Category Archives: Good relationships

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?
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.
changing behavior, getting rid of bad relationships, Good relationships, Making Change

The Cabinet Under The Sink

“Dad, it’s dripping.” I looked towards the sink and witnessed a single drop of water form and fall from the kitchen faucet. “Maybe the handle isn’t all the way off,” I commented.  I went to the sink and tapped both the hot and cold handles.  They were already closed, but I was hopeful. A minute later, another drop was perched and ready to dive.

Our faucet had been replaced 10 years earlier when we did a partial remodel of the kitchen.  I had long forgotten the faucet brand, or even where I purchased it.  Also, I had no idea how to fix a leaky faucet, although cloudy images of washers and O-rings danced in my head.  It was time to visit YouTube.

I quickly found several fix-it posts. Like most DIY videos, the process looked simple enough. “I can handle this,” I thought. Those of you who are regular readers of this blog may be thinking, “Why not call your contractor friend, Tom?” Dear reader, I am privileged to have a talented friend, but I don’t want to abuse his goodwill.  Besides, I was already encouraged by my recent dishwasher repair.  But as George Bernard Shaw said, “Beware of false knowledge, it is more dangerous than ignorance.”

Armed with a Phillips screwdriver and a pair of channel locks, I faced my foe.  With a MacBook by my side, I played the first segment of the video. “Make sure that you turn off the water valves under the sink.” That sounded like a reasonable step.  I reached into the chaotic mess in the cabinet below and blindly felt for the rough metal oval that functioned as the shutoff valve.  Grunt!  Grunt, grunt, swear… more swears….more grunts. The valve was frozen.  Defeated within 5 minutes of starting!  With my head hanging low, I pressed the FaceTime icon on my iPhone and then hit the button labeled “Gizmo” for my friend Tom. He answered, and I asked in earnest seriousness, “How can I close a frozen water valve?  Can I hit it with a hammer or something?” “No, don’t do that; you could have a flooding disaster! Hold on, I’m coming over,” Tom replied.

Ten minutes later, Tom was at my front door, his toolbox at the ready.  He reached under the sink and found the offending water valve.  Tom was able to close the valve without difficulty.  Dear reader, you have to understand that my hands have only had to grip objects like pens. My digital muscular strength was developed to accurately hit the keys on a computer.  Tom has a definite advantage as his mitts frequently turn wrenches, carry heavy objects, and twist bolts.  I can only feel so ashamed about my inferior gripping and twisting ability. 

With water off, it was time to remove the faucet’s handle and replace the defective water flow cartridge.  This involved releasing a special retaining nut.  The nut was where my problems escalated.  The thin metal was calcified by being subjected to years of Chicago’s hard water. When we tried to loosen it, the nut disintegrated.  …more swearing ensued.  

The planned obsolescence reality is that it is easy to buy a replacement faucet cartridge, but it is impossible to purchase its companion retaining nut.  This latter fact was confirmed after visiting three different hardware stores and talking to two “plumbing experts.” My only option was to buy and install an entirely new faucet.  Now I really needed Tom’s expertise.

I also had to tackle the mess in the space below the sink, and that cabinet is the central metaphor for today’s post.  I apologize for my long preamble, but I needed to provide you with some context for today’s story.

The region under my kitchen sink has long been the equivalent of a junk drawer.  A place where nearly empty bottles of cleaning chemicals live.  A zone that collects never to reuse grocery bags.  A region of specialty cleaners that I buy but then forget that I have.  Four different granite cleaners and at least three different types of glass cooktop polishes were only two of many categories found.

The cabinet was bursting and chaotic because of its massive overflow.  I found two brand new buckets of dishwasher packets even though I thought we were completely out.  Three different glass cleaners were also located. There were enough unused sponges that, if “real,” they could have repopulated a small coral reef.  

Confusion ruled. Empty products had equal status with unopened new containers.  The space was so disorganized that it was easier to buy a new bottle of something rather than to look and see if one already existed.

The first category to be tossed was my massive collection of useless plastic grocery bags. I then categorized the other items.  One pile became a mountain of sponges, another zone had powdered cleaners; still, another region was designated for granite products.  Nearly empty items were discarded, as were those that had broken sprayers or cracked caps.  I then organized the groups into plastic bins.  

With a small amount of effort, years of disorder were transformed into a neatly organized and functional space. My life had instantly become simpler by applying a little time to the problem. Why did I wait so long? 

In many ways, the lazy behavior that I exhibited was no different than other actions that have hampered me in my life.  It was simpler to go with business as usual than to take a little time and change a bad habit.  It was easier to maintain broken relationships than to admit that it was time to move on. Having to deal with life’s clutter made it impossible to enact simple solutions to make beneficial changes.

Just like cleaning my “junk” cabinet makes sense, it also makes sense to evaluate my life’s situations regularly.  What should I keep?  What should I get rid of? What should I reprioritize?  Items that entered my cabinet with the promise of making a task simpler often just made things more complicated, and it made sense to recognize their false promise and rid myself of them.  The same can be said of my life; some situations that promised benefit actually delivered the opposite.  It is my personal responsibility to make sure that my life is uncluttered so I can see the forest for the trees.

Once I had emptied out the cabinet, it was simple for Tom to replace the errant faucet.  Another lesson can be learned here.  I probably could have completed the repair myself, but it would have taken me much longer, and the outcome may have been worse. Yes, you need to solve your own problems, but sometimes it makes sense to call on an expert to assist you.  Their knowledge can turn a difficult job into a simple task.

Do you need to clean your metaphorical cabinet?

