, but he would be willing to let me record him saying the same.  Guess what?  iPhones won’t record audio if you are on a phone call!  Now, I was running downstairs trying to find one of my kids so I could speakerphone Mr. FedEx to their phone’s recording app.  Thankfully, Grace was home, and we made the recording.

I checked the PayPal resolution center and said that AliExpress had contacted PayPal and told them that the package was delivered, so PayPal denied a refund.  AliExpress never contacted me with their denial and never asked for any information from me. They went along with the seller’s scam.

I started an appeal and added even more information to the PayPal resolution complaint, and informed them that I also had an audio recording from FedEx (you can’t upload audio files to PayPal).  I noted that I would play it to them if they called me.  They never called, around a week later I received an email from PayPal stating that my appeal was denied because the package was delivered.  What!!

I went back to the PayPal website but discovered that the case had been removed as it was now “resolved.” Luckily, I’m a person who saves documents.  With little hope, I called PayPal again and reached a stateside rep.  I explained my frustration that I was the victim of a zip code scam, that I had been a loyal PayPal user for decades, that I had evidence proving my claim.  She said she would contact FedEx (she clearly had all of the information that I had sent PayPal in front of her).  Less than 5 minutes later, she returned online and said FedEx confirmed that I was telling the truth.  She refunded my money.  It is clear that PayPal never looked at my copious documents prior to this lady; no one cared.

After almost four days of agonizing work, weeks of waiting, and the solution was as simple as a 5-minute phone call. However, no one bothered to do that, and I could have easily been out several hundred dollars. I’m sure many crooks are using this zip code scam.  Why not?  It is almost foolproof.  If I had been working, I would never have had the time to invest in a resolution.  I’m also certain that many would have given up along the way as it was so complicated.  It was an absolutely horrible experience that will prevent me from ever using AliExpress again. Additionally, if I have an option to not use FedEx, I will do that even if it is less convenient for me.  Lastly, all of PayPal’s guarantees seem a bit hollow.  They had evidence but chose to ignore it.  The amount of effort and time that I spent curating and sending data turned out to be almost meaningless.  No one cared.

Oh, and I did try to leave a negative review for the AliExpress marketplace store, which is called  M Studio001.  It seems like my review button was removed and I can’t tell others of  my experience.  Clearly, their ratings are off. There are a number of 5 star reviews, which is reflected by a high overall rating. Hmm, are these real customers?  All you need to do is to go a little further down the list to find many 1 star reviews with comments like, “Never received the product.”  It seems like this store has this scam down pat. No one is bothering to investigate, to they look like a legit company on the surface.  However, I don’t think that they are.

This was a dehumanizing experience.  A decade ago, I thought that customer service had gotten as bad as it could get.  However, I had no idea.  It costs money to run a good customer relations department.  It is much cheaper to use automated robot systems, but those systems can only do so much. As I spent many hours on the phone, all I could think of was corporate greed.  I felt not only like a victim but I also felt that  these mega-corporations were implying by their actions that it was me who was the criminal. When corporations get huge, they think that they are invulnerable to outside forces. Customers become cogs in their wheels; where else can someone go where there are only a few mega outlets available.  Can it get any worse?  Sadly, I’m thinking that it can.  These are sad times for the average Joe.

This post represents my personal opinion.

The blurry FedEx image shows that this is not house, and the package to too small. AliExpress had my address, but the marketplace seller sent to a different address, name, and gender, but to the correct town. A huge scam in my opinion as AliExpress assumes that it was delivered as long as it is delivered to the right town. What did the seller actually have in the box? Who knows, but likely garbage.
After FedEx confirmed that the package was not sent to my house they advised me to contact the seller. But all I got was this BS reply.
I requested a refund, but got more BS. AliExpress corporate was no more helpful. It was time to contact PayPal.
I sent PayPal a ton of information confirming that I had been scammed. Yet, they denied both my initial refund request and my appeal. All they had to do was to call FedEx to confirm that I was telling the truth. Finally, after my appeal was denied I was able to reach someone at PayPal customer service who spent around 3 minutes to call FedEx to confirm that I was telling the truth, and they refunded my money. Sellers are using this scam because it is so easy to do and no one bothers to confirm what customers are stating. Truly horrible service.
family, Family relationships, family traditions, Family Vacations, spending time with family

On Relationships

I must admit that I was excited.  I was excited to see my cousins and my nephews and nieces.  I was heading out for our annual reunion campout. Due to the health concerns of a family member, I have not camped very much this year, so I was delighted to accompany Violet the camper van on a road trip.  We would be driving to a campground in Michigan—two states over, but a world apart from my ordered life in the Chicago suburbs.

I would travel alone as my kids had other obligations, and my wife wasn’t feeling well.  I have gone on many solo camping adventures, so this was no big deal.  I’m a planner, and I love to plan my camping trips.  That planning is primarily a way for me to extend the adventure. 

Since Violet, the camper van is fully equipped; my forethought mostly centers around the food I should bring.  However, my planning desires often differ from what I will eat camping.  I’ll cook meals if I have a camping accomplice, but if it is just me, I usually eat the most basic meals possible. 