Peace

Mike    

With a small amount of effort disorder became order.
Sometimes it makes sense to call on an expert.
No more drips!
best kitchen appliances, family, Family relationships, family traditions, friendship, frugal living, Good relationships, Kids going off to college, kids transitioning to college, empty nest, retirement, Surviving an empty next

Dad’s Super Secret Recipe Vault

It all started when my wife, Julie, returned to the paid workforce. My kids had been used to home-cooked meals, but her lack of time had them dining on fast food, delivery pizza, and frozen entrees. I thought I could kill two birds with one stone by starting a family cooking day that I labeled, “Cooking With Dad Thursday.” My goal was to provide my kids with more than a meal, I wanted to teach them how to cook and have them experience the fellowship of sharing a group-made meal.

The task was multi-faceted. We would plan, shop, cook, and clean up together. Each cooking Thursday culminated with a Facebook post where I would upload a photo of the plated and completed meal. Naturally, I tried to present our dishes in their most favorable light on Facebook. I would always ask my kids, “Reality or Facebook reality?” when I posted the photo in an attempt to emphasize that most things that you see on Facebook are highly curated. Another effect of posting the picture surprised me; friends started to post pictures of their homemade meals. Also, “Cooking With Dad Thursday,” spawned a mini-movement of others preparing real food from scratch.

I grew up eating great food. My mother magically threw things together in the most delicious ways. She didn’t teach us how to cook, but she did write down some of her recipes in a ledger style notebook, which was passed to my brother when she died. Her musings provided her with the information that she needed to remember a recipe but they were incomprehensible to anyone else.

Most of the “Cooking With Dad Thursday” recipes originated from conventional sources. Standard cookbooks like “The Betty Crocker Cookbook,” and “The Better Homes and Garden Cookbook” provided some inspiration, but most of my recipes were procured and printed off of the internet. I have always felt comfortable cooking, as the process is a form of practical chemistry. I have been making meals for decades and can interpret a list of ingredients quickly. Most of the recipes that I selected had to conform to the tastes of my kids and also be essential enough to teach a particular cooking technique. 

Many of the dishes were well-liked by my children and warranted saving, but where? The answer came early in the form of an old and somewhat beaten up school folder from my son William’s elementary days. Its bright orange color made sure that we wouldn’t lose it; all that it needed was a little updating. With a black marker, I scratched out Will’s name on its front, and in a bold and sloppy script, I wrote “Dad’s Super Secret Recipe Vault.” The folder was neither super-secret or a vault, but reality should never stand in the way of a creative process. During any Thursday meal, I would ask the kids, “Is this dish worthy of saving in the vault?” If the answer was yes, I would toss it in the folder. One checkmark indicating pretty good and two checkmarks noting that the dish was excellent. 

Nowadays, my kids can make anything from a savory lasagna to 6 loaves of 100% whole wheat bread. However, they are in college and beyond, causing “Cooking With Dad Thursday” to become a school break activity.

When a door closes, a window opens. With our new empty nest status, Julie and I had to negotiate who would be the meal preparer. In an egalitarian fashion, we decided to split the duty. I’m now the Sunday chief, and so “Cooking With Day Thursday” has evolved into “Simple Sunday Supper.” Julie is a more adventurous eater than the kids, and so I can revisit the culinary memories of my past, including soups, stews, and casseroles. However, she has banned peas from the list of acceptable ingredients. 

My new routine often starts with an internet search for a potential meal candidate. Once printed, I check our larder to see what we have in stock. I’ll highlight any needed purchases directly on the recipe, fold it, and stick it in my pocket to serve as a shopping list. I dislike large stores, and so I’m fortunate to have a little grocer called “Fresh Thyme” just a few blocks away. Although limited in selection, they have all of the basics plus a good meat counter and an excellent fruit and vegetable section. It is a short and easy trip for me to buy any needed ingredients, and the store’s limited selection prevents me from overbuying.

I have also taken over the weekly house cleaning, which I do on Sundays. It is a bit of a balancing act when it comes to time management. However, I’m getting good a juggling these tasks and cooking is hardly a hardship. 

Yesterday I made Italian sausage and lentil soup garnished with a little sour cream and served with chewy ciabatta bread. Total cooking time in my Instant Pot was 25 minutes, and it was the perfect dish for a frigid fall night. Julie gave me a thumbs up on dinner, and so I marked the recipe with two checkmarks. Where did I save it? In “Dad’s Super Secret Recipe Vault,” of course!

The folder is now over two inches thick. It has been loosely divided into categories such as “stovetop,” “oven,” and “Instant Pot.” In that old and now worn-out folder resides years of recipes and memories. It may not have the charm of my mother’s handwritten cookbook, but it is wholly legible and clear. I hope that someday one of my kids will want the collection, and perhaps they will teach their children using some of the recipes that we so lovingly made. The vault may serve as a new tradition as well as a vehicle for my kids to tell their kids about their crazy dad and the food adventures that were spent together.

Traditions don’t have been elaborate, they just have to be. What traditions do you have? 

The old repurposed orange folder.
The vault is over two inches thick representing many dozens of cooking adventures.
I usually post an ingredient shot. Why? Because I think it looks nice.
Last Sunday’s meal. An Italian sausage, lentil soup with chewy ciabatta bread.
Good relationships, personal growth

A Letter To My Children: How To Predict Good Relationships

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Dear Kids

Wouldn’t it be great if we had supernatural powers that allowed us to predict the future? We could evaluate a job before we ever started working there. We could explore the future loyalty of a friend. We could predict the reliability of a potential spouse.

Humans have craved such powers for millennia, and have gone to extraordinary lengths to attempt such prowess. Gypsi card readers, psychics, and Ouija boards are examples of some common efforts. Companies have made fortunes developing software that attempts to predict stock trends. Cryptic writings from mystics like Nostradamus have been dissected and their vague metaphors interpreted. Even YouTube is swollen with channels that predict everything from the next new feature of an upcoming iPhone model to the cataclysmic breakdown of society as we know it.