For breakfast, I brought a pound of bacon and a dozen eggs.  However, my actual camping breakfasts were peanut butter on an apple one day and yogurt with granola on the other.  The memory of the aroma of bacon and eggs drove me to buy those items, but the reality of frying stuff up and cleaning a greasy mess pushed me toward the no-cooking options. I did a little cooking for lunch and dinner to try out the new kitchen my friend Tom and I built this summer. But I even made those meals as simple as possible.

At the start of these events, my relatives hang out with their familiars. However, in short order, the ice is broken, then groups constantly form and reform. I only see my nephews and nieces on special events like holidays, and I see my cousins less than that. Spending time with them is a rare pleasure.

When I have such episodic contacts, I assess changes in both myself and the group, and I have noticed a clear positive trend as we have all aged.

I have never been a competitive person; I am more interested in improving myself. If I compete with anyone, it is me. However, I do remember times in my past when I was envious of others’ possessions or periods when I aspired to gain some material thing for the sole reason of image. 

Early in my career, I was invited by a more senior doctor to spend the weekend at his summer home, which was located directly on Lake Michigan.  He had a postmodern “cabin” that possessed its own private beach.  Beautiful views, cool mid-century furniture, exposed brick walls, and a giant walk-in shower so large that it didn’t require a door or a curtain.  Wow, I was impressed. This guy had class.  A type of wealthy class unknown to me growing up blue-collar. Additionally, I recall having dinner at his River Forest home.  I have been in mammoth houses, but this one was spectacular and looked like it was out of a 1940s movie. I had never had dinner at someone’s home, where a servant served me. 

I have always driven typical cars.  I’m not a gearhead.  However, when I turned 50, I decided that I was going to buy a “doctor’s car.”  My wife was somewhat shocked with this decision, but I felt I had to go with my desire.  Soon, I owned a hunter-green Mercedes.  Man, I thought everyone was looking at me the day I drove it out of the dealership’s lot.  I was super cool…for that day.  It didn’t take me long to realize that my Mercedes was just a box on wheels and that the only person impressed with my purchase was me. If you want to continually spend a lot of money on repairs, buy a Mercedes.  Soon, I got tired of my status car and returned to my old roots.  I traded in the Mercedes for a much more sensible Honda.

These material things have become less important to me as I have aged. I am no longer envious of the possessions of others; the only material things I seem to want are those that directly improve my life. That may be an upgrade to Violet the campervan or a new gadget I can study and learn about. I have as much enjoyment learning about a gadget as I do using it.

Initially, I felt that this change resulted from my years as a psychotherapist.  I treated so many wealthy and successful people who were dissatisfied and unhappy.  Most were on the road of acquisition. They bought bigger houses and fancier cars.  They upped their quota of exotic trips, often going multiple times yearly.  They increased their diners at exclusive restaurants. They indulged in all sorts of “self” experiences. These folks knew the art of subtly dropping their brags calmly and casually.  Somehow, this one-upmanship was supposed to make them feel better, but it didn’t.  The more they raced to buy and experience, the worse they felt.  It was an excellent lesson for me; these folks appeared to have everything on the surface but little to nothing where it counted.  Many had poor marriages and kids who couldn’t find time for them.  They had stressful jobs and constantly had to keep up with the Joneses, even when they didn’t need to or want to.

However, I now question if my work experience caused this change in me, and the family reunion campout highlighted that awareness.  Everyone at the campout seemed genuine and honest.  Our focus was on connecting and sharing, not bragging.  Although I witnessed this with everyone, it was especially evident with my cousins.  From my observation, they seem to be doing well financially and enjoyed the benefits of having some extra cash in their pockets.  However, they did things to enhance their retirement years, not to impress others. They had reached the same life conclusions that I had, but not by observing patients.  Instead, it appeared that this was a natural process of healthy aging.

We had several honest conversations that focused on the good and the less-than-good in our lives.  We discussed our adult kids, looking at their successes and challenges.  We explored relationships in our lives, both good and those that could use some improvement.  We were real people dealing with real life. Notably, there was no posturing, bragging, or subtle put-downs.  Instead, we were present to celebrate each other and acknowledge the importance of staying connected.

I judge my interactions with others based on my “aftertaste.”  How did I feel when I left the interaction?  Did I feel happy or energized?  Will I be excited to see that person again?  Or did I feel exhausted and defeated?  Did that person ask anything about me; was it all about them?  Was the conversation a one-way brag fest or an equally horrible “feel sorry for me” experience? I want to spend time with people where we elevate each other.  I like win/win scenarios. 

As I age, I think it is great not to care if someone doesn’t like me. It is empowering to be grateful for all of the incredible blessings that I have received in my life. It is a gift not to want more and more. It is amazing to have people in my life who, by their very presence, make my life better.

I have been fortunate to have been connected to many quality people over the years: cousins, siblings, my family, truly wonderful friends.  I will take those relationships anytime over a new Mercedes or a fancy lake house.  It is relationships that make life worth living.

Violet the camper van was excited to go on a road trip.