Predictors and predictions are popular, as they give us a sense of mastery in a world where certainty is typically met with an equal and opposite force called uncertainty. Predictions purport to give us a glimpse into the future and knowing that future can provide us with options. We can prepare, we can retreat, we can confront. The unfortunate reality with these predictions is that they are often wrong. So why do we believe them? Likely because they offer us the illusion of knowledge, and knowledge is power. 

Kids, there is a much more accurate way to predict the future, especially when dealing with your interpersonal life. It is a method that costs nothing but often ignored. Why is it ignored? Mostly, because as humans, we want simple solutions that allow us to continue with a situation or connection. We basically want to have our cake and eat it too.

In my work as a psychiatrist, I have witnessed many couples where one partner is the giver, and the other is the taker. I can recall one situation where a woman was married to her husband for many years. She was the one who soothed the kids. She was the one that professed love to her husband. She was the one that always forgave her spouse for his selfish and inconsiderate behavior. Her rationale for staying in the relationship was that she “knew” that deep-down her husband loved her and would do anything for her if the need arose. A significant crisis struck the family, and this woman became utterly overwhelmed. She needed her husband and desperately asked for his help. His response echoed their 25 years of marital history. Not only did he refuse to help, but he also blamed her for the problem. He then became upset with her because he wasn’t getting his needs met. Her relationship was built on the false idea that her husband would be available for her if she really needed him.  However, the long history of their connection foretold otherwise.

A famous saying from Alcoholics Anonymous is, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” When you have invested in a relationship, it is easy to accept a promise that, “This time I’ll really change.” In my years as a therapist, I was privileged to be included in the personal lives of thousands of patients. I witnessed countless times where people chose to ignore the reality of their situation as it was easier to hope that their friend or partner really meant it “this time.” This call and response may make both parties temporarily feel good, but how realistic is change fueled only by a promise?

If you want to predict the future, look to the past. If you have a friend who is consistently unreliable and selfish, expect this behavior to continue. Ask yourself, “Do I really want to continue to invest in this relationship, or are my time and energy better spent elsewhere?” If you are in a relationship that is fueled by constant crisis, blame, and anger consider reflecting on the reasons why you continue. 

Patients would often ask me a different “why” questions. Why is my partner violent? Why does my friend constantly lie? Why is there always drama with my co-worker? It is challenging to analyze someone in the third party; the more important question is, why are you putting up with them?

Sometimes the answer to this question is that you have no choice. You may be working with a difficult person, but other positive factors keep you in your job. In situations like this, it is best to minimize that person’s impact on you. However, there are many times when you may think that you don’t have options, but in fact, you do. However, change may involve a certain amount of work and discomfort. Parting ways with a toxic friend may also close a broader social circle. Leaving a pathological spouse may force a reduction in lifestyle. I would like to remind you that these realities may be unpleasant, but they are absolutely surmountable. Happiness is not measured by your number of Facebook “likes” or the square footage of your home, it is measured by a sense of meaning, belonging, and worth. Is the relationship that you are questioning enhancing these, or hampering these qualities?

If a person has promised to change the way that they interact with you, ask yourself, how? In many cases, a simple promise to change a long-standing negative pattern will become a broken promise. Such pledges of change can be an easy “get off my back” tactic. With that said, I have seen folks make a dramatic and significant change and improve their behavior, but typically this is with consistent, hard work. Bad practices are often generalized. If someone mistreats others but treats you well I would suggest that it won’t be too long before you are also on the B list.  

The good news is that this historical predicting is bidirectional. If you know someone who is a salt-of-the-earth person who treats others with respect and kindness, there is a high likelihood that they will treat you similarly.   

Kids, I know that you are wise and sensible, and I acknowledge that you have made good choices in your friendships and connections. However, I believe that we all face difficult situations in life. A friendship or relationship can start off great, only to have it slowly dissolved into a painful disaster. Don’t judge your connections with others based on a honeymoon period. People reveal their true self over time. 

It is also important to realize that we are all imperfect. A quality friend may hurt you or even fail you. However, when you look back at your history with them, you will find that the overall positives of the relationship far exceed any negatives. Relationships are not about perfection, they are about connection.

My pride in you and my respect for you are tremendous and overflowing.  

Love,

Your Dad

achieving life goals, Aging, anxiety, decision making, Empowerment, family, Good relationships, Gratitude List, Life after retirement, living in a van, Senior, vandwelling, worry

On Aloneness

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I looked at the map and tried to find the most remote place on earth that seemed habitable. In my mind, that place was Baffin Island in Canada’s Northwest Territory. Vast and distant, it seemed to be the perfect spot. There I could be separated from the stress of negative interactions. I would pack all of my possessions with me. Books, electronics, scientific equipment, radios.

On Baffin Island, I would build a warm and secure cabin to protect myself from the elements. On Baffin Island, I could be myself.

Baffin Island was the mental place where I would go to as a child when I was feeling stressed or judged by the world and its people. This is where I would mentally travel when I was sick of acting a role so I could be accepted.

The power of a child’s fantasy is derived from the reality that it is not bounded by the constraints of logic. It is free-flowing with its only requirement being that it satisfies the needs of its creator, and Baffin Island was my fantasy. I knew that I was a loner, an introvert, a person who was happiest in his own thoughts. A person who was delighted to be left alone.

________________________

The preparations started months earlier, although I wasn’t sure what I was preparing for. I wrote pages of lists, watched dozens of YouTube videos, and mentally solved thought problem. I dug through my old camping gear, I gleaned gadgets from my electronics collections, I constructed things with the expert assistance of my friend, Tom.

I have come to believe that these actions were part of a greater coping strategy to deal with my internal anxiety. This statement seems strange, as I don’t consider myself to be an anxious person. I always could restructure my cognition, and when I face a stressful situation, I call upon that fundamental skill to calm myself and move forward. Yet, all of my preparation seemed to have a psychological motivation.

I also admit that I felt guilty about my plan to leave, but logically, I knew that I was adding only a few days to an already established trip. My feelings spawned out of causal comments that Julie said to me since I retired. “Did you have fun today?” She would ask when she got home from work.

I felt guilty that I had indeed had fun. A happiness based on no longer being responsible for the lives of others. A delight based on having the ability to do as I wished for once. I felt guilty that I was enjoying my freedom when she had many years of work ahead of her. I fully acknowledge that my interpretation of her comments was filtered by my personal assumption that the sole purpose in life was to produce.

The reason for my trip to Arizona was so I could clean my daughter’s college apartment and haul back the material contents of the last 4 years of her life. This act was productive, contributing, and even laudable. However, taking a few extra days to visit National Parks along the way was not. Logic told me that my actions were completely acceptable. I claim to be driven by logic, but I am actually ruled by my feelings, and those feelings made me feel guilty.

A psychological solution to my guilt appeared in the form of focused thriftiness. I decided that I would do whatever I could to reduce the cost of the trip and that somehow this action would justify those extra self-indulgent days. I would stay at National Park campsites. I would sleep and cook in my camper van. I would resist the temptation to buy unnecessary things. The thrifty strategy subdued my guilt, but that emotion was soon substituted with another even more ridiculous concern.

By coincidence random videos appeared on my YouTube homepage, most centering around bear attacks. There were instructional videos on how to protect yourself from maniacal bears. There were videos describing tales of loss of limb and life by grizzlies. There was even a video showing a bear using its massive claws to rip through a car door as quickly as one would poke a hole into a taut sheet of aluminum foil.

After watching a number of these videos, I told myself that enough was enough. I reminded myself that millions of people visit National Parks in any given year, and actual bear aggressions impacts a tiny percentage of those patrons. However, just to be on the safe side, I bought a canister of bear repellent and vowed to not smell like bacon when I was in bear country.

My trip preparation continued in earnest. I scoured the pantry for suitable camper food, and I made purchases of Knorr Sides and Spam Singles at the local market. I gathered my photography equipment. I filled my packing cubes with clothing. I put new batteries in my flashlight. There was nothing else that I could do, yet I continued to feel unsettled, and I didn’t understand why.

On the day of my departure, I found myself stalling to leave. Eventually, I pulled myself into my campervan’s cabin, buckled my seatbelt, and turned on the ignition. My solo trip was about to begin.

One mile became ten, ten became one hundred. I dug into my car food bag and munch on chips, mixed nuts, and Smart Pop popcorn. I calmed, but I still couldn’t understand what was really troubling me.

I traveled in external silence, thinking. I thought about making a helpful YouTube video for van dwellers. I plotted out the destinations of my trip. I remembered the contents of my cargo bins. And so it went.

My friend, Tom, would call to check on me, and I was happy about that. I would call Julie, and I was grateful that she seemed glad to talk to me, as I know she dislikes taking on the phone.

A conversation with one of my sisters here, a text message from one of my kids there, an encouraging Facebook comment or two. I was clearly looking forward to these interactions, and I was surprised how critical these touchpoints were for a loner like me.

I have never wanted masses of friends. I have never wanted to be popular. Such scenarios seem more exhausting than exhilarating. However, I cherish a small group of people. Those individuals represent my “Priorities,” and I will do whatever I can to make sure that I am there for them. However, traveling alone illustrated a second purpose to these relationships. Traveling alone had shown how imperative it is for me to be cared about by those who I care for. Traveling alone focused me on the reality that I need people in my life, and that it was the thought of separation from them that was the cause of all of my pre-trip anxiety. I find it curious that it is so easy for me to love, yet so difficult to imagine that others love me.

I don’t want to be cared for because of what I can do for someone, I have spent my life doing that. I don’t want to be included in a social circle only because I am entertaining, funny, or a good listener. Instead, I want to be loved and accepted for who I am. I want to be missed when I’m not around, and I want to be the source of excitement when I return on the scene.

During much of my life, I gained the acceptance of others by being whoever that person wanted me to be. Now, I want someone to see my soul and feel that I am good enough.

It brings me joy to comprehend that those people who I love also love me. As I write this, I am astonished by this realization, and eminently thankful for it.

On one phone call during my trip, Julie asked me if I was having a good time, and I told her, “Yes.” There are many positives when traveling solo. I set my own schedule and spend as much or as little time as I wish to do an activity. I can stay up as late as I choose, or go to bed as soon as I desire. These are wonderful things.

However, I did miss the lack of a traveling companion to share the wonders that I saw. Someone to be mutually amazed at the magnitude of the Great Sand Dunes, or to collectively wonder about the lives of the ancient Pueblo. I wanted to share a new sight, or a sunset, or conversation around a morning cup of coffee with someone that I care about. All of those activities seem sweeter when done with someone who you love.

This great adventure was an exercise in aloneness and was a success, but not the success that I initially imagined. Yes, I am perfectly competent by myself, but this trip illustrated to me how much I need others in my life, not to do for me, but to care for me. I am an introvert, but I’m not a loner.

As a child, I wanted to live on an island in isolation. As an adult, I realize the I am not an island unto myself. I still have much to learn about myself. Life lessons are everywhere. All I need to do is to stop and listen.

Hiking up one of the Great Sand Dunes.
Exploring a Pueblo Cliff Dwelling.
Hiking up a mountain.
Lake Apache.
Violet, my campervan.
Best friends, Family relationships, friends, friendship, Good relationships, retirement

Anger, Guilt, Fear, Eurphoria

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I like routine, so these early weeks of retirement have been confusing and a bit scary for me. My life roles are changing, as our my time obligations. I am in a metamorphosis, but it is still unknown if I’ll emerge from my work cocoon as a butterfly.

My title of doctor has always garnished a certain level of respect from others, and over the decades I have gradually assumed that being treated respectfully was the norm. I know that many individuals don’t have such privilege, and my change in status has subjected me to people that demonstrate a lack of relational humanity. These experiences have been disturbing, but empathy building for me.

Case in point, dealing with Medicare.

Medicare charges good earners a significant penalty/surcharge based on that individual’s previous income tax (This surcharge is called an IMRAA fee). At the beginning of this year, I had to decide on my Medicare insurance plan, and I made that decision with the help of an insurance broker. I chose to contract with an Advantage program based on my general good health and the fact that we also needed to secure additional insurance for the rest of our family. Advantage plans tend to be less expensive than regular Medicare and they include Part D at no additional cost, or so I thought.

Based on my 2017 income tax Social Security charged me a substantial penalty for Part B of my Medicare insurance. I understood this and made my first payment last month. I then received notice that I was going to be penalized for not having Part D insurance when I turned 65 last year. I didn’t have Part D coverage because I had insurance through my employer. This typical scenario seemed to be incomprehensible to our government, and I had to fill out forms and provide proof that I was not trying to secretly defraud the USA…Gads!

Monday morning I received my April bill for my Part B. I opened up the envelope to find that it was over $200 more than last month. I was confused as it seemed like that Social Security placed me into even a higher penalty category, and besides, they were charging me for Part D. I immediately called my new insurance provider, and the customer service rep could only suggest that I call Medicare directly. I placed my call to Medicare and got the usual, “Due to the high volume of calls…” message with and a warning that my wait could be a long as 15 minutes.

I was on hold for almost 30 minutes before Latisha picked up. The name Latisha means joyful and happy, my customer service representative definitely did not fit that description. Latisha was outright rude, and her demeanor was accusatory and condescending. “We know how much money you are making because we are directly connected to the IRS,” she barked. She offered no information on how to appeal such a decision, or why I was now being charged for Part D. It was an alarming call which gave me insight in how people can be treated when the customer service agent has ironclad job security and no repercussions for callous behavior. After being subjected to her abuse, I said to her, “Latisha I want to inform you that I have agreed to take a customer satisfaction survey at the end of this call at which point I will clearly state how you have been treating me.” I could hear a bit of anxiety in her voice, and her outright condescending manner softened slightly. She is a person who should not be working with seniors.

Unfortunately, I am now stuck with a huge Medicare monthly payment and no known recourse at the moment. It disgusted me the way she treated a senior, and I can only imagine how she intimidates less secure callers. With that said, I was not about to let her rudeness dominate my emotional well being that day.

Tuesday morning at 4 AM my friend, Tom pulled up in his white Ford Flex. I donned my coat, slipped out the door, and climbed into his passenger seat; off we went. Tom stopped for gas and then pulled into a Dunkin Donuts and got both of us coffee. We were on an adventure as he was driving me to a favorite breakfast diner which was over 2 hours away in Wisconsin. His generous gift of time was a continuation of my 66th birthday celebration. After a delicious omelet, we traveled the 2 hours back home. Our trip symbolizing friendship and our willingness to take care of each other.

Now back home I had to deal with a concept new to me, open time. I have been busy most of my adult life, and I have always had to deal with a lack of unstructured time, not an abundance of it. There were things that I could do, but they were wants not needs. I started to feel guilty, as I now had free time while my wife, Julie had to work. In the past I identified with overworking, and in many ways my constant drive to accomplish things gave me validity. I tried to think of some major project to work on; I resisted that urge. I felt tired, and I decided to take a short nap. Thirty minutes later I awoke feeling refreshed.

I decided to tackle a fun project: How to interface my computer to a two-way Amateur radio. As is usual with such projects things didn’t go smoothly, but eventually, I was able to solve the connection problem and program the radio. There was a particular joy in having the time to approach the problem, take a break, and then resume. In the past, I would have focused on how to solve the problem as efficiently as possible. My new project timeline turned this activity from stress producing into fun. For me, there is nothing as exciting as learning something new.

After my radio adventure, I had another urge to be productive in an effort I to justify my lack of paid employment. Guilt was on the rise. The house was reasonably tidy, as I had cleaned it on Sunday. I put a few dishes away and swept the kitchen floor. It was then time to meet my sister, Nancy.

I pulled up to Panera Bread at 6:59 for my 7 PM meeting and met Nancy in the parking lot. We were restarting our weekly creativity night after a brief break caused by mutual travels and an unwanted upper respiratory infection.

Nancy was upset at the beginning of our meeting. Her feelings precipitated by a disappointment perpetrated by an acquaintance. This led to a conversation about people who we can depend on. For both of us, the number was small but reasonable. In the end, we concluded that we were both fortunate to have people in our lives who we could depend on, and even though our close connections didn’t consist of legions, their numbers were indeed more significant than what many others have. I suggested to her that she focus on those people who care about her rather than wasting energy wondering why a random unimportant person failed her.

We proceeded with our meeting of conversation and study as I munched on a half of a Cuban sandwich and a cup of chicken noodle soup. I was happy to re-initiate our weekly get-togethers as I enjoy spending time with my sister. It felt good to have this structure re-enter my week. At the end of the meeting I said to her, “Nancy, I have no idea what to write about this week.” She offered a few suggestions, but none of them rang true. I decided to write about my present state of mind, and that flow of consciousness is what I am inking on paper now.

This Wednesday morning I found myself questioning if I should go on my morning walk. It was raining, and I was still tired from my previous day’s adventure. Lacking a defined work schedule when I woke it took me a few moments to realize that it was Wednesday, not Saturday. I forced myself up and meandered to the bathroom to prepare myself for the day.

I located an umbrella and headed out the door. When I reached Starbucks, I ran into an acquaintance who had picked up his coffee and was heading out the door. “You’re late today,” he said in a joking manner. “Yeah, I guess the rain slowed me down,” I responded.

I procured a Tall Veranda and found my usual table at the front of the store. Out came my computer and earbuds and I started to type this post. I rarely know what I’ll type when I start this process, I just sit and let my fingers do the talking.

Tom and I had spent a lot of time together on Tuesday and I didn’t expect him to be at Starbucks today as he was working on a project that was geographically in the opposite direction of the coffee shop. Since I anticipated his absence, I had planned my morning accordingly. Tom used to have a habit of pulling away from me when he got too emotionally close. I am familiar with that pattern of behavior, as I have been known to do the same thing. However, we have both become more secure in our friendship and this pattern is now rare.

Some of the morning coffee regulars came up to me and engaged in conversation. Kathy stopped by to congratulate me on my full retirement and told me of a ski trip that she just took with her husband. John came up to me to also congratulate me on my new status. He is an executive for a large corporation who is dealing with the immense stress of being in such a position. We chatted a bit about my new life and his current work situation. I then continued to write this post, but soon it was time to return home.

I now sit at the Ram dealership as Violet the van’s instrument panel has been flashing me a request to have her oil changed. So here I am in the dealer’s showroom finishing this random post of an ordinary few days in the life of a retiree.

I have been awash to so many feelings over these last few days. Anger, at being treated as a non-person by Medicare. Guilt that I am not longer filling every moment with work for pay. Sadness, at my changing status from doctor to citizen Mike. Peace, as I am no longer responsible for the lives of others. Confusion, over what to do with my new found free time. Euphoria, over having free time to be confused over.

I am becoming aware of a need to expand my horizons. I much prefer having intense relationships with a few people rather than causal relationships with many. However, it would be unreasonable for me to expect those currently close to me to completely replace the social connections that I had garnished from my worklife. My experience this morning at Starbucks suggests that there are people out there who would be fine with spending time with me, and that the major limiting factor in this social regard is me.

My siblings have their own lives, my kids are busy with school and friends, my wife works, my friend Tom has a construction business to run. So where do I look to expand my horizon? I don’t necessarily need additional intense relationships, but I should probably explore more casual connections. Clubs, volunteering, social groups, all are possibilities. I am awash with both fear and excitement, and I’m OK with having both feelings. Onward, one foot in front of the other. Every day is a new adventure and offers the potential for personal growth.

A special omelette with fried, Tom.

Deciding to walk in the rain.

Solving a technical problem.

Family Vacations, Good relationships, life balance, retirement, Work Stress, worry

Retirement, After One Week

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It happened just about a week ago. I knew that it was coming, but I still was surprised. That’s the way life is.

My last day of work was anticlimactic. I was working from home and signed off my enterprise level conferencing system with little fanfare. My workplace had already had a reception for me the week before.

That was a Thursday, and I spent Friday gathering my thoughts, spending time with my friend, Tom, and packing for a mini trip to Arizona. Julie was taking me to Tucson to celebrate my retirement as she felt that a trip would be an excellent transition tool.

Early Saturday morning we arrived at Midway airport and started the arduous process of preparing to fly. Fortunately, we had pre-check, and we breezed through the TSA. I have to say that I don’t really like flying. I don’t have a fear of airplanes, but I find the whole process unsettling. Julie understands this, and we now arrive for flights with plenty of time to spare, which helps ease my mind. At 6’ 3” I am cramped in tiny airline seats and on two of our three flights I had big guys sitting next to me who did not understand the concept of personal space. In the past, I would try to squeeze myself onto the far edge of my chair to give them as much space as I possibly could. However, my attitude has changed. I don’t want to be even more cramped, and if they have no problem pressing up against me, then I have no problem pressing up against them. It is a dog eat dog world when you fly coach.

The actual trip was delightful. I have been to Arizona many times, but this was the first time that I was there during winter. The temperature in the mornings was cool, but by afternoon the temperature was a perfect 70F.

It was wonderful to visit with my Kathryn, who will be graduating college from the U of A in a few months. Julie got to attend a book fair, and I was able to wander with a camera in hand and photograph Tucson and the surrounding areas. It was a peaceful and delightful trip.

On my return, I helped my friend, Tom with a couple of things and spent several days photographing a house that he just finished building. Last Friday I was the event photographer for a daddy/daughter dance. Today (Sunday) I saw an excellent production of “The Producers.” As you can tell, I have been busy.

I don’t expect every week to be this hectic, and I’m learning to go with the flow. I’m lucky as I rarely am bored. I always seem to find something to occupy my time.

I’m still having dreams about work, and I still have not accepted the fact that I’m now on a permanent vacation. It is all a little frightening but in a wonderfully frightening way. Week two is now upon me, and I can’t wait for that adventure to begin.

Hiking in Arizona

Pretty Arizona.

Working as the event photographer for a daddy/daughter dance with my niece, Jenny.

One of the architectural shots I took for Tom.

Another architectural shot.

Doing some cooking. In this example butternut squash soup.

Aging, Appreciate every day, friendship, Good relationships, Life after retirement, life balance, Making Change, Photography

Every Day Is Saturday

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My birthdays have become important markers for me over the last few years. Their significance is less about my ever growing age, and they are more about a reflection of my previous year and a projection of my future one.

Last year I retired from private practice, but I continued to work 3 days a week for Rosecrance in Rockford. I also turned 65 and had a big party. Julie had asked me if I wanted a celebration get-together and she was surprised that despite my introvert nature I said yes. It was a most significant day as guests took the time to write remembrances of me that are now part of a scrapbook for my children and grandchildren.

Last year gave me two additional days of free time a week that I had initially planned to use in a concerted effort to improve myself and change the world. Reflecting one year later I did not change the world last year, but I did improve myself, just not in the ways that I initially envisioned.

Goals, like learning a foreign language and improving my guitar skills, fell by the wayside. Learning a language seems almost impossible with my poor auditory discrimination. It is likely that I will eventually focus more on my guitar playing, but I’m just not feeling it at the moment.

As far as changing the world is concerned, I think my grandiosity got the better of me. I believed that I could focus my passions for photography and writing, and combined these passions with my knowledge of human behavior to create a product that would have some sort of impact. I’m reassessing this goal, but not my passions.

It appears that my impact on others is much more significant when applied locally, rather than globally. This is something that should have been obvious to me as this has consistently been the case throughout my life.

I continue to write, and I believe that my overall writing has improved throughout this year. However, it is unlikely that I will be nominated for the blog hall of fame. I write now for the pleasure of writing, and to leave a chronicle of my life and ideas for my children and grandchildren. If my words impact a reader, all the better.

My photography has continued and is flourishing. I am doing a tremendous amount of architectural photography for my friend, Tom. Other photo opportunities are also presenting themselves, and in the next few weeks, I’ll be the contracted photographer for a Daddy/Daughter dance and a 50th wedding anniversary church service and reception. I have to say that I love the variety of doing different types of photography. Each presents its own kind of planning and method. My photos won’t be on any magazine covers, but I’m getting tremendous pleasure creating them as I think that they are serving a purpose higher than my own self-serving pleasure.

I feel most at peace in nature, and one of my goals has been to give myself the ability to experience the outdoors in the most cost-effective way reasonable. I don’t want the barrier of money to stop me from getting out among the trees. I am pleased to report that I am moving forward on this goal. Last summer I purchased a bare cargo van, and I have been in the process of converting it into a useable camper for one or two. Such a vehicle opens up many cost-effective possibilities for discovery. Last summer I had the initial interior shell installed by Wayfarer Vans in Colorado Springs, and since then Tom and I have been outfitting the van with vents, solar panels, and many other refinements. I now have a fully self-contained off-the-grid camper at the ready. I have already used it to travel on a few small trips and in May I will use it to meander to Arizona. Later in the summer, I will mount a trip to Glacier National Park. I am hoping that these trips will not only be soul cleansing, but they will also give me a chance to do more landscape photography. In addition, I am interested to see how my writing will change when I’m surrounded by pine trees instead of concrete.

I am doing things that were not part of last year’s plan. I’m learning more about construction; something that I enjoy immensely. I am also picking up a hobby that I abandoned over 15 years ago, Amateur Radio.

You may recall from previous posts that I have always loved radio, and as a grade school kid, I was building complex radios to exploring the airwaves. My private psychiatric practice was located by a lot of technology companies, and it wasn’t uncommon for me to treat scientists and engineers. In 1999 I had some knowledgeable experts warn me about the uncertainty of Y2K, and I eventually took them seriously. I felt that it would be important, not only for my family but also my local community, to have a way to communicate in a scenario where traditional communication lines were down. The apparent solution was Ham Radio, and I set myself a goal to obtain my radio license. In short order, I got a Technical Class license, then a General Class license, and finally the coveted Amateur Extra license. In my typical compulsive manner, I explored and bought radio equipment and practiced the art of using that equipment to make over-the-air contacts. My primary interest was in long-distance communications, but my small suburban lot didn’t have space for a proper antenna. Add to this reality my very long work schedule and the responsibility of raising young children, and I abandoned the hobby after about 3 years. I felt that I would never return to it.

I mentioned that I am planning a trip to Glacier National Park this summer, which has no cell coverage. Julie will remain at home during this trip, and I was thinking about ways to keep in touch with her. I explored the tools at my disposal, including my Amateur Extra license. In many ways traveling to a remote location is similar to having your community communication grid go down. No phone lines, no internet, no cell service. Ham radio could provide a communications solution. Unfortunately, Julie doesn’t have an amateur license, and so it would be illegal for the two of us to communicate over their air. However, there are options and the one that I plan to deploy is called Winlink. This is a protocol that allows the sending and receiving of email over the Ham radio bands. The recipient gets an email via their email client and can respond to that email just like they would any other email.

I have not been active in Amateur Radio for almost two decades, and I have forgotten much of what I had formally learned, so I’m now in the process of giving myself a crash course in electronics, radios, and communication law. You may think that my efforts are unnecessary and excessive, but that is the way I roll. I love learning and growing in knowledge.

Last week I had a much quieter, but equally lovely, birthday. Last Thursday Rosecrance also had a retirement reception for me. It was wonderful to be recognized, but also a bit sad as I’ll be leaving people that I have become fond of.

This week I will work today and tomorrow. This Friday my work life as I know it will be over. Some of my current activities may eventually fade from interest, but my life history tells me that there will always be new interests to take their place. Every day has become a new adventure and soon every day will be a Saturday for me.

Life is good!

A quiet but wonderful 66th birthday.

A retirement reception at Rosecrance.

Retirement, many changes.

Baking as science, Baking Macarons, family, Family relationships, family traditions, Good relationships

Baking Macarons With Gracie

In the Kuna household the Christmas season brings more than sweet treats and gifts, it brings my two college-aged daughters back to Naperville. For a few short weeks, our family is reunited, and family seems as it should be.

Our Kathryn returns from her college in the Southwest, our Grace comes back from hers in the Midwest. It is always exciting to see how they have changed, but it is more rewarding to witness that deep down, they are the same beautiful people that left us in the fall.

Old traditions, like Cooking With Dad Thursday resume and new traditions form. This year our Kathryn introduced us to “The Great British Baking Show,” which she reports as popular among her peers. She convinced Grace to watch it, then Julie, then me, then Will; we were all hooked.

The show is of the reality TV variety with a format that consists of 12 amateur bakers who are challenged with three difficult tasks and then judged on their efforts. All of the contestants are very experienced bakers, and to make things interesting, they are given short time limits that push them to be as productive and efficient as possible. Under such pressure, the results range from outstanding to disastrous. In reality TV tradition, one baker is eliminated every week, and one gains the exclusive title of, Star Baker. The difference between this show and a typical Food Network contest is that everyone is civil. The bakers help each other, and the leaving baker gets hugs instead of insults.

Kathryn returned to school, but Grace’s holiday continued, which opened up the opportunity  for the two of us to have an adventure or two.

“Dad, let’s make Macarons,” Gracie said. After a moment I responded, “OK, but I don’t think that I ever tasted one.” “That’s OK, we can figure it out together,” commented Grace. Not that many years ago I didn’t even know what a Macaron was and when they started to become popular, I thought that people were talking about Macaroons, the sweet soft coconut lump cookies that you can buy in the cookie aisle; now we were going to make them! Grace was quick to find an “Easy Macaron Recipe” on the Internet, and I said that we could give it a shot after lunch.

When I was growing up one of my favorite memories was sitting with my mom and watching The French Chef on Saturday afternoons. I liked the fact that I was doing something with my mom, but I also loved the way that Julia Childs approached cooking. She was precise and scientific in her approach, and her methodology was something that I could admire. She did things for a reason, and she understood what that reason was. My mom never made a recipe featured in the show, but I have used the cooking knowledge that I gained from viewing it my entire life.

“Let’s look at the recipe,” I said. We were lacking in a number of the things necessary to complete our task. “Almond flour, I wonder where we get that,” I said. “Let’s try the Jewel,” Grace responded. “We also have to get some pastry tips and a sieve. Hmm, it says that the eggs have to be room temperature. I remember that from watching, The French Chief. I also remember that we can’t use a plastic bowl when we beat the egg whites because even a trace of oil will prevent them from forming peaks,” After a few more moments of pondering I said. “Let’s go shopping!”

We figured that the closest place that would have special baking equipment was Michael’s, and that was our first stop. We found the baking aisle, and we were confronted by a wall of pastry tips, coloring gels, and silicone baking mats. Neither of us knew what to buy. I decided to go with plastic pastry tips, as they were less expensive and I wasn’t sure if this macaron experience would be of the “one and done” variety. In addition to our piping equipment, we opted to get some food coloring gels to use instead of regular food coloring as it seemed more bake-worthy for such an exotic treat.

Our next stop was the Jewel. We entered the baking aisle, and I was astounded to find that they actually had two different brands of almond flour. I have been down baking aisles hundreds of times, and I have never seen this stuff. I guess my brain has always been in selective filtering mode. We went down another aisle and I grabbed an overpriced sieve.

Now back home, and I was on the hunt for the Kitchenaid’s whisk attachment. I found its hiding place in a bottom cupboard, and we assembled our tools and ingredients for the task at hand. With 4 eggs reaching room temperature we decided to reconvene in 30 minutes.

Step-by-step we followed the recipe, and although we had never made macarons, instructions are instruction. “Let me show you how to fold the flour into the egg whites without deflating them,” I instructed Gracie; another lesson from Julia Child. I added what seemed to be a tiny dot of blue coloring gel, and the cookie dough became the color of denim jeans. Note to self: food coloring gel is potent stuff!

We did our best to pipe out the batter into neat circles, but it was clear that our “star” tip was inadequate for the task. Since we had no other option, we pushed forward hoping for the best, but willing to accept the worst. Into a 300F oven our little cookies went, then cooled, then filled with buttercream icing.

They certainly did not look like the ones we saw on TV. They tasted OK, but we wondered if they tasted like macarons, as neither of us had ever eaten one before. The next day Julie answered the latter question by purchasing 3 cookies, each a different flavor at the Standard Market. Those cookies looked perfect, and they had just the right amount of filling. I was shocked that she paid almost $5 for three of them, and did a quick mental calculation on what a dozen would cost. At least we now had an idea of what macarons should look and taste like. Five dollars was the price paid to acquire information to improve our next macaron bake.

Yesterday I was driving Grace back to college. As we drove we talked through a research paper that she was reading on a mutation of an adenovirus strain. Reading a research paper is not that different from reading a recipe. In both instances, you needed to know the lingo first before you can understand the content.

She is going to participate in a research project next semester and she will be doing lab research on adenoviruses. I told her that baking and running experiments are very similar. Methodology and accuracy in both are critical if you want to get reproducible results. “Learn your protocol, refine your method, and repeat. That’s all there is to it.” I advised.

My friend Tom often teases me when I ask him why he is using a specific tool, or why he is approaching a construction project in a particular way. “Mike, this is useless knowledge for you, you will never use it.” I feel that all knowledge can be useful or useless. It is up to the end user of that knowledge to determine its utility. I have never acquired a piece of information that I felt was useless. It is all useful, I just haven’t used it all yet!

Julia Child helped me be not only a better baker but also a better research scientist. Understanding science has made me a better cook. Circular, no?

Tools of the trade.

Learning how to pipe